Triquetra

 The Trinity knot or Triquetra ( try-KWEH-truh; from the Latin triquetrus "three-cornered") is the best known and most loved of all the traditional Celtic knots. This simplest of Celtic knots, has emerged as a sort of logo for Celtic identity. It is one of the few knots with a widely used name. As a symbol, it also has greater credibility than many of the named knots that abound in the marketplace of Celtic artifacts. The simple trefoil knot, composed of three arcs with three corners and three crossings weaves a single cord into an endless path.

Triquetra details from 8th century Book of Kells 

Three is a fascinating and balanced number that naturally lends itself to art, allegory, storytelling and metaphysical imagination. How many jokes begin with three characters? A priest, a minister, and a rabbi go into a bar, or was it a Scotsman and Irishman and an Englishman? There are, of course, many interpretations of triune symbols other than that of Trinitarian Christian tradition. Past, present, and future. Body, mind, and soul. Mother, father, and child. Land, sea, and sky. The three ages of woman; virgin, mother, and crone. [Barbara G. Walker, The Woman’s Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects, 1988, pgs 34 & 42] A less earthy version would be daughter, mother and grandmother. In my own family, no joke, those lassies would be a blond, a brunette and a redhead!

Trinitarian symbols and signs are a recurring theme in Celtic art. As it appears in the Early Christian period, beginning in the 7^th century, the triquetra is widely interpreted as a symbol of the Holy Trinity, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  The triple spiral or triskele also occurs with great frequency. Clusters of three dots often decorate the clothing of sacred persons in the Golden Age of Celtic Art, 7^th to 10^th centuries AD.

The medieval sculptors who carved Celtic designs in stone and the scribes who produced such highly decorated manuscripts as The Book of Kells did not leave written commentary about their intended symbolism. When modern archeology was in its infancy in the early 19^th century researchers decoded, as best they could, by examining the context in which motifs were used.

The earliest reference I have seen that uses the word “triquetra” is from Dr. George Petrie’s 1845 book The Ecclesiastical Architecture of Ireland [pgs 318 & 319] Writing on the ornaments of Irish artifacts from the ages prior to the Norman Conquest of Ireland (12^th century AD) Petrie writes, “Of these, one of the most general and remarkable is that curious triangular figure known among medallists by the name of triquetra, and which is formed by the ingenious interlacing of a single cord or line. In the creation of varieties, almost endless, of this figure, the Irish ceards, or artificers, as well as the scribes found an ample field for the exercise of their fancy in design.” He goes on to state, “… from it’s frequent appearance on all of our ecclesiastical antiquities would appear to have been used as a mystical type of the Trinity.”

Sir Daniel Wilson, the Scottish scholar who first coined the word “prehistoric”, also commented on the triquetra as a sign of the Holy Trinity in his foundational 1851 book, The Archaeology and Prehistoric Annals of Scotland. [Pg 221]

The paper trail of understanding Celtic art continued in 1861 with the publication of a beautiful book that I personally think gives us a glimpse into the imagination and intuitive beliefs behind the formal and responsible scholarship of the time. The Cromlech on Howth is more of a work of art than it is an academic tome. It is what we would today call a coffee table book. This book was a collaboration between three contributors (how appropriate!), each of a different generation. The main text of the book is a poem about the Cromlech, a massive neolithic stone monument that is imagined to be the tomb of Aideen, wife of the great warrior chief Oscar. Legend has it that Aideen died of grief at the news of her husband’s death at the Battle of Gavra. The book pools the talent of poet Sir Samuel Ferguson, 1810-1886, with that of artist Miss Margaret Stokes, 1832-1900, and the above-mentioned Dr. George Petrie, 1790-1866, who provided antiquarian commentary.

The interpretive text in the back of The Cromlech on Howth restates a more developed argument by Petrie for the triquetra to be understood as a sign of the Holy Trinity. It also contains this very poetic statement about the nature and purpose of Celtic art: “Indeed, all the interlacings and plaitings so common in Celtic ornamentation seem an effort to express and create a sense of difficulty, and something intricate yet not confused. In their entangled coils and infinite windings, in their strange knottings and network, they form indeed fit symbols of the inexplicable mystery of our faith and of our life.” [Cromlech on Howth, 1861, Notes on Celtic Ornamental Art, revised by George Petrie, page 25. Original author unknown, probably Margaret Stokes]

The 19^th century writings about the triquetra cited here were part of the newly emerging desire to understand an art form which had largely been neglected.  Indeed, each of these works began with a lament that previous generations of scholars had taken so little interest in the subject. The mysterious and complex interlace of Celtic art suggested deep meaning. By calling out the Triquetra by name and suggesting a very specific sacred meaning, it was easy to assume that other knots carried similar messages. There is certainly evidence that at least some of the medieval Celtic knotwork was symbolic, but this has never been a settled issue. Writing in 1903 J. Romilly Allen took an opposing position, “With the exception of the instances at Meigle and at Llanfrynach, in Brecknockshire, the triquetra is used for purely ornamental purposes, and there is not the least foundation for the theory that it is symbolic of the Holy Trinity. If the triquetra knot had ever any symbolical significance at all it was probably in pagan times and in that case it probably had some affinity with the triskele..." [Allen, Early Christian Monuments of Scotland, pg 305]

Allen's premise seems to be based on the observation that the triquetra (and other interlace designs) play a decorative role and are not given the prominence of placement that one would assume an important symbol should have. By comparison, carved crosses are frequently very plain, but also many be very elaborately decorated. In most cases the cross is the dominant feature of the artwork. In early Christian Celtic sculpture, we do not see any stand-alone triquetra carvings, but cross carvings are plentiful.

