Two Crosses

Dupplin Cross and Barochan Cross
End of April already, which means Springtime is underway and Summer is on the horizon. This is a good time to think about visiting museums, historic sites and other heritage attractions.

If you’re planning a trip to Scotland this year, and hoping to see some fine examples of early medieval sculpture, the above illustration offers a couple of ideas. It incorporates two drawings by John Romilly Allen from an old book called The Early Christian Monuments of Scotland (published in 1903).

On the left, the Dupplin Cross, a magnificent Pictish stone from the early 9th century AD. It’s on display at St Serf’s Church in the village of Dunning in Perthshire.

On the right, the Barochan Cross, probably carved in the late 9th century. It’s Dark Age and Celtic, but not Pictish. This is a fine example of ‘Govan School’ sculpture and can be seen at Paisley Abbey.

Both crosses formerly stood outside on bare hillsides, exposed to the elements, but now they’re safely indoors. Both are impressive reminders of the artistry and craftsmanship of two of Scotland’s ancient peoples: the Picts and the Strathclyde Britons.

Either of these impressive crosses is well worth seeing, whether you’re heading north through Perthshire en route to the Highlands or traversing the southern edge of Glasgow.

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The Kilmorie Cross

Kilmorie Cross

Illustration from J. Stuart’s Sculptured Stones of Scotland


My list of ‘must see’ monuments includes this magnificent cross-slab from the Rhinns of Galloway. It originally stood near St Mary’s Chapel at Kilmorie but was moved in the early nineteenth century to Kirkcolm, two and a half miles away, where it was used as a door-lintel in the parish church. It was moved again in 1821, to the grounds of nearby Corsewall House. There it was photographed by a Mr Hunter of Newton Stewart, the resulting image being reproduced in Allen and Anderson’s Early Christian Monuments of Scotland of 1903. In 1989, the slab was returned to Kirkcolm church and placed in the churchyard where it resides today.

The slab is sometimes known as the Kilmorie Cross because of the large hammer-headed crosses on both sides. It stands a little over five feet high and is made of ‘greywacke’ sandstone. On one side, the hammerhead cross carries a rough representation of the Crucified Christ. Another figure stands below, flanked by two birds, a set of blacksmith’s tongs and an unidentified rectangular shape. It has been suggested that this lower figure is the Scandinavian hero Sigurd, juxtaposed with the Crucifixion to highlight the mingling of pagan and Christian beliefs in a region colonised by Vikings. On the other side of the slab, the hammerhead cross is decorated with spiral patterns, below which are two horns, a coiled serpent and a panel of interlace terminating in a pair of snakes.

Kilmorie Cross

Photographs from Allen & Anderson’s Early Christian Monuments of Scotland


The slab was probably carved in the tenth century, a very obscure period in Galloway’s history. The region takes its name from a people known as Gall-Gaidhil (‘Foreign Gaels’) whose origins are uncertain. They first turn up in the ninth century, as warbands serving Irish kings, probably as mercenaries. Their name suggests that they were Vikings who spoke Gaelic, or Gaels who behaved like Vikings. In the tenth and eleventh centuries, groups of Gall-Gaidhil seem to be in control of various seaways and coastlands in what is now South West Scotland, from Kintyre down to Galloway. At what point they gave their name to Galloway is unknown, but medieval chroniclers suggest that Gall-Gaidhil or ‘Galwegian’ lords ruled as far east as the district north of Carlisle. Current thinking envisages a sort of ‘Greater Galloway’ by c.1050, extending northward through Ayrshire to the Firth of Clyde, but whether this was a single realm or a patchwork of independent lordships is a mystery. The amount of Scandinavian culture introduced into this very large area is likewise a matter of debate. What the Kilmorie Cross seems to be telling us is that pagan Viking settlers and indigenous Christians were able to live side-by-side in one small corner of Galloway.

Map of Galloway

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Notes & references

Having not yet visited the Kilmorie Cross I don’t have any photographs of my own to accompany this blogpost. A couple of nice images can however be seen at the website of Kirkcolm parish church via these links to the ‘front’ and ‘back’ of the slab.

