Ancient Celts--Tricia McGill

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While searching around during research for an entirely different subject I stumbled upon some notes I took long ago on the Celts whose tribal societies lived throughout Europe centuries before the birth of Christ. Often described by Ancient Greek and Roman writers as ferocious warriors there was certainly more to these people than warfare. Farmers, miners, seafarers and traders, they produced amazing works of art and jewellery. Their bards would recite many tales of their gods and heroes at their resplendent feasts. 

By the 1st century BC, the Romans controlled most of Gaul but under pressure from tribes to their north the Celtic Helvetii tribe attempted to migrate out of Switzerland. Confronted by Ceasar’s forces some Celts rebelled under the leadership of Vercingetorix. Julius Caesar, now the governor or Gaul, and known for his speed and decisiveness in battle had six Roman legions under his control and saw a perfect chance to gain great glory.

The ancient Greek writer Strabo said the Celts had little on their side in a fight except strength and courage, but were easily outwitted. The Celts were no match for the disciplined Roman army and especially strategic generals such as Caesar.

It seems that Celtic warriors liked to make a tremendous noise on the battlefields, beating their wooden shields while yelling to intimidate their enemies. They also favoured a trumpet called a carnyx which consisted of a 12-foot-long thin bronze tube, bent at right angles at both ends. The lower end terminated in a mouthpiece, and the upper end flared out into a bell which was most often decorated to look like the head of a wild boar. Historians believe it likely had a tongue which would flap up and down thus increasing the noise produced by it. 

The religion of the Celts remains somewhat a mystery. They did worship both gods and goddesses and we know that their religion was based on nature. They rarely built stone temples, instead visited shrines set in remote places, such as clearings in woods, rivers and springs, or near lakes to worship their gods and to make offerings. Celts saw water as a transition between this world and the next. In the 1st century BC Celts in parts of Wales threw weapons, chariot and horse harness as well as certain tools into water as offerings to their gods. Perhaps they saw this as a way to seek protection against the Roman armies or were giving the gods their spoils of war.

Celts lived on farms in small villages. In the 5th and 6th centuries BC leaders in different parts of Europe built vast hill forts. Later they often lived in a fortified town while in Scotland they built defensive stone towers. From the most humble to the wealthiest their burials took very careful preparation and is testimony to the belief in life after death. Bronze funerary carts found in some Celtic graves show a goddess directing the procession to lead a soul of the deceased person into the next life. Some classical writers and Irish poets also recorded their ideas of an afterlife, which included the concept of a soul passing from one body to another or of the soul continuing to control a person’s body after death. They might enjoy a land of peace and harmony after death, or warriors could carry on enjoying the combat they loved through life on earth.

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Before dying by Eleanor Stem

White Light of Death

Once I worked in the upstairs offices of a bank, located in the Dallas area. A coworker was an older man who never married. He lived with his sisters and took care of his mother. We will call him Lewis.

One day, Lewis sat down on the chair next to my desk. He asked, “Do you believe in life after death?”

Being quite young, I hadn’t thought too much about it. I shrugged and said, “I guess. Why do you ask?”

Then he proceeded to tell me of his mother’s last day on this earth.

She had been on her deathbed. Lewis’ father was already gone. His parents were young during the Prohibition era and they loved to dance. As Lewis put it, “Every Saturday night, they’d go out and shake a leg.”

He sat on a chair by his mother’s bed. All of sudden, she raised her arms. “You come here and let me help you.”

She faced the other side of the bed and proceeded to attend to someone or something. Lewis asked, “What are you doing, Mama? Who do you see?”

“Oh, I’m just fixin’ this little boy’s collar. He’s dressed like they did at the turn of the century. One side of his collar's tucked under his coat.” She patted what would have been the little boy. “There now, fixed.”

She lay back and closed her eyes. Lewis’ mind wandered, thinking of his youth and his parents.

Mama said, “Do you think they’re in heaven?”

Lewis jerked awake. He must have drifted off. “Who Mama? Who do you see?”

“There, at the end of the bed. The Jacksons are here.”

They were the couple Lewis’ mama and daddy danced with on Saturday nights. Even though it was Prohibition, they’d go honky-tonkin’, kick their feet and swing around.

Lewis couldn’t see who mama saw, but he said, “I’m sure they are. They were good people.”

He no longer allowed his mind to wander, to drift off to sleep. His mama was having hallucinations. As the clock by her bed ticked away the afternoon, a little girl dressed in frills came to her bedside, neighbors from her past, church matrons and friends who had died in France during WW1.

“There are so many crowdin’ in, Lewis. I’m afraid they’ll move the bed.”

Lewis couldn’t see anyone or anything. All he saw was her lace covered chest-of-drawers. The lamp on her bedside table, the clock that ticked away the day.

“They want me to come with them,” she sighed heavily, “and I am tired.” Her voice weakened. “So very tired.”

Later that afternoon, Lewis’ mother passed away.

* * *

I was with my dad when he died. We were in a curtained room in the ER. An oxygen mask covered his face. I stood beside the gurney, my husband off to the side. My dad kept looking at where my husband stood. He pointed over and over, his glassy eyes wide. My husband looked where he pointed but we didn't see anything.

My dad died a few minutes later.

After the hospital’s minister came and gave us condolences, the ER doctor and nurse, who had attended my dad, came in. I asked, “Do you ever see the spirits of those who die?”

Without hesitation, the doctor nodded. “Yes.”

With a great deal of hesitation, the nurse finally nodded and said, “Yes, I have, too.”

 ~*~*~*~*~

 

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