In more recent times triquetras have decorated churches, Bibles, ecclesiastical vestments and all manner of devotional, as well as secular artifacts. If you tend to agree with Allen’s skepticism of a Trinity symbolism, I don’t suggest you try explaining it to the person who has had it tattooed on their skin as an act of devotion. The triquetra has been used as a Trinity symbol throughout the entire 20^th century and for decades before that. Personally, I am more inclined to agree with George Petrie’s opinion, but if indeed Romilly Allen was correct, it does not cancel the symbolic intent of those who have rendered triquetras more recently. Artists and designers of the Celtic Revival have used the triquetra in good faith based on the scholarship of the leading experts of their day.

But wasn’t this stuff all Pagan first? A very common theme in recent decades has been the claim that Celtic art, as well as pretty much anything else described as Celtic is authentically pagan and was appropriated by Christians. Barbara G. Walker makes this case in her afore mentioned book. (My mother is also named Barbara Walker. Barbara G. is not related, but my Mom did correspond with Barbara G. about knitting!) The Irish artist/antiquarian/nationalist Henry O’Neill (1800-1880) also made a case for pagan origins in several of his books, but in a very different way.

O'Neill, in his 1857 book Illustrations of the Most Interesting of the Sculptured Crosses of Ancient Ireland writes, "I think that ancient Irish art was pagan, and was continued during the Christian period, just as the peculiar form of the Irish cross is pagan, or as the names of the months, or of the days of the week are pagan; these, and a great deal more of paganism, having continued, owing to the tenacity with which a people retain their general habits and ideas."

O’Neill was all about ancient Irish art being purely native and untainted by the imperialism of Rome or the Anglo-Saxons who invaded the Celtic lands of England after the Roman withdrawal in the 5^th century AD. He imagined that the style of The Book of Kells and other masterpieces of that era was a survival from the pre-Christian culture of Ireland. To many in the 19^th century, the wonderful beauty, skill and imagination of Celtic art was seen as proof of the civilization and sophistication of the ancient Irish. The knotwork motifs of Celtic art, in fact, didn’t reach the Gaelic world of Scotland and Ireland until sometime in the 7^th century AD, well after Christianity was introduced. It was then that it created a fusion with spiral elements that were survivals of an earlier native Celtic tradition. Knotwork was not unique to the Celtic lands. There certainly were non-Christian cultures who used woven and knotted designs before they took root in Ireland.

The Celtic-art-is-pagan narrative is a complicated tangle of truth, half-truths and fiction. The 18^th & 19^th century Romantic Movement had a soft spot for the medieval and tended to over-interpret pre-Christian survivals in folk culture. The novels of Sir. Walter Scott described superstitions and folk practices in the Scottish Highlands that were often romantic exaggerations. The popularity of this sort of fiction had skewed the common imagination and understanding of historical culture in much the same way that the exaggerations and inaccuracies of the Mel Gibson 1995 film Braveheart continued to do in more recent times. O’Neill was forming his opinions about Irish Celtic art at a time when the Romantic Movement notions were at their peak.

A highly visible pop-culture use of the Triquetra was on the cover of the Book of Shadows in the popular television drama series Charmed [WB Network 1998-2006] in which three sisters invoke the Power of Three as they magically fight evil. This association of the Triquetra with witchcraft and New Age beliefs had become well established by the early 1990s, perhaps in part because Barbara G. Walker’s books had given the notion plausible credibility. Many university Women’s Studies programs included Walker’s books in their reading lists.

Marketing and fantasy have had as much of an influence on the modern interpretation of Celtic art and symbolism, perhaps even more impact, than archaeology and scholarship. With time these influences have diffused together in the collective consciousness to form a modern folklore, steeped in dreams of the past and carried forward by new generations of artists and storytellers. There is a certain cultural consensus that the unending knots of the Celtic tradition are signs of just that, tradition. Concepts of continuum, eternity, and an interwoven connection between past, present, and future. Just as the style itself is a visual cultural theme, the triquetra is emblematic of cherished history, faith, and identity.

Triquetra Trinity knot jewelry crafted in gold and silver from Walker Metalsmiths

Author Stephen Walker is a jewelry designer since the 1970s. He has written and lectured on technical subjects relating to Celtic jewelry as well as interpretations of symbolic and cultural relevance. He has made presentations at Celtic Art related conferences in Ireland, Scotland, England and Australia. In 2019 he hosted the 1st International Day of Celtic Art Conference in Andover, NY. This series then continues in Ireland at Downpatrick in 2023 and will be held in Listowel, Co. Kerry in June 2026.