Kilmorie is a Gaelic place-name which may mean ‘Church of Mary’. Kirkcolm means ‘Church of Columba’, with Gaelic cille replaced by Old Norse kirkja.

The cultural affinities of Galloway’s early medieval sculpture have been discussed in a number of publications. A useful article is Derek Craig’s ‘Pre-Norman sculpture in Galloway: some territorial implications’, in Richard Oram & Geoffrey Stell (eds), Galloway: Land and Lordship (Edinburgh, 1991), pp.45-62.

The Kilmorie Cross is described on the Canmore database, which also has an entry for the old chapel of Kilmorie.

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The lost island of Saint Columba

Colonsay Cross

Sculptured cross from Riskbuie Chapel, Colonsay. Illustration from Allen & Anderson The Early Christian Monuments of Scotland (1903).


According to the vita or ‘Life’ of Saint Columba written by Adomnán at the end of the seventh century, the monastery on Iona had a number of satellites on various islands and coastlands around Argyll. One of these was on an island called Hinba and seems to have been the chief daughter-house of Iona. Adomnán tells us that it was founded by Columba himself and comprised not only a monastery but also a separate hermitage. Frustratingly, the precise location of Hinba is not made clear, so we are left to wonder which of the numerous Hebridean islands it was.

People have been suggesting possible identifications for Hinba for a long time, ever since modern historians first began to study Adomnán’s Vita Columbae. The obvious starting-point is to rule out those islands which are clearly identifiable in Adomnán’s narrative, such as Skye, Islay, Tiree, Eigg, Mull and of course Iona itself. None of these was Hinba, so the search is immediately narrowed. It also seems clear that Hinba lay at no great distance from Iona, for Columba was able to visit the satellite monastery quite easily and frequently. His uncle Ernán, who served as prior on Hinba, was able to undertake the sea-voyage to Iona when very elderly and in poor health.

Columba

The hermitage on Hinba was situated near what Adomnán calls Muirbulc Mar, ‘Great Sea-Bay’. As with some other places in Vita Columbae he gives the name entirely in Gaelic – his own native language – rather than rendering it into a Latinised form. Muirbulc Mar must have been a prominent feature, so any island without a large bay can effectively be ruled out in our search for Hinba. For example, the small island of Eileach an Naoimh, ‘Rocky isle of the Saints’, in the Garvelloch archipelago has been suggested as a possible candidate for Hinba but it doesn’t have a prominent sea-bay. Also, Hinba is a Gaelic name, so it is very unlikely that it would be given an additional or alternative Gaelic one. Indeed, it is far more likely that it today bears a name of Norse origin, as do many of the Hebridean islands.

The eminent place-name scholar William Watson proposed that Hinba derives from inbe, a Gaelic word meaning ‘incision’. In this context, the ‘incision’ would presumably be the great sea-bay of Muirbulc Mar. If Watson’s derivation is correct, the bay must have appeared to slice through the island, as if the sea had bitten a big chunk out of the coastline.

Only two candidates seem to tick all the boxes: Jura, which has a large sea-bay called Loch Tarbert; and the single island which is formed by Colonsay and Oronsay when the sea-bay between them is at low tide. Jura and Colonsay/Oronsay have Viking names, and we don’t know what they were called in Adomnán’s time. Jura has an early church dedicated to Columba; Oronsay has a medieval priory with a Columba dedication and an old tradition of having been founded by the saint. In favour of Colonsay and Oronsay is the observation that they are closer to Iona.

The upshot is that the puzzle of Hinba remains unsolved. This mysterious island, so important in the early history of the Columban familia or network of monasteries, seems to float beyond our reach. My own view is that it is now the single island formed by Colonsay and Oronsay at low tide, and that Oronsay Priory stands on the site of Columba’s monastery.

Oronsay Priory

Oronsay Priory

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Notes

References to Hinba in Adomnán’s Vita Columbae occur at: Book 1, chapters 21 & 45; Book 2, chapter 24; Book 3, chapters 5, 17, 18 & 23. The Latin edition I use is the one edited by Alan and Marjorie Anderson in 1961 (revised in 1991). For an English version I use the Andersons’ translation and the one by Richard Sharpe for Penguin Classics (1995).

