A unique medieval coin from the reign of David I of Scotland (1124-1153) has sold for £32,000 – double its pre-sale estimate.
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A unique medieval coin from the reign of David I of Scotland (1124-1153) has sold for £32,000 – double its pre-sale estimate.
St Andrews Cathedral. Scotland (by jasty78)
Historical Objects: The Canonbie Rosary Beads
These jet beads were found in a field near Canonbie, in Dumfriesshire, and probably date from the late 1200s or early 1300s AD. Thought to be one of the oldest surviving examples of paternoster beads in Britain, they are now on display at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh.
Paternoster beads were used by many Christians in the Middle Ages to count prayers, and their name comes from a particularly popular prayer, the Pater Noster (i.e. the “Our Father” or the Lord’s Prayer). In the Later Middle Ages, the use of such prayer beads would eventually develop into what we now know as the Rosary. Items for helping people count their prayers have existed since the earliest days of Christianity, and prayer beads can also be found in other religions. However the western rosary as we know it today is believed to have developed in the twelfth century, when the practise of praying 150 Hail Marys, split into groups of ten, became common. Guilds of beadmakers were also established by the thirteenth century, although a Catholic tradition dating back to the fifteenth century states conversely that the first appearance of the Rosary occurred c.1214, when St Dominic was given one in a vision by the Virgin Mary.
Over time a structured framework evolved for praying the rosary, but in the High Middle Ages prayer beads could also be used more generally to keep count of the main prayers such as the Pater Noster and Ave Maria. Rosaries could also be quite valuable items, worn as status symbols as well as devotional aids. Many written references to expensive rosaries owned by the wealthy elites of Late Mediaeval Scotland have survived, such as the “grete bedis of gold contenand sex score twa bedis and a knop” discovered in one of the treasure chests of the late King James III in 1488, or the gold beads and cross which were given as a New Year’s gift to Elizabeth Barlow, a lady-in-waiting to Margaret Tudor, in 1507 and which were worth over £62*. But whether they were fashioned from simple wood or the most precious metals and jewels, rosaries never lost their spiritual importance and they remain an important devotional aid for many Catholics today.
These particular beads are made of jet and were discovered in 1863, as part of a hoard turned up by the plough on the farm of Woodhead near Canonbie, a few miles from the Anglo-Scottish border. During the initial examination of the trove, it was suggested that the beads might have formed part of a necklace. However the shape of the beads makes it more likely that they were used for counting prayers: 13 oval beads survive along with two larger faceted beads, which might have been used to mark the completion of each “decade” (set of ten prayers).
Although these beads are not quite so showy as some of the gold examples mentioned above, jet was still a costly material in the Middle Ages. Certainly the owner of these beads thought they were precious enough to hide with the rest of their valuable goods. The hoard also included 76 silver coins (from Scotland and England), several gold rings, and silver brooches, some of which can be seen elsewhere in the National Museum of Scotland. The coins might provide a clue as to when the hoard was buried. Most of them date from the reigns of Kings Alexander III (reigned 1249 to 1286) and John (r. 1292-1296) of Scotland, and King Edward I of England (r.1272-1307). This suggests that the hoard, including these jet beads, was buried at the very end of the thirteenth century or in the first years of the fourteenth.
The border between Scotland and England had long been an area of cultural exchange and in the thirteenth century it included some of the best farmland in the kingdom, as well as some of Scotland’s richest towns. In the 1290s, however, war broke out between the two countries and this conflict would last for several decades, forever altering the relationship between the two neighbouring kingdoms and the character of the counties along the Anglo-Scottish border, Dumfriesshire included. These were dangerous and uncertain times, and whoever buried the Canonbie hoard may have squirrelled away their valuables to protect them from marauders or as an emergency source of wealth to be used in a crisis.
Whatever the context, the original owner never returned to recover much of this hoard, and so their jet prayer beads remained hidden underground for centuries. But their treasure trove at least benefited future generations as we can use their long-forgotten possessions to gain an insight into cultural and social conditions in the south of Scotland during the High Middle Ages. There is an added bonus- if the beads do predate the year 1300, they may be one of the oldest surviving examples of prayer beads in Britain. The Canonbie rosary beads thus serve as an important reminder of thirteenth century Scotland’s full participation in the wider trends of mediaeval Christendom, and might provide a glimpse into the cultural world inhabited by an anonymous Borderer on the eve of the Wars of Independence.
Notes and Sources can be found below the ‘Read More’ cut.
Hermitage Castle, Newcastleton, Scottish Borders.
by Phil Wilkinson
Historical Objects: Portraits of a man and woman c.1551.
