As someone who is writing fiction, I’m particularly interested in story and therefore fascinated by folktales. While researching dragons for my last post, I came across an interesting book, The Celtic Dragon Myth, by John Francis Campbell and translated with an introduction by George Henderson. It contains several texts related to the theme of heroes battling water monsters. I thought it would be fun to explore the book together—as a folktale adventure of our own.
Some Background on The Celtic Dragon Myth
The book’s title, The Celtic Dragon Myth, is a little misleading because it contains several texts within it, one of them also having the title, “The Celtic Dragon Myth.” (I know—confusing!) I’ll use italics for the book title and quotes for the story. The tale of “The Celtic Dragon Myth” will be our main focus, and not only does it include a dragon, but also giants, a mermaid, and shape-shifting heroes. While The Celtic Dragon Myth is credited to John Francis Campbell, it was actually published in 1911 by George Henderson, as Campbell had died in 1885.
In the book’s introduction, Henderson explains that Campbell viewed “The Celtic Dragon Myth” as “… one of the most important of myths, and the most difficult to deal with.” It stemmed from a series of stories from the Highlands and Isles, but Campbell had also read similar tales in other languages, such as Swedish, German, French, Italian, English, as well as versions in Russian. It seems that Campbell was drawn to the dragon myth as a result of a recurring story pattern that he’d discovered in all of the different versions of the tale.
“The Celtic Dragon Myth” tale seems somewhat unique to me in its form. It’s a compilation of multiple folktales (from fifteen different Irish and Scottish sources) translated and rendered into a single narrative by Campbell. It reads a bit like a novella, and I haven’t really come across anything like it before in my research.
The book also includes the Gaelic text of two folktales (that form part of the larger narrative of “The Celtic Dragon Myth”), as well as two stories of Fraoch, a Connaught hero. One of the Fraoch stories is a translation by Henderson of the ninth-century, medieval Irish text Táin Bó Fraích (Cattle-Raid of Froech), which he titles “The Geste of Fraoch.” The other tale of Fraoch is material from the Book of the Dean of Lismore, a sixteenth-century text, which Henderson calls “The Death of Fraoch.” Henderson explains that he has included these stories as they are quite “old and important” examples of contests with water monsters.
Because “The Celtic Dragon Myth” is roughly a 100-page tale, I felt that it was too long to simply recount in a summarized fashion. So instead, I thought we could follow highlights of the plot while looking at some of the narrative techniques used in the tale.
Be warned, spoilers lie ahead. If you wish to download the PDF of the book and read it first, please feel free to do so. My article will be here waiting for you once you’re ready. 🙂 Otherwise, let’s dive in!
We Begin With a Smith (Who Is Also a Fisherman) and a Mermaid
The tale first introduces us to an old smith who lived by the sea with “… an old wife, an old mare, and an old dog for company.” They had no children, and the smith often went out in the evening to fish (usually without much luck).
Most of the action in this first part of the story takes place during twilight, which an especially suitable time of day for seeing faeries and other supernatural creatures. Thus, one evening the smith went fishing, and “just at the mouth of night,” a mermaid emerged next to his boat and asked if he’d got any fish. The smith told her that he hadn’t.
So the mermaid proposed a bargain—if he will give her his first son once he’s three years old, she’ll ensure that he catches plenty of fish. Well, since the smith hadn’t any sons, he thought this was an excellent agreement.
I love the phrasing, “mouth of night,” which according to the notes section of the book was “… the common Gaelic equivalent for a nightfall.” This personification of the night having a mouth also operates as a bit of foreshadowing. Later in the tale, the mermaid swallows up one of the main characters alive! (Fun folklore fact: some mermaids in early Celtic descriptions were very large, like over 100 feet in length.)
A Fishy Prophecy and the Number Three
After his encounter with the mermaid, the smith began fishing daily. For several days, he caught only a single fish at twilight, but it was a talking fish who repeatedly convinced the smith to let him go. However, the smith and his wife were very hungry, and on the third day, he broke the bad news to the fish that he would be keeping him.
With his final words, the fish gave the smith very detailed instructions on how to split, cook, eat, and dispose of him. The fish then foretold what would happen if the directions were followed:
“Thy wife will bear three sons.
