Latest / The Story of Scotland: Clans, Crowns, and the Fight for Identity — Fexingo History / The Lewis Chessmen: Medieval Game Pieces from the Hebrides
Transcript
- Lucas: So, Luna, we've covered a lot of ground in this show — battles, kings, clans, disasters. But for episode 100, I thought we'd look at something that's not a battle or a treaty. It's a set of tiny carved figures, found buried in a beach on the Isle of Lewis. Luna: The Lewis Chessmen. I've seen pictures — they're incredible. Those intense expressions. Lucas: Exactly. They're among the most famous archaeological finds from medieval Scotland. But they're also deeply mysterious. Who made them? Why were they buried? And — this is the part that fascinates me — they tell us a lot about the world of the Norse-Gaels, a culture we've touched on in previous episodes about Somerled and the Lordship of the Isles. Luna: So they're not just chess pieces. They're like a window into a lost world. Lucas: Precisely. They were discovered in 1831, on a beach near the village of Uig, on the west coast of Lewis. A local man named Malcolm MacLeod found them in a small stone chamber, buried in the sand. There were 93 pieces in total — mostly chessmen, but also a few other gaming pieces, and even a belt buckle. They're carved from walrus ivory, and some from whale tooth. They date to the 12th century, around 1150 to 1200. Luna: Wait — walrus ivory. So they're from the North Atlantic, where walruses were hunted. Does that mean they were made locally? Lucas: That's the big question. For a long time, scholars thought they were carved in Trondheim, in Norway. The style is Romanesque, and Trondheim was a major artistic centre then. But more recent research has suggested they could have been made in the Hebrides, by Norse-Gaelic craftsmen. The walrus ivory could have come from Greenland or the Arctic, traded through Norse networks. The pieces themselves show a mix of Scandinavian and Celtic motifs — the thrones, the shields, even the patterns on the robes. Luna: So they're a hybrid — like the culture that made them. Lucas: Exactly. The Norse-Gaels were the descendants of Viking settlers who intermarried with the local Gaelic population. By the 12th century, they controlled the Hebrides and parts of the mainland. They spoke Gaelic, but they still had strong ties to Scandinavia. So these chessmen could be the perfect symbol of that dual identity. Luna: And they were buried on a beach. Why? Was it a hidden treasure? A ritual offering? Lucas: No one knows for sure. One theory is that a merchant or a traveller hid them for safekeeping and never came back. Another is that they were a votive deposit — a gift to the gods, or to the land. There's a legend that a shepherd found them and thought they were a group of little people, or elves, and ran away. But that's probably just folklore. Luna: I read that there's one piece that doesn't fit — a 'crocodile' or some kind of monster. Lucas: Yes! There's a piece that looks like a dragon or a serpent biting its own tail. Some people call it a 'crocodile'. It's not a standard chess piece. It might have been a piece from a different game, or a decorative carving. It adds to the mystery. Luna: And the expressions — some of them look terrified, others are laughing. They have so much personality. Lucas: The berserkers — the rooks in the set — are shown biting their shields, which is a classic Norse trope of frenzied warriors. The kings look stern, the queens thoughtful, the bishops serene. They're incredibly detailed. You can see the texture of the hair, the folds of the cloaks. It's Romanesque art at its finest. Luna: Chess itself came from India, right? How did it get to the Hebrides? Lucas: Chess originated in India around the 6th century, as chaturanga. It spread through Persia, where it became shatranj, and then into the Islamic world. By the 10th century, it reached Europe through Spain and Sicily, and also through Viking trade routes. The Norse were great travellers — they brought chess up the rivers of Russia, through the Baltic, to Scandinavia. So by the 12th century, chess was well known in the North Atlantic world. These pieces are among the oldest complete chess sets ever found. Luna: So the game itself is a kind of history — moving from culture to culture. Lucas: Exactly. And the pieces we have are not just a game set; they're a snapshot of medieval society. The hierarchy — king, queen, bishop, knight, rook, pawn — mirrors the feudal order. The bishops are shown in their ecclesiastical robes, the knights on horseback. It's a miniature world. Luna: But they weren't all found together. Some