The sitters in this pair of portraits have traditionally been identified as Mark Kerr, Commendator of Newbattle (born before 1526 and died c.1584), and his wife Helen Leslie (c.1520-1594). The portraits were in the possession of their descendants the Marquesses of Lothian until 1941; they are now held by the National Galleries of Scotland.
The man on the right is dressed entirely in black, with the exception of the sleeves and collar of his sark that show white underneath the outer garment. His clothes and those of the lady are appropriate for the mid-sixteenth century. The man has reddish-brown hair and forked beard. The lady on the right wears a black gown with red/pink sleeves and a white hood, under which her red hair can be seen. She is pointing to a tablet bearing musical notation. Interestingly, if these portraits are a pair, the lady is portrayed on the viewer’s left and facing the man’s right hand side. This can be found in some other portraits of married couples but more commonly the wife is portrayed on the husband’s left hand side, the viewer’s right.
The artist has variously been identified as Antonis Mor or Willem Key. Neither man is known to have visited Scotland but other Scottish nobles of the period commissioned portraits, books, and other high quality goods from Netherlandish painters, working both on the continent and in England. Many sixteenth century Scots also travelled back and forth to the Low Countries on business and in diplomatic service.
Unfortunately I couldn’t find any sources that analysed the traditional attribution of the paintings in depth. Therefore I’m reluctant to accept the claim that the sitters are Mark Kerr and Helen Leslie without question, even though it’s entirely plausible (and many more famous portraits have been associated with historical figures on far less evidence). Nonetheless I thought the paintings were still lovely pieces that deserved some attention, even if the details are (understandably) hard to verify.
Reproduced by the permission of the National Galleries of Scotland under the creative commons license.
I find it hard to think of a more perfect castle than Tioram. On a tidal island, surrounded by sea, beaches, mountains and distant isles, loaded with clan history and set in moody silence….what more can you ask for?
3rd May 1128: Kelso Abbey Consecrated
Although King David I was perhaps not as saintly as contemporary chroniclers would have us believe, he certainly founded a lot of monasteries. Setting aside his rather subjective view of what constituted barbarity, John of Hexham’s description of the king’s outward piety is quite revealing:
“There has been none like unto that prince in our days: devoted to divine services, failing not to attend each day at the canonical hours, and also at the vigils of the dead. And in this he was to be praised that in a spirit of foresight and courage he wisely tempered the fierceness of his barbarous nation; that he was frequent in washing the feet of the poor, and compassionate in feeding and clothing them; that he built and supplied sufficiently with lands and revenues the monasteries of Kelso, Melrose, Newbattle, Holmcultram*, Jedburgh, Holyrood- these being situated to this side of the sea of Scotland**, besides those which he benefited in Scotland***, and in other places.”
This list of abbeys patronised by David in Lothian and Cumbria alone reflects the king’s particular spiritual interests. Three of these abbeys (Melrose, Newbattle, and Holmcultram) were staffed by Cistercian monks, and two (Jedburgh and Holyrood) by Augustinian canons regular. These orders were especially favoured by David, and multiple Cistercian and Augustinian houses sprang up north of the Forth as well after he succeeded to the Scottish throne in 1124. But the king also patronised a range of other religious organisations, and his royal descendants and the Scottish nobility soon followed his lead. By the end of the thirteenth century, Scotland was home to an eclectic mix of Cluniac, Tironensian, Culdee, and Valliscaulian monasteries, as well as houses belonging to Premonstratensian canons, and the Knights Templar and Hospitaller, and various Dominican, Franciscan, Carmelite, and Trinitarian friaries. David’s first known foundation reflected this wide-ranging religious interest. In 1113, he settled Tironensian monks on his lands at Selkirk, now the site of a well-known Borders town. This small beginning would have important consequences for the spread of reformed monasticism in Scotland and the overall shape of the mediaeval Scottish Church...
Loch Ness by CHRIS TAYLOR
“Daughter of the Rising Sun”: The Death of Matilda of Scotland
I am taking a bit of an English history detour this May Day folks, to talk about Matilda of Scotland, Queen of England, who died at Westminster on this day in 1118
Matilda was actually christened Edith and she was the daughter of Malcolm III of Scotland and his second wife Margaret of Wessex, better known as St Margaret of Scotland. As well as several half-brothers from her father’s first marriage to Ingibiorg Finnsdottir, she had seven full siblings- Edward, Edmund, Aethelred, Edgar, Alexander, Mary, and David. At least three (arguably four) of her brothers eventually became King of Scots, while her sister Mary married the Count of Boulogne and was mother to another Queen Matilda, the wife of Stephen, King of England.
