Writing to God? Literacy and the Early Christian Stones of Southern Scotland

What can be said of the beginnings of literacy in Scotland? The period in question covers quite an extensive length of time, broadly speaking the entire first millennium AD. But you will be happy to know I am mainly confining myself today to the fifth to seventh centuries AD and to a specific group of Christian monuments from what is now southern Scotland below the Forth-Clyde line.

To start with, I thought I would give a brief introduction of the post-Roman and early medieval peoples in northern Britain, so to hopefully clarify what comes after for those of you unfamiliar with this period of Scottish history. What is now modern day Scotland was made up of numerous developing kingdoms and provinces of four main peoples whose identities seem to have coalesced at varying points from the Roman period onwards: the Britons, the Picts, the Scots and the Angles.

Generally, the Britons, who spoke an early form of Welsh, were located in the south and south-west of what is now Scotland below the Forth-Clyde line. It is their Christian monuments I will return to later. Their largest and most studied kingdoms were that of the Gododdin, centred on the Lothians, Rheged, which seems to have possibly spanned southern Dumfries and Galloway and down into Cumbria and Lancashire, and the kingdom of Alt Clut, which was based at Dumbarton Rock. The Picts were to the north of this and spoke a similar P-Celtic language to the Britons. We know the names of a few specific kingdoms that developed amongst these peoples, and there appears to have been some sub-divisions between the northern and southern Picts, with the kingdom of Fortriu emerging in the north as a powerful force in the seventh and eighth centuries. The Scots, who spoke Q-Celtic Old Irish, were located in the west, with the kingdom or collection of sub-kingdoms known as Dal Riata in what is now Argyll and the Inner Hebrides. The Anglian settlement spread into Scotland from the south-east from at least the early seventh century and consisted of the kingdoms of Bernicia and Deira, which combined in later periods to form Northumbria. They spoke an embryonic form of the originally Germanic language that I am speaking now: English.

The study of literacy in early medieval Europe has mainly focused on the evidence of manuscripts. There are a few manuscripts from before 1000 AD in Ireland and Wales, such as the sixth or seventh century Cathach of St Columba, and many more survive in England and on the Continent. However, compared to the rest of Britain and Ireland, Scotland is notably lacking in early manuscripts. There are no early Pictish or North British manuscripts that survive at all. From the Gaelic west there is a better survival rate. For example, the Schaffhausen manuscript preserved at St Gall is the oldest surviving copy of Adomnán of Iona's Life of Columba. Most believe it was copied on Iona during or shortly following Adomnán's lifetime in the late seventh or early eighth century and was subsequently taken to the Continent.

Arguably one of the earliest surviving manuscripts from the rest Scotland is the Book of Deer from Old Deer in Aberdeenshire. This is an illuminated Gospel Book which has generally been dated to the end of the ninth century and the beginning decades of the tenth, with later additions from the eleventh century. This is notably later than examples surviving from the rest of the British Isles and Ireland. The question that begs answering is then why are there no surviving manuscripts from before the late ninth/early tenth century? One answer would be that there were no manuscripts in the first place; that this most obvious expression of literacy had not spread so far north until then. Another may be that Pictish and northern British documents were unlikely to have continued to be preserved and copied in the new ‘Scottish’ kingdom of Alba and so are lost to history. There are also the destructive forces of time, Viking raids and the Reformation to contend with. Whatever the case, the result would be the same. For Scotland then the direct study of manuscripts is not suitable in the search for the evidence for the beginnings of literacy or the means to assess its use and impact except for later periods.