are in London, some in Edinburgh. Lucas: Right. After they were discovered, they were sold to a dealer, and then acquired by the British Museum. Eighty-two pieces stayed in London. Eleven are in the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh. For a long time, there were campaigns to have them all reunited in Scotland. But the British Museum has resisted. It's a sensitive issue. Luna: It's like the Elgin Marbles debate writ small. Who does cultural heritage belong to? Lucas: Exactly. And the Lewis Chessmen have become a symbol of Scottish cultural identity. They're on everything — stamps, coins, even a TV show. They're beloved. But they also represent a complex history: Norse, Gaelic, Scottish, British. Luna: Before we go on, I want to mention something. Making this show — a hundred episodes now — takes a huge amount of research and time. And we keep it ad-free because a small number of listeners support us through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's not a big ask — just if you find value in these conversations, that's what keeps them going. Lucas: Yeah. We're grateful for every person who chips in. It means we can keep digging into these stories without worrying about sponsorship. And we've got so many more to tell. Luna: Alright — back to the chessmen. So they're a piece of art, a historical document, and a political football. Lucas: And a reminder that the past is never settled. Take the so-called 'Bishop' pieces. In medieval chess, the bishop was originally an elephant — from the Indian game. But in Europe, elephants were unknown, so the piece became a bishop. Yet in some of the Lewis pieces, you can see what looks like a bishop's mitre — but it's actually a stylised elephant's head, reinterpreted. It's a beautiful example of how cultures adapt things. Luna: So even the design tells a story of transmission. Lucas: Exactly. And there's another layer: some scholars have suggested that the pieces weren't just for chess. They might have been used for a different game called hnefatafl, which was popular in Norse culture. Hnefatafl is a game of strategy where one side tries to capture the other's king. The pieces are similar. So maybe the set was multi-purpose. Luna: That would explain why there are so many pieces, and why some don't fit standard chess. Lucas: Precisely. The set contains 19 pawns, which is unusual — chess sets normally have 16. And there are extra pieces that look like they could be for a different game. So the set might be a composite. It's possible the owner had a collection of pieces for various games, all buried together. Luna: And they were buried on a beach in the Hebrides. That's so specific. What was Uig like in the 12th century? Lucas: Uig was a small settlement on the west coast of Lewis. Lewis was part of the Kingdom of the Isles, ruled by the Norse-Gaelic dynasty descended from Somerled. So it was a crossroads of trade routes — ships from Norway, Ireland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man would have called there. The chessmen could have been the property of a wealthy merchant, a chieftain, or even a churchman. The area was Christian, but Norse traditions persisted. Luna: So the burial could have been for safekeeping during a time of unrest. Lucas: That's the most common theory. The 12th century was turbulent in the Isles. There were conflicts between rival branches of the dynasty, and between the Norse-Gaels and the Scottish crown. Maybe someone hid their valuables and never returned. The pieces were found under a stone slab, on the beach, which is a strange place — but maybe it was a known landmark. Luna: I also read that there was a legend about a battle nearby, and the pieces were left by a fleeing king. Lucas: There's a local tradition that a king or a chief was defeated in battle and buried his treasure before escaping. But no specific battle can be linked to the site. It's another layer of mystery. Luna: So the Lewis Chessmen are a puzzle in many ways. Where were they made? Why were they buried? What game did they play? Lucas: And they're a mirror of a lost world — the Norse-Gaelic Hebrides, a place where cultures mixed, where walrus ivory from the Arctic was carved into kings and queens, where the game of chess brought distant civilizations together. They remind us that history isn't just about battles and treaties. It's also about art, play, and the everyday objects that carry meaning across centuries. Luna: It's a perfect episode for number 100. A little different, but full of depth. Lucas: Thanks for sticking with us through a hundred episodes. We've got more stories to tell.