Æthelbald and Offa: Two Eighth-Century Kings of Mercia. Papers from a Conference held in Manchester in 2000. Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies 9781407320304, 9781841716879

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BAR 383 2005 HILL & WORTHINGTON (Eds) ÆTHELBALD AND OFFA

B A R

Æthelbald and Offa Two Eighth-Century Kings of Mercia Papers from a Conference held in Manchester in 2000 Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies

Edited by

David Hill Margaret Worthington

BAR British Series 383 2005

Æthelbald and Offa Two Eighth-Century Kings of Mercia Papers from a Conference held in Manchester in 2000 Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies

Edited by

David Hill Margaret Worthington

BAR British Series 383 2005

ISBN 9781841716879 paperback ISBN 9781407320304 e-format DOI https://doi.org/10.30861/9781841716879 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

BAR

PUBLISHING

Editor’s Note The Conference, held under the auspices of the Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies at the University of Manchester, was open to all those interested and papers were given by a wide range of scholars including mature students. All those who wished to have their papers published are included in this work. I am grateful to the academics whose work appears here, most particularly to Professor Keynes for his thorough and magisterial article; I must apologise to him and everyone else for the delay in publication, the result of pressure of too many commitments aggravated by family illness. For the Conference, thanks are due to Professor Donald Scragg and the Committee of MANCASS for advice and encouragement; to Janet Wallwork of the John Rylands University Library for help with displays; to Sophie Cabot and Christina Lee for assistance with the bookstalls; and to Margaret Worthington for the smooth running of the whole operation. In the papers the spelling of personal names varies, as contributors take them from their various sources – manuscripts, coins and inscriptions. Modern place-names are almost always used and where such expressions as London burh and London wic have been used, it is in their technical sense. Saxon Southampton has always been substituted for the anomalous Hamwic. Thanks to Mary Syner and Jamie Wood for editorial assistance. John Blair’s contribution, on the relationship between minsters and royal residences in the time of Æthelbald and Offa, is not included here since the substance of it will appear in his forthcoming book, The Church in Anglo-Saxon Society (Oxford University Press, January, 2005).

David Hill

Contributors Marion Archibald, formerly curator of early medieval coins in the Department of Coins and Medals, British Museum. Mark Atherton, Lecturer, Regent’s Park College, Oxford. Derek Chick, coin enthusiast, retired. Dr Anna Gannon, art historian and numismatist, works at the British Museum and the Fitzwilliam Museum, and for the University of Cambridge. Dr Nicholas Higham, F.S.A., is Reader in History in the School for Arts, Histories and Cultures, University of Manchester, and an associate director of the Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies. David Hill, Honorary Research Fellow, Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies, University of Manchester. Simon Keynes, Elrington and Bosworth Professor of Anglo-Saxon, University of Cambridge, and Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Richard Martin, member of Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies. Stephen Matthews is a retired civil servant. Audrey Meaney lives in retirement from academic life near Cambridge. Sheila Sharp has an MA in Anglo-Saxon Studies (1991) from the University of Manchester. Damian Tyler, Ph.D., is a Medieval History Tutor in the Centre for Continuing Education at the University of Manchester. Gareth Williams, Curator at the British Museum; his research covers various aspects of power and authority in the early Middle Ages, including coinage, land assessment and military organisation. Alex Woolf is a Lecturer in Early Scottish History at the University of St Andrews. Margaret Worthington, Director of Porth y waen Study Centre, independent archaeologist. Barbara Yorke is Professor of Early Medieval History at University College, Winchester, and author of Nunneries and the Anglo-Saxon Royal Houses (2003).

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CONTENTS Page 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century Simon Keynes

1-26

Orchestrated Violence and the ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’ Damian J. Tyler

27-34

Onuist son of Uurguist: tyrannus carnifex or a David for the Picts? Alex Woolf

35-42

Æthelbald, Offa and the Patronage of Nunneries Barbara Yorke

43-48

The Lives of the Offas: the Posthumous Reputation of Offa, King of the Mercians Richard Martin

49-54

Legends of Offa: the Journey to Rome Stephen Matthews

55-58

Æthelbert, King and Martyr: the Development of a Legend Sheila Sharp

59-64

Mentions of Offa in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Beowulf and Widsith Mark Atherton

65-74

Felix’s Life of Guthlac: History or Hagiography? Audrey Meaney

75-84

Guthlac’s Vita, Mercia and East Anglia in the first half of the Eighth Century N. J. Higham

85-90

Offa’s Dyke Margaret Worthington

91-96

The Eighth-century Urban Landscape David Hill

97-102

Military Obligations and Mercian Supremacy in the Eighth Century Gareth Williams

103-110

The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries Derek Chick

111-122

Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context Marion M. Archibald

123-132

Riches in Heaven and on Earth: Some Thoughts on the Iconography of Coinage at the time of Æthelbald Anna Gannon

133-138

iii

Page

FIGURES AND MAPS The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century

1

OFFA SETTING OUT ON EXPEDITION (by permission of The Board of Trinity College Dublin), from Trinity College Dublin MS 177, fol. 55v.

4

2

OFFA’S VICTORY (by permission of The Board of Trinity College Dublin), from Trinity College Dublin MS 177, fol. 56r.

5

SOUTHERN ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTH CENTURY (drawn by Reginald Piggott).

9

3

Offa’s Dyke 1

OFFA’S DYKE.

92

The Eighth-century Urban Landscape DATE RANGE OF EARLY MEDIEVAL SETTLEMENTS IN NORTHERN EUROPE.

