Honouring Macha at Lughnasadh

I’m hardly the first person to honour Macha at Lughnasadh, but the reasons behind that might not be clear to everyone. First, honouring Macha does not mean that I am rejecting the tradition of honouring Lugh and Tailtiu at this time. I think Lughnasadh has room for all of them, and more deities, besides, if you want to bring them in.

According to old Irish texts, Lughnasadh was instituted by the god Lugh to honour his foster mother, Tailtiu, who died clearing land for agriculture. The agricultural aspect, particularly harvesting grain, would make sense for a festival at this time of year. Lughnasadh/Lammas was a time of important agricultural fairs all over Britain and Ireland until the mid-20th century. Once the grain was harvested, rents had to be paid, agricultural workers might look for a new position, marriage bargains were often struck, and people were looking for a bit of fun, too.

In Ireland, Lughnasadh fairs, or óenacha, might also include athletic games or horse racing. Two of the most famous of these fairs were held at Emain Macha, near Armagh, in Ulster, and at Teltown, County Meath. The fair at Teltown (Irish Tailtin) is the one said to have been instituted by Lugh in honour of Tailtiu.

Tailtiu is portrayed in Irish myth as daughter of the king of Spain, whose name is given as Mag Mor (Great Plain). She is married to the exemplary Eochaid mac Erc, king of the third wave of settlers in Ireland, who were known as the Fir Bolg. After the Fir Bolg were defeated by the Tuatha Dé Danann, Tailtiu paired with one of their number, and in time was given Lugh to foster, by his father, Cian, also of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Lugh’s true mother was Eithne, daughter of Balor of the Fomorian race, who was an arch-nemesis of the Tuatha Dé Danann. It appears that the Fir Bolg never went to war against the Fomorians, so Tailtiu would have been an ideal choice to protect the child, as well as being of noble rank.

When Lugh was older, Tailtiu is said to have cleared the wood of Caill Chuan, creating a large clover-covered plain, ready for agriculture. This work was so arduous that she died from exhaustion. On her deathbed she asked that Lugh hold a fair with games in her memory, which became Lughnasadh. You can read the passages from the Irish texts which tell this story at this link.

This story is used to explain both the origin of Lughnasadh and the naming of Teltown/Tailtin, but there are two other stories in Irish texts which are uncannily similar. One refers to a shadowy goddess called Carman (or Carmun), in whose honour a fair was held every three years in Leinster, possibly at Carlow. Carman came to Ireland from Greece during the time of the Tuatha Dé Danann. She was an evil sorceress, and brought her three equally evil sons, who plundered and pillaged. The Tuatha Dé Danann drove the sons away, keeping Carman as a hostage against further invasion.

According to the Rennes Dindshenchas, “Their mother died of grief here in her hostageship, and she asked the Tuatha Dé Danann to hold her fair at her burial-place, and that the fair and the place should always bear her name. And the Tuatha Dé Danann performed this so
long as they were in Erin.”

At the End of a Harvest Day by Willem Carel Nakken

Which brings us to Macha. While the fair at Teltown was associated with the high kings of Tara, the one at Emain Macha was associated with the Ulaidh, or kings of Ulster. The Dindshenchas associate the naming of Emain Macha with several of the different Machas we know from the Irish texts. First, Macha the wife of Nemed, who had a vision of the sorrow which was to come because of the Táin Bó Cúailnge (Cattle Raid of Cooley). This vision causes Macha wife of Nemed to die of sorrow, after Nemed clears twelve plains, the twelfth being Magh Macha (the Plain of Macha), where Emain Macha is located. The story seems to be eating its own tail, since it is the curse of Macha, wife of Cruinniuc, which makes things so difficult for the Ulstermen in the Tain. A curse which is delivered at the fair at Emain Macha.

The story of Macha Mong Ruadh (red-haired Macha), daughter of Aed Ruadh, is also given as a reason for the naming of Emain Macha. This Macha won and held the kingship she inherited from her father, variously killing, marrying, and enslaving those who opposed her rule. It was said that she forced the cousins she enslaved to build Emain Macha.

So, we come to Macha, wife of Cruinniuc. This is the Macha who appeared mysteriously at the home of Cruinniuc, a wealthy widower and cattle-lord, and without a word took over the duties of wife and housekeeper. Her presence brought prosperity, and in time she fell pregnant. One day, Cruinniuc decided to attend a fair. Macha told him not to mention her to anyone while he was there, but before long he had carelessly boasted that his wife could outrun the king’s horses.

The king was angered, and Macha was brought to the fair and forced to prove her husband’s claim in order to save his life. Macha felt her labour pains starting and asked to be allowed to give birth with dignity before she ran, but the king and his assembled men refused. The race began and Macha won, giving birth to twins as she crossed the finish line. She then cursed the men of Ulster, that they would be helpless and feel the labour pains of a woman whenever they were required to do battle. This, as I mentioned above, had grave implications in The Tain.

Inis Meain 5 Hooded Crows by Roland LaVallee

The video below might help you make sense of these tangled strands.

It should now be easy to see why the goddess Macha has a strong claim to be honoured at Lughnasadh. Her associations with horse racing, with Emain Macha and its fairs, have deep meaning for me. I also feel that the story of Macha, wife of Cruinniuc, provides us with much to think about as far as how we treat the goddesses of sovereignty and the land they represent. Are we showing them respect? Are we treating them well, or using them thoughtlessly?

Another name for Lughnasadh is Brón Trogain, which means something like “sorrow of the earth” and includes implications of the pain of giving birth. In each of these stories I have shared, we see sovereignty goddesses ending their time in pain, sorrow, or bondage. As hostages. As work horses. What is the real message of these tales for us today? I can’t help feeling that we are too quick to apply a story of almost Christ-like sacrifice to these goddesses of the land, who die in pain and grief so that the people can eat. Are we okay with sacrificing women’s sovereignty, nature’s sovereignty, for this? Or should we be reading these myths as cautionary tales?  

detail: A Rest in the Fields by Jules Breton

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Links to most sources are in the texts, but for further reading on Brón Trogain I recommend these blog posts:

• A Dream of Lughnasadh - Morgan Daimler
• The Victory of Lugh - Blackbird Hollins