I discuss Hinba on pp.109-11 of my book on Saint Columba.

A useful summary of the various Hinba theories can be found on pp.91-102 of Alan Macquarrie’s The Saints of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1997).

Hinba is the island where Saint Columba narrowly escaped being murdered. The story is told in my blogpost Columba and the Pirates.

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Columba and the Pirates

Pirates
Two hundred years before the first Viking longships appeared off the west coast of Scotland, the Hebridean seaways were stalked by home-grown pirates. One band of cut-throats plied their trade in the late sixth century, when Saint Columba was abbot of the monastery he had founded on Iona. They were led by the sons of Conall mac Domnaill, an obscure figure of whom we know almost nothing beyond the name. According to Adomnán, author of Vita Columbae (‘Life of Columba’), Conall’s sons were members of the royal house of Gabrán, by which he presumably meant the Cenél nGabráin dynasty of Kintyre, but their position within this powerful kindred is unknown. They may have belonged to a rogue branch, perhaps to a family regarded as rivals of the chief lineage headed by Columba’s royal patron Áedán mac Gabráin. The actual number of Conall’s sons is unknown, as are the names of all but one of them: Ioan mac Conaill mac Domnaill, a ruthless sea-robber far removed from the image of the ‘jolly buccaneer’ embodied by Jack Sparrow.

Adomnán introduces us to the sons of Conall in the tale of a visit by Columba to the mainland, to the peninsula of Ardnamurchan above the north end of the Isle of Mull. There dwelt a farmer called Colmán whom Columba had befriended. Columba sometimes stayed with Colmán as a house-guest, presumably when he needed a base for religious work on the mainland. The saint was not there, however, on one fateful day when the sons of Conall came to Ardnamurchan in search of easy pickings.

Columba
The pirates came ashore and attacked Colmán’s house, breaking in to snatch whatever they could find. Filling their boat with the farmer’s belongings, they headed back out to sea. Colmán and his family survived the assault, no doubt by running to safety as soon as the raiders appeared, but their ordeal was far from over. In a grim replay of the first attack, the sons of Conall paid a return visit and did the same thing all over again. Colmán was not a wealthy man and had no means of defending his home and kin. The pirates were no doubt aware of this, hence their return for a third raid. This time, however, Columba was on Ardnamurchan with some monks from Iona. Although not at Colmán’s house when the attack came, the saint was not far away and reappeared just as the raiders were about to sail off with their loot. He confronted them on the seashore, urging them to yield up their plunder and abandon their violent ways. His pleading brought a scornful response from the pirate-chief Ioan, who promptly sailed away without any hint of remorse.

Stung by Ioan’s mockery and indifference, Columba waded out into the water and lifted his hands in prayer. There he stayed until the pirate ship disappeared over the horizon. He rejoined his monks, who had watched the entire incident, and together they went up to a higher point above the shore. Columba told his companions that Ioan’s wickedness would not go unpunished, for God was about to deal out a suitable retribution. Sure enough, even as the monks gazed out to sea, a terrible storm arose in the distance. Sweeping southward, it caught the pirates as they sailed between the islands of Mull and Coll, capsizing their vessel and drowning all who were aboard.

The sudden storm did not, however, end the menace of the sons of Conall. It appears that not all of Ioan’s brothers were on the boat that capsized, for Columba encountered the gang again during a visit to the island of Hinba. On this occasion he found himself in serious danger and only narrowly avoided being slain. The encounter came after he received disturbing news that these same pirates were attacking churches on Hinba, where one of his own satellite monasteries was located. Arriving on the island, he gathered a small party of monks and again confronted the sons of Conall. Castigating them for defiling the sanctity of churches he announced that he had decided to excommunicate them. This threat clearly enraged the pirates, who were at least nominally Christian. One of them – a henchman of Conall’s sons who went by the nickname Lám Dess (‘Right Hand’) – strode towards Columba and lunged viciously with his spear. A quick-thinking monk called Findlugán bravely put himself in the way and took the thrust, but was miraculously unharmed (according to Adomnán, this was because Findlugán happened to be wearing Columba’s hooded cloak). Amid the confusion, Lám Dess was sure he had hit his intended target and believed that a mortal wound had been given to the saint.

