CELTIC ILLUMINATION
Early liturgical books reflect the ecclesiastical art of their
time--This feature a continuous characteristic of illumination down to
the latest times--Elements of Celtic ornament--Gospels of St.
Chad--Durham Gospels--Contrast of Celtic and Byzantine--St.
Columba--Book of Kells--Details of its decoration.
In the earlier centuries of Christianity, when liturgical books were the
chief occupation of the illuminator, it will need little pointing out to
demonstrate that the page of the illuminated manuscript, where it
contained more than the mere ornamental initial, was simply a mirror of
the architectural decoration of the church in which it was intended to
be used. Where the church enrichments consist, as on the Byzantine
basilicas, of panellings, arcades, and tympana of gilded sculpture in
wood or stone, with figures of saints, the pages of the Gospel-book bear
similar designs. Where, as in the Romanesque, they are rich in mosaics,
and fretted arcades interlacing each other, so are the illuminated Lives
of the Saints, the Menologia, Psalters, and Gospel-books. Where, as in
the Gothic cathedrals of the West--of France, Germany, or Italy--the
stained glass is the striking feature of the interior, so it is with the
illumination; it is a "vitrail"--a glass-painting on vellum. On this
latter point we shall have more to say when we reach the period of
Gothic illumination.
Incidentally, also, the book reflects the minor arts in vogue at the
period of its execution. Often in the illumination we may detect these
popular local industries. We see mosaic enamelling, wood-and
stone-carving, and lacquer-work, and as we approach the Renaissance,
even gem-cutting and the delicate craft of the medallist. In Venice and
the Netherlands we have the local taste for flower-culture; in Germany
we find sculpture in wood and stone; in France the productions of the
enameller and the goldsmith; until at length, in the full blaze of the
Renaissance itself, we have in almost every land the same varieties of
enrichment practised according to its own special style of work.
It has been said that the oldest Celtic illuminated MSS. show no signs
of classic, or even Byzantine, influence, yet the plan or framework of
the designs makes use both of the cross and the arch, as used in the
earliest Byzantine examples. The details, indeed, are quite different,
and manifestly derived from indigenous sources. It may be, therefore,
that the framework is merely a geometrical coincidence which could not
well be avoided. The fact that the basis of pure Irish ornament _is_
geometrical, and developed out of the prehistoric and barbarous art of
the savages who preceded the Celts in Ireland; such art as is used on
the carved shafts of spears, and oars, and staves of honour, and
afterwards on stone crosses and metal-work, may account for the
similarity of ideas in ornament developed by old Roman decorators in
their mosaic pavements, and may reconcile, in some measure, the varied
opinions of different writers who have approached the subject from
different points of view. Westwood adhered to the theory of its being
purely indigenous. Fleury, on the other hand, in his Catalogue of the
MSS. in the Library at Laon, asserts that we owe the knots and
interlacements to the influence of the painters, sculptors, and
mosaicists of Rome. "These interlacings, cables, etc., there is no
Gallo-Roman monument which does not exhibit them, and, only to cite
local instances, the cord of four or five strands is seen in the
beautiful mosaics discovered in profusion within the last five years
(1857-62) at Blanzy, at Bazoches, at Vailly, and at Reims. It was from
them that the Franks borrowed their knots and twists and ribbons for
their belts and buckles, their rings and bracelets" (pt. i., p. 8).
The elements, therefore, of book ornament, as used by the Celtic penmen,
are such as were employed by the prehistoric and sporadic nations in the
textile art in plaiting and handweaving, and afterwards transferred to
that of metal-work. Terminals of animal, bird, or serpent form
afterwards combine with the linear designs. The dog and dragon are
common, as may be seen in the archaic vases produced by the Greeks
before they came under the influence of ideas from Western Asia.
Among Celtic artists, as among those of later times, the practice of
working in various materials was common to the same individual, and
Dagæus (d. 586) may compare with Dunstan, Eloy, Tuotilo, and others.