98

2

COMPARATIVE AREAS OF ALL KNOWN AND DEFINED WICS.

99

3

GRAPHS SHOWING THE NUMBER OF EUROPEAN TOWNS AD 400-1000.

101

1

The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries SINGLE FINDS KNOWN AT THE TIME OF C. BLUNT’S PAPER, ‘THE COINAGE OF OFFA’, IN 1961.

113

2

SINGLE FINDS KNOWN AT END 1999.

114

3

DENSITY OF ALL SINGLE FINDS.

115

4

DISTRIBUTION PATTERNS – COINS STRUCK AT LONDON.

116

5

DISTRIBUTION PATTERNS – COINS STRUCK AT CANTERBURY.

117

6

DISTRIBUTIONS PATTERNS – COINS STRUCK IN EAST ANGLIA.

118

1

Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context 1

FINDSPOTS INDICATING COINS OF WERFERTH AND EFE.

126

2

FINDSPOTS INDICATING COINS OF WILRED AND INTERLACE TYPE.

126

Riches in Heaven and on Earth: Some Thoughts on the Iconography of Coinage at the time of Æthelbald 1

Series K, Type 32a, obv.

134

2

Series K, Type 20, obv.

134

iv

3

Series K, Type 42, obv.

134

4

Series K, Type 42, obv.

134

5

‘Animal Mask type; rev.

134

6

‘CARIP’ Group, obv.

134

7-8

‘Archer Group’, obv. and rev.

134

PLATE Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context 1

COINS OF BEONNA AND ÆTHELBERHT

127

v

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century Simon Keynes

In a play published in 1868 but possibly never performed, if indeed ever read, a certain Henry J. Verlander, late of St John’s College, Cambridge, entered boldly into the spirit of the Mercian supremacy. Offa, King of Mercia, a Tragedy, is set in Offa’s palace at Hereford. At an early stage in the drama, our hero meets ambassadors from Charlemagne (who have come to fetch Alcuin, whose help was needed for the Carolingian Renaissance). He apprises the assembled company of his plan to associate his son Egfrid with him on the throne, and looks forward to Egfrid’s coronation. He receives a friendly letter from Ethelbert, king of East Anglia, and begins to dream of world domination. First East Anglia, then Essex, Kent, and ‘feeble Sussex’. “What title’s next?”, he exclaims; ‘King of all England! God, I thank Thee!” Offa, his wicked queen Quendrida, and Egfrid, start plotting how to realise their ambitions. It turns out that King Ethelbert has taken a fancy to Elfrida (Offa’s daughter), so when the opportunity arises Ethelbert is despatched through a trap-door, and his kingdom is in the bag; with two other daughters, they ought to be able to ensnare Wessex and Northumbria, in much the same way. At the climactic moment (in Act V, Scene III), Offa has a vision of a ‘majestic monarch’ with his feet on seven crowns, and the word WESSEX glowing ‘in shining letters’ over his head; and as if that were not bad enough, he then encounters the ghost of Ethelbert, who apprises him of his fate. In the final scene, Egfrid is knocked senseless by the ghost; Quendrida is taken off to spend the rest of her days in a convent; and Offa, abandoning his worldly ambitions, resolves instead to go to Rome.1 Great theatre, perhaps; but was it good history?

more than sketch the outlines of the subject, and, I hope, to suggest where it leads.2 The supremacy of the Mercian kings was an aspect of English history from the mid-seventh to the mid-ninth century, but for immediate purposes it must suffice to focus attention on the two overlords who between them span the greater part of the eighth century: Æthelbald (716–57) and Offa (757–96). As we all know, there is nothing from Mercia to set beside Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, for Kent and Northumbria, and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, for Wessex; so historians interested in this period have always been at a considerable disadvantage. It is impossible to construct a coherent narrative of the period, or to understand how one event might be related to another; and we are forced instead to form an impression from scraps of evidence which may or may not be representative of the truth. It would be interesting to know what anyone in the tenth century made of the earlier Mercian kings, though it is clear that Offa, in particular, was held in some renown: King Alfred had made use of Offa’s laws in formulating his own legislation; tenth-century churchmen found something to be gained from fabricating charters in Offa’s name; the chronicler Æthelweard was moved to describe him as ‘an extraordinary man’; and a sword which had belonged to King Offa became a treasured heirloom in the West Saxon royal family.3 Yet what counted most in the early development of Offa’s reputation was his involvement in the death of Æthelberht, king of the East Angles. The chronicler had recorded the bare fact, under 794, that Offa, king of the Mercians, had ordered King Æthelberht to be beheaded (‘Her Offa Miercna cyning het Eþelbryhte rex þæt heafod ofaslean’); and since the cult of Æthelberht was already established at Hereford in the tenth and eleventh centuries,4 one imagines that tales of the circumstances of his death were told there during the same period. The basic story is to be found in the earliest ‘Life’ of St Æthelberht, presumed to have been composed at Hereford in the early twelfth century, and it comes as no surprise that it should be sympathetic to the victim: stressing Æthelberht’s innocence in seeking the hand of Offa’s daughter Ælfthryth, the wickedness of Queen Cynethryth (Kynedrytha), and Offa’s show of remorse.5 In some form or other the legend reached the Anglo-Norman historians active in the first half of the twelfth century, and affected their portrayal of the Mercian king. The chronicle attributed to Florence and John of