What happened afterwards is not reported by Adomnán but the excommunication was presumably put in place. Whether it changed the behaviour of the sons of Conall seems unlikely, given that they plainly had no qualms about attacking religious settlements. It was, nevertheless, the most drastic punishment Columba could deal out and, in an age of superstition, it may have worried some of the gang. It was evidently of little concern to Lám Dess, who was still living a life of violence one year later when he was killed in a fight on another island. After a brief notice of his death, we hear nothing more of the sons of Conall in Vita Columbae.

Saint Columba

A depiction of St Columba by J.R. Skelton (1907)

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The story of the pirates appears on pages 118 to 121 of my book Columba.

The relevant references in Vita Columbae are in chapters 22 (Ioan) and 24 (Lám Dess) of Book Two.

Although Adomnán mentions the island of Hinba a number of times its precise location is unknown. Several theories have been proposed, based on clues given in Vita Columbae. One theory identifies Hinba as the two-part island formed by Colonsay and Oronsay, and this is the one I favour at the moment. See my blogpost on The lost island of Saint Columba.

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Kirkmadrine: a major monastery?

Kirkmadrine Church

Kirkmadrine Church (Photo © B Keeling

The Centre for Scottish and Celtic Studies at the University of Glasgow hosts a series of lectures, many of which I would dearly love to attend if I could get there easily. Those of us who don’t reside within a 200-mile radius of Glasgow can, however, see useful summaries of the lectures at the Centre’s blog.

Back in May, a lecture that I was particularly sorry to miss was given by Katherine Forsyth and Adrián Maldonado. Their title was A magnum monasterium in South West Scotland? New work on Kirkmadrine and its stones. Kirkmadrine, as many readers of this blog will know, is in the Rhinns of Galloway, ten miles south of Stranraer. It has a little church – in a quiet, rural setting – and three Early Christian memorial stones, one of which commemorates two sacerdotes (‘chief priests’ or bishops). I’ve visited Kirkmadrine a couple of times and it’s definitely one of those places with a special kind of aura.

In the first part of the lecture, Dr Maldonado placed the church in its topographical context, looking at the pre-modern landscape via old maps and antiquarian accounts. He drew attention to the surrounding boggy terrain and to a number of nearby springs and suggested that the church seems to be located within a pre-Christian ritual landscape. He also pointed out that no archaeological excavations have taken place at Kirkmadrine since 1889.

The lecture continued with Dr Forsyth explaining that the Early Christian stones can be dated to the mid-sixth/early seventh century. They are therefore earlier than the oldest ecclesiastical sculpture at nearby Whithorn, traditionally identified as the site of a monastery associated with the famous sixth-century saints Ninian and Finnian (who might be one and the same). Moreover, Dr Forsyth observed that Whithorn didn’t become an important ecclesiastical centre until a later period, its earliest Christian stones being memorials to a secular elite. Kirkmadrine, on the other hand, with its high-ranking sacerdotes, was evidently an organized religious community at the very time when Ninian and Finnian were active. Perhaps, then, we should think of Kirkmadrine, not Whithorn, as the place associated with these two saints? In this scenario, Kirkmadrine’s early importance would have been eclipsed when Whithorn became the centre of an English (Northumbrian) bishopric in the late seventh century and, subsequently, the focus of a major cult devoted to Ninian. The scenario is certainly worth considering, not least because it fits rather neatly with the sculptural evidence from both sites, but it has significant implications for our traditional view of early monastic settlement in Galloway.

Kirkmadrine Stone

The sacerdotes stone, now protected behind glass (Photo © B Keeling)

Below is a link to the lecture summary at the CSCS blog.