“Thy mare will cast three foals.
“Thy dog will litter three whelps. …
“Three trees will sprout where the bones are buried, and they will be in leaf and budding, in sap and growing, summer and winter, spring and autumn, every day for ever, so long as the clan shall live.
“They will droop or wither or die as they do.”
Not only does this prophecy foreshadow future plot points, but it also highlights the number three, which features strongly in many folktale narratives. In the article “Folktales in Newfoundland Oral Tradition: Structure, Style, and Performance,” J. D. A. Widdowson explains:
… they [folktales] typically feature a hero, … who overcomes opposition and obstacles that are usually grouped into sets of three quests, tests, or trials, often doing so by magical means, and who usually wins out in the end.
As we’ll see, the number three will continue to appear throughout “The Celtic Dragon Myth.” Indeed, the three sons were born and grew up, with the smith managing to keep the eldest from the mermaid.
But soon the time came when the young men “would all three start and try their fortune.” The smith warned his eldest son to avoid the seashore due to the bargain made with the mermaid. Then the sons set off on three separate paths, promising to meet up again “in a year and a day.”
In Which the Eldest Son Battles Giants and a Dragon
The eldest son traveled until he reached a castle and there he “took service with the king’s herd.” Placed in charge of the cows, he immediately disobeyed the king’s herd and took the cattle to a forbidden area that had wonderful grass, but as it turned out, belonged to a giant.
This launched the young man into a series of challenges: slaying three giants (each with seven heads) and their mother (of two) / wife (of one). There is quite a bit of repetition in these challenges, both in plot and language. In each round, he fought the giant until he felt “he was far from friends and near his foes.”
However, the lad discovered he could transform into different animals and slay the giants and their mother/wife. Twice he embodied a wolf, but for the third giant he became “a wolf and a hawk and a fox all at once.” He took the form of a hawk to battle the mother/wife.
Bennison Gray addresses this concept of repeating incidents within a single work of folk literature in the article, “Repetition in Oral Literature.” Gray explains that repetition is widespread in folk literature because it is an oral literature and “… repetition is a direct consequence of their oral nature.”
While “The Celtic Dragon Myth” is written down in a book, several of the folktales it stems from were told to Campbell orally. The tale utilizes repetition throughout, and it aids in building tension.
After successfully defeating all of the giants, the eldest son spoke with the king’s herd, who told him a bit of news:
“The great “Biast” [dragon] is coming out of the sea to take away the king’s daughter, and unless he gets her the whole realm will be ravaged.”
The young man feigned disinterest, but the next morning he left early to fight the dragon. In this set of challenges, he must defeat a three-headed dragon, one head at at time.
This is probably my favorite part of the entire folktale. While these scenes are built in repetition as were the battles with the giants, they are more complicated, layered, and nuanced. There’s humor, deception in the form of a hero who lies and an impostor hero, suspense, and a bit of gore (the true hero is identified by a small collection of body parts cut off of him before each battle.)
Apparently, this complexity is not unique to this folktale. In “‘The Celtic Dragon Myth’ Revisited,” which was a talk given by Joseph Nagy at the Celtic Colloquium at the University of Edinburgh, he explains that dragon folktales often include complex narratives. Additionally, the slaying of the dragon isn’t always straightforward. He says:
The hero rarely has the opportunity to enjoy his triumph right away—typically in instances of ATU 300 [The Dragon-Slayer tale-type], he is beaten to the punch by an anti-hero who tells a false story of what happened and presents himself as the dragon-slayer.
In “The Celtic Dragon Myth,” this impostor, or anti-hero, exists as a “cock-eyed, carrotty-headed cook,” who attempted to take credit for the dragon slaying. But once the eldest son was revealed as the true champion, he and the princess married, and the cook was hanged for his trickery.
The Mermaid Returns to Make Good on the Bargain
After the couple had been married awhile, the princess had a longing for dulse seaweed and asked the eldest son, her husband, to go with her to the seashore to look for some. The lad had forgotten that he’d promised his father to stay away from the sea. Suddenly the mermaid appeared:
… the mermaid rose and made a rush, and seized the lad and shouted :
“It is many a day since you were promised to me, and now I have you perforce,” and then she swallowed him up alive.