Like some of her brothers, Edith bore an Old English name, symbolic of her mother’s status as the sister of Edgar Atheling and a representative of the old royal house of Wessex, which had ruled England before the Norman Conquest. This impressive lineage, just as much as her reputed beauty, piety, and learning, was probably a major factor in Henry I of England’s choice of Edith as his bride, despite the claim of the Anglo-Saxon chronicle that she was then, “mistress of but modest means, being then a ward without either parent”. The marriage took place in November 1100, only a few months after Henry succeeded to the English throne. It was at this point that Edith adopted the name Matilda, which might have been more palatable to the Normans.
(In this fifteenth century genealogy of James II of Scotland and his sisters, their paternal and maternal descent was traced back to St Margaret via David, King of Scots, and Matilda, Queen of England. Reproduced by permission of the British Library under a Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.) )
Matilda’s moniker ‘of Scotland’ is also a little bit misleading. Although she was almost certainly born within the bounds of her father’s kingdom, Matilda and her sister Mary were sent away at a young age and the two princesses spent their formative years in nunneries in the south of England. At Romsey Abbey, where their aunt Christina was abbess, and later at Wilton Abbey near Salisbury, the two girls received instruction in reading and writing as well as in Christian piety, and this education seems to have been largely responsible for their later reputations as cultured and devout noblewomen.
Matilda became known as a literary patron and builder, and she played a leading role in the government of England during her husband’s absences on the continent. She also had a noteworthy, if indirect, impact on the culture of her birth country when she commissioned Turgot, her mother’s former chaplain, to write a biography of the late Queen Margaret, which contributed to the growth of that queen’s “cult”. She also appears to have been an important early influence in the life of her youngest brother David, who became king of Scots a few years after her death, and whose reign would do much to shape Scotland’s development as a mediaeval kingdom.
In England Matilda presided over a cultured and cosmopolitan court, whilst simultaneously maintaining an almost saintly reputation for personal piety and chastity. Numerous contemporary writers described her in glowing terms, in excess even of the usual praise lavished on kings and queens. For William of Malmesbury, whose “Gesta Regum Anglorum” is supposed to have been written at Matilda’s request, she was:
“Singularly holy; by no means despicable in point of beauty; a rival of her mother’s piety; never committing any impropriety”
In his “Historia Anglorum”, composed after Matilda’s death, Henry of Huntingdon included a short poem on her “refinement and superiority”. Meanwhile the mid-twelfth century Cistercian writer Ailred of Rievaulx, who had served at the court of Matilda’s brother David I of Scotland commented that:
“Anyone who wants to write about her wonderful renown and her strength of mind, how assiduous and devoted she was at the divine offices and holy vigils, how humble she was, especially considering her great power, will show us another Esther in our own time.”
The twelfth-century Hyde chronicler also showered the late Queen with praise, describing her as:
“a truly incomparable woman, in whose lifetime England flourished and, at whose death, England’s flower was cut off and all its beauty was taken away by her.”
Pages could be filled with this sort of lavish eulogy, but it must be admitted that Matilda was not entirely uncontroversial. Even William of Malmesbury criticised her habit of giving too generously to strangers, to the detriment of her tenants, and he attributed this to an all too human desire for fame and praise as much as her natural charity.
Matilda’s reputation also suffered several decades after her death due to the perceived irregularity of her marriage to Henry I. Since she had spent much of her youth in nunneries, there was some doubt as to whether or not she had taken the veil, and if she had, then her marriage would have been a sinful sham, with corresponding implications for the legitimacy of her children- and therefore the English succession. This issue was debated prior to her marriage and Matilda herself testified that, although her aunt had forcibly compelled her to wear the veil, “to save my body from the raging lust of the Normans”, she had never taken vows and had angrily trampled on the veil in private. Eventually, Bishop Anselm of Canterbury declared in favour of the marriage and personally officiated at Henry and Matilda’s wedding.
Nevertheless, decades later in 1139, when Stephen of Blois was fighting Matilda of Scotland’s daughter, the “Empress” Matilda, for the English throne, a papal hearing was convened at which Stephen publicly claimed that the Empress was illegitimate and that her parents’ marriage had not been valid. In her seminal study of Matilda of Scotland’s career, Lois L. Huneycutt theorises that this posthumous assault on Matilda’s reputation may have stymied any chance that she would be canonised, as her mother later was. Nonetheless her image did survive Stephen’s reign and her virtues continued to be extolled for centuries after her death, with later chroniclers in England and Scotland alike commemorating her as “Good Queen Maud”.
