The Medieval Origins of the Graphics on the Irish Pound Note

Leabhar na hUidhre, or the Book of the Dun Cow (MS 23 E 25), a 12th-century manuscript, is the oldest extant manuscript in the Irish vernacular. Currently held in the Royal Irish Academy, the book has suffered extensive damage, with only 67 leaves remaining, most of which are incomplete texts. The name derives from a 6th-century sacred relic of Clonmacnoise, the hide of the dun cow that belonged to St Ciarán. St Ciarán’s cow features prominently in folklore and hagiography connected with the saint. According to legend, St Ciarán left home to train under St Finnian at Clonard. On his departure, he asked his mother to let him take one of the family cows along with him to the monastery. When she refused, he set off on his journey, blessing a grayish-brown (dun) cow as he left. The cow and her calf followed St Ciarán to Clonnard, miraculously providing “twelve bishops with their folk and their guests”(1) copious amounts of milk.

Ciarán’s Dun was wont to feed,
three times fifty men in all;
Guests and sick folk in their need,
in soller and in dining-hall.
Anonymous

Upon her death, the Dun cow’s hide became a relic at Clonmacnoise, claiming salvation for the blessed souls. 

“The hide of the Dun is in Clonmacnoise, and whatsoever soul parteth from its
body from that hide [hath no portion in hell, and] dwelleth in eternal life.”

The Latin & Irish Lives of Ciaran

The prevailing legend of the book claims that the original vellum comprising the folios in Leabhar na hUidre came from the hide of the scared cow.  

The Leabhar na hUidre contains the oldest version of the Táin Bó Cuailgne (The Cattle Raid of Cooley), Compert Con Culainn (The Conception of Cú Chulainn), Bricriu’s Feast and other religious, mythical, and historical material. However, it is probably most recognized as the print on the reverse side of the Irish One Pound note, circulating throughout the Irish banking system until 1989. The Queen Medb £1 Note featuring the warrior Queen on its front came into service in June 1977.

On the reverse side was a graphic portraying an extract from page 77 of MS 23 E 25 (The Book of the Dun Cow). The excerpt is from the Táin bó Cuailnge (The Cattle Raid of Cooley). Sometimes referred to as the “Irish Iliad,” the Táin tells the story of Queen Meave of Connaught’s war, waged against Ulster to capture the stud bull Donn Cuailnge (the brown bull of Cooley), a mythical creature who was once a human.

The passage on the pound note highlights a decorative initial “R” in red and green ink, probably adapting the original colors to comply with the two-tone currency printing regulations. In comparison, the manuscript uses yellow, purple, and red as the primary colors and exhibits evidence of wear and tear, which the graphic reproduction eliminates.

The designers of the Irish currency in the late 1970s chose a book with associations to a sacred brown cow and further chose a passage from a tale involving a mythical brown bull. If these decisions are deliberate, one wonders if the “cash” cow pun was intentional or if it was merely a coincidence when combining Queen Maeve’s image with a narrative from her history.

_{(1) Anonymous, “How Ciaran Went With His Cow to the School of Findian,” The Latin & Irish Lives of Ciaran, (06/12/2017), https://www.moboreader.com/readBook/16253322/328757/The-Latin-Irish-Lives-of-Ciaran.}

_{(2) For the digitised manuscript visit: https://www.isos.dias.ie.}

In medieval manuscripts, portraits of living people served a religious function by depicting the figure (typically the owner, patron, or scribe of the book) in prayer before Christ or a saint. Portrayals of living individuals in this manner disrupted temporal and spatial boundaries, allowing the viewer to interject themselves into the vision. This liminal space allowed the audience to imagine themselves in the presence of divinity, granting them a direct and personal channel to the divine.

In the Book of Kells, several folios contain groupings of monks within their illuminations. The placement of these figures, sometimes integrated into the compositions’ borders, raises questions about their purpose and identities.

For example, in Folio 7V, The Virgin and Child, a small panel – containing six heads – physically breaks the boundary in the right-hand margin. These figures avert their gaze away from the Madonna rather than communing with the divinity. So, why would these monastic figures be facing away from the Virgin and Child? One possible explanation may come from the construction of the manuscript. Folio 7V is verso, meaning it is the left-hand page of the open book. Therefore the opposite page on the right-hand of the manuscript, folio 8R (recto), faces the gaze of the six heads. Folio 8r: Breves causae of Matthew I-III illustrates the lavishly decorated text that opens the summaries of the Gospel of Matthew.

