Celtic Knots Explained (And How to Draw One)

Did you know there are eight basic types of Celtic knot, from which nearly all Celtic knot patterns can be derived?

• The first knot is based on a three-cord braid with horizontal breaks on one side.
• The second is based on a three-cord braid with horizontal breaks on both sides.

• The third is based on a four-cord braid with breaks in the middle.
• Number four is like number three but with an additional break.
• Five is also like three but with two additional breaks.
• The sixth type of Celtic knot is also based on a four-cord braid with breaks in the middle; it’s like three but cut in half, essentially.
• Seven is like Six but with an additional break.
• And Eight is also based on Six but with two additional breaks.

So, there you have it. The eight elementary knots which “form the basis of nearly all the interlaced patterns in Celtic decorative art.”

This according to the 1904 book Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian Times by J. Romilly Allen, the archaeologist and historian of early British medieval iconography, whom you might remember from my video/essay on the Great Celtic Paganism Hoax.

Now, you can take these eight knots and arrange them in rows or columns; you can add pointed ends to the loops; you can combine them with circular rings or enclose them in circular bands; and you can also distort them so that they become triangular, thus forming what’s known as triangular knotwork, which was especially popular in the Celtic Christian art of Ireland and Britain. 

And if you look closely at this triangular knotwork, you might see a symbol you recognize. Perhaps from a Led Zeppelin album. Or from Thor’s hammer Mjölnir. Or from the TV show Charmed. Or from Michonne’s katana on The Walking Dead. The list goes on.

This is a triquetra, also known as the “Irish Trinity Knot” or the “Celtic Trinity Knot.”

And while the symbol is used by modern Christians to represent the Trinity, and by Celtic neopagans to represent triple goddesses, like The Morrígan, as well as other tricipital concepts, like the tripartite division of the world into land, sea, and sky, the symbol itself predates those applications.

Granted, the triquetra’s original meaning remains murky. 

We’ll get into it. 

Pssst. You can watch a video adaptation of this article right here:

But first, here’s something we know for sure:

The triquetra is the simplest knot possible. At its core it’s a trefoil knot, which is just your basic overhand knot with the two loose ends joined together. 

It’s so simple, in fact, that I figured out how to draw one. 

Here’s how you do it. 

How to Draw a Triquetra (Irish Trinity Knot)

Step one: Draw an equilateral triangle with sides that curve slightly outwards. FYI: This is known as a Reuleaux triangle.

Step two: Leaving a little bit of space, draw three lines outside of that triangle, making sure they’re the same length as—and parallel to—the Reuleaux triangle’s curved sides.

Step three: Let those three lines serve as the bases of three isosceles triangles, but again we want to curve those sides. The finished shapes should look like leaves or spearheads.

Step four: Here’s where things get a little bit tricky. Draw a short line connecting one side of the center triangle to one side of one of the outer triangles.

Step five: Starting at the base of the adjacent outer triangle, draw a line parallel to the one you just drew but continue it all the way around the tip of the outer triangle you were working on in the previous step. Continue down the other side, making sure to stop at the base.

We can now see how this cord of the knot we just drew is on top of another cord. Which means the next cord will need to go underneath. And yes technically it’s all one cord but you know what I mean. 

Step six: You’re now going to repeat steps four and five, connecting one side of the center triangle to the side of an outer triangle. And then you’re going to add a parallel line and continue it all the way around. Make sure to keep the widths of the resulting cords consistent so that they all line up.

Step seven: Go ahead and repeat steps four and five again, keeping in mind that since the previous cord went underneath the next one will need to go over.

One trick for helping you with the orientations of the cords is to think of a boat propeller. Each time you’re adding one of those connector lines from the center triangle, it’s like you’re adding a propeller blade. 

The end result: Your very own triquetra.

Keep in mind this is how I figured out how to draw triquetras. It is by no means the only way to draw them, or how people drew them historically. 

And speaking of the history of triquetras, the very first ones…didn’t look like this.

The History of the Triquetra

As architect John Burley Waring explained in his 1874 book Ceramic Art in Remote Ages, a rudimentary form of the triquetra can perhaps be gleaned in this Assyrian engraving of a “tri-curved figure” positioned over a pair of winged, human-headed lions. 

To quote Waring:

“According to custom and analogy, the symbol over their heads would represent the Sun.”