The ‘Mercian Supremacy’ is (to my mind) one of those subjects in which it is essential to know how representation or understanding of it has developed over a long period of time. It is obviously important to know how it was perceived by contemporaries, and by any other persons active before the Norman Conquest. But it is no less instructive to establish how historians and others writing in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries rationalised or made sense of it, and how they were able to determine the historical tradition transmitted to modern times; since in this way we see how received tradition has influenced our own presumptions and preconceptions. Only then are we in a position to release ourselves from the accumulated weight of tradition, and from all that it entails, and better able to work matters out afresh, as if from first principles. The exercise is worth the effort, because the subject touches upon many of the fundamental issues of early English history, and most obviously upon stages in the complex process whereby a multiplicity of kingdoms, and peoples, was reduced or homogenized into notional unity. I make no attempt, however, to do anything

2

The text which follows is in some respects a revised, expanded and annotated form of Keynes, ‘Changing Faces: Offa King of Mercia’. 3 The sword was bequeathed by the ætheling Æthelstan (d. 1014), eldest son of King Æthelred the Unready, to his brother Edmund (Ironside). See S 1503 (EHD no. 129). For ruminations on the theme, see Keynes, ‘King Alfred and the Mercians’, p. 1. 4 Keynes, ‘Diocese and Cathedral Before 1056’, pp. 9–10. For the evidence of surviving tenth- and eleventh-century calendars, displayed in tabular form, see Rushforth, Atlas of Saints in Anglo-Saxon Calendars. 5 For the (Hereford) Passio S. Æthelberhti regis et martyris, preserved in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 308, see James, ‘Two Lives of St Ethelbert, King and Martyr’, pp. 236–44 (text), and Brooks, E.C., The Life of Saint Ethelbert King and Martyr, pp. 28–38 (translation).

1 Verlander, William of Normandy, and Henry the Second, Two Historical Plays; and Offa, King of Mercia, a Tragedy, pp. 295–379.

1

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century Worcester retains the annalistic framework of the AngloSaxon Chronicle, but incorporates additional material derived from oral and written sources.6 The annal for 793 [sic] is a case in point, reflecting awareness of the legend of Æthelberht in a form which was evidently unfavourable to William of Malmesbury Offa and Cynethryth.7 distinguishes himself for his tendency to make effective use of documentary records and other written sources. For Æthelbald, he was fortunate to have access to an eighthcentury manuscript containing copies of Boniface’s letters to King Æthelbald and Archbishop Cuthberht, the proceedings of the Council of Clofesho in 747, and King Æthelbald’s charter of 749.8 For Offa, he made effective use of correspondence bearing on the circumstances which had led to the creation of the archbishopric of Lichfield, and on Offa’s dealings with Charlemagne.9 Yet he was also aware of the beheading of Æthelberht,10 and of Offa’s appropriation of land from religious houses (including Malmesbury),11 and found himself unable, therefore, to make sense of all the contradictory indications. Henry of Huntingdon, on the other hand, seems to have had little additional material, but displays a commendable tendency to draw his own conclusions from the record of events in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Interestingly, he went some way further than William in extolling the great extent of Offa’s power. For example, Henry refers in general to the fact that Offa defeated the men of Kent, Wessex and Northumbria in battle,12 allowing his readers to infer that the peoples had fallen under Mercian sway. When he read in the Chronicle, for 776, that ‘the Mercians and the people of Kent fought at Otford’, he assumed not unreasonably that the reference was to a great Mercian victory.13 And when he read in the Chronicle, for 787, that Offa had his son Ecgfrith consecrated king, he inferred that Ecgfrith had in fact been consecrated king of Kent.14 Henry was aware, like William, that Offa had ordered the beheading of St Æthelberht;15 but he was ready none the less to call him ‘great’.16

instrumental in founding and endowing the abbey; so he features in this capacity in the ‘Guthlac Roll’, in a spectacular forged charter, and in Pseudo-Ingulf’s History of the abbey — none of which did his reputation any harm.17 The role of Offa in the foundation and endowment of St Albans is mentioned in some of the pre-Conquest charters in favour of the abbey, and was also known to William of Malmesbury and Henry of Huntingdon.18 The story was developed locally, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, in connection with the abbey’s natural desire to provide itself But it was Offa’s with appropriate documentation.19 particular good fortune that the monks of St Albans were proud of their historical identity, and it was there that he achieved his apotheosis. Roger of Wendover, writing at St Albans in the 1220s (or thereabouts), described Offa as one who overcame in battle all the kings of England (Kent, Wessex, Northumbria, Sussex, and East Anglia), and thereby ‘not a little enlarged the kingdom of the Mercians’.20 Yet in specifying the area over which Offa reigned, Roger restricted himself to a list of twenty-three shires, all of which are between the Thames and the Humber. Roger’s main concern was not, however, to advertise the extent of Offa’s rule, but to whitewash the character of the abbey’s founder. He provides an account of the death of Æthelberht, king of the East Angles, absolving Offa from all guilt and laying blame squarely on his wicked queen ‘Quendrida’.21 He describes how Offa was moved by a vision to build and endow the abbey of St Albans. He tells a story of Offa’s journey to Rome to secure special privileges for the abbey, leading to his institution of the tax known as Peter’s Pence (from which, of course, only St Albans was exempt).22 And he describes Offa’s burial near Bedford, in a chapel which subsequently fell into the river Ouse. The process was taken further by Matthew Paris, writing at St Albans in the 1240s (or thereabouts), in his Chronica Majora, his Historia Anglorum, his ‘Lives of the Abbots’, his tract on St Alban, and of course in his ‘Lives of the Two Offas’.23 We will doubtless hear a lot more of this material, and about the