The summary of events on this page reads as follows:

NATIUITAS XPI IN BETHLEM IU DEAE MAGI MUNERA OFFERUNT ET INFANTES INTER FICIUNTUR REGRESSIO

THE BIRTH OF CHRIST IN BETHLEHEM OF JUDEA THE WISE MEN OFFER GIFTS AND THE CHILDREN ARE KILLED

It is important to remember that the Book of Kells was not a private devotional book. The scholarly consensus is that the book’s intention was for use during ecclesiastical ceremonies but most likely was not read from so much as shown to the congregation. As such, the six figures in the border most likely represent the monastic audience contemplating the Word of the Gospel.

Furthermore, a new technology that enabled scholars to magnify the image at high resolution revealed the outline of a processional cross topped with a bird. The flared design at the structure’s base suggests a procession cross that could be inserted into a base to stand on the altar. This detail may represent a cross that once stood in the original monastery.

Viewing the two pages side by side, we can see that this cross stands within the line of sight of the six figures. Perhaps this serves as a reminder to focus on the ceremony celebrated at the altar.

Throughout the centuries, the devotion to and the veneration of the Virgin Mary led to several Roman Catholic Marian Movements and Societies. These societies form part of the fabric of Roman Catholic Mariology. In the mid-16th century, the Holy See endorsed the Sodality of Our Lady. A few decades later, in 1584, Pope Gregory XIII issued a Papal Bull commending it and establishing it as the ‘Prima Primaria,’ the head source of indulgences for other sodalities of Our Lady.

The 18th and 19th centuries saw many missionary Marian organizations such as the Company of Mary, the Marianists, the Marist Fathers, and the Marist Brothers. The 20th century witnessed further expansion with the formation of Marian societies, such as the Legion of Mary and the Blue Army of Our Lady of Fatima.

In 1940s Ireland, Marian sodalities, such as the Sodality of Our Lady, boasted upwards of 250,000 members. Young girls signed promissory notes pledging to uphold the core values of:

• Devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary,
• Daily recitation of the Rosary and
• Righteous observance of the duties of one’s vocation.

The children were also to wear a blue ribbon or medal to remember the promise.

Growing up in Ireland in the 1940s, our mother was a member of the Sodality of Our Lady. Below is an image of the Sodality Manual and Marian Medal commemorating her devotion to Mary.

On the first page of this Manual is a brief history explaining the origins of the Sodality. The foundation began in 1563 with a young Belgian Jesuit, Father John Leunis, who sought to inspire his young male pupils to be: 

“A Knight of Our Lady – her perpetual servant – to be worthy of her. To put on her white armour; to be a Galahad with the strength of ten – here was a high aim – a star to guide them through the storms of life.”

The wording in this passage is curious. References to armor and knights, specifically Sir Galahad, allude to the intersection between Catholicism and the Arthurian Legends. One link between the Legends of Arthur and the Catholic Church was Chivalry (the oaths of a knight). The church’s teachings were often the basis on which Arthur made all his knights take these oaths. Knights were to remain loyal to the church and always obey its teachings and direction in defense of the church. Sir Galahad is worthy enough to have the Grail revealed to him and to ascend into Heaven. He is renowned for his gallantry and purity as the most perfect of all knights. 

The passage is also reminiscent of a “call to arms,” commanding the boys to don Our Lady’s “white armour.” Sir Galahad is known as the “White Knight” after receiving a holy white shield from a mysterious knight in glistening white armor.

Perhaps, Father Leunis was seeking to inspire these young boys by using the chivalrous knights as models of devotion.

Interestingly, from 1584 – 1751 membership in the Sodality was exclusively male. It was only in 1751 that Pope Benedict XIV gave leave to aggregate Soladites of married women and girls.

In the early middle ages, Christian imagery often functioned beyond mere decoration.
Despite the iconoclastic controversy, the idea that images could serve as a “text” for the illiterate and the learned — was a widely used device in creating representations of the Christian doctrine. In this sense, images became multi-layered vehicles of devotion that could simultaneously communicate to the laypeople and members of the clergy. These instruments of faith sought to convey God’s word through imagery that would be recognizable to the uneducated population as instructional tools for conversion to Christianity. At the same time, these visual programs could serve as icons for reflection and meditation for the pious monks, spending their days in spiritual contemplation.