The princess ran for her harp, then returned to the seashore with it and began playing. The mermaid reappeared and the princess paused her tune. The mermaid asked her to continue, but the princess refused to play until she saw that her husband was alive. “So the mermaid opened her great mouth and gaped, and showed the lad’s head, and the king’s daughter knew that he was alive.” They go back and forth several times until the lad was able to escape. In retaliation, the mermaid snatched up the princess and took her.
The lad learned from a knowledgeable counselor at the castle that he would have to take the mermaid’s life in order to get his bride back:
“The mermaid’s life,” said the counsellor, “is not in her, and it is easy to take. It is in an egg, which is in a fish, which is in a duck, which is in a ram, which is in a wood, under a house on an island, in a lake.”
Hmm, I’m not so sure that this challenge is “easy.” But the eldest son worked backward from the lake, finding each item/animal in reverse order, transforming into a wolf, a falcon, and a fox and enlisting the help of an otter.
Once he had the egg, the mermaid appeared in the lake, begging him not to break the egg. The mermaid opened her mouth and the princess “sprang” out. Holding his wife’s hand, “… he crushed the egg with his foot against the stones, and the mermaid was a heap on the rocks.”
Part of me wishes “The Celtic Dragon Myth” ended here with death of mermaid and the couple’s reunion. I have always liked circular narratives. They feel cohesive, yet they can still reveal growth and change. Author Leslye Penelope recently sent out a newsletter post entitled “Scene Mastery & Sticking the Landing,” which further explains:
One powerful technique for ending well is to create a counterpoint or full-circle moment—mirroring or bookending the opening scene in some way. This often creates a deeply satisfying effect for readers.
This may explain why I enjoyed the eldest son’s storyline the best. By beginning and ending with the mermaid, I felt like the story had come full circle.
The Brothers Reunite (Sort Of)
At this point, the tale follows the second and third sons’ stories. They, too, had the ability to transform into different animals. With “courage, cunning, and patience” they succeeded at their own adventures involving fighting an army and another giant. And in the end, both married princesses.
Now it was time for the three brothers to embark on their final adventure. In a Medusa-meets-Bluebeard set of scenes, the brothers took turns fighting a creature that transformed men “into pillars of stone.” In this, the youngest brother prevailed against the creature during the third battle and revived all of the men with a “balsam for bringing to life again.”
But wild jealousy consumed the eldest brother when he learned that his wife had shared a bed with the youngest brother the night before. (Although it may have been chaste night, as the text reads, “… he laid a cold sword between them.”) The eldest turned his sword on the youngest brother and quickly beheaded him.
I’ll be honest, I did not see this plot twist coming. I had assumed that all three would return home again as champions. But while it seemed a little out of character for the eldest son, folktales often include sudden and unexpected events with little fanfare.
The tale wraps up quickly at this point. The old smith saw that the third tree had fallen (as a result of his son’s death), fulfilling the fish’s prophecy. The two older brothers returned to their parents and “put them in a castle by themselves.” (I’m not sure why.) And while the eldest son and his wife lived happily, it is unknown what happened to the second brother.
Thanks for going on this adventure with me! I’d like to end with a quote of encouragement for storytellers and artists from the introduction of the book, The Celtic Dragon Myth. Henderson writes:
There are dragons still to be slain. May the recital of an old tale kindle the mind to new adventures. Here are materials for poets and painters. It is we who are living now. Let us mould them to express ourselves. The ancients have expressed themselves through similar tales ; nor will we fulfil ourselves by entirely disregarding our ancestral past and our wealth of complex tradition.
As ever, thank you for reading and learning along with me. If you know someone fascinated by folklore and folktales, feel free to share this post with them. 🙂 Thanks!
Art credit (featured image): She sat on a green mound in the gloaming in the mouth of the evening, playing on her harp. By Rachel Ainslie Grant Duff in The Celtic Dragon Myth by John Francis Campbell, translated with introduction by George Henderson via Internet Archive, public domain
