The archæology and prehistoric annals of Scotland

by Sir Daniel Wilson

Stone coffins are no less abundant, but also rarely marked by any peculiar features; the later Scottish sepulchral rites being no doubt for the most part such as were common to medieval Europe. One of the most interesting discoveries of this class was made during recent repairs of the nave of Dunfermline Abbey. In the centre of the nave, towards its east end, a stone coffin of the form and dimensions of those of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries was found under the paving. On removing the lid it disclosed a singular leathern shroud, which remained in good preservation, although the body it was intended to protect had long mouldered into dust. The prepared leathern skin is double, and has been wrapped entirely round the body, like the bandages of a mummy; it is laced across the breast, and stitched with a strong leathern thong entirely up the back from the neck to the heels, and along the soles of the feet. It has been removed to the Dunfermline Museum, where it is preserved suspended in a glass case—in some respects a more eloquent memento mori than the Egyptian's "imperishable type of evanescence:" a shroud which has escaped the mortality of the corpse within its folds. The coffin has been assigned by local antiquaries as that of Edward, the eldest son of Malcolm Canmore; but there is no evidence to justify multiplies the evil tenfold, the Rev. J. S. Howson, on comparing it with the numerous sculptured crosses of the district, so faithfully described by him in the Cambridge Camden Society's Transactions, and finding that "the scroll-work on the bell-case, and the figure of our Saviour, are closely similar to the corresponding representations on the Argyleshire crosses," jumps to the conclusion that they also must needs be Scandinavian.[668] The very opposite conclusion would seem unavoidable, were it not that this idea of the supremacy of Scandinavian art in Scotland has superseded reasoning, and maintains its ground in defiance of evidence. History leaves no room to doubt that the Scandinavian invaders devastated and destroyed many native works, and greatly retarded the full development of the arts of civilisation of the Scottish Christian era. Scottish antiquaries certainly display a truly forgiving spirit in crediting them with the invention of what little escaped their sacrilegious ravages. I cannot avoid characterizing the supplementary observations on the Kilmichael-Glassrie bell-shrine in the Archæologia Scotica, which have furnished the basis of the later conclusions, as extremely foolish. A woodcut, copied from an edition of King Olave Tryggiason's Saga, printed in 1665, and with a scutcheon of the debased form only introduced in the seventeenth century, is gravely produced as an ancient representation of the Norwegian king, in order that by comparing his crown with that worn by the crucified Saviour on the bell-case, its decided Scandinavian character may be seen. The crown is neither more nor less than the common one, surmounted by three fleurs-de-lis, which, had a native origin been sought for it, might have been seen along with the Maltese or Greek cross patée, referred to in the same article, on almost any Scottish silver coin from Malcolm Canmore to James IV., when it is for the first time superseded on our native currency by a close crown. It is no less common on contemporary English, and indeed European coins; and as an argument, one way or other in the present question, is utterly valueless. On equally inconclusive grounds the Greek cross patée is pronounced to be Scandinavian. In proof of the thorough consistency of its form with the usages of the early British Church centuries before the first Scandinavian convert had abandoned the Pagan creed of his fathers, it may suffice to observe that it closely corresponds to the beautiful gold cross found in a grave in the Cathedral of Durham, on the breast of an ecclesiastic, believed, at the time of its discovery, to be that of St. Cuthbert, which would assign it to the seventh century. It is sufficient for our purpose, however, that both its style and the circumstances under which it was discovered equally prove its great antiquity and its native workmanship, points perhaps hardly requiring to be discussed.[669] The "well-known Runic knots" are next quoted, these being what we are familiar with on decorative borders of Irish MSS., some of which date two centuries prior to the first known descents of Scandinavian Vikings on our shores, and which are no less common on Anglo-Saxon MSS. and relics, on Anglo-Norman and Scottish Romanesque architecture, and indeed predominated in the prevailing style of ornament for a time throughout Europe. Lastly, we have a figure copied from an ancient "Runic monument," representing a person ringing a large suspended belfry-bell, measuring—if any proportion is preserved—about three feet in height.[670] This, therefore, can manifestly have no possible bearing on the history of the little Scottish hand-bell, or rather bell-case, which measures somewhat less than six inches high.