During the ninth and tenth centuries, developments in such artistic communications intensified, in part due to the ongoing controversy over iconoclasm. In creating Christian monuments, visual messages began to promote education or introspection instead of idolatry, leading to the evolution of new modes of symbolic communication.

One such monument is the Ruthwell Cross (c. late 7th early 8th century) in Scotland. The Ruthwell Cross is closely related to the contemporary Irish high crosses, and both are examples of the Insular art tradition. In this case, the object uses imagery to convey a story for the viewer to contemplate. This viewer could interpret their meanings depending upon the layer of storytelling directly engaging him. For example, a monk contemplating The Ruthwell Cross would be knowledgeable of the Biblical text inscribed within the imagery of the Cross. The Latin text and carved reliefs of Saints Paul and Antony in the desert speak to the particular reader of these cross sets. The complex interlocking of scenes that all point to the desert harkens back to the idea of spiritual living in the desert or wilderness, an essential tradition of monastic life during the early middle ages. Before St. Benedict’s guide to monastic life, written in 529, monasteries were located in remote areas such as the uninhabited wilderness or on islands. The monks would lead a solitary life, strengthening their faith and testing the resolve of their souls in imitation of the biblical stories. A learned monk meditating on this theme depicted on the Ruthwell Cross would remind himself of his vows and devotion to Christ.

Ruthwell Cross, 7th-8th century, Depicting scenes of “Jesus Christ: the judge of righteousness” and Saints Paul and Anthony in the desert, 18′ high, stone, Ruthwell, Scotland (previously Kingdom of Northumbria)

However, the Cross is bilingual, both figuratively and literally. Along with Latin is a carving of a second set of inscriptions in the runic language, which was the vernacular of the common people. Descendants of the invading tribes, such as the Visigoths and the Vikings, were now settled into the local population and were still predominantly pagan. Thus, the Cross, a public monument, could also serve as an educational tool to convert this segment of the community to Christianity. In addition to the dual language, the images themselves narrate illustrations of scenes from the life of Christ, which could further aid the local clergy in their instruction of the complex faith to the laypeople.

Additionally, it came to be known as a “speaking” cross. Interpretations of the runic inscription attribute it to an Old English poem where the narrator is “speaking to” the Cross of the Crucifixion. The inscription “says” that Christ and the Cross are one. This language may also relate to the design of the Cross itself, which depicts a circular motif in the center of the arms of the Cross, resembling the haloed figure of Christ beneath it, and possibly rendering the entire structure as a symbol for the crucified Christ. Once again, it utilizes the combination of image and text to explain a concept.

The Cross’s visual program directly infers the biblical themes of struggle and enlightenment in the solitude of the wilderness or desert. A humble setting, such as the rural countryside of Scotland, is succinctly aligned with the pure principles of Christianity unadulterated by political agendas. However, one should also consider the agenda of conversion when examining the purpose of the Ruthwell Cross. Conversion has, in its way, an agenda of power. It is essentially about one group’s system of belief exerting its ideals over another. When contemplating the Cross in this manner, it becomes more closely aligned to the lavish, expensive, and potentially politically charged monuments found in medieval Europe’s religious and political centers.

A constant duality occurs in the Ruthwell Cross, which manifests itself on many layers. When considering its setting, visual program, history, and methods of communication, the complexity of its purpose becomes an open-ended conversation regarding the history of religion, politics, and art. Perhaps this was the ultimate purpose of such a monument of faith; to leave the viewer constantly in a state of contemplation, reflecting on faith, power, and purpose.

The connection between Medieval manuscripts and comic book art in recent posts addresses one aspect of potential influence. However, transversely, the medium of comic book art has served as an inspiration for artists intrigued by the realms of fantasy, mythology, and folklore. For example, Irish artist Jim Fitzpatrick (most recognized for his work based on the myths and legends of his Irish heritage) attributes American comic book art as one of his earliest influences.

Beyond the realm of the book, today’s fantasy films also exhibit the influence of Celtic-style imagery. For example, the Lord of the Rings trilogy displays rich and intricate Celtic motifs in many of its settings.

The most prominent segment of the Lord of the Rings movies where this imagery is evident is the scenes taking place in the kingdom of Rohan.

