Such was the condition of art in Britain and Ireland at the time that the first Christian missionaries commenced their labours in these countries. So signal was their success that Tertullian, writing of his own time (the third century), tells us that “some countries of the Britains that proved impregnable to the Romans are yet subjected to Christ.” It was the custom of those earnest and indefatigable men (so pious in their lives that after their death they were usually honoured with the title of Saint) to place crosses in every place where they succeeded in making converts, or in which they planted a church, chapel, or monastery; and it becomes a question of some interest to ascertain the materials of these early symbols of the Christian faith, which must have been extensively spread over the land.
Clearly they were not of stone, since we know that even after the Romans left England the natives had not sufficient skill to build a wall of that material; nor have we any reason to believe that they had the ability or the tools requisite for the construction of a cross of timber, which would demand the use of cutting instruments with finer edges than those necessary for stone. Under these circumstances it is only natural that the British convert would dedicate to the glory of God the products of that talent which had acquired for him a continental celebrity. The basket-work, so prized at Rome, was the most valuable oblation that the pious ancient Briton could offer to the services of his new religion, and thus it was that the first emblems of Christianity erected in England were (almost necessarily) constructed of basket-work.
The perishable nature of the materials forbids us to expect almost any other than inferential evidence that crosses of basket-work ever existed, but happily this is not denied to us. A careful examination of the admirable engravings of the sculptured stones of Scotland, the ancient Irish crosses, and the curious monumental remains of the Isle of Man, together with many existing carved crosses in England and Wales, cannot fail to convince any unprejudiced observer that the beautiful interlaced ornamentation so lavishly employed on these sculptures derived its origin from the earlier decorations of that British basket-work which the Romans had learned to value and admire.
Before attempting to describe the method by which such crosses may be, and probably were constructed, I beg to call attention to the fact that basket-work and the earlier Pagan or Druidical religion were closely connected.
Cæsar, writing of the Druids, states that “they have images of enormous size, the limbs of which, formed of wicker-work, they fill with living men, which being set on fire, the men perish enveloped in flames[18];” and Strabo says, “having prepared a Colossus of hay and thrown wood upon it, they burn together oxen, all sorts of wild beasts, and men.[19]” It has been assumed that these wicker-work images were in the human form, but I apprehend that there is nothing in either text to warrant this conclusion. The word colossus implies a figure of large size, which may quite as probably have been that of some enormous animal.
On the Shandwick stone,[20] one of the most interesting of the Scottish series, figures of men, horses, stags, birds, and other animals are carved with much spirit, and with more than usual attention to their relative proportions. The animals are represented in life-like attitudes, as if moving about. But there is one remarkable exception,[21] a colossal four-legged creature, of a form peculiar to these Scottish stones, differs from the others as much in figure as in size. Compared with two sheep and a dog which occur on the same panel,[21] its height, if erect, would be about thirteen feet, its length about eighteen feet, while its ungainly leaning posture is singularly suggestive of its being a sculptured representation of some huge beast built up of wicker-work. Certain marks on its surface warrant this supposition, which is strengthened by the fact that other representations of a similar animal, which occur on the same series, have the most distinct indications of a basket-work origin. Well marked examples are to be found on the stones at Brodie and at Glenferness.[22] Resembling no known animal, these curious figures—which are represented above twenty times on the Scottish stones and are nowhere else to be met with—have a general likeness to each other; they are all in postures by no means indicating life or motion, and all distinguished by the striking peculiarity of having no feet; the limbs terminate in long wands rolled up after the manner of volutes, obviously suggesting the idea that if opened out they would serve, on being thrust deeply into the ground, to keep the colossus in a standing attitude. Similar volutes are represented terminating the base of the well-known cross at the gate of St. Michael’s church yard in the Isle of Man. They were probably used in the same way to fix to the ground an earlier cross of wicker-work, of which the existing monument is a copy engraved on stone.
I dare not of course take it upon me to assert that there is any positive connection between the huge animal on the Shandwick stone and the colossal images mentioned by Cæsar and Strabo, as being employed by the Druids in their human sacrifices, but the coincidence (if indeed it be not something more) is sufficiently curious and interesting to demand a passing notice. It is supposed that these and some other as yet inexplicable devices found on the same stones are symbols of a religion prior to Christianity; a circumstance by no means improbable, as it is known that convents among the Saxons and probably the Britons also, clung with much pertinacity to some of their Druidical and Pagan customs long after they had assumed the outward emblems of Christianity. This may account for the juxtaposition of the cross with devices of unknown meaning, and explain in some degree the remarkable circumstance that Pagan and Christian emblems both derive their ornamentation from the same source—basket-work.
Having shown that at the time when Christianity was introduced into Britain the native population, totally unacquainted with practical masonry, were yet expert and experienced manufacturers of highly ornamental baskets; and suggested the reasonable probability that they would employ their best talents in the service of their new religion, as they had previously devoted them to their earlier Pagan or Druidical superstitions, I proceed to offer some reasons for believing that the first crosses erected by Christian missionaries in Britain, Ireland, and the Isle of Man, were constructed of plaited osiers.
Many of the Mediæval biographers narrate with much minuteness the particulars of stone crosses set up by Christian bishops; but no such notices occur before the sixth century, and from the great importance attached to them by the monastic historians, it is evident that they were objects of extraordinary interest, and moreover, of exceptional material. Such crosses were erected by St. Columba, St. Oswald, St. Cuthbert, Bishop Ethelwold, and other holy men. Of St. Kentigern—better known in Scotland as St. Mungo—it is said that, among many crosses which he put up, one in the city of Glasgow was taken from the quarry by his orders, and, by the united efforts of many men, erected in the cemetery of the Church of the Holy Trinity, in which his episcopal throne was set up. That this particular cross was of more than usual importance may be inferred from the statement of his biographer, that it was the custom of St. Kentigern to erect a cross in any place where he had converted the people, or had for a time resided. Such crosses, therefore, must have been executed by some less laborious process than was used for the one which he erected near his cathedral about the end of the sixth century, and which is said to have still marked the spot where the original edifice stood, when the Cathedral of the West was reconstructed five hundred years afterwards.
But St. Kentigern erected one other cross, which demands the attention and consideration of archæologists. We are informed that at Locherward, a parish in Mid-Lothian now called Borthwick, he set up a cross constructed of sea sand. There is no hint of any miraculous assistance in the erection of this cross, and therefore we are constrained to look for some mechanical appliance by which sea sand could be made to cohere in the form of a cross.[23]