Æthelbald and Offa also owed much to the fact that both were involved in the foundation of religious houses, where they came to be celebrated as local heroes. Æthelbald was remembered at Crowland as a king who had been

17 King Æthelbald’s charter for Crowland (S 82) still existed in its ‘original’ single-sheet form in the early eighteenth century, when it attracted much attention. It was ‘inspected’, together with the charter of King Eadred for Crowland (S 538), by Richard II in 1393. The ‘original’ of this Inspeximus charter is Oxford, Bodleian Library, Ashmole 1831 (S.C. 25204), on which see Pächt and Alexander, Illuminated Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library, III, no. 671. 18 WM, GR i.87.1 (ed. Mynors et al., p. 122); HH, HA iv.21 (ed. Greenway, p. 246) and ix.2 (ibid., p. 624). 19 Keynes, ‘Lost Cartulary of St Albans’, pp. 259–60, and Charters of St Albans Abbey, ed. Crick. 20 RW, FH; also edited in MP, CM. RW (in MP, CM i.346) states that in 771 Offa conquered the East Angles (‘Est-Anglorum gentem armis subegit’). He evidently derived this from the annal for 771 in the Historia Regum, attributed to Simeon of Durham: ‘His diebus Offa rex Merciorum Hestingorum gentem armis subegerat’. 21 ‘Quendrida’ is a Latinate form of the name Cwoenthryth, as opposed to Cynethryth, suggesting that there was some confusion at St Albans with Cwoenthryth, daughter of King Coenwulf, who murdered her brother St Kenelm. 22 Offa’s dealings with the papacy are well attested, but the notion that he visited Rome in person, and made a direct request to Pope Hadrian I (772– 95) for the canonisation of St Alban and permission to found a monastery in his honour, is probably no more than the product of a wishful thought. 23 On the various works of Matthew Paris, see Vaughan, Matthew Paris. The Vitae Duorum Offarum is preserved in BL Cotton Nero D. i, fols. 2–25, and is printed in Vitæ Duorum Offarum sive Offanorum, ed. Wats, pp. 961–88. For the ‘Lives of the Two Offas’, see Rickert, ‘The Old English Offa Saga’; see also Garmonsway and Simpson, Beowulf and its Analogues, pp. 222–37.

6

The work in its transmitted form is quite properly attributed to the monk John; but the question remains whether the monk Florence (d. 1118) should be given his due in connection with the compilation of an underlying work, extending to a point in the late eleventh or early twelfth century. See entries on Florence of Worcester, Hemming and John of Worcester in Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 188, 231–2 and 262–3. 7 JW, Chron., s.a. 793 (ed. Darlington and McGurk, p. 224). 8 WM, GR i.79–84 (ed. Mynors et al., pp. 112–20). See Keynes, ‘Cotton MS. Otho A. I’, pp. 117–19, and Thomson, General Introduction and Commentary, pp. 62–3. 9 In addition to a collection of Alcuin’s correspondence, William also had access to correspondence between King Coenwulf and Pope Leo, not preserved elsewhere; see WM, GR i.87–94 (ed. Mynors et al., pp. 122–38). For the possibility that William used a dossier on the archbishopric of Lichfield, see Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, p. 116, n. 78. 10 WM, GR i.86 (ed. Mynors et al., p. 122) and ii.210 (ibid., p. 390). 11 WM, GR i.87 (ed. Mynors et al., p. 122). 12 HH, HA iv.21 (ed. Greenway, p. 246). 13 HH, HA iv.23 (ibid., p. 250). 14 HH, HA iv.25 (ibid., p. 254). 15 HH, HA iv.26 (ibid., p. 256). 16 HH, HA iv.27 (ibid., p. 258).

2

Simon Keynes circumstances in which it was produced.24 Offa’s foundation of St Albans is represented as the fulfilment of a vow made by his earlier namesake; and all manner of details are added, a few of which (such as Offa’s campaign against ‘Marmodius’, probably Maredudd of Dyfed) may even verge on the historical. Matthew also composed a shorter account of Offa, a copy of which he caused to be entered into his miscellany of material on St Alban, where it is accompanied by a series of magnificent illustrations (with explanatory rubrics in French) depicting various aspects of Offa’s story (Figures 1 and 2).25

Stenton.32 For while Stenton seems not to mention King Offa’s interest in St Albans (or even to include St Albans on his map of the Mercian kingdom),33 he was obviously well aware of the legend, and sought to give it substance by setting it on more secure foundations. The brilliance of Stenton’s work in this respect was that he re-invented the Mercian supremacy in his own distinctive way, according to his own lights, and for his own grander purposes. In the famous paper published in 1918, Stenton deployed the evidence of royal styles in charters to illustrate the spread of Mercian rule throughout England, fastening initially on Æthelbald’s styles in the Ismere charter of 736,34 but attaching particular significance to those charters in which Offa is styled rex Anglorum or (and especially) rex totius Anglorum patriae. Drawing confidence, no doubt, from the Ismere charter itself, Stenton expressed his conviction that three of the charters in which Offa was accorded grandiose styles are extant in their original form. Offa ‘was the first of English kings to claim by the style “rex Anglorum” dominion over all peoples of English race within Britain’; and ‘it is a happy accident that the style “rex Anglorum” is applied to Offa in charters which are extant in contemporary writing, of whose authenticity there can be no question’.35 Of course Stenton’s use of royal styles begged many questions. Do these styles represent genuinely contemporary usage? If so, are they representative of normal contemporary usage? In either case, are they claims made or sanctioned by the king, or are they claims entertained on the king’s behalf by another party? We may perhaps accept that the style rex Anglorum could be applied not unnaturally to a Mercian king, in his capacity as king of a confederacy of various Anglian peoples;36 but it remains far from clear that the style was employed, in the eighth century, as inclusive of all the ‘English’ peoples (in a Gregorian or Bedan sense), as seems to be required by the style rex totius Anglorum patriae. Be that as it may,37 Stenton’s paper made its impact because his deployment of the diplomatic evidence was in every respect so compelling. He was able to show from charters that Offa had controlled Kent before the battle of Otford in 776, giving rise to his suggestion that the battle, far from being a Mercian victory, in fact represented an attempt by the

