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.)