Then we have some coins from Lycia, with a “modification of the same figure…possibly influenced by Persian or Assyrian models, after the conquest of the country by Cryus’s general, Harpagus, as described by Herodotus, around 540 B.C.”

You can definitely see more of the modern triquetra in these symbols, and again the consensus is that they were intended to represent the sun, i.e., the “solar flame.”

Except in the case of the coin with the dolphin jumping over the symbol. According to Waring, such a pairing leaves little doubt that “in this instance at least, it represents water.”

All this being said, the four-rayed figure, or fylfot, was more popular, and older, than its three-rayed counterpart, with the latter only “becoming common and constant about the time of Alexander.” Specifically, post-333 B.C.E., which is when Alexander conquered Lycia en route to Persia.

It was also in the 300s BCE when a variation of the triquetra—with three legs replacing the three rays—began being stamped on Sicilian coins. Known as a triskeles or Trinacria (literally: “three capes”), the symbol represented the triquetrous nature of Sicily’s geography.

Now, if you’ve been wondering when the heck I’m going to tie all of this back to Celtic knots (sorry, had to), the answer is: Soon. Very soon.

Because as some of you have no doubt already realized, the three-legged triskeles is also a symbol of the Isle of Man, one of the so-called modern Celtic nations. 

The Triskele-Triskelion-Triquetra Connection

Starting in the 5th century CE, Gaelic/Goidelic Celtic-speakers (i.e., Gaels) from Ireland began settling en masse on the Isle of Man, spreading their language and culture as well as the Christian message of a fella by the name of Patrick.

So, did the Irish Gaels bring triskeles with them to the Isle of Man? Because certainly similar symbols were prevalent in Ireland before then. Waaay before then, it turns out.

Indeed, one of the oldest examples of a triskelion, or triple spiral, dating back to 3200 BCE, can be found engraved on a stone at Newgrange, a monument I featured in an earlier video/essay on megalithic structures. That symbol was created in the Neolithic era, about 2,500 years before the arrival of the Celts.

And just so we’re all on the same page here nomenclature-wise: technically, triskele and triskelion can both refer to any symbol that A) exhibits rotational symmetry (i.e., it looks the same after you turn it a bit) and B) has three parts or patterns emanating from a common center.

But for whatever reason, triskelion is now frequently used to refer specifically to triskeles that feature triple spirals.

A triquetra, meanwhile, has traditionally meant the same thing as a triskele, with archaeologist and philologist George Stephens suggesting, back in 1866, that “triquetra” is merely the “vulgar” or common term for a triskele. 

But these days when folks talk about triquetras, they’re almost always referring to the trefoil knot design.

Semantics aside, symbols that are similar to the Neolithic-era triple spirals or tri-spirals of ancient Ireland were also created in ancient Malta and in Mycenaean Greece.

So while the claim has been made that the presence of triskelions on Neolithic monuments that were built on what would become Celtic territories is proof that the Celts showed up thousands of years earlier than previously thought, that claim is lacking in substance. 

But that’s not to say the Celts didn’t love their spirals.

Celtic Curves: The La Tène Culture

Starting with the Iron Age La Tène culture, which would arrive in Britain and Ireland around 400 BCE, spirals and interlace became defining characteristics of early Celtic art, helping to pave the way for the more intricate knotwork of the later, Christian era.

Look no further than the Welsh island of Anglesey for one of the region’s largest collections of metalwork done in the La Tène style, with artifacts—including some bearing triskeles—having accumulated there between 300 BCE and 100 CE.

But despite the presence of Celtic triskeles in and around Britain, Ireland, and the Isle of Man, some scholars argue that the latter’s leggy logo has more in common with Norse designs, like this triquetra/triskele discovered in Denmark that consists of three interlaced horns, which, according to the aforementioned George Stephens’ 1866 book The Old-Northern Runic Monuments of Scandinavia and England, is “doubtless the mark of Thor.”

Given the Isle of Man was under Norse control for hundreds of years, it’s not an unreasonable hypothesis. 

Of course, there’s also the hypothesis that the design was lifted directly from the Sicilians following the King of Norway’s ceding of the Isle of Man to the King of Scotland in 1266, because the King of Scotland’s wife’s brother, who was the second surviving son of the King of England, had recently been styled the King of Sicily by the pope.

