Irish monks known as the Papar were almost certainly living in Iceland before Norse settlers arrived in the late 800s. Written sources, archaeological finds, and even genetic evidence all point to a Gaelic Christian presence on the island, possibly dating back to around 795 AD. But the full picture is more complicated than “monks got there first,” and recent excavations have added new layers to the story.
The Papar: Irish Monks in the North Atlantic
Two of Iceland’s most important medieval texts, the Íslendingabók (written around 1125) and the Landnámabók, both mention a group of Irish Christian hermits called the Papar who were already on the island when Norse settlers showed up. These monks reportedly left Iceland because they refused to live alongside pagan Norsemen. The texts describe them as having brought with them Irish books, bells, and staffs, items later found at sites the monks had occupied.
An independent source backs this up. In 825 AD, an Irish monk named Dicuil wrote a geographical treatise describing journeys to a distant northern island called Thule. He reported that Irish hermits had visited the island between February and August of 795, marveling at the perpetual daylight of midsummer, where “there was no darkness to hinder one from doing what one would.” They even sailed north of the island and found the sea ice-free for a day’s journey before reaching a wall of ice. The description matches Iceland’s latitude and conditions precisely.
These monks were not colonizers. They were eremites, religious hermits seeking isolation for prayer and contemplation. The North Atlantic islands, from the Faroes to Iceland, offered the extreme solitude they craved. Their presence was likely small in number and seasonal or semi-permanent rather than a full-scale settlement.
Archaeological Traces of Early Christians
For a long time, the Papar existed mainly in texts. That has started to change. Research led by Dr. Kristján Ahronson has identified roughly 200 man-made caves in southern Iceland containing crosses and sculptures that closely resemble early medieval Christian artifacts from Scotland and Ireland. These carvings support the idea that Christian Gaels from Ireland or the western British Isles were present in Iceland around 800 AD, before the traditional settlement date.
Cross slabs and other Christian artifacts found at various Icelandic sites further reinforce the written accounts. The physical evidence is not massive in volume, which makes sense for a small, scattered population of monks rather than a large community, but it is consistent across multiple locations.
Longhouses That Predate the Official Settlement
Iceland’s traditional founding date is 874 AD, the year Norse settlers supposedly arrived in large numbers. Archaeologists use a remarkably precise natural timestamp to check this: a volcanic eruption deposited a distinct ash layer across the island around 871 AD (plus or minus two years), now called the Landnám or “Settlement Layer.” Structures found beneath this layer are older than the official settlement.
In 2007, archaeologist Bjarni Einarsson discovered ruins of a large longhouse at a site called Stöð, near Stöðvarfjörður in eastern Iceland. Excavations beginning in 2015 revealed two longhouses. The younger one dates to around 874, matching the traditional timeline. But the older structure dates to approximately 800 AD, making it several decades older than the accepted settlement period. This is a Norse-style building, not a monk’s hermitage, suggesting that Scandinavians themselves may have been using Iceland well before permanent colonization began.
Stöð is not an isolated case. Sites at Aðalstræti in downtown Reykjavík and Vogur in Hafnir on the Reykjanes Peninsula also appear to predate 874. Notably, these early sites lack animal bones, which suggests they were seasonal camps rather than year-round farms. People were coming to Iceland, doing something there for part of the year, and leaving.
Seasonal Hunters and Walrus Ivory
One theory for these early Norse sites is that Scandinavians made seasonal voyages to Iceland to hunt walrus for ivory or to catch seabirds. Walrus ivory was extremely valuable in early medieval Europe, and Iceland’s coasts would have been a rich hunting ground. The absence of livestock remains at early sites fits this pattern: these weren’t homesteads but temporary work camps.
Intriguingly, walrus ivory has turned up in Irish archaeological sites dating from before the Norse settlement of Iceland, hinting at trade networks or hunting expeditions that connected the North Atlantic islands earlier than the sagas suggest. Whether it was Irish monks, Norse hunters, or both making these seasonal trips remains an open question, but the evidence points to Iceland being visited regularly long before anyone decided to stay permanently.
What Genetics Reveal About Gaelic Roots
DNA from modern and ancient Icelanders tells a striking story about the island’s founding population. Studies of Y chromosomes (inherited from fathers) show that 20 to 25 percent of Iceland’s founding males had Gaelic ancestry, with the rest being Scandinavian. But the maternal side is dramatically different: mitochondrial DNA, passed from mothers, shows much closer links to populations of the British Isles, indicating that a majority of the founding women had Gaelic heritage.
This pattern matches a historical model where Norse men brought Gaelic women with them, likely as wives, concubines, or enslaved people taken during Viking raids on Ireland and Scotland. The Landnámabók itself hints at this imbalance. Of 220 men listed with genealogical information, only 4.8 percent have documented British Isles ancestry. But among the 48 women mentioned, 16.7 percent are linked to the British Isles, and the genetic data suggests the real proportion was far higher than the written records capture.
This doesn’t prove that Gaelic people lived in Iceland independently before the Vikings. It does confirm that people of Irish and Scottish origin were deeply woven into Iceland’s founding population from the very beginning, even if they arrived alongside or at the direction of Norse settlers.
Roman Coins: A Red Herring
A handful of Roman coins have been found in Iceland, the first discovered by chance in 1905, sparking occasional speculation about even earlier visitors. Early researchers proposed that Romans who strayed north from Britain might have carried them to Iceland. However, more recent analysis points to a simpler explanation: the coins most likely arrived during the Viking Age, brought from Scandinavia as curiosities or trade goods. Similar Roman coins circulated widely across the Norse world as collectible objects long after the Roman Empire fell. They are not evidence of Roman-era habitation.
Why Exact Dates Are Hard to Pin Down
Radiocarbon dating in Iceland faces a unique complication. Early Icelanders ate a lot of fish and marine mammals, and the ocean contains older carbon than the atmosphere. When that older carbon gets incorporated into human bones through diet, it can make remains appear decades older than they actually are. This “marine reservoir effect” off Iceland’s north coast added roughly 110 extra radiocarbon years to bone samples from the Norse period. Geothermal activity, which is widespread in Iceland, can further distort readings by introducing ancient carbon through groundwater into soil and plant material.
These factors mean that some of the most exciting early dates for human presence in Iceland come with built-in uncertainty. Archaeologists now routinely correct for these effects, but the margin of error makes it difficult to say with precision whether a given site dates to 800 or 850. The broad picture is clear: people were in Iceland before 874. The exact timeline of who arrived first, and when, remains fuzzy at the edges.