To apply these observations to the style of illumination which now comes
under our notice it may be said that if we allow the cross and arch to
be copied from the Byzantine MSS. introduced from abroad, the details
are undoubtedly supplied by the wickerwork and textile netting familiar
to the everyday life of the artist. Assisted by the fertile imagination
of bardic lore in snakes, dragons, and other mythic monsters of heroic
verse, the illuminator produces a pencilled tapestry of textile fabric
or flexile metal-work as marvellous as it is unique. No amount of
description can give a true idea of what Celtic work is like; it must be
seen to be comprehended. One glance at a facsimile of such a MS. as the
Book of Kells or the Lindisfarne Gospels, or those of St. Chad at
Lichfield, or wherever, as at St. Gall, such work is to be met with,
will supersede the most laboured attempt at description. We must
therefore at once refer the reader to the facsimile. When that has been
inspected, we may proceed. In the first place it may be noted that with
these Occidental MSS. begins the importance and development of the
initial, which, indeed, as regards the illumination of Western Europe,
is the very root of the matter. It is the development of the initial
letter first into the bracket, then into the border, which forms the
great distinction of the "Art of Paris," as Dante calls it, from that of
Byzantium. The latter is almost always of a squared or tabular design,
traced and painted on a ground of burnished gold. The former exhausts
itself first in fantastic lacertine forms, twisted into the shapes of
the commencing letters or words of the writing, to which the suggestion
of some Byzantine MS, perhaps occasionally adds a frame. Next come
birds, dogs, dragons, vine-stems, and spirals embedded in couches of
colour; but, whatever its character, always it is the letter that
governs and originates the ornament. Only at the very end of its life,
when the border has completely eclipsed the initial, is the idea of
origin forgotten. Then, indeed, we find the border treillages of
flower-stem or leaf-work starting from meaningless points of the design,
or scattered shapelessly at random.
When we meet with work of this sort, we need no further proof that the
real art is dead. We have before us in such a performance--a trade
production--a mere object of commerce, valuable so far as it is the
result of labour, but not as a work of art.
According to the Abbé Geoghegan,[11] Christianity was known to the people
of Ireland in the fourth century. The Greek Menology asserts that it was
carried thither by Simon Zelotes, but this is contradicted by the Roman
Breviary and the Martyrologists. Simeon Metaphrastes attributes it to
St. Peter, Vincent of Beauvais to St. James. Unreliable as these
traditions may be taken singly, they nevertheless agree in placing the
conversion of Ireland at a very early date, probably, as Geoghegan says,
in the fourth century. It is certain that about the middle of the sixth
century an Irish prince of distinguished ancestry, and himself a saint,
led a band of missionaries from Donegal to Iona. It is curious to
observe that the event is almost contemporary with the renovations of
Justinian at Byzantium, and only a short time before the founding of the
famous Abbey of Monte Cassino by St. Benedict. Before the existence of
the Benedictine Order there was a monastery at Durrow, in Ireland, and
in this monastery the aforesaid prince was educated. His name was
Columba. At least, so he is called, but whether it be merely in allusion
to his mission--"the Dove"--or really a patronymic, it is hard to say.
He was the messenger of peace to the natives of Iona, and even the name
of the island seems to suggest an allusion to the Old Testament
missionary to the Ninevites, Jonah. The Irish missionaries called the
spot to which they went _I. columcille_, "the cell of the Dove's isle,"
or Columba's cell. It is usually spoken of as the Monastery of Iona.
Columba went on many other missions, but ultimately returned to his
beloved Iona, where he died in 597, the year after the arrival of
Augustine at Canterbury.
[11] _Hist. de l'Irlande._
His companions busied themselves with the transcription of the Gospels
for the use of new converts, after the model of those they had seen and
used at Durrow. It is even traditionally asserted that Columba himself
took part in the work, and transcribed both a Psalter and a Gospel-book,
moreover, that one of the Iona Gospel-books written by him is still in
existence. This MS., whether the work of St. Columba or not, and
probably it is not, is the earliest known monument of Irish calligraphic
art. It is known as the Book of Kells, and there is no doubt that it is
the most amazing specimen of penmanship ever seen. It is at once the
most ancient, the most perfect, and the most precious example of Celtic
art in existence. It exhibits the striking peculiarities and features of
the style--the band work knots and interlacings, such as may be seen on
the stone crosses which mark the burial-places of British and Irish
chieftains. Witness, for instance, the Carew, or the Nevern Cross,
described in the _Journal of the Archoelogical Institute_, iii. 71, which
might be taken to represent an initial "I" wrought in stone. There is no
foliage, no plant form at all. It is not, therefore, derivable from
Romanesque, Byzantine, or Oriental ornament. It is indigenous, if not to
Ireland, at least to those prehistoric Aryan tribes of which the Irish
were a branch. Its basis is the art of weaving, and in some respects
resembles the matting of Polynesia much more closely that the vine-stems
of Sicily or the arabesques of Byzantium. Spirals occur that bewilder
the eye, yet are so faultlessly perfect that only the magnifying-glass
brings out the incredible accuracy of the drawing. Among them are
mythological and allegorical beasts, snakes, and lizards--thought to
represent demons, like the gargoyles of Gothic architecture--in every
conceivable attitude of contortion and agony. There are also doves and
fishes, but the latter, being sacred emblems together with the lamb, are
seldom made grotesque. It was a monkish legend that the devil could take
the shape of any bird or beast, except those of the dove and the lamb.