Visit any historic church in Britain, and the odds are good that you will find centuries-old graffiti drawn on or carved into the walls, pillars, memorials, or furnishings. Some of these designs are deep, elaborate, and in very visible areas, suggesting that their creators had not been shy about working away in plain sight for some time. It appears that, at least in the medieval period, graffiti was not seen as the social scourge that it is today. But when did this change in attitude – or, at least, in law – occur? In Orkney, we can assign a very precise date: 29 July 1891.
On that day, the Orkney Herald attests, the Sheriff’s Court in Kirkwall heard the case of Henry Hutcheon, a resident of Aberdeen who had been caught using a hammer and chisel to carve his initials into the tower of St Magnus Cathedral. Hutcheon readily admitted the charge, but argued in his defence that the stonework was already so covered with names – including those of such distinguished people as Queen Victoria’s son, Prince Alfred – that ‘I did not think there could be any harm done if I put mine there too’. Sheriff Thoms, however, was unmoved, decrying such inscriptions as ‘an act of vandalism’, sentencing Hutcheon (the July-December 1891 edition of The Antiquary tells us) to a £1 fine or a month in prison, and banning any further graffiti in the cathedral.
To help enforce this last ruling, the cathedral employed its first custodian – Peter Wick, whose grave can still be seen within St Magnus churchyard – and a key part of his job description was to prevent more people from carving their names on walls. More than 130 years later, these markings represent illuminating archaeological evidence – echoes of centuries of pilgrims, congregants, and secular visitors to the site – and the cathedral’s current custodian, Fran Flett Hollinrake, has been working with a host of local volunteers to document hundreds of drawings and inscriptions within the building.
Redrawing the family tree