We know that there must have been literate people in Scotland in the early medieval period prior to the ninth century. Christianity was reasonably well established in many regions by the seventh century and conversion processes seem to have been in motion in the late Roman period. Although no liturgical or biblical texts survive, it is implausible that they did not exist as the Church could not function without them. Literacy in Scotland may not have been dependant on Christianity, but Christianity as a religion of the book was certainly dependant on literacy by this time. For the Church to function efficiently a considerable amount of writing was required; Psalters, Gospel Books, the Letters of Paul and other books of the Bible were just the start. Jane Stevenson in her work on the St Patrick and Book of Armagh has concisely stated that if Patrick founded a Christian church among the Irish, or was ministering to Christians in the fifth century, he would also have had to found a school of Latin literacy and biblical study if the Church was to survive after his death. The same would have been true for the early churches and Christians in Pictland. We know of no evidence to suggest that the church in Pictland and among the Britons was culturally or intellectually deviant to elsewhere. In his eighth century Historia Ecclesiastica, Bede states that the four peoples of Britain were united in their use of Latin during his time. All four peoples to whom he referred lived in what is now Scotland. Bede even names a literate Pict: king Nechtan mac Der-Ilei had assiduously studied ecclesiastical writings before his consultation by letter with the abbot of Wearmouth-Jarrow. There are depictions of figures holding or reading books and carrying book satchels on Pictish sculpture, such as at Nigg, St Vigeans, Aberlemno and the possible shrine slab from Papil, Shetland.

What then can be said about the beginnings of literacy in Scotland? What was the impact of literacy on the population? How was literacy used in society? How significant was the link with Christianity and Romanitas? What did it actually mean to be literate in this period? Who learnt to read and write? How did they do so and why? My research will hopefully answer these questions and more in due course through a series of case studies. Most previous work in Scotland has been focused on the study of inscriptions, both on monuments of various functions and smaller portable artefacts. This has mainly concerned the content of the inscriptions and centred on epigraphic, palaeographic, art-historical and linguistic studies. Little work has been concerned with the impact of the spread and use of literacy that these inscriptions and other evidence could shed light on. It is hoped that new research will remedy this.

One case-study I am focusing on and will put forth to you here is an examination of the earliest inscribed Christian monuments of southern Scotland and their background. As a whole, these are a group of twelve stone pillars inscribed with Latin, geographically spread from the Solway to the Forth and dating from the fifth to early seventh century. They are the northern branch of a wider cultural tradition of more the 240 monuments known from much of the British speaking regions in the west of Britain surrounding the Irish Sea and which spanned the sub-Roman and early medieval periods. Nearby, there are earlier and contemporary examples from northern England, north-east Ireland and the Isle of Man. I will be looking at a certain number to show what use was made of the skills of literacy in this period.

Literacy and Christianity can be traced into the late-Roman period in northern Britain. The work of Mark Handley has shown that the early inscribed stones of Scotland share many features with the late Roman inscriptions of Britain and should be seen as part of a larger pattern of epigraphic practice also indicated in Spain, Italy, France and North Africa during late antiquity and into the early medieval period. It is important to include the late- and sub-Roman material as the sculptural phenomenon was part of a longer tradition of commemoration. The evidence may help us to see how the function of such monuments might have changed over time and so how literacy was mobilised in different ways to fulfil certain needs. Katherine Forsyth has shown that the early stones are not one discrete school of monumental practise, but rather they are reflections of continuing contacts with the south and the Irish Sea world over a long time. It is my belief that these contacts were very much rooted in the late Roman period and earlier. We know the Romans erected inscribed stone monuments and memorials. There are plenty of examples from all over Roman Britain. Charles Thomas has reminded us that there was also in Britain and much of the Atlantic west of Europe a long tradition of stone monuments in prehistory, including the use of stone orthostats. The inscribed monuments of Scotland may be best seen as dynamic reuse of a monument tradition already known to Britain and incorporating creative native responses to the availability of new material culture from long term contact with the Roman Empire and the rest of Britain and Europe.