(A depiction of Henry I and Matilda in an early fourteenth century genealogy of the English kings. Reproduced by permission of the British Library under a Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.)
Matilda’s contemporary popularity is particularly evident in the reported reaction to her death. On 1st May 1118, after seventeen and a half years as Queen of the English, she died in the palace of Westminster, her chief residence. She was probably only in her late thirties, but the exact cause of her death is unknown. We do know that she was widely mourned, especially by the English clergy.
Setting aside the laudatory eulogies of various twelfth century chroniclers, an account of her funeral obsequies also survives in the so-called Warenne or Hyde chronicle. This chronicle was apparently composed c.1157, but probably drew on older sources and eyewitness accounts, and its description of Matilda’s funeral demonstrates the power of the queen’s reputation. Although her husband King Henry was apparently absent in Normandy at the time of her death, the Hyde Chronicler states that her funeral was extremely well-attended:
“almost all of England’s bishops, nobility, abbots, priors, and indeed the innumerable common masses, assembled for her crowded funeral, and with many tears they attended her burial. At the urging of Roger, bishop of Salisbury, all offered for her soul with utmost devotion an infinite multitude of masses, prayers, alms, and other benefits.”
The bishop of Salisbury then handed around the metaphorical collection plate in Matilda’s memory, and the money poured in. This seems to have been a remarkable piece of fundraising- the Hyde chronicler claimed that the total value of all gifts was enough to pay for 47,000 masses, 9,000 psalters and 80 trentals, and to sustain hundreds of paupers.
Matilda was to be buried in Westminster Abbey, next to the tombs of Edward the Confessor and his wife Queen Edith, and her body was interred on the east side of the altar as the “daughter of the rising sun”.* Several clerics who had been close to the queen spent thirty days praying and standing vigil beside her grave, where her husband Henry I later established a perpetual tomb light. Matilda’s youngest brother David also provided for an annual memorial service to be held in her honour, while the clergy of Exeter cathedral seem to have sung masses to mark the anniversary of her death for a time.
Perhaps unsurprisingly given her personal sanctity, her tomb was reportedly the site of several miracles, although, unlike her mother, Matilda was never officially recognised as a saint. Her body was still a valuable relic however, and soon after her death an unseemly squabble broke out between the monks of Westminster Abbey and the priory of the Holy Trinity in Aldgate. The priory of the Holy Trinity was a house of Augustinian canons, which Matilda had founded in 1108. The canons claimed that the queen had expressed a wish to be buried there, and not in Westminster, and they accused the monks of Westminster of taking possession of her corpse without warrant, and hastily burying her in abbey before anyone could stop them. Eventually the dispute was settled by Henry I who, “when he learnt that the last wish of the queen had not been carried out, was exceedingly angry, and gave nothing to the monks who had hoped for a gift.” The English king showed favour to the canons of Aldgate by granting them a foundation charter, but Matilda’s body remained at Westminster, though unfortunately her tomb has since disappeared. The inscription on the tomb apparently changed several times over the years, but the original is supposed to have read (in translation):
“Here lies the distinguished Queen Matilda the Second,
Who surpassed both young and old in her time.
Pattern of morals and beauty of life,
She was for all.”
Matilda was survived by her two children- William Adelin (whose byname probable derived from the Old English “Aetheling” indicating his eligibility to succeed as king), and Matilda, who was first married to the Holy Roman Emperor (thereby gaining the title “Empress”, which she wore for the rest of her life) and then Geoffrey “Plantagenet”, Count of Anjou. William only outlived his mother by a couple of years, as he perished along with hundreds of others in the disastrous sinking of the White Ship near Barfleur on 25th November 1120. Although Henry I then had his leading vassals swear an oath which recognised his daughter the Empress Matilda as his heir, after his death the kingdom nonetheless descended into civil war when his nephew, Stephen of Blois, claimed the throne.**
The ensuing conflict between Stephen and Matilda, now known as “the Anarchy”, continued for nearly twenty years until the Empress Matilda’s son succeeded Stephen on the throne, becoming Henry II of England and the first monarch of the royal house later called the Plantagenet dynasty. Thus through her grandson, Matilda of Scotland was the ancestor of every subsequent English monarch, as well as a distant ancestor of many Scottish monarchs. Although several twelfth-century chroniclers were particularly concerned with her genealogical importance, as the link between the old pre-Conquest kings of England and their Norman and Angevin successors, Matilda was also an important figure in her own right and her career stands out as a particularly successful example of mediaeval queenship.