Don’t you just love history?

Anyway, I’d be remiss not to mention that the Celtiberians were also fans of the three-legged triskele, stamping the symbol on some of their coins. And just like the Sicilian version, the Celtiberian version has a face in the middle.

Was this an independent creation, or was it, perhaps, the result of Roman influence?

I don’t actually know, I’m asking you. 

But my broader point is this (and yes there’s a reason I’ve been going down this whole triskele-triskelion-triquetra rabbit hole):

As a design category, “Celtic knot” or “Celitc illumination” is a bit of a misnomer. Yes, it’s a useful and widespread term, but it doesn’t really capture the (oh god, I’m gonna do it again) interwovenness of the different cultures that went into the artform.

Case in point: While I’ve often thought of the triquetra as the quintessential Celtic knot, the knot you’re looking at right now…isn’t Celtic. It’s Scandinavian.

And this knot right here: Looks pretty Celtic, right? 

That’s a detail from a Saxon tomb.

And these two knots? 

They’re Roman. One’s from Wales, the other, England. 

And if you’re tempted to say, well, the Romans just lifted that knot design from the Brittonic/Brythonic-speaking Celts, i.e., the Britons, here’s another example of that same knot—this one from Roman Algeria.

Ultimately, what most of us think of as “Celtic” knotwork, myself included up until a few days ago, could be more accurately described as Hiberno-Saxon knotwork or Insular knotwork. 

For those unfamiliar with the terms above, Hiberno is a reference to the Classical Latin name for Ireland, Hibernia; the Saxons were a Germanic people who began settling (in large numbers) in post-Roman Britain; and Insular is derived from the Latin for “island” and is a reference to the islands of Ireland and Britain combined.

But even those terms fail to account for the Mediterranean (and other) influences that are present in the art but I guess the fact that said terms are rendered in Latin will have to do.

Top-Notch Knots: Insular Illuminations

Perhaps the best-known examples of Hiberno-Saxon a.k.a. Insular knotwork can be found in the Book of Kells, an illuminated manuscript crafted circa 800 CE. And if you haven’t seen the animated feature The Secret of Kells about its creation, do yourself a favor and pause this video right now and go watch it. 

Other early sources of Insular knotwork include The Gospels of MacRegol, also produced around 800 CE; the Lindisfarne Gospels, produced between 715 and 720 CE, and The Book of Durrow, produced circa 700 CE.

Many of the high crosses a.k.a. standing crosses scattered across Ireland, Britain, and the Isle of Man showcase the same style of knotwork, which makes sense given that they were built around the same time as the aforementioned illuminated manuscripts. 

And interestingly one of the oldest high crosses, if not the oldest, the Ruthwell Cross, which is now in Scotland, was erected in the early 700s when the territory was part of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Northumbria.

And guess who converted that Anglo-Saxon kingdom to Christianity prior to the cross’s construction?

Irish missionaries.

This again highlights the cross-pollination (I’m the worst) happening between different cultures. 

Because if you look at the Celtic stone monuments being created in Ireland just a few hundred years before in the pre-Christian era, like the Turoe Stone in County Galway, dated to between 100 BCE and 100 CE, you might notice a discernible lack of knotwork. Yes, we’ve got curvilinear designs, typical of the La Tène style, but they’re a far cry from the “Celtic” knots we’re all familiar with today.

Final Thought: Celtic Knots in Context

To clarify, my point here isn’t to belittle the artistic contributions of the Celts, it’s to put those contributions into the broader, multicultural context to which they belong.

Part of what I’m doing on this website is attempting to demystify Celtic culture and Celtic mythology, to show where “Celtic” ends and where “Irish” begins and to show how those two identities are intertwined. 

If that’s a journey you’re interested in going on, I encourage you to subscribe to receive email updates (using the form below) and/or to subscribe to the IrishMyths YouTube channel.

Thanks for reading.

---

Want to learn about the darker side of Irish and Celtic mythology? Check out…

Samhain in Your Pocket

---

Irish Monsters in Your Pocket

---

Neon Druid: An Anthology of Urban Celtic Fantasy

---

More the listenin’ type?

The IrishMyths StoryTime podcast is now live! Listen on YouTube or wherever you get your podcasts.