In terms of the Roman influence, the most recent research into the Romans in Scotland no longer points to a short-lived military intervention. There is recognition that Scotland was an active participant in the world of late Roman Britain and that Roman influence was not likely to have been linear and diffusionist. The evidence is for continued and constantly changing contact with the Romans from the second century onwards. This active participation with Roman Britain with its various tones of adaptation, resistance and accommodation mean we must allow for the possibility that Scotland participated in Roman religious practices as well. This is confirmed by two rare Roman alters found in 2010 in Musselburgh, one bearing a carved inscription dedicating the altar to the god Mithras. Excavation along the line of Hadrian’s Wall suggests that along this frontier zone dramatic changes occurred from the fourth century. There appears to have been a change in frontier strategy with the replacement of the standing Roman army with locally recruited and hereditary limitanei troops and the head-quarters of several forts were remodelled as aristocratic residences. Evidence such as this helps our understanding of the interaction between the peoples of northern Britain. We know there was a considerable amount of Roman material culture in circulation in Scotland from the second century and its distribution is best explained by a high level of negotiation with Roman officials with the giving and receiving of diplomatic gifts and ‘bribes’ to buy peace. In this situation there would have been movement both ways and some cultural similarities might be expected to exist on either side of the official frontier. As it happens, we have such evidence: these are the early Christian inscribed monuments of southern Scotland and their counterparts in northern England.

One of the most famous of these monuments is the Latinus Stone from Whithorn in Dumfries and Galloway, the site traditionally associated with the early British saint, Ninian. This is an unworked stone orthostat dates from the fifth century and displays a relatively long Latin inscription in Roman capitals reading: ‘We praise the Lord. Latinus, aged 35 years and his daughter aged 4 years. The grandson of Barrovadus set up this memorial’. This stone draws on two monumental traditions, Roman memorials and prehistoric tradition of unworked stone orthostats. The stone is inscribed with an early Chi-Ro monogram of Constantinian form, a form found mostly in Romano-British contexts. The inscription is in Latin and uses Roman capitals, the language and script of Christianity and the Empire, in a classically-inspired horizontal layout. We also have here an unambiguously Christian dedication, an explicit reference of praise to God. We also have a conspicuously Latin name as well as specific mention of a British name and line of descent. We do not know where this memorial was set up originally, it was found in a secondary context. Conceivably the Latinus Stone could have stood in an early inhumation cemetery or perhaps beside an early church.  It also may have been moved to Whithorn from elsewhere. Katherine Forsyth draws attention to a stone on the Isle of Whithorn just to the south which looks out onto the Solway and directly towards Maryport on the Cumbrian coast, site of a Roman fort and probably the garrison of the Solway fleet. Was this more like the original site of the Latinus Stone?

The Catstane from Kirkliston, West Lothian, is a similar early Latin inscribed stone, dedicated to Vetta son/daughter of Victricius. The text in Latin using Roman capitals, it is laid out horizontally, expresses Christian sentiment, mentions a Latin name and details familial links. The memorial is also an unworked stone orthostat. It is believed the Catstane is in its original position, marking a special grave in a cemetery containing a short cist with a cremation as well as oriented long-cist inhumations. The site is beside an old road close to where it crossed the boundary of a medieval parish and a crossing of the River Almond, which flows into the sea about 5km to the north guarded by the former Roman coastal fort of Cramond. This Roman site shows activity into the fourth century, and later became the centre of the medieval parish. The place-name Kirkliston is made up partially of the early British cognate of Welsh llys, ‘court or hall’, and Gaelic lios, ‘domestic enclosure’. It appears that this place-name element in eastern Scotland indicated an important administrative centre and aristocratic residence. It is believed the parish was based on an earlier secular administration unit. If this is so, the Catstane and the cemetery would have been the first thing a traveller saw going west along the river entering the estate.