One should stress that for all the adulation heaped on Offa by Roger and Matthew, it was no part of their agenda to represent him as a unifying principle of early English history.26 He was, as can be seen from one of Matthew Paris’s drawings (Figure 1), almost emphatically just a ‘king of the Mercians’. Historians were, however, as interested then as we are now in the over-arching processes of political development, and had views of their own on the subject. Both William of Malmesbury and Henry of Huntingdon had accorded honour as first king of all the English to Ecgberht of Wessex.27 But perhaps Ecgberht came a bit close to the Mercian bone; so it may be significant that the view propounded at St Albans shifted the emphasis forwards from the 820s to the events which took place at London in 886, and thereby helped give the edge to Alfred the Great.28 The Mercian overlords were left in the doldrums, and made little distinctive impression thereafter. In eighteenth-century historical writing (for example, Rapin and Hume), they were all but eclipsed by Ecgberht and Alfred; and in late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century historical painting, they were simply non-starters. Leaving aside a curious prize essay written in 1836, and published in 1840, in which Offa is given a mighty puff,29 not to mention the play with which we began (1868), it is as if the Mercian overlords were still waiting for a historian minded to accommodate them in the unwinding of the complex fates of nations, and prepared to come to grips in this process with the evidence of correspondence, charters, and coins. The modern perception of Æthelbald and Offa is thus owed largely to the work of Sir Frank Stenton, expounded first in a seminal paper published in 1918,30 and refined thereafter in his Anglo-Saxon England, published in 1943.31 It is important to emphasise, however, that the Mercian supremacy was not ‘established’ or ‘discovered’ by

32

Cf. Wormald, ‘Viking Studies: Whence and Whither?’, p. 141, and idem, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, p. 119. 33 Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 201. 34 S 89 (EHD, no. 67), on which see further below, n.59. 35 Stenton, ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’, pp. 60–4. The principal charters in question are S 110 and 111, dated 774 and preserved in the archive of Christ Church, Canterbury; the third is S 132, also described by Stenton as ‘preserved in contemporary writing’, from the same archive. Stenton’s judgement may have been affected by references in the standard corpus of charters to ‘Original Charter in British Museum’ (Cartularium Saxonicum, ed. Birch, I, 300–3 (nos. 213–14) and 369–71 (no. 265)). 36 In Felix’s Vita S. Guthlaci, ch. 1 (ed. Colgrave, p. 72), Æthelred, king of the Mercians (674–704), is styled ‘rex Anglorum’. Two charters which concern Offa’s activities in Sussex employ the style rex Anglorum, but it is not clear what this might signify, or whether they represent contemporary usage; see S 1178 (Charters of Selsey, ed. Kelly, no. 13, with discussion, p. 57) and S 108 (ibid., App. 2, pp. 107–8). 37 One should emphasise in passing (a) that royal styles in charters do not at this stage necessarily represent claims made by the king, let alone necessarily reflect political reality; and (b) that the application of the style ‘rex Anglorum’ to a Mercian, Northumbrian or East Anglian king is not necessarily as significant as might be its application to a West Saxon king. It is significant, none the less, that Offa was deemed in the tenth and eleventh centuries to be a king to whom the style ‘rex Anglorum’ might reasonably be applied.

24 See below, in this volume, Martin, ‘The Lives of the Offas’ and Matthews, ‘Legends of Offa’. 25 For the manuscript in question (Dublin, Trinity College, MS. 177), and a description of the illustrations, see Morgan, Early Gothic Manuscripts [I], pp. 130–3 (no. 85); for a published facsimile, see Lowe and Jacob, Illustrations to the Life of St. Alban. See also Lewis, Art of Matthew Paris, pp. 380–7. 26 Roger and Matthew might be set apart, in this respect, from the anonymous monk responsible for another chronicle compiled at St Albans in the 1220s: see ‘Chronicle Attributed to John of Wallingford’, ed. Vaughan, pp. xiii and 11–12. 27 WM, GR ii.106–7 (ed. Mynors et al., pp. 152–6); HH, HA iv.30 (ed. Greenway, p. 264). 28 Keynes, ‘Cult of King Alfred the Great’, pp. 230–2. 29 Mackenzie, Essay on the Life and Institutions of Offa, King of Mercia, dedicated to Joseph Bosworth. 30 Stenton, ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’. 31 Stenton, ‘The Ascendancy of the Mercian Kings’, in his Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 202–38.

3

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century

Figure 1: OFFA SETTING OUT ON EXPEDITION (by permission of The Board of Trinity College Dublin), from Trinity College Dublin MS 177, fol. 55v 4

Simon Keynes

Figure 2 . OFFA’S VICTORY (by permission of The Board of Trinity College Dublin), from Trinity College Dublin MS 177, fol. 56r.

