The Forgotten Turf

January 4, 2025 by Mike Konrad

There is a forgotten piece of turf — at least to us Americans — that has probably the greatest effect on history outside Jerusalem. Yet, thanks to name changes and legends crowding out the truth — if they really be legends — no one seems to know or understand it.

But before we started, we have to dispense with modern terminology.

Until the Middle Ages, the word “Scot” referred to the Gaels (from Ireland). Their name hearkened back to their quasi-historical origin myth. They claim to have originated in Scythia (now Ukraine).

Supposedly, in ancient times, the quasi-mythological leader of these Scythians, Nel, had moved to Egypt as an invited scholar, then married an ancient Egyptian princess named Scota. Supposedly, their son, Goidel Glas, knew Moses, who had healed Goidel of a snakebite. That last part of history is chalked up to monastic confabulation.

These early proto-Gaels would move to Sardinia and then Spain. Later on, another Scota (or Scotia), matriarch of the tribe, supposedly landed in County Kerry, Ireland. One can see the etymological connection between Scythia and Scota. And one notices more than one Scota as a royal, indicating that some historical figures might have been conflated.

Ireland was called Hibernia by the Romans and also Scotia Major. Finally, some of these Gaels moved to Western Scotland (Argyll, which means coast of the Gaels), and took the demonym with them. (Scythia means land of the Scyths. Scyth → Scot. Scotland means land of the Scots.) Meanwhile, it would be the invading Normans who gave Ireland its modern name — Eire + land — around the 12th century.

The Scottish Declaration of Arbroath — their declaration of independence from England — makes mention of this: “the Scots, has been graced with widespread renown. It journeyed from Greater Scythia by way of the Tyrrhenian Sea and the Pillars of Hercules, and dwelt for a long course of time in Spain “

So what? one might say. What has this go to do with today and the price of beans?

Well, at the northeast tip of Ireland was a tribal kingdom called Dalriada, which covered parts of northeastern Ireland and western Scotland. The people were Gaelic. The Gaels had started settling the Scottish area — some say by conquest, more likely by invitation.

The adjacent Picts in Scotland (possibly Pretani in their own language; Pretani → Britani) had also claimed descent from Scythia, had originally sailed to Ireland, and had asked the Gaels of Ireland to let them settle among them. If so, the Picts would have been closely related to the Gaels.

The Irish recommended that they settle instead on the island adjacent to them (Scotland). The Picts then asked the Irish if they could supply some Gaelic women, as the Picts were lacking women. The Irish agreed, provided that the Picts would agree that any contested descent go through the maternal line. So it should be obvious that these people were all but indistinguishable Celts.

Some say that Picts and Gaels spoke different languages, but it’s more likely that when a later Irish missionary, Columba (Colum Cille), tried to Christianize the Picts, he had to bring along a translator because the bibles he used were written in Latin, not because Gaels and Pictish were all that different. The Picts did not leave much writing — similar to the pre-Christian Irish.

The pre-Christian Druids were elites who had discouraged writing, since they relied on oral traditions. The Picts would have done likewise. The Gaels had acquired a head start in literacy with the coming of the Gospel. But the upshot is that the Picts left little records.

Columba (Colum Cille) was a Celtic noble from what would later be known as the O’Neill clan. He would take a coronation stone with him and anoint King Aiden as the king of Dalriada, promising him success if he did not mess with his own family back in Ulster (the O’Neills).

The English and Lowland Scots (who were later Germanic arrivals) would later ignore that warning, and hence Ireland is still feuding to this day.

Soon after, there would be a war over Dalriada. The Battle of Moira (A.D. 637) would be an Irish victory that established Ireland’s sovereignty over the Irish portion of the Dalriada. The Eastern Scots (Argyll) could go free, but County Antrim and Down would remain under Irish (Western Scots) rule. Columba’s prophecy was proven right. For those favoring Irish unification, there is your precedent, right there. Too bad England and the Lowland Scots didn’t listen.

The official story is that the Picts were conquered by the Gaels. But more likely — apart from a few clan battles (Celts always liked to feud) — they probably easily mixed. And by the 8th century, the Scots and Picts had founded a united Gaelic-speaking kingdom under Kenneth MacAlpine called Alba, but in English “Scotland,” which ironically etymologically means Land of the Irish. The Scots had come from Ireland.

Historians wonder why the Picts dissolved so fast into Gaelic. The truth is that they probably saw each other as relatives, with the Scots, being literate, worthy of emulation. Once the Picts were Christianized and given literacy, they probably blended rather fast.

Though the Battle of Moira firmly placed Ulster under Irish control, little else changed. Alba (Scota Minor/Scotland) and Ireland (Scota Major) were culturally indistinguishable and would remain so until the Reformation. Well, almost. The English/Normans/Danish/Vikings took over in the south of Scotland, becoming the Lowlanders, and would later take over from the Celts (the Highlanders/the real Scots) who had founded the country. These Lowlanders would become the pro-British Orangemen of Ulster. No one listened to Columba.

The legends of King Arthur possibly stem from one of those Dalriadic princes: Artuir Mac Aedan, who, though Scots born, had a Welsh mother. Hence, the Welsh could claim him through the maternal line.

Legends say that the stone that Columba brought over from Ireland to Scottish Dalriada was originally Jacob’s Pillar, the stone where Jacob made a covenant with God (Gen. 28:18-21), and with it, God empowered the royal line of whoever was crowned on it: the legendary Stone of Scone. How it got to Ireland from Israel...well, that is chalked up to more monastic confabulations.

Are the legends true? Who knows?

Latter-day folk singers would make fun of the legend, when some Scottish nationalists stole the stone back in 1950. At least for a while.

But just remember that the Gaels love whiskey and blarney, so take the stories with a grain of salt. Mineralogists say the stone is probably from a local quarry in Scotland, not Ireland, and almost certainly not the Mideast. But that applies only if the “stone” tested was the real “stone of destiny.”

Even if one dismisses the legends as total nonsense or gross exaggeration, the king of England must’ve believed it. Edward Longshanks stole the coronation stone and brought it to London to crown English kings. Churchill believed in the legend; he wanted to fly the Stone of Scone to Canada to protect it in case of a Nazi invasion.

In spite of religious differences, the Catholic Irish and the Presbyterian Highlanders often united to fight English kings: the failed Jacobite Rebellions. The result was savage discrimination against both groups, leading to the Highland Clearances and the Potato Famine. Most of the Gaels were driven out...to America, to Canada, etc.

Now, I am not Scottish, but I find all of this fascinating, for the history of this people filters through a small plot of land called Dalriada, which was a transit point. The Stone of Scone legends and King Arthur legends filter through this area. The area transited missionaries who set up universities all over Europe. Western civilization came through that little plot of land.

The Irish were persecuted for becoming the Catholics that the English had insisted they become. Ironically, later on, the English adopted Anglicanism, a dissident Christianity possibly engineered by the Celts. The Highlanders were persecuted because they could not brook the English imposing a Germanic Hanoverian monarchy on them.

And the people who civilized the Anglo-Saxons were later driven out by them. And most of it strained through that forgotten turf.

Mike Konrad, who still struggles with Spanish, is a frustrated web designer and is presently trying to get a humorous short story of his published: “The Pirate of Gaza.”