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Let’s get things rolling (sorry) with this quote from Irish historian Patrick Weston Joyce:
“Our literature affords unquestionable evidence that chariots were used in Ireland from the most remote ages, both in private life and in war. They are mentioned constantly, as quite common and familiar, in the ancient records, both legendary and historical, as well as in the Brehon Laws, where many regulations are set forth regarding them.”
(source: A Smaller Social History of Ancient Ireland, 1906)
I mean, case closed, right?
There is no denying the long tradition of chariots in Irish literature—a tradition that starts, at least, chronologically speaking, with Righairled, who, according to the myths, is the fourteenth High King of Ireland in the line of Eber, son of Míl Espáine.
Míl Espáine, of course, being the leader of the Milesians, who are the sixth and final mythical race to invade Ireland and who are thought to represent the arrival of the Gaelic-speaking Celts.
Anyway, it is Righairled who commissions the first chariots to be built in Ireland.
And some decades later, Righairled’s descendant, the High King Rothechtaid (a.k.a. Roitheachtaigh), whose name appropriately means “possessor of wheels,” becomes the first person to drive a chariot pulled by four horses in Ireland.
This innovation would have occurred around the year 1000 BCE, going by Irish historian Geoffrey Keating’s reckoning, or around 1375 BCE according to the Annals of the Four Masters—assuming it occurred at all.
We’ll get into it.
Pssst. You can watch a video adaptation of this essay right here (text continues below).
But first, there can be no discussion of Irish chariots without bringing up the Irish hero Cú Chulainn, arguably the most famous chariot-warrior in all of Irish mythology.
Indeed, Irish folklorist Dáithí Ó hÓgáin argued that the second part of Cú Chulainn’s name, while commonly believed to be a reference to a smith named Culann, whose guard dog Cú Chulainn slays (it’s a whole thing), actually stems from an Old Irish word for chariot, cul.
Granted, the most commonly used term for the wheeled vehicle in the medieval Irish texts is carbad (or carpat in Old Irish).
Moving on.
Cú Chulainn’s war chariot is piloted by the one and only Láeg, the so-called king of charioteers.
Láeg also happens to be one of my favorite characters from the Irish myths, not so much for his prowess behind the yoke, but for his role as Cú Chulainn’s chief instigator.
As I explore in my essay, “Who Is the Greatest Hero From Irish Mythology?”, Láeg is responsible not only for ferrying Cú Chulainn around the battlefield, but also for riling the warrior up by hurling insults at him so that he can enter the riastradh or war spasm, which is essentially the Irish mythological equivalent of hulking out.
Now, as for the appearance and construction of Cú Chulainn’s chariot, here’s what the story Tochmarc Emire, or The Wooing of Emer, has to say:
“[It was] a chariot of fine wood with wicker work, moving on wheels of white bronze. A pole of white silver, with a mounting of white bronze. Its frame very high of creaking copper, rounded and firm. A strong curved yoke of gold; two firm-plaited yellow reins; the shafts hard and straight as sword-blades.”
That is quite a detailed description, lending credence to the idea that, yeah, even if most of the tales of ancient Irish chariot-warriors were mythical or legendary, the vehicles themselves actually existed.
Or…did they?
Because there are some strange inconsistencies in the texts we need to address.

Does Irish Mythology Have a Chariot Problem?
While chariots feature prominently in the Ulster Cycle of Irish mythology, including in that cycle’s main saga, the Táin Bó Cúailnge, or Cattle of Raid Cooley, which sees Cú Chulainn in the starring role, if you will, there are scarcely any references to chariots in the following cycle, the Fenian Cycle, which follows the exploits of Irish hero Fionn mac Cumhail.
Unlike Cú Chulainn, Fionn does not ride around in a chariot, and, by extension, does not have a charioteer as a sidekick.
On its own, this isn’t necessarily a big deal. Perhaps the Fenian Cycle tales, which chronologically take place later than their Ulster Cycle counterparts, are simply set in a time when chariots had fallen out of favor.