A magnum monasterium in South West Scotland? New work on Kirkmadrine and its stones

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A note on the place-name

Kirkmadrine probably means ‘Church of Mathurinus’ or ‘Church of My-Drine’ (where ‘my’ has the honorific meaning ‘my dear’). William Watson in CPNS (The History of the Celtic Place-Names of Scotland, 1922) thought Drine might be an Anglicized form of Gaelic Draigne (pronounced ‘Droyn’). An otherwise unknown Draigne, identified as a Briton, appears in an ancient Irish list of saints. See CPNS, pp.162-3.

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Columba 1450

Iona Abbey

Iona Abbey (engraving by J Greig, 1817)


Three days ago, on Saturday 20 July, the President of Ireland – Michael D Higgins – visited Iona Abbey to attend an ecumenical service marking the 1450th anniversary of St Columba’s arrival on the western shores of Britain in 563. Scottish Culture Secretary Fiona Hyslop gave a speech in which she drew attention to the numerous historical links between Ireland and Scotland: “St Columba’s journey to Iona is just one of the many events which have created our strong bond with Ireland and it’s important that we recognise and celebrate the continuing significance of this remarkable man and the community he founded.”

With a small band of companions, Columba left his Irish homeland to establish a monastery on the tiny Hebridean isle. He died there in 597, after a long and distinguished ecclesiastical career which brought him into contact with some of the key figures of the sixth century – renowned abbots and powerful kings on both sides of the Irish Sea.

To celebrate the 1450th anniversary, I’m planning a short series of blogposts on Columba, highlighting episodes from his career as presented in the vita or ‘Life’ written by Adomnán, ninth abbot of Iona. The series will be fairly random, in topic as well as frequency, and will simply reflect those parts of the vita that particularly caught my eye while writing my own book about Columba (see below).

Columba

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Newsnet Scotland, 20 July 2013 – President of Ireland visits Iona

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Save The Whithorn Trust

Sculptured cross at Whithorn

Sculptured cross at Whithorn (illustration from The Early Christian Monuments of Scotland, 1903)


The Whithorn Trust has a funding shortfall of £18,500 and will be forced to shut down this summer. If this happens, its museum and visitor centre will also close. The news was announced yesterday at the Trust’s website.

The visitor centre tells the story of Whithorn from its Early Christian beginnings to the time when its medieval priory was a renowned pilgrimage venue. With a history spanning more than 1500 years, Whithorn stands alongside Iona and St Andrews as one of the most important religious sites in Scotland. It began sometime around AD 500, as a monastery and trading centre with links to the Mediterranean. Later, in the seventh century, it was taken over by the Anglo-Saxons and became the headquarters of a Northumbrian bishopric. Throughout the Middle Ages it was a major destination for pilgrims who came to see the shrine of Saint Ninian, the monk who is said to have founded the first monastery.

As well as the visitor centre, the Whithorn Trust has a small museum housing a collection of archaeological finds. Many of these were unearthed during excavations undertaken by the Trust itself. They provide an essential context for the early medieval sculpture displayed in the nearby Priory Museum. By visiting both museums, the visitor obtains a full picture of Whithorn’s story, from Ninian’s time to the pilgrimage era. The Priory Museum, which has the Latinus Stone and other famous monuments, is maintained by Historic Scotland and is not threatened with closure, but the experience of visiting the Priory site and the sculpture will be lessened by the demise of the Whithorn Trust.

If the Trust’s museum closes, its collection of Anglo-Saxon coins and pilgrim artifacts will be placed in storage by the local council or transferred to another museum. They are unlikely to remain at Whithorn, their place of origin. There is no guarantee that they will still be accessible to the public.

Closure of the museum will remove one of Galloway’s main tourist attractions and will inevitably have an impact on the local economy. Galloway, like other rural regions of Southern Scotland, has always had to compete with Edinburgh and the Highlands for a share of the tourism market. Attracting new visitors, and presenting them with interesting places to explore, is surely the way forward. The loss of a museum seems a backward step.

If you feel that the closure of the Whithorn Trust will be a tragedy for Scotland, click the link below and sign the petition.

Save the Whithorn Trust

The campaign also has a Facebook page.

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