5

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century Kentishmen to throw off the Mercian yoke.38 And because Coenwulf was just ‘king of the Mercians’, the evidence of charter styles ‘suggests with much force that the Mercian overlordship ended with the death of Offa’.39

consciously proclaiming his royal dignity against the upstart Carolingians.43 Stenton’s fully articulated view of the Mercian Supremacy is infinitely more subtle and sophisticated than the tales told by Roger of Wendover and Matthew Paris; but perhaps the glorification of Offa is taken too far. For (as we all know) there is a catch. The supposedly ‘original’ charters on which so much depended would not now fool anyone who cared to examine them and to compare their script with others from the second half of the eighth century.44 They were marked as tenth-century, on the authority of Neil Ker, in Peter Sawyer’s catalogue of Anglo-Saxon charters, published in 1968, and they were quite properly dismissed by Sawyer in his account of Anglo-Saxon England first published ten years later.45 It is far more than a quibble; for remove the charters from the foundation level, and the whole glorious edifice comes tumbling down. The point has been absorbed by most commentators since then;46 and we pay heed instead to the fact that in Offa’s demonstrably ‘original’ charters, in the 780s and 790s, and in his (post-792) ‘heavy’ coinage, Offa is just ‘king of the Mercians’.47 In fact the point was made over 750 years ago, by none other than Matthew Paris: ‘Nor can I fail to mention that King Offa was a man of such great humility and modesty that although he ruled and held sway over so many and such great kingdoms, and was master of their lords and rulers, he never wished to be addressed, or to be styled in his letters or charters, by any title other than “King of the Mercians”. For only that kingdom belonged to him by right of blood; he acquired the other kingdoms violently, by the sword, although they were his by right.’48 Matthew’s remark was presumably based on his knowledge of documents found in the archives of his own abbey: he was evidently surprised by what he found, but whether the usage was indeed evidence of Offa’s humility is rather less than clear. The fact remains: Offa was ‘king of the Mercians’ at the end of his reign, as he was at its beginning.

In the late 1920s Stenton responded positively to the suggestion that he should write a volume on the AngloSaxon period for the Oxford History of England, and explained his vision in a letter written in 1929: In particular, I should like to express with the necessary detail, illustrations, and qualifications the view to which I have gradually come as to the general course of Anglo-Saxon history – namely, that England was brought within measureable distance of unity by the end of the 8th century, owing to the overlordship of the great Mercian kings, and that this unity was postponed by the introduction of a new race into England by the Danish settlement. In other words I don’t think that any general history of England even begins to do justice as yet to the work of the great overlords of the Southern English or to the persistence with which the Danes retained their own organisation and social life.40 In the book itself, first published in 1943, Stenton placed emphasis on Offa’s relations with his dependent peoples (illustrated by analysis of the transactions which charters record), and on the significance of Offa’s activities in a wider context. It is Stenton at his best, redefining the parameters of the subject, weaving things together, and creating something where nothing had been suspected. Yet the point which must be stressed is that much of his exposition followed directly from his conviction, expressed in 1918, that Offa’s claim to be ‘king of the English’, or ‘king of the whole country of the English’, rested on the impeccable authority of original documents. Stenton’s treatment of Offa’s relations with the kings of Wessex and Northumbria, and his presentation of Offa’s dealings with other parties, such as the archbishop of Canterbury, Charlemagne, and the pope, depended substantially on a conception of Offa as a ‘statesman’, whose ‘supremacy throughout England was unchallenged’. The conception of a kingdom of all England had arrived.41 Other aspects of Offa’s rule were interpreted in a manner which seemed to intensify the glow: in building his dyke, Offa is said to have ‘grasped the idea of a negotiated frontier’; in seeking to control all available sources of wealth, Offa is said to have ‘understood that it was the duty of a king to encourage foreign trade’; the system of political control which he established is held to mark ‘the first advance ever made on a great scale towards the political unity of England’; and so on. A few years later, in 1955, Stenton developed his views on Offa’s Dyke, as a ‘great public undertaking’ which presupposed ‘unchallengeable supremacy in the south’.42 And in 1958, Stenton refined and extended the numismatic dimensions of his argument, suggesting that Offa was

It is a tribute to the massive authority of Stenton’s book that the notion of Offa as ‘King of the English’, and all that it signifies, has proved surprisingly resilient. That is to say, there has been a certain reluctance, in parting with the royal styles, to part with the grandiose notions of Offa’s rule which Stenton had built upon them. It is not, of course, that there 43 Stenton, ‘Anglo-Saxon Coinage and the Historian’, pp. 378–82; cf. idem, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 222–4. 44 For details of published facsimiles of Anglo-Saxon charters on single sheets, see Facsimiles of Anglo-Saxon Charters, ed. Keynes, and the material accessible via the website of the British Academy / Royal Historical Society Joint Committee on Anglo-Saxon Charters: the address is . 45 Sawyer, From Roman Britain to Norman England, p. 101. 46 Wormald, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas, and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, pp. 110–111, and ‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p.111; see also Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, p. 114, and Kirby, Earliest English Kings, p.174. Cf. Wallace-Hadrill, ‘Charlemagne and England’, p.156; John, Orbis Britanniae, p.26; Wallace-Hadrill, Early Germanic Kingship, p. 111; Wood, In Search of the Dark Ages, p.102; and Yorke, ‘Vocabulary of Anglo-Saxon Overlordship’, pp. 181–2 and 186–9. The most recent summary of the evidence reverts to Stenton’s position: see James, Britain in the First Millennium, pp. 190–1. 47 For the charters, see below, pp.10–11; for the coinage, see below, in this volume, Chick, ‘The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries’. 48 Matthew Paris, Vitae Duorum Offarum, in BL Cotton Nero D. i, fol. 24r (ed. Wats, p. 987); see also fol. 16v (ed. Wats, p. 976).

