Springs

Springs are commonly seen as a focus for Geltlc rituals (Ross 1967: 19-33; Thevenot 1968: 200-21). Textual evidence in this respect is very sparse. Flirtius’ account of the diversion of a spring at Uxellodunum in 51 BC {De Bello Gallico VIII.43.4), and the subsequent surrender of the oppldum is a possible reference of iron age date (Brunaux 1988; 42), but a utilitarian function could well be implied for this spring (Webster 1991: 517-19). The one reference to springs in a clear iron age cult context IS Lucan’s overwrought account of a lucus near Marseilles, written in the first century AD with reference to the Givil War (Pharsalia III.339-425).

As noted by Brunaux (1988: 41) and Green (1986: 155), archaeological evidence for springs as pre-conquest cult foci is virtually non-existent. The argument for Geltic use of such loci is heavily dependent on the well-documented post-conquest use of springs for cult purposes (see e. g. Audin 1985; Webster 1991: 171-218). Finds of wooden statuary (a non-classical medium) at the Gote d’Or sites of Sources de la Seine (Martin and Grimaud 1953; Deyts 1983) and Essarois (Daviet and Daviet 1966) and at Ghamalieres (Puy-de-D6me), and elsewhere in France, have been argued to show a Geltic presence at springs, but can nowhere be dated before the first century

AD (Deyts 1983; Webster 1991: 200-9). The recently excavated examples from Montlay-en-Auxois (Cote d’Or) were found in wooden catchment pools dated by dendrochronology to AD 86-119 (Dupont 1990: 154) .

On the other hand, cult activity occurred from the early post-conquest period at many springs: Luxeuil and St-Marcel (Indre), Avord and Sagonne (Cher), Vichy (Allier), Chateauneuf-les-Bains (Puy-de-D6me), and Coren and Vic-sur-Cere (Cantal) have all produced early post-conquest coins or ceramics (Audin 1985). There are two ways to consider this phenomenon: either by the retrospective inference that such sites are close enough in date to the Roman intervention to suggest they represent the survival of pre-conquest practices; or as a veritable post-conquest phenomenon. On present evidence, the balance is in favour of the latter.

Lakes

Poseidonios, who visited Mediterranean Gaul in c. too BC, refered to sacred lakes (Itpvat tepat) as repositories for treasures among the Tectosages of Toulouse (Strabo IV.1.13). This passage is often cited as evidence for a widespread use of sacred lakes by Celtic peoples, but the text is clearly specific to the Tectosages. Archaeological evidence for lakes in cult contexts is, however, more widespread. The deposition of high-value metal in watery contexts, including lakes, is well attested archaeologically in Atlantic Europe (Tobrugge 1971; Fitzpatrick 1984; Wait 1985: 15-50). This practice increased during the Iron Age in Britain, though on the Continent it declined after the second century BC (Wait 1985: 49). Numerous lakes are interpreted as depositional cult foci, including Llyn Cerrig Bach (Anglesey: Fox 1946: 58) and Carlingwark (Scotland: Curie 1932). A similar interpretation was originally advanced for the lake site at La Tene, Neuchatel, Switzerland), where thousands of weapons and tools, and some jewellery and coins, were found (Piggott 1968: 76).

Bogs

Bogs also served as foci for metalwork deposits. This practice was not restricted to Celtic peoples, and features for example in Germanic cult (Glob 1969; Todd 1975: 163-89). The Gundestrup Cauldron, widely seen as the quintessential ‘Celtic’ cult artefact, was in fact found in a bog in Himmerland, Denmark (on the possible nonCeltic origins of this piece see Taylor 1992). Human remains are mainly known from Germanic contexts, but sometimes occur in Britain and Ireland. The Lindow bog body (Lindow Moss, Cheshire) is a recent example. Dating of the body is problematic (Gowlett et al. 1986; Otlet et al. 1986), but radiocarbon dates from the most recent analysis cluster around the first century AD (Ross and Robbins 1989: 17). Lindow man suffered a threefold death (by axe blows, garrotting and cutting of the throat). Whether or not he was a victim of human sacrifice (as Ross (1986) maintains), this triplication suggests a death with ritual links. Where datable, however, British bog bodies are mainly of bronze age or Roman date (Turner and Briggs 1986: 63), and their ritual associations unclear. The extent to which such deposits represent an iron age ritual phenomenon is thus uncertain.

Islands

There is some evidence that islands were favoured as cult sites by Atlantic Celtic peoples. Several texts may be noted in this context. Posidonius described a Gallic tepov on an island off the mouth of the Loire (Strabo IV.4.6), served by female religious specialists. Tacitus, describing Suetonius’ attack on Mona (Anglesey), associated the island with the druids and with women whom he compared to the Furies {Annals XIV.30). After the conquest, Mela (111.6.8) referred to virgin priestesses on the island of Sena (Brittany). Female religious specialists are linked to islands in all three passages. The implication is possibly of sexual boundedness (explicit in Strabo IV.4.6). Islands are also physically bounded, relating them conceptually to other forms of enclosure noted here. In Britain, archaeological evidence for an island sanctuary occurs in the form of a wooden circular temple on Hayling Island (King and Soffe 1991).

A link theme in the above discussion Is that of water as a boundary. Brunaux (1988; 43) has suggested that lakes were natural sanctuaries, without enclosure or protection. This may not always have been the case, but water, or islands in water, clearly offer a ready-made form of enclosure.

Both textual and archaeological evidence for iron age ‘natural’ foci is thus very restricted, the latter being largely limited to certain water categories. It is very likely that Celtic peoples did employ natural forces as cult foci, without restructuring their space. In the Graeco-Roman world, for example, such loci co-existed with formal, public, cult centres (Ferguson 1970; 65-9), and the same is clearly probable for Celtic peoples. Indeed, it is possible to argue that our concept of Celtic religious life is distorted by the poor recognition of ‘natural’ cult loci by both classical commentators and archaeologists. In this context, the lack of textual data may reflect the fact that non-structural loci would not have been easily recognizable to external observers. But at the same time, natural forces, including trees and springs, were familiar cult foci in the Graeco-Roman world (Virgil, Aeneid viii.352, 597; Ovid, Metamorphosis III.1.1, III.13.7 (groves); Pliny XI1.3, xv.77, XV.137 (trees)), and such foci among the iron age Celts might have Invited comment for precisely this reason. It remains significant that almost all iron age textual references suggest, with varying degrees of certainty, that the designation of Celtic cult sites involved the restructuring of space. Equally, while the difficulties of archaeological recognition of ‘natural’ sites must be borne in mind when assessing their importance to the Celts, it is also reasonable to expect some positive archaeological evidence in their favour. In many of the cases examined above, this is clearly lacking.