How Ogma Created the Ogham
Now this is the story of the birth of the Ogham, the writing of the Tuatha Dé Danann and the spirits who carry magic and meaning and power.
Long before humans pushed the Tuatha Dé Danann into the sídhe with a treacherous contract that tried to destroy them as a people, they walked Eire, and Alba, and Cymru much as we do now. And in those days there was a Rí, half-Fomorian, half Tuatha Dé in origin, and his name was Eochaid Bres.
Now this half-Fomorian Rí was cruel – lacking in hospitality, princely in judgment – and my friends, that is not a compliment – and racist to boot. He favored his Fomorian kin over the people he had a duty to lead, and grievous taxes he imposed. There was no joy in the land – no bards or poets singing and telling stories, no fat on their knives and no entertainment in his house. The people did not go to the contests of champions, and most of the people absented themselves from his hall of poor hospitality.
But Ogma, Champion of the Gods of Skill, the Champion of Champions was faithful – oh, not to Bres, who surely didn’t deserve it. But to his people. Who would champion his people if he did not? So he stayed in the hall and Bres, terrible ruler that he was, imposed upon mighty Ogma the meanest of duties. You see, had he the choice he would have gotten rid of the Champion along with the rest of Ogma’s kin. But Ogma was too smart, too crafty, and too useful. Whether he would or not, the Court of Bres would have Ogma stay, and Bres could not counter them. So instead, he demanded Ogma haul firewood from the Islands of Mod to the fort of Bres, that they may have fires in their hearths. No ordinary wood would do, said he, but special wood from a special place. A lie of course, meant to keep Ogma out of his court, to force him to undergo such mad trials and a low task indeed for such a champion. To the furthest fucking island off the coast of Ireland, he was sent.
Yet Champion Ogma was not conquered by this menial task, no. When the stores were low, then back and forth He traveled to the islands and returned to the fort, carrying bundles of firewood on his back, in his arms, as much as he could carry in as many ways as he could, to replenish the wood and keep the fires of the fort burning. And this was an arduous task, to travel the length and breadth of the land, to cross the sea and back. A full third he lost to the water on the way, taken by the ocean because while he was faithful in this work, Bres did not feed him the Champion’s portion, and he was hungry and tired and overburdened.
Still, this was hard work but certainly did not require the quick mind of Ogma. Thus as he labored, and as he journeyed he had plenty of time to think. And think he most certainly did. As Champion, he had a responsibility to his people – a Champion, after all, stands to fight when the people cannot. And Ogma loved his people and wanted to help them return to power, and to get rid of the Rí that hurt them all so. But how?
So He journeyed over Eire, across the sea and back again while pondering that very question. How to restore the balance to the land? How to restore freedom to his people? How can a Champion fight when his sword is sworn in the service of a tyrant?
As he traveled, he thought, and he listened. In this meditative work, physically arduous and mentally freeing, he learned the feel of the earth under his feet. He learned the names of the plants and the animals he met. He felt the sun on his face, the wind in the air. Deeper and deeper he went with each journey, his connection to land and sea and sky enriched by each day’s journey. Sometimes at night he’d make a camp, and listen to the sounds of firelight and nocturnal creatures, feeling the light of the moon speak to him of secrets only the darkness holds. The birds taught him their songs, the trees taught him their language – the land became his guide into a depth of magic so powerful, none had seen it take hold.
From that magic, his ogham took root. The spirit of the cleansing of the birch, the enduring strength of the oak. The power of the current that sweeps away blockages, the sound of the cry that cannot be silenced that brings forth new life. On these trips and with his deep connection to the land he discovered the spirits of the Ogham and gave birth to new life, for all creation is born from struggle.
So he returned to the terrible Rí, Champion of the Gods of Skill with his duty properly fulfilled. And he knew that the reign of Bres would not last forever, and he knew he could find a way to bring his Tuath back and in so doing, restore the land and his people. And so it was that Ogma, Faithful and True, son of Elatha, Sun-Faced and Sage, gifted his people a priceless thing – the magic of the Ogham.
As to how vile Bres was ousted, and what happened after? Well, that’s a story for another time.
Source lore:
Auriacept na n-Eces, pg 273
What are the place, time, person, and cause of the invention of the Ogham? Not hard. Its place Hibernia insula quam nos Scoti habitamus. In the time of Bres son of Elatha king of Ireland it was invented. Its person Ogma son of Elatha son of Delbaeth brother to Bres, for Bres, Ogma, and Delbaeth are the three sons of Elatha son of Delbae¦th there. Now Ogma, a man well skilled in speech and in poetry, invented the Ogham. The cause of its invention, as a proof of his ingenuity, and that this speech should belong to the learned apart, to the exclusion of rustics and herdsmen. Whence the Ogham got its name according to sound and matter, who are the father and the mother of the Ogham, what is the first name that was written by Ogham, in what letter it was written, the reason why it was written, by whom it was written, and why b precedes every letter, hic noluuntur omnia.
Ogham from Ogma suo inventore primo in respect to its sound, quidem; according to matter, however, ogum is og-uaim, perfect alliteration, which the poets applied to poetry by means of it, for by letters Gaelic is measured by the poets; the father of Ogham is Ogma, the mother of Ogham is the hand or knife of Ogma.
Cath Maige Tuired – pg 14-15
Bres held the sovereignty that had been granted to him. There was a great complaining against him by his maternal kin the Túatha Dé, because there was no fat on their knives from him. However frequently they came their breath did not abound in ale. They did not see their poets nor their bards, not their satirists nor their harpers nor their pipers nor their trumpeters, nor their feat-performers nor their fools entertained in his household. They did not go to contests of champions. They did not see their warriors proving their prowess before the king, but one warrior, that is Ogma son of Etain.
This was the duty on him, bringing firewood to the fort. He would bring bundles each day from the Islands of Mod [Clew Bay]. The ocean would take a third of the bundle because he was weak without food. He brought but a third and supplied the host from one time to another.