Only…that doesn’t seem to be the case.
The Four Masters set Fionn’s death in the year 283 CE. Granted, Irish author and dramatist Seumas MacManus, who argued for Fionn’s historicity, believed “he must have died some years earlier,” (source: The Story of the Irish Race).
Regardless, Fionn, if he existed, would have been doing his heroic deeds right around the time of the Battle of Crinna in 226 C.E., a battle which absolutely features the use of chariots.
Of course, the Battle of Crinna or Cath Crinna, as the text is titled, isn’t exactly historical. While included in the Kings’ Cycle a.k.a. Historical Cycle of Irish mythology, it’s likely that artistic liberties were taken—as is the case with most if not all of the stories from that cycle.
So perhaps some overzealous scribe added the chariots to give the story some extra pizazz.
Which begs the question:
Could the same be true for the Ulster Cycle and the Táin Bó Cúailnge and basically all of the early Irish myths that mention chariots?

Classical Influences on Irish Mythology?
The Christian scribes who first wrote these myths down were familiar with other mythologies, including and perhaps especially Greek mythology.
There’s a reason the Táin Bó Cúailnge is sometimes referred to as the Irish Iliad and Cú Chulainn the Irish Achilles.
As Celtic scholar Dorothy Dilts Swartz noted, while the “wit and substance of the work are certainly Irish[,] [t]he mystery is how its composer achieved his stylistic eloquence and polish…From the beginning of nineteenth-century scholarly interest in Táin Bó Cúailnge (TBC) similarities in motifs have been brought forward as arguments for classical influence.”
Here’s an example of that influence:
In both the Iliad and the Táin Bó Cúailnge, the body of a slain enemy is dragged by the feet behind a chariot for all to see.
Then there are the horses.
The chariot of Achilles is pulled by the horses Balius (meaning “dappled”) and Xanthus (meaning “blonde”), although in another iteration, a horse named Cyllarus replaces Xanthus and in that version the horses are the sons of the sea-god Poseidon.
Cú Chulainn’s chariot, meanwhile, is pulled by the horses Liath Macha (the “grey of Macha”) and Dub Sainglend (the “black of Saingliu”), both of whom are described as “dappled” and both of whom are born from the pool of Linn Liaith in the mountains of Sliab Fuait.
In addition to (sometimes) sharing a watery origin, the chariot horses of both heroes share watery eyes.
When Achilles’ best bud Patroclus dies in battle while impersonating the demi-god, Balius and Xanthus stand motionless on the battlefield and weep, refusing to let Achilles’ charioteer, Automedon, drive them.
In a similar vein, on the day Cú Chulainn (who is also a demi-god, it should be noted) is to die, one of his horses, Liath Macha, refuses to let Láeg the charioteer harness him to the chariot. Cú Chulainn himself eventually completes the task and Liath Macha cries tears of blood.
Now, we can explain away such narrative similarities by pointing to a shared proto-Indo-European origin, bolstering the claim that the ancient Irish really did use chariots and that any Classical influence on the old tales has been exaggerated.
However, it’s hard to prove it one way or the other based solely on the literary evidence. After all, stories change and evolve over time. Manuscripts get lost and rewritten. It’s not as if these stories were set in stone.
So let’s turn our attention to the physical evidence—to evidence that actually was set in stone.

What Physical Evidence Do We Have of Ancient Irish Chariots?
To start, I will pose the following, frequently asked question:
If the ancient Irish didn’t use chariots, why do we find depictions of chariots carved into Irish high crosses?
To be fair, there are only six examples of Irish high crosses (out of hundreds) that bear such imagery, but still, how do we account for them?
For starters, it’s important to acknowledge that Irish high crosses are not ancient. The oldest ones date to perhaps as far back as the 8th century CE, a time when Christianization was well under way in Ireland. Thus, many scholars have interpreted the chariot imagery on these crosses as depictions of scenes from scripture. And on the surface, this makes a lot of sense given that these crosses are Christian monuments.