In the film, the set’s design looks like an ancient Celtic village complete with thatch roof buildings and elaborate, gilded knotwork in the decorations of the King’s residence. The costumes of King Theoden and his niece Eowyn are also potentially Celtic, as are the designs of the armor of the warriors.

It is also interesting to note that the people of Rohan in the story are excellent horsemen who hail from a society that reveres the horse, which is similar to the ancient Celts. Although, these conventions could be referencing a Viking tradition as well. The continuous circle of transcultural exchange can be a slippery slope.

As mentioned in the previous post, the format of modern comic books has been linked to medieval manuscripts by many scholars. Perhaps the most striking example is folio 13r-1 from the Dijon BM MS.14, a 12th-century manuscript known as the Bible of Stephen Harding.

Hailing from Burgundy, France, this manuscript dates from approximately 1109-1111, and its attribution is given to St. Stephen Harding, one of the founders of the Cistercian Order. Although scholars believe St. Stephen Harding to be the scribe, the illuminations appear to be by the hand of three separate artists deploying three distinctive styles.

In this example, folio 13r-1, the artist is illustrating scenes from the life of David in a sequential format complete with accompanying narrative. The page design is read in consecutive panels, from left to right, with text blocks integrated with the images to identify characters and clarify their actions. (Possible precursor to speech balloons?)

The most eye-catching feature of this page is the enlarged image of Goliath. His figure bursts through the framework of the panels, with spear raised in a pose reminiscent of a comic book superhero — or here, the supervillain. The giant’s dramatic figure also draws the viewer’s attention to one of the most prominent stories from King David’s life by further increasing the drama and action of the scene.

However, the use of sequential visual storytelling is not unique to this manuscript. For example, the Bayeux Tapestry, created in the 11th-century, is another example of a sequential narrative. The Tapestry depicts events of the Norman Conquest of England from the point of view of the conquering Normans. There are many iconographic similarities between this monumental embroidery and the folio from the Bible of Stephen Harding, including integrated text providing character identifications and clarification of actions in scenes. 

Perhaps the origin of the modern-day comic book dates even further back in time.

For most of the musings on this blog, I have searched for the ever-elusive origins of “Irish” art. As a research question, it is not a very fruitful line of questioning. It sometimes feels like the proverbial question, “Which came first? The chicken or the egg?” Still, the exploration of cross-culturalism teaches us a great deal—particularly the exchange of ideologies in past civilizations.

However, I am fast-forwarding considerably in this post due to my recent discovery of comic book characters based on Irish mythological figures.

In 1993, Marvel Comics introduced a new character to their Guardians of the Galaxy title. This comic book series started in 1969, tells of the adventures of the Guardians of the Galaxy, a team of superheroes and aliens committed to protecting the inhabitants of the Milky Way Galaxy from all evil forces.

According to the Marvel Fandom database¹, Dr. Druid summoned the soul of the “Irish Wolfhound” that resided within Molly FitzGerald, a.k.a. Shamrock, after she had become the author of none other than the mystical Book of Kells.

The “Irish Wolfhound,” a.k.a. Cuchulain, is a warrior hero from Irish mythology. His father is Lugh, the Celtic God of the sun, and his mother is Deichtire, a druid priestess. There are many tales of his heroic deeds in the old legends, and he remains a prominent figure in Irish culture to this day.

In his Marvel iteration, Cuchulain carries a “throwing stick” and dons a breastplate and helmet embellished with Celtic knotwork, with a green mantle. In Irish mythology, Cuchulain’s father, Lugh, is known as “Lugh of the long arm.” One excerpt from the “Táin Bó Cúalnge Recension 1” describes Lugh as:

A man fair and tall, with a great head of curly yellow hair. He has a green mantle wrapped about him and a brooch of white silver in the mantle over his breast. Next to his white skin, he wears a tunic of royal satin with red-gold insertion reaching to his knees. He carries a black shield with a hard boss of white-bronze. In his hand a five-pointed spear and next to it a forked javelin. Wonderful is the play and sport and diversion that he makes (with these weapons). But none accosts him and he accosts none as if no one could see him.2

• 

• 

It seems as if the artists at Marvel may have super-imposed some of the physical attributes of Lugh on their character Cuchulain.

The mysticism and magic surrounding the heroes and heroines of the Celtic tales lend themselves well to the medium of comic book art. It is also interesting to note that some scholars have suggested a connection between the format of comic book art and medieval manuscripts.