38

Stenton, ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’, pp. 62 and 63. Stenton, ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’, p. 64. FMS to G. N. Clark, 2 Nov. 1929, from the OUP archives (cited here from a photocopy kindly supplied by Professor Donald Matthew). For the context, see Matthew, ‘Making of Anglo-Saxon England’. 41 Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 35–6 and 211–12. 42 Stenton, ‘Foreword to Sir Cyril Fox’s “Offa’s Dyke”’, pp. 357 and 359. 39 40

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Simon Keynes has been any lack of ground-breaking work in the field. The last occasion on which Anglo-Saxonists gathered to contemplate the kingdom of the Mercians, in its own right and for its own sake, was the conference held at the University of Leicester in December 1975. The contents of the volume which emerged from that conference show how far matters had by then advanced since the 1950s.49 And since then, the subject has advanced still further. One thinks immediately of the outstanding contributions by Patrick Wormald to the illustrated survey of Anglo-Saxon England edited by James Campbell;50 the volume on the origins of Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, edited by Steve Bassett,51 including a perceptive essay by Nicholas Brooks on the origins of Mercia;52 the wide-ranging and comparative surveys of early Anglo-Saxon dynasties and kingdoms, by Barbara Yorke and David Kirby;53 and the regional studies of different parts of the extended Mercian realm, by several others.54 And that is to say nothing of more detailed work on subjects which are central to our perception of the Mercian world: on charters, coinage, and church councils, on the aristocracy, the cults of saints and book-production, on minsters, palaces, towns and fortifications, and so on. Yet one thing that remains so fascinating about the Mercian Supremacy (and the attitude which students so often display towards it) is the way we seem predisposed to interpret the evidence in favour of it, as if great overlords are wonderful, and big government is a desirable end in itself. The Mercian Supremacy is, and always has been, an artificial construct. It has been a dominating feature in the historiographical landscape for some time; but it seems to me that the edifice might usefully be taken apart, the separate pieces re-examined in their own contexts, and a new structure set up in its place.

Humber, together with their various kings, are subject (subiectae sunt) to Æthelbald, king of the Mercians’.56 This is a fairly unambiguous statement, made by one in a position to know, and it must command our respect. Bede’s History of the English people thus took shape in the shadow of the Mercian supremacy; and one does wonder whether Bede was prompted to regard all that he surveyed as quintessentially ‘Anglian’, as much by his sense of political developments south of the Humber as by the delusions of Pope Gregory the Great and the aspirations of his Canterbury informants. Be that as it may, the question arises whether the supremacy of Æthelbald took the same form wherever it applied, and to what extent any attempt was made to create a panSouthumbrian superstate. The impression that I get, for what it may be worth, is of a king, secure in Mercia but eager to enlarge his horizons, driving his way down Watling Street in order to take control of the great emporium of London, and using his power there to make friends and influence people, especially in the fleshpots of Kent. Æthelbald tends to suffer from being regarded as the one who prepared the ground for Offa, and perhaps deserves greater recognition in his own right. It would have been in his reign that Elise ‘annexed the inheritance of Powys … throughout nine (years?) from the power of the English (e potestate Anglorum)’, according to the famous ninth-century inscription on ‘Eliseg’s Pillar’, near Llangollen;57 but Wat’s Dyke (marked on the map, Figure 3), if correctly regarded as the work of King Æthelbald, looks like a fairly uncompromising response.58 There were many other respects in which Æthelbald set the example. In 736, the draftsman of the Ismere charter called Æthelbald ‘king not only of the Mercians, but also of all the prouinciae which are called by the general name South English’, extended in the witness-list to ‘king of Britain’ (rex Britanniae), and represented in a contemporary endorsement as ‘king of the South English’ (rex Suutanglorum); but this was the view from Worcester, and takes us into the realms of sycophantic hyperbole and political fantasy.59 The small group of eighthcentury toll charters (so effectively studied by Susan Kelly) is obviously of fundamental importance, since they reflect the value to Æthelbald of his rights over trade in London, demonstrate his pursuit of an economic strategy for political ends, and indicate the vital importance of London to the Mercian regime.60 It would be surprising, under these circumstances, if Æthelbald did not at the same time assert his control over the coinage, even if not quite to the extent of insisting that coins should bear his name.61 But how far can

Æthelbald, king of the Mercians (716–57) Æthelbald and Offa take their place in the succession of Mercian overlords from the mid-seventh to the early ninth century, but few would doubt that it was the two eighthcentury rulers who made the greatest impression on contemporaries and posterity alike.55 It was Bede, from his vantage point at Jarrow, in 731, who in surveying the bishops in the kingdoms south of the Humber so famously remarked that ‘All these kingdoms (prouinciae) and the other southern kingdoms up to the boundary (confinium) of the River 49

