Known as the land of saints and scholars, Ireland has always valued knowledge, learning and literature very highly. Before printing, we had a strong tradition of storytelling, and many Irish gifts have a link to a legend. Yes, our legends are full of fighting and battles with chieftains battling for land, cattle and prestige. But our trove of tales also includes a lot of love stories and magic, and one of the most famous is about the value of gaining knowledge.
Knowledge, more than fighting skill or bravery, is what made Fionn Mac Cumhaill (aka Finn Mac Cool) one of Ireland’s most elite and beloved legendary leaders, with his image even appearing on some Irish gifts and his many tales woven into legends and songs.
Autumn is when the Atlantic salmon migrate from the sea to the rivers where they hatched to spawn, so it is the perfect time for the legend of the Salmon of Knowledge and Fionn MacCumhaill.
Legendary Irish Jewelry
Fionn Mac Cumhaill and the Salmon of Knowledge
As a boy, Fionn was sent to live with Finnegas, a wise old poet who was respected throughout Ireland for his deep understanding of nature and poetry. Finnegas, despite being considered the most knowledgeable man in Ireland, yearned to know even more. He spent years trying to catch the famous Salmon of Knowledge who lived in the River Boyne. Whoever ate this salmon would be granted all of the world’s knowledge. This salmon had gained its knowledge by eating hazelnuts that fell from nine sacred trees that fell into the water. The druids revered this salmon, and Finnegas made it his mission to eat it.
One of the jobs Finnegas set for Fionn was to capture this fish. Fionn was a strong lad, quick and capable. He soon succeeded, and he proudly carried the salmon to Finnegas. The old poet was overjoyed, and he sent the boy to cook the huge fish on a spit over the fire, warning him not to so much as taste a tiny bite.
How Fionn Was Filled with Knowledge
Fionn dutifully prepared the salmon carefully, roasting it on the spit, turning it frequently. As it cooked, a bit of hot grease splattered onto Fionn’s thumb. His immediate reflex was to put his burnt thumb into his mouth.
He brought the cooked salmon to Finnegas, who quickly saw something was different in the lad’s eyes. Did you eat the salmon, he asked? No, Fionn, said, not a bite! They looked at each other, and Finnegas didn’t touch the fish.
Are you absolutely certain you didn’t taste this fish? Finnegas asked. Fionn thought a moment. Wait sir, some grease splattered onto my thumb as I turned the spit. It burned, and I put my thumb into my mouth.
Finnegas’s heart broke, but he couldn’t be angry at the boy. He knew enough to know it was only instinct, and perhaps it was Fionn who was meant to have the knowledge.
Finnegas gave the plate to the lad and urged him to eat, explaining what had happened. When Fionn protested that he didn’t feel any wiser, the poet suggested he put his thumb in his mouth again. When he did, Fionn’s brain was illuminated with knowledge and understanding. He grew up to the most famous, fierce and beloved warrior of ancient Ireland. And we still see his image and motifs of salmon on many Irish gifts.