These two monuments, the Catstane and the Latinus Stone, seem to be linked with a group of around twelve so-called ‘extended Latinate’ inscriptions from western Britain dated on paleographical grounds to the fifth century. A nearby example would be the Brigomaglos Stone from Chesterholm in Northumberland, found in the late-Roman fort of Vindolanda. These share the classically-inspired horizontal layout, early forms of Roman capital script, the use of Roman influenced names and relatively lengthy texts of similar but unique compositions. They are also overtly Christian and detail lines of descent. These stones seem to be a sub-group of the wider collection of fifth to seventh century stones and appear to all have had a more secular, proprietorial function. Analogies from further south seem to indicate that this earliest group marked special graves at or near secular power centres. The ‘extended Latinate’ inscriptions from elsewhere in Britain frequently show strong Roman connections and often stand at important points on the Roman road systems as well as on or near later medieval parish boundaries. It is increasingly clear that medieval parish boundaries date back to earlier secular administration units. This can be arguably said of the Latinus stone and especially of the Brigomaglos and Catstane stones. The stones also express the lineage and kin associations of those named.

As well as the Catstane and Latinus Stone, there are a number of other Latin inscribed stones dated to the sixth century. This includes the Yarrow Stone and Coninie/Manor Water Stone in the Scottish Borders, and a stone from Brox in Liddesdale. These stones are not so overtly Christian; the assertion of faith as seen on the Latinus Stone is not a primary motivation, indicating a society where Christianity was more widespread. There is still emphasis on the lineage of the named individuals and the settings of the stones that can be reconstructed to show they were located at important points in the secular landscape and used to mark special or family graves. The monuments seem less like individual commemorations and more like communal monuments, expressions of control in the landscape.

The 6th century stone from Liddesdale could help us understand the early medieval political landscape and the use of literacy in the articulation of power. The Brox Stone commemorates one Carantius son of Cupitanus. The stone is located near Brox in the valley of the Liddel, running south-west from the hills above Upper Tweeddale to join the Esk near Carlisle. It is clear that Carantius belonged to a local Christian elite. The family was powerful and wealthy enough to commission the stone and place it in a prominent location in the landscape. The inscription was meant to be seen and read and its meaning understood on all levels: “Carantius is buried here. His father was Cupitanus. This is the land of their kin. You are crossing into their land. They are rich and powerful enough to erect this monument for all time. They are Britons. They are Christians. They have been here for years. They will continue to rule here…” Those who commemorated Carantius son of Cupitanus on this stone, and others such as those who memorialised Vetta son/daughter of Victricius on the Catstane, wanted people to know these people were honoured and not forgotten. The stones were also statements of social class and power. The local elite were displaying their status by erecting monuments partly inspired by ‘Roman’ models and carved in the style and language of the imperial past, that known and adopted by Britons south of the wall, and espousing the religion of the emperors and their fellows Britons to the south.

The sixth century Brox Stone from Liddesdale must have be erected by an elite family. From the medieval Welsh Annals and Literature we know of a king who probably ruled a large part of Eskdale and Liddesdale from a core territory which included the medieval parish of Arthuret and Carwinley in the second half of the 6th century. This was Gwenddoleu, who gave his name to Carwinley from the older Brittonic Caer Gwenddoleu “fort of Gwenddoleu”.   The Welsh Annals recorded a battle here in 573: “the battle of Arthuret between the sons of Eliffer and Gwenddoleu the son of Ceidio in which battle Gwenddoleu was slain. Merlin became mad.” In later Welsh literature and history of the ninth century the battle was remembered as one of the most infamous battles of the Old North. The main motivation behind this battle was most likely to have been plunder, conquest and enhancement of personal reputation. In this period, success in war enhanced status and reputations and provider plunder to distribute to followers, so they kept following you! A man’s status would be much enhanced by taking on a famous and mighty warlord, such as Gwenddoleu seems to have been.

Gwenndoleu’s core territory may have corresponded in some way to the later English barony of Liddel, an administrative unit established by the Normans after conquest of Cumberland in 1090s. In many areas it has been shown that Anglo-Saxon estates, later Norman baronies and medieval parishes were created out of pre-existing administrative and territorial divisions, consisting of agricultural estates and power centres. Among these units were divisions of great antiquity which can be traced back into the post-Roman and early medieval period; for this region from before the Anglian takeover in seventh century. It could be that the Barony of Liddel was part of one such unit.  The focus of power in the eleventh century was definitely at the junction of two the important rivers, the Esk and the Liddel, and perhaps overlay an earlier stronghold near a Roman fort. The later Scottish barony of Liddesdale eventually mirrored this unit across the Anglo-Scottish border.