Bell of St. Columba.

It is not difficult to shew that bells were in use in Scotland upwards of four centuries before the conversion of St. Olaf and his Norwegian Jarls. They were indeed introduced by the first Christian missionaries, and summoned the brethren of Iona to prayer, while yet the gloriosum cœnobium of the sacred isle was only a few wattled huts. The reference which Adomnan makes to St. Columba's bell, when he had notice that King Aidan was going forth to battle, sufficiently indicates the use of it for that purpose:—"Sanctus subito ad suum dicit ministratorem cloccam pulsa. Cujus sonitu fratres incitati ad ecclesiam ocius currunt."[671] We have as little reason for supposing that the frail currach of St. Columba was freighted with a ponderous church bell, as that the first monastery of Iona was distinguished by a lofty belfry tower. But the little hand-bell of the primitive bishop would abundantly suffice to summon together the band of pioneers in the wilderness of Iona. If the annexed engraving does not represent the identical bell of the Scottish Apostle, it is one consecrated to him, and sufficiently primitive in its character to have called together the family of Iona to their orisons, beneath the osier groins of the first cathedral of the isles. It is the bell of St. Columbkill, now in the collection of John Bell, Esq. of Dungannon. The original, which measures nearly seven inches in height, was preserved for many generations in the family of the M'Gurks, from whose ancestors the parish of Termon-Maguirk, in the county of Tyrone, takes its name.[672] This bell was held by the native Irish even of the present generation in peculiar veneration, and though usually called by them the Clog na Choluimchille, or bell of St. Columbkill, it also bore the name of Ꝺɩɑ ꝺɩoᵹ̇ɑɭꞇuꞅ, or God's Vengeance, alluding to the curse implicitly believed to fall on any who perjure themselves by swearing falsely on it. This bell was used until very lately, throughout the county of Tyrone, in cases of solemn asseveration; but much of its essential virtue must have exhaled on its transference to the repositories of the antiquary. The Kilmichael-Glassrie bell, now in the Museum of the Scottish Antiquaries, appears to have closely corresponded to the simple iron clag figured above. Within the beautiful brass shrine figured on Plate VI. is a rude iron bell, so greatly corroded that its original form can only be imperfectly traced; yet this, and not the shrine, was obviously the chief object of veneration, and may indeed be assumed with much probability to be some centuries older than the ornamental case in which it is preserved. The name of Dia Dioghaltus, or God's Vengeance, specially appropriated to the bell of St. Columba, is applicable to all the relics of this class, which we shall find were among the most venerated objects of the primitive Celtic church.

It remains to be seen if any such ecclesiastical implements or symbols of office ever pertained to the Scandinavian Church, though it is not improbable that they may have been in general use throughout the earlier Christian countries of Europe some centuries before Scandinavia abandoned the creed of Odin. In Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, at any rate, we have abundant evidence of their ancient prevalence, and of the great sanctity universally attached to them; and, indeed, in Ireland, from whence the bell of St. Columba, as well as so much else that pertains to the early Christianity of Scotland, appear to have been derived, the small consecrated bell is still comparatively common. In the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy there are eighteen different examples, including several of an exceedingly primitive character. One of the most remarkable, though not the earliest, of these is the inscribed Cɭoᵹ ḃeɑnuɩᵹhꞇ̇e, or Blessed Bell, called by Dr. Petrie the Bell of Armagh, which may serve as an example of this singular class of ecclesiastical Celtic relics. Giraldus Cambrensis, in his Welsh Itinerary, refers to the universal veneration with which these portable bells were regarded in Scotland and Ireland, as well as in Wales, remarking that men were more afraid of swearing falsely by them than by the Gospels, because of some hidden and miraculous power with which they were gifted, as well as for fear of the saint to whom they pertained. The following account of this unique relic furnished to me by Mr. Bell of Dungannon affords a singularly lively illustration of the superstitions with which such relics have been regarded even in our own day:—

"The bell of Ballynaback, better known as the Clog beanuighte, was preserved in a family named Henning, whose residence is on the low road between Lurgan and Portadown, in the county of Armagh. Unlike other ancient Irish quadrilateral bells it bears on one of its sides an incised inscription, which renders it interesting, since the Church of Rome permitted only a cross or the image of the patron saint to be engraved on such ecclesiastical bells. It would be idle to attempt recounting the miraculous judgments visited on such as profaned or violated the oaths taken on the bell, or the wide-spread desolation which befell such as were anathematized by it; for, early in the twelfth century, as we are told by Meredith Hanmer, William of Winchester, by the authority of Celestine II., in a council held at London, brought in the use of cursing with bell, book, and candle, 'which liked the Irish priests well, to terrifie the laytie for their tithes.'

