But first I may be permitted to suggest a possible motive for the adoption of a material so unstable, and apparently so little fitted for the purpose.
Locherward (now Borthwick) is a considerable inland property in the east of Scotland, and for some reasons, not requisite to be inquired into here, this parish was appended to the Western Diocese of Cumbria, which comprised the valley of the Clyde and much of the west coast of Scotland during the episcopate of St. Kentigern. It is not improbable, then, that this cross-rearing Bishop would commemorate so important an event, in his accustomed manner, by sending to Locherward a cross of baskets made of the osiers and filled with the sea sand of his western diocese, which, having been sanctified by his episcopal benediction, would be appropriately set up in his new territory as a visible sign of the transfer, and a practical assertion of his accession to the property. Here again, however, I am compelled to say that I have not a shadow of proof to offer in support of my surmise. St. Kentigern may have set up the sea-sand cross by other means, and for another purpose. I have only endeavoured to suggest a reason in accordance with possibility and the customs of the times in which he lived.
Before asking you to believe that the earliest existing stone crosses were reproductions of still earlier crosses of twigs, I may well be expected to offer some evidence that any such basket-work crosses ever existed.
Of all the superstitious legends of the middle ages, none was more widely popular than that of St. Patrick’s purgatory. The little island in gloomy Lough Derg, in which it was believed that both the pains and advantages of purgatory could be anticipated, and the duration of its torments abridged, was visited by great and powerful pilgrims, who enriched its clerical guardians by their offerings. Suppressed at the Reformation, and its rude buildings more than once demolished by the orders of government, it nevertheless still retains so strong a grasp on the superstitious feelings of the poor and ignorant of the present day, that, actuated by religious enthusiasm, crowds of such pilgrims at certain seasons pour themselves upon this miserable little islet, consisting of three roods of barren surface; and so numerous are these visitors that the tenant pays the landlord a yearly rent of £300 (the greater part in sixpences), derived from a small charge imposed on them at the ferry toll.[24]
In this place, where ancient superstitious practices still linger, the remembrance of its founder and his imputed miracles would naturally be longest retained, and any relics appertaining to him preserved with pertinacious care. None such can now be found; but it is recorded that about or before the year 1630, a certain Lord Dillon visited the island, accompanied by a government surveyor, and they gave a detailed description of the place, which was published by the then Bishop of the Diocese. In their report it is stated that “at the east end of the church there is a heap of stones, on which there is a cross made of interwoven twigs; this is known by the name of St. Patrick’s Altar, on which there do lie three pieces of a bell, which they say St. Patrick used to carry in his hand,” &c.[25] This is the only record I have met with of any actual cross of twigs or basket-work. It was probably the last of innumerable crosses of the same kind, and was found in the place where, of all others, the latest example was likely to be met with. Doubtless it was a many times repeated copy of some ancient cross attributed originally to the hands of the patron saint of Ireland.[26]
The devices sculptured on a majority of the Scottish and Manx monoliths must have been executed before the artists possessed such skill or such tools as would enable them to cut the outline of the stone itself to any required form; they do not appear at that time to have set up crosses, but they engraved representations of that symbol on the surface of huge stones many of which were already fixed in an erect position and most probably had been for a long series of years employed in the services of an earlier religion. Upon such stones they imitated the ornamentation of wicker-work by innumerable reiterated blows of their small celts of flint, bronze, or iron, working out the design in low relief, and showing one half of the round, or as much only of the osier wands as could be seen when plaited together. It is only in the later examples that the outline of the stone assumes the form of the cross; and this change is accompanied by a considerable alteration in the ornamental details, the interlacings become less elegant but more complicated, and terminate in the heads, tails, and limbs of various animals, often grotesque in expression; or, the wands burst into buds and leaves, or give place entirely to sculptured representations of men and animals of the rudest execution. It is a curious proof of the earlier use of the interwoven ornamentation that it may be found in elegantly arranged and highly-finished devices on the same stones with representations of the human figure so rudely carved as to appear to be the work of mere children.
It may be objected, that the British or Saxon artisan, when working on a new material, would adopt a style of ornament appropriate to it, and discard the totally irrelevant system of decoration which had been used by his ancestors; but it must be remembered that he had many inducements to adhere to the ancient patterns. The force of custom and education would be a powerful motive, and no other style of ornament was then known to the people, who were accustomed to and well understood these endless intricacies which appear to us a mass of confusion; probably, however, the best reason was an earnest desire to perpetuate in durable material those crosses of perishable basket-work, before which he and his ancestors had bowed themselves in worship in the depths of their primæval forests,—crosses, which had been sanctified by the holy men who at first erected them, and to many of which miraculous powers were undoubtedly attributed.
A majority of the Irish examples differ from those of Scotland and the Isle of Man, in being elaborately carved in their outline to the form of richly ornamented crosses. This argues either an earlier developement of art in Ireland, or a later execution of the work; but the plaited ornaments are found to prevail in each locality, though they probably gave place to sculptured representations of men and animals somewhat earlier in Ireland than elsewhere. The usual form of these crosses is fairly expressed by the example engraved[27] representing the interesting Irish cross at Kilklespeen.
It may at first sight be supposed that crosses of timber would precede those of stone, the material being abundant and the workmanship apparently more easy; but a little consideration will show that timber required tools of a higher order than stone; the blunt celt would be far from efficient as an instrument to carve wood, and sharp-edged tools were not then attainable. Irrespective of this, the superior durability of stone would of itself induce the choice of that material.
There is a common arrangement in most of the Scottish and Irish crosses to which I desire to call attention; whether sculptured into true crosses, or merely engraved on the surface of the stone, they are divided into irregular compartments, each for the most part ornamented with a different device of interlaced work, or, in late examples, subjects in sculpture. These compartments are usually broad at the base and gradually decrease in size towards the apex of the cross, as would be the case with a series of baskets piled upon each other, and then firmly bound together by continuous bands of twisted withes. A wheel or ring, connecting the horizontal with the perpendicular limbs almost invariably accompanies the interlaced ornamentation on these early crosses. This ring I long supposed to represent a nimbus or glory, but remembering that that usual symbol of divinity is of Eastern origin, and that it is commonly met with on crosses where there is no representation of the figure of our Lord, I was induced to seek for some other meaning, and have now no hesitation in saying that its original purpose was not symbolical, or even merely ornamental, but that it was a necessary appliance in the construction of the earlier wicker-work crosses, reproduced on the stone crosses for the same reasons which induced the retention of the interlaced ornaments.