However, as noted by Celtic scholar Henny de Leeuw:
“On the other hand, it is well known that on converting the heathen Romans, the Christians used Roman symbols, compositions and forms, to get their message across. Moreover, there are some high crosses on the Isle of Man depicting stories from Norse mythology. Taking all this in consideration, there is a possibility that depictions of Celtic stories might be found on high crosses in Ireland.”
But de Leeuw doesn’t stop there, arguing that the Irish high cross chariots were likely inspired by the same story, a story that has a “clear Celtic element” while also having “strong connections with Christian topics.”
That story? The Siaburcharpat Conculaind, or the Phantom Chariot of Cú Chulainn, sometimes given as the Demonic Chariot of Cú Chulainn.
In the story, Saint Patrick is trying to convert the High King Loegaire to Christianity, and the king agrees to make the switch on the condition that Patrick is able to raise the famed Irish hero Cú Chulainn from the dead. Patrick obliges, and Cú Chulainn shows up not on his lonesome but in his chariot with his two horses, Liath Macha and Dub Sainglend, and his charioteer Laeg.
Sooo where does this leave us?
Back at square one, unfortunately. Because it turns out the chariot imagery on the Irish high crosses is likely rooted in the same storytelling tradition that introduced Irish chariots in the first place.
There really is only one road left to take, and that road is…roads. Or rather, the ancient Irish roads and associated artifacts that were recently discovered by archaeologists.

Do All Roads Lead to Irish Chariots?
The myths tell of these roads, roads wide enough to allow two chariots to pass each other going in opposite directions. So it was certainly a big deal when, in 2006, a network of wooden trackways was discovered during an excavation associated with the construction of the N4 Dromod to Roosky bypass.
Many artifacts, preserved by the boggy landscape, were discovered along these trackways, including the remains of a large block wheel dating to 1100 BCE. It’s the oldest wheel ever discovered in Ireland.
As to whether that wheel belonged to an ancient Irish chariot, here’s what archaeologist Caitríona Moore told the Irish Times:
“[T]here’s very little evidence for vehicles in Ireland from that time. There are texts that describe Celtic chariots, but we have very few physical remains…[W]ith a thick and heavy block wheel like that, you are probably not talking about something light like a chariot, but a fairly large and sturdy utilitarian vehicle like a cart.”
Here’s another point to consider:
Even if the ancient Irish were able to tame the bogs, so to speak, by building these wooden trackways, thus allowing for the passage of wheeled vehicles, perhaps even chariots…the idea that ancient Irish warriors used those same trackways for chariot battles is farfetched to say the least. Such battles would not have lasted very long.
It’s also worth noting that despite the presence of wheel remnants nearby, Moore believes the primary purpose of the wooden trackways wouldn’t have been for facilitating wheeled travel, but for facilitating pedestrian access into the bogs, perhaps for ritual reasons or for gathering plants and food.
The bottom line: there simply isn’t enough archaeological evidence to prove, with any degree of certainty, that the ancient Irish were cruising around in chariots. Combine this lack of material evidence with what we know about Irish geography and with what we know about the scribes who first wrote about ancient Irish chariots, and what we’re left with is…a great collection of fictional stories about chariot-warriors, Cú Chulainn foremost among them.
As a closing thought, I’ll leave you with this passage from Irish author and cultural researcher Brian O’Sullivan, founder of Irish Imbas:
“There are clear influences in the portrayal of Cú Chulainn as an Achilles-like figure but the portrayal of major combat using chariots is probably far more relevant to the stony plains of Asia Minor than the boggy and forested lands of 2nd century Ulster where you’d have been hard pressed to find a route suitable for a horse, not to mind a two-wheeled chariot.”
Want to learn about the darker side of Irish mythology? Check out…
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More the listenin’ type?
I recommend the audiobook Celtic Mythology: Tales of Gods, Goddesses, and Heroes by Philip Freeman (narrated by Gerard Doyle). Use my link to get 3 free months of Audible Premium Plus and you can listen to the full 7.5-hour audiobook for free.