"Paul Henning was the last keeper of the Clog beanuighte; and when any of his connexions died it was rung by him in front of the namna gul, the old women who, according to the Irish fashion, caoine and bewail the dead. It was an ancient custom to place the bell near any of the Hennings when dangerously ill. I visited Mrs. Henning, the widow of Paul Henning, on her deathbed. She lay in a large badly lighted apartment crowded with people. The bell, which had remained several days near her head, seemed to be regarded by those who were present with much interest. The vapour of the heated chamber was so condensed on the cold metal of the bell, that occasionally small streams trickled down its sides. This 'heavy sweating' of the bell, as it was termed, was regarded by every one with peculiar horror, and deemed a certain prognostication of the death of the sick woman, who departed this life a few hours after I left the room. The agonized bell, I was told, had on many previous occasions given similar tokens as proofs of its sympathy on the approaching demise of its guardians."

The object of such profound veneration is now safely deposited in the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy at Dublin. The inscription upon it—✠ Oꞃoɩꞇ ɑꞃ Chú mɑ Scɑ ch ṁ ɑɩɭeuo—has been thus read: Oroil ar chum ma scahan chun ecumn aileou,—A prayer for him who shaped my frame to sound Allelujah. Both the rounded form and the inscription on the Clog beanuighte, are evidence of its being of a later date than the simpler quadrangular form; and it is unhesitatingly assigned by Dr. Petrie as a work executed towards the close of the ninth century.[673] The same quadrangular form of hand-bell is represented on some of the Irish stone crosses of the ninth and tenth centuries, and is also introduced in a curious group sculptured on the pediment of a remarkable little oratory called the Priest's Church, at Glendalough, which Dr. Petrie ascribes to the middle of the eighth century.[674] The following notice in the Annotations of Tirechan, in the Book of Armagh, is extremely interesting, as shewing the bell among the ecclesiastical gifts bestowed on Fiac, Bishop of Sletty, when St. Patrick conferred on him the episcopal dignity, and may therefore suffice to account for its possession by St. Columba as one of the most essential insignia of the pastoral office:—"Patrick conferred the degree of bishop upon him, so that he was the first bishop that was ordained among the Lagenians; and Patrick gave a box to Fiacc, containing a bell, and a menstir, and a crozier, and a poolire; and he left seven of his people with him."[675]

With such indubitable evidence of the use of the consecrated bell as one of the most essential ecclesiastical implements of the first missionary bishops, we can be at no loss to account for the origin of the beautiful relic found on the farm of Torrebhlaurn, in the parish of Kilmichael-Glassrie, Argyleshire. The accompanying accurate engraving (Plate VI.) renders any minute description unnecessary. It is an ornamental square case or shrine, attached to the bottom of which is a thin plate of brass pierced with a circular hole in the centre. Inside this case, but entirely detached from it, is the rude and greatly corroded iron bell. When first discovered it appeared to have been carefully wrapped in a piece of woollen cloth then almost entirely decayed. The hole in the lower plate is large enough to admit of the insertion of the finger, and was perhaps designed to allow of the bell being touched as a consecrated and miraculously gifted relic, without removing it from its case. Dr. Petrie remarks on the quadrangular form of the Irish portable bells as an evidence of their great antiquity, and refers to the inscribed one in the Dublin Museum as a remarkable example of the transition to the later circular form in the ninth century.[676] A bell of the oblong rounded form rudely fashioned out of a sheet of bronze, found at Marden, in Herefordshire, is engraved in the Archæological Journal.[677] The simplicity of its form and construction abundantly justify its assignment to nearly the same early period.