_{1. https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Cuchulain_(Earth-691)}

_{2. O’Rahilly, Cecile. “Táin Bó Cúalnge Recension 1”. Corpus of Electronic Texts. University College, Cork.}

When admiring the masterpiece that is the Book of Kells, some have said it could be the work of angels. This statement is uttered, of course, in response to the remarkable artistry on every page of the manuscript. Each exquisitely embellished page contains intricate and masterfully crafted illuminations that seem to have been created not only in honor of God but also by His heavenly creatures’ hands. However, we know this was not the case. Instead, the Book of Kells was the result of the painstaking labor of devoted medieval monks. Nevertheless, unfortunately, although they were master artisans, they were mere humans, and therefore susceptible to the odd mistake.

There is one page in the manuscript that seems to reveal a few blunders. At first glance, it appears to be one of the most ornate and attractive pages in the book. However, a closer look exposes a few possible flaws.

Folio 129v is a particularly unique design. The symbols of the evangelists appear in the circular frames within the quadrants. However, the symbols of St. John, St. Mark, and St. Luke appear secondarily inside the rectangular borders of each other’s quadrants. This artistic choice is curious as it breaks with the symmetry apparent in the other examples of the evangelist illuminations. (see previous post) For instance, the quadrant devoted to St. Matthew includes dual images of his symbol of Man. However, St. Mark’s quadrant includes the symbols of St. Luke and St. John in the lower portion of the frame. The following quadrant depicts St. Luke as the Ox with the symbol of St. John and a second illumination of the evangelical symbol of St. Luke in the upper region of the frame. Finally, the quadrant devoted to St. John again includes the symbols of St. Mark and St. Luke below, with the border of the frame partially obscuring their lower bodies and limbs.

Further punctuating this departure from the book’s meticulous design and symmetry are the pronounced errors occurring in the border base at the bottom of the page. On close examination, it is apparent that the inverted “T” in the lower region of the frame has arms of unequal length, disturbing the central balance of the entire illumination. Directly below this, the small, central ornamental design is shifted slightly to the right, rather than mirroring the embellishments on the upper border of the page.

Another potential error occurs in St. Matthew’s quadrant. Here, the artist has filled in the upper portion of the frame with green ink, leaving the remainder of the background uncolored. The lack of additional background color does not seem to be an issue of fading or peeling. If we examine the recto side of the parchment, it is apparent that the only ink applied to the background of the quadrant is the solitary block of green that has seeped through the fibers of the vellum.

• 

• 

Having said all this, we must remember that these monks were toiling long hours, with only the light of candles to guide their weary eyes. After all, to err is human, to forgive divine.

The symbols of the four Evangelists derive from the four beasts of Ezekiel and the Book of Revelation appearing in manuscript illuminations at an early stage of Christianity. According to the Bible, both the prophet Ezekiel and the apostle John receive visions of the throne of God surrounded by four beasts.

And in the midst of the throne and around the throne were four beasts, full of eyes in front and behind. And the first beast was like a lion, and the second beast was like a bovine, and the third beast was like a man’s, and the fourth beast was like a flying eagle. And the four creatures had six wings each before them and were full of eyes all around and within, and they had rest day and night. – (Revelation 4: 6b-8a)

These four animals came to represent the four evangelists as follows:

Evangelist	Symbol	Significance
St. Matthew	The Man	Emphasizes the human aspect of the Savior (Christ’s Birth)
St. Luke	The Ox (Bovine)	Represents sacrifice (Christ’s Crucifixion)
St. Mark	The Lion	Signifies Christ’s power and royalty (Christ’s Resurrection)
St. John	The Eagle	Symbolizes ascension (Christ’s Ascention into Heaven)

There are four pages in the Book of Kells illustrating the symbolic representations of the evangelists. Each one is markedly different, displaying artistic diversity in its layout and stylization.

Unfortunately, folio 1r, which depicts the Hebrew names and Evangelist symbols, has been badly damaged, making the symbols difficult to decipher. The enhanced image below serves to distinguish the four figures.

Symbols played a significant role in early Christianity and, in some cases, served dual purposes. For example, the evangelical symbols are also representations of the four stages of Christ’s life which correspond with the Gospel according to the respective evangelist:

• Man = The Nativity
• Ox = The Crucifixion
• Lion = The Resurrection
• Eagle = The Ascension