(A very grumpy-looking Matilda, Henry I, and their two children William and Matilda as depicted in a late thirteenth century genealogical role. Reproduced by permission of the British Library under a Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.)
Extra notes and sources can be found under the cut.
Kisimul Castle, Scotland
Kisimul Castle sits on a rocky islet in the bay just off the coast of Barra in the Outer Hebrides. As it is completely surrounded by the sea, it can only be reached by boat and is all but impregnable. Kisimul has its own fresh water wells. Legend has it that this has been the stronghold of the MacNeils since the 11th century. The earliest documentary record of Kisimul Castle dates from the mid 16th century.
Kisimul was abandoned in 1838 when the island was sold, and the castle’s condition deteriorated. Some of its stone was used as ballast for fishing vessels, and some even ended up as paving in Glasgow. The remains of the castle, along with most of the island of Barra, were purchased in 1937 by Robert Lister MacNeil, the then chief of Clan MacNeil, who made efforts at restoration.
In 2001 the castle was leased by the chief of Clan MacNeil to Historic Scotland for 1000 years for the annual sum of £1 and a bottle of whisky.
Blair Atholl
Talking Together: The Earliest Record of A Scottish Parliament?
(A ninteenth century engraving of the great seal of Alexander II. Source- Wikimedia Commons)
On 8th April 1236, letters were issued on behalf of King Alexander II of Scotland, recording the settlement of a recent dispute between the Cistercian monks of Melrose and the nobleman Roger Avenel. Although at first sight this may appear unremarkable, the document which contains the Crown’s record of this settlement can be considered the earliest official evidence of a Scottish parliament.
Some time before 1236, Roger Avenel and his ancestors had granted use of some land in Eskdale (Dumfriesshire) to Melrose Abbey. The Abbey was heavily involved in wool and leather production. Access to upland grazing for the abbey’s livestock, as well as timber and arable, would have made this Eskdale land extremely valuable to the monks. Unfortunately for them, Roger Avenel also felt entitled to use the land exactly as he pleased, and had no qualms about obstructing the same monks he and his predecessors had endowed. Despite the terms of his previous charter, Roger and his men loosed their horses and other animals on the land, and destroyed the houses, ditches, and enclosures made by the Abbey. In order to settle “the controversies stirred between them on this account”, the dispute between the two parties was brought before the highest judge in the realm- King Alexander II of Scotland. Eventually, a compromise was reached, providing for the use of the land by both Melrose Abbey and Roger Avenel, albeit in different ways. The warring parties were thus reconciled, “in the presence of our barons at the colloquium at Liston”, in the year of grace 1235.
It is likely that the letters which record this settlement were made at least a couple of weeks after this assembly at Kirkliston, since they are dated 8th April “in the twenty-second year of the reign of our lord the king”- i.e. 1236.* The document itself was witnessed by Andrew, bishop of Moray; Clement, bishop of Dunblane; Walter Comyn, the earl of Menteith; Walter, the Steward of Scotland; Walter Oliphant, justiciar of Lothian; Henry Balliol; David Keith, the Marischal; and Geoffrey, the clerk of the liverance. This cannot be taken as a list of everyone who attended the ‘colloquium’ at Kirkliston, though I would argue that most of these men were probably present anyway. Nonetheless the letter is possibly the earliest surviving “official” Crown record of what we now call the Scottish parliament- though this is by no means certain since the early history of this institution is shadowy and fraught with ambiguity...
(The old kirk of Liston, presumably near to where the ‘colloquium’ of 1235 took place. The church has its roots in the Middle Ages and may have been standing at the time of the first Scottish parliament. Source is picture by Tom Sargent who has kindly made this picture available on wikimedia commons for reuse under the Creative Commons License)
Jedburgh Abbey, Scottish Borders, David Roberts
Historical Objects: Lion Roof Boss
This mediaeval roof boss, shaped like a rather downcast (or possibly just sleepy) lion, comes from Elgin Cathedral and can be dated to the fifteenth century, according to the sign on site. The boss may have served as a keystone in the a vaulted ceiling. This carved stone is just one of hundreds which have survived from Elgin’s beautiful ruined cathedral, once known as the ‘Lantern of the North’.
Heiress, patron, founder, potential bookworm. Lady Dervorgilla’s achievements as a woman in thirteenth-century Scotland and England are fascinating, and often overlooked.
Last weekend I was on the roads less travelled in the Scottish Borders. Southern Scotland is maybe the most historically rich of all Scotland’s regions and is littered with abbeys, castles, towers and museums. If you’re looking to escape the crowds in August, look no further…..