In the sixth century, before the modern border, perhaps the area of the two later baronies formed the core unit of Gwenddoleu’s kingdom. From what can be reconstructed, he ruled from somewhere near Carwinley and the confluence of the Rivers Esk and Liddel. The valleys of Eskdale and Liddesdale most likely lay under his control as he controlled their confluence. Likely he was a well-known and renowned warrior king; his patronage and protection was probably sought by other lords. If Liddesdale was part of Gwenddoleu and his family’s kingdom or perhaps a sub-kingdom or a greater network, then it is likely that those who set up the Brox Stone were part of the ruling elite of this region.

These Britons of Liddesdale chose to articulate their power, control of land, religion, and difference from other groups by erecting funerary monuments inscribed in Latin. They used literacy as a useful skill to record and commemorate and as an expression of Christian devotion. But it also seems power was articulated in this northern British zone through the medium literacy and the use of funerary epigraphy. The emergence of inscribed monuments in the fifth century was part of a wider trend occurring on both sides of the former Roman frontier, making dynamic use of existing prehistoric monumental practices and the new technology of literacy. We should think of this literate monumental tradition as a technology of differentiation, which developed and changed over time. The native peoples manipulated the available material culture with strong links to both the indigenous and Roman/Christian/Latinate past in order to create new identities in the early medieval period and to articulate their power. The inscribed stone monuments were all about kin group and control of land. The stones were not only erected to commemorate the dead but were also expressions of how powerful those named and their families were. They were used to mark boundaries and land units, indicating the importance of literacy and its use in the expression of power and control of land.

These groups of early Christian stones provide tantalising hints that although literacy was linked with Christianity and the church, in the centuries immediately following the removal of the Legions, literacy and the prestige and associations which accompanied it were utilised by the emerging military elites to forge new landowning aristocratic identities.  Latinus Stone and Catstane reflect emerging elites in the post-Roman period forming new landed aristocratic identities that drew their prestige from lingering ideas of Romanitas. They expressed this by a fondness for Latin names and continued adherence to or adoption of the imperial religion of Christianity. The elites seem to have been drawing prestige from association with the old imperial religion and its tradition of literate commemoration. This has important implications for the status of literacy amongst the elite and the possible continuance of schools catering to the education of aristocrats. These stones are evidence for a vibrant literate Latinate culture still existing between the Antonine Wall and Hadrian’s Wall in the fifth to seventh centuries, with influences tracing back into the late Roman period.

It seems power was articulated in this northern British zone through the medium of funerary epigraphy. The inscribed stone monuments are all about kin group and control of land. The stones were not only erected to commemorate the dead but were also expressions of how powerful those named and their families were. Latinus Stone and Catstane reflect emerging elites in the post-Roman period forming new landed aristocratic identities that drew their prestige from lingering ideas of Romanitas. They expressed this by a fondness for Latin names and continued adherence to or adoption of the imperial religion of Christianity. There were Christians in the south of what is now Scotland and across Hadrian’s Wall into northern England from the fourth and fifth centuries. Indeed, these stones are evidence for a vibrant Latinate culture still existing between the Antonine Wall and Hadrian’s Wall in the fifth to seventh centuries, with influences tracing back into the late Roman period. The emergence of inscribed monuments in the fifth century was part of a wider trend occurring on both sides of the former Roman frontier, making dynamic use of existing prehistoric monumental practices. The distribution of a new monumental tradition across such a wide area precludes an ethnic or religious affiliation. The native peoples manipulated the available material culture with strong links to both the indigenous and Roman/Christian/Latinate past in order to create new identities in the early medieval period. We should think of the monumental tradition as a technology of differentiation, which developed and changed over time. 

(This paper was first presented at the History of Christianity post-graduate conference at the University of Edinburgh on 1st May 2012.)