A brief history of how Britain got its name, and what it has to do with natural dyes.

In 325 BCE, the Greek geographer Pytheas of Massalia traveled to the furthest reaches of the western Mediterranean, a group of islands now known as the United Kingdom. As he and his men explored the misty isles, they recorded place names and landmarks, and undoubtedly returned home telling tales of wayward barbarians and verdant riches.

Geographers in subsequent centuries widely cited Pytheas in their own cartography, and thus we know that as he marked his map on that expedition, he labeled one of the main islands ‘Pretannike.’ Though later Greek & Latin scholars began replacing the ‘P’ with a ‘B,’ and eventually settled on the more lyrical, ‘Britannia,’ the original spelling was almost certainly derived from the Celtic word ‘Pretani,’ meaning “people of the designs,” (1) or, “the painted people.” (2)

Drawing of Ancient Britons, circa 1547 AD by unknown Dutch artist. Held and digitized by the British Library; Wikimedia Commons, public domain

Historical figures in later centuries provided more color on what might have been behind the name ‘Pretannike.’’ When Julius Caesar finally laid eyes on native Britons in the first century BCE, the practice of skin decoration was common across much of the island nation. In his diaries he wrote, “all the Britons paint themselves with woad which produces a dark blue color, and for this reason they are much more frightful in appearance during battle.”(1) Some 400 years later in the third century CE, the Greek scholar Herodian and Roman writer Solinus each provided accounts suggesting that beginning in childhood, native Britons used needles to mark their skin with animal figures, intending for these totems to grow and stretch along with their maturing bodies. (3,4) Herodian also commented that it was a fear of hiding these tattoos that made the natives forgo clothing.

“The True Picture of a Woman Picte,” a hand-colored engraving of an imagined Pictish woman by Theodor de Bry, 1588; Wikimedia Commons

Throughout the ancient texts, whether discussed as body paint or tattoo ink, one plant is mentioned repeatedly as the source of the fearsome blue that adorned the skin of native Britons: woad.

Veje, *Isatis tinctoria* by botanical artist C.A.M. Lindman, between 1917 and 1926; Wikimedia Commons public domain

Woad, Isatis tinctoria, is a biennial or perennial plant native to Europe and Asia. It boasts an explosion of yellow blossoms and green orate or lanceolate leaves that belie the blue pigment hidden inside. Today, woad is one of the lesser-known members of the Brassicaceae family, its long, storied legacy having been outshined by modern-day culinary cousins like broccoli, cauliflower, and cabbage. However, for thousands of years prior to modern times, anyone living in Europe, Asia, or parts of Africa would have been familiar with woad and its use as a blue dye. Indeed across much of Europe, it was the only accessible source of blue dye from at least the Iron Age until the 17th century when indigo became widely available. (3, 5, 6)

Imagined Pictish man and woman by artist John White in the mid to late 16th century. Wikimedia Co mmons, public domain

Red and yellow dyes are fairly common in nature, but even when combined they only cover the warm end of the spectrum. Blue, on the other hand, is an eccentric color that’s hard to pin down. Aside from the sky on a clear day, natural blues have a sneaky habit of drifting toward green or bleeding into purple. Woad was so remarkable in the ancient world because beneath its leafy green exterior, it delivered humanity a pure, fresh, durable, blue. This addition unlocked a full rainbow of possibilities to the dyer.

Thus, woad was more than just an economic boon to those who grew it, it was elemental to the ability of countless generations to express themselves through color. Bearing this in mind, of course the writers of ancient history like Caesar, Pliny the Elder, and Ovid (3) named woad as the source material for the blue designs donned by native Britons—it was the ‘blue they knew,’ so to speak.

“Habit of a Pict. Ancient Pict,” imagined body art of a Pictish warrior, originally published in 1590 by unknown artist. Wikimedia Commons public domain

Unfortunately, neither the native Britons nor their tattooed Pictish descendants (who ruled northern Britain during much of the first millennium) left behind written texts that might have given us a first-hand account of their skin-decorating techniques. (1, 7) In the absence of definitive written or archaeological evidence, two thousand years of supposition has filled the void. Modern historians are still debating whether it was woad or some other substance that decorated our Celtic ancestors’ bodies and struck fear in the hearts of their opponents.

In Part II of this series, I’ll discuss the olfactorily repellent method the ancients used to coax the indigo pigment from woad, and in Part III (coming soon) we’ll dig deeper into the plausibility of native Britons using woad for their body art. Yes, I, too, will be adding supposition to the pile. Stay tuned!

Sources:

https://www.these-islands.co.uk/publications/i281/why_is_britain_called_britain.aspx
https://www.luckyfish.com/pictish-tattoos
Garton, Christina; “Woad and the invention of Blue,” Piecework Magazine, Mar 27, 2020
Sukenik, N, et al; “Early evidence (late 2nd millennium BCE) of plant-based dyeing of textiles from Timna, Israel,” Plos One Journal, June 28, 2017

The Natural Dye Chronicles: Woad, Part I

The Natural Dye Chronicles: Woad, Part II