May 2010

Just five words cut into ancient stone – but they help pull back the veil on the final flourishes of the lost Pictish kingdom.
The inscription carefully cut in a panel on the side of the Drosten Stone features the names Drosten along with Uoret and Forcus (Fergus).
Who these people were is not entirely clear, but Drosten is a Pictish name, and he could have been a priest or a nobleman, and indeed there is a St Drosten. There is also a St Fergus.
Uoret may have been the King Uurad, son of Bargoit, who died around 842 ad. This means that this magnificent cross slab, with its remarkable carved decorations, was among the last great works of art produced by the Picts.
The following year their kingdom was united with Dál Riata under one king, leading to the birth of Scotland and the end of a distinctive Pictish cultural identity.
The quality of art, the historical timing, and the inscription combine to make the Drosten Stone one of Scotland’s great cultural treasures. It is also the case that inscriptions on Pictish stones are as rare as hens’ teeth.
The fact that it features a combination of Pictish, Gaelic and possibly Latin words underlines the dynamic nature of Pictish society culture and the cultural influences which they embraced.
The stone is now the centrepiece of Historic Scotland’s refurbished and recently reopened museum in the small Angus community of St Vigeans. Even more remarkable is that the stone, with an ornate Christian cross on one face and fabulous array of wild and mythic beasts on the other, is far from being alone. Placed all around it in the expanded, but still intimate, museum are 31 more Pictish carved stones and fragments.
The collection, which includes some carved stones from later periods, is all contained within the small cottages at numbers 3 and 4, Kirkstyle. It first came into state care in the 1960s at which point most stones were propped up for shelter in the church porch.
Fortunately for the nation’s heritage, the minister and kirk session recognised their significance and pressed for them to be given a permanent home in the neighbourhood.
The Ministry of Works agreed and they were placed together in one of the cottages, with the adjacent cottage used for storage.
While the stones were in a safer place, the museum was very much of its era, and more a place for the academic than for the typical family. It could be a challenge getting the key, and the levels of display and lighting were basic to say the least, considering the tremendous cultural significance of the collection.
All this has now changed.
The refreshed museum is not only larger and lighter, but the collection can be viewed from all angles and there is a steward to provide help and information.
But the changes go much further. Historic Scotland has sought to broaden the appeal of the collection so this magnificent cultural resource can be more readily appreciated by all.
Young people are a particular target. Children love the Picts; the tales and legends that swirl around them fire the imagination. So the refurbished museum has been designed to feed the flames, to encourage enquiring minds to wonder about these people, how they lived and what they believed.
The stones are perfect for this purpose, because they are far from being still and speechless fragments from an unknowable past. The simple fluidity of some of the art, whether it’s a startled stag about to rush for cover, or a raven taking bread to a hungry saint, provides a direct link to the minds of the artists, as well as to their patrons and the intended audience.
These are images straight from the experiences and ideas of vibrant, talented and skilful people who were able to capture a moment in time and culture – to lock it to the stone, but retain its energy.
The result is a magnificent mix of boars, bears, deer, lions, salmon and hunters, all jostling for space on the stones. A touch screen presentation is available for those with an in-depth interest.
The efforts to attract children and families are not at the expense of providing for the expert, quite the opposite. After all, the St Vigeans Stones are among the best resources available to historians, archaeologists and others. Thanks to a new cd-rom and booklet containing information from the database, visitors can effectively take the collection home in their pockets. This gives them direct access to the latest research, commissioned by Historic Scotland, upon which the entire representation is based.
The most exciting aspect of the project has been the new meanings ascribed to the scenes and individuals carved on the stones, meanings which were thought to be lost forever. It has involved everything from geological analysis – to find out where the stones were quarried – through to detailed investigations into placenames and art history. The study was led by Dr Jane Geddes, of the University of Aberdeen’s history of art department, who is due to publish the full findings.
Why should this marvellous multitude of Pictish stones have been in the kirkyard of a small, sleepy Angus hamlet? Although this can never be known for certain, the answer appears to be that visitors of 1,200 years ago would have found themselves in a bustling royal power centre complete with an important monastery, resourced by royal patronage.
And there could have been a lot of visitors, as it appears to have been a pilgrimage centre with the faithful coming from far and wide, possibly to visit relics of an Irish holy man, St Féchin, who died around 664 ad. Indeed it is his name which has morphed into the modern St Vigeans.
Some of the pilgrims, traders and visiting dignitaries would have arrived at Arbroath, which was then just a small port for the great settlement at St Vigeans. They would have seen carved stones along the way, acting as boundary markers, possibly painted in bright colours. But most of the stones were memorials standing on the church hill, marking the graves of warriors and monks.
It was not just the hustle and bustle of the physical world that made it a place of importance. For the monks, and all the Christian faithful, the realm of the spirit was just as real and vibrant.
At St Vigeans the domains of man and God were closely intertwined; the divine had real and tangible presence. The images on the stones reflect the idea that the forces of good and evil were active and present on Earth.
Instructive messages from the scriptures were broadcast from the stones, featuring Saints Anthony and Paul, the first ideal monks, alongside at least one image of the Holy Trinity.
The end of the Pictish kingdom brought cultural change, not least the disappearance of their style of stone carving. At St Vigeans this coincided with the decline of what had been a great centre of the Pictish church.
As times moved on the stones lost their relevance, so by the 12th century, when the time came to build a new parish church on the ancient holy hill at St Vigeans, they were just seen as a handy source of building materials.
Little did the builders realise that they were doing us, and the stones, a tremendous favour. Rather than being eroded by wind and rain, or cracked by ice and heat, many were kept snug and secure within the kirk walls.
Then there was the decline in importance of the whole settlement, while neighbouring Arbroath developed around the royal monastery founded there in 1178.
While the surviving collection must be only a fraction of the high quality output of the sculpture workshop at St Vigeans, this is enough to provide us with an artistic legacy that speaks eloquently of an ancient people, of their symbolism, clothes, beliefs and lifestyles.
Yet the stones are hardy; more may yet survive in the kirk walls and buried under the church hill.
Perhaps most of all the stones underline their passion for the natural world and the wild creatures all around them –some of which have followed the Picts to extinction.
The St Vigeans museum is one mile from Arbroath off the A92. It is open from April to October on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday from 10am to 3pm; between November and March from 10am to 1pm.
Matthew Shelley is a freelance journalist and communications consultant who has worked with Historic Scotland for the past six years. He was previously Glasgow news editor of the Scotsman, which he left to study for a (nearly completed) PhD in underwater archaeology. He lives with his wife Jennifer, and greyhound, in rural Perthshire.
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