Mercian Studies, ed. Dornier. Wormald, ‘The Age of Bede and Aethelbald’, ‘The Age of Offa and Alcuin’, and ‘The Ninth Century’. 51 Origins of Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms, ed. Bassett. 52 Brooks, N., ‘The Formation of the Mercian Kingdom’. 53 Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, pp. 100–27; Kirby, Earliest English Kings, pp. 163–84. 54 Stafford, East Midlands, pp. 102–8 (‘Mercia in the Eighth and Ninth Centuries’); Gelling, West Midlands, pp. 79–85 (‘The Mercian Hegemony’) and 101–24 (‘The Eighth Century: the Building of the Dyke’); Blair, Early Medieval Surrey, pp. 8, 20, 95; Blair, Anglo-Saxon Oxfordshire, esp. pp. 42– 92 (‘A Mercian Frontier Province’); Pre-Viking Lindsey, ed. Vince, passim; Sawyer, Anglo-Saxon Lincolnshire, pp. 75–88 (‘The Mercian Empire’). For the Hwicce and the Magonsæte, see Sims-Williams, Religion and Learning in Western England. 55 For a brief account of the kingdom, see S. Keynes, ‘Mercia’, Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 306–8, with pp. 505–8; see also ibid., pp. 289 (Lindsey) and 312 (Middle Angles). For sketches of the successive Mercian overlords, with further references, see ibid., pp.361–2 (Penda), 490–1 (Wulfhere), 11–13 (Æthelbald), 340–1 (Offa), and 111–13 (Coenwulf); see also ibid., pp. 133 (Queen Cynethryth) and 257–8 (Archbishop Jænberht). For a recent survey of the history of the kingdom of the Mercians, see Walker, Mercia and the Making of England. 50

56

Bede, HE V.23 (ed. Colgrave and Mynors, p. 558). Nash-Williams, Early Christian Monuments of Wales, pp. 123–5 (no. 182); Davies, Wales in the Early Middle Ages, p. 110. 58 Stenton, ‘Foreword to “Offa’s Dyke”’, pp. 359–62; M. Worthington, in Encyclopaedia of ASE, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 341–2. The name ‘Wat’s Dyke’ is generally supposed to relate to a heroic figure from the Germanic past called Wade: see Fox, Offa’s Dyke, pp. 288–9. It sadly has no connection, therefore, with ‘Watling Street’, which derives from the ancient name Wæclingacæstir (‘the fort of Wæcel’s people’), later St Albans. 59 S 89 (EHD, no. 67). For further discussion, see Stenton, ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’, pp. 53–6; Wormald, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas, and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, pp. 106–7; and Keynes, ‘England, 700– 900’, pp. 28–30. 60 Kelly, ‘Trading Privileges from Eighth-Century England’. 61 Exactly how this assertion of royal power might have manifested itself in the ‘sceatta’ coinage, in the first half of the eighth century, is another matter. It is most authoritatively supposed that the coinage was ‘royal’ (e.g. Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas in the Ashmolean Museum Oxford, I, pp. 10–25, and 57

7

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century we press matters further? Æthelbald’s relationship with Wessex is best characterised as complex.62 He was certainly active in Somerset in the 730s, and other interests in that area are attested by charters formerly preserved in the archives of Glastonbury Abbey;63 but interests across the border in Somerset do not amount to the subjection of Wessex, and other indications suggest that Cuthred, king of the West Saxons (740–56), maintained his independence or put up steady resistance. It is striking that in 757 Æthelbald, styled ‘king not only of the Mercians but also of the peoples round about’, granted land at Tockenham, in Wiltshire (Figure 3), to an Abbot Eanberht, and that the charter was attested by Cynewulf, king of the West Saxons (757–86); but again, the evidence can be interpreted in various ways, and need not signify the subjection of Wessex to Mercia.64 The nature of Æthelbald’s relationship with East Anglia is no less intriguing. Felix produced his ‘Life’ of St Guthlac at the request of Ælfwald, king of the East Angles (713–49), probably in the 730s;65 as Colgrave remarked, the ‘Life’ may in its respect for Æthelbald and Ælfwald reflect the existence of harmonious relations between the two kingdoms, and it may be, as Kirby has argued, that this alliance with the East Angles was in fact ‘the cornerstone of Æthelbald’s ascendancy’.66 So would that we knew just a bit more about Ælfwald himself, styled ‘ruler by the grace of God over the East Angles’ in a letter written to Boniface in the late 740s.67 It is as difficult to find any hard evidence (always excepting Bede) for Æthelbald’s actual control of Sussex, Essex, and Kent. Yet the bandwagon continues to roll. On the strength of an entry in the so-called ‘Continuatio Baedae’, presumed to be an eighth-century Northumbrian compilation, it has been suggested that an alliance was formed in the late 740s between Æthelbald and Óengus (Angus, king of the Picts), whereby they divided Britain between them, north and south of the Humber; and that the deal allowed both to represent themselves as holding imperium over these complementary parts of ‘Britain’, thereby confirming that Æthelbald was indeed a Bretwalda, ruler of Britain, or at least ruler of the southern part of Britain.68 This is a bold suggestion indeed, which has other dimensions;69 but it falls some way short of

validating the concept of the Bretwalda as a position previously held by the kings in Bede’s list, held thereafter by the Mercian overlords, and subsequently by Ecgberht of Wessex. The impression we have of the nature (as opposed to the extent) of King Æthelbald’s rule comes largely from Boniface’s letter, written c. 746, rebuking the king for his wicked behaviour;70 and how one pities the priest Herefrith who had to read it out to him, and who seems to have died not long afterwards.71 To his great credit, Æthelbald responded by co-operating with Archbishop Cuthberht in instituting a far-reaching programme of reform, represented by the proceedings of the Council of Clofesho in 747, and by a charter of privileges for Mercian churches issued at Gumley, near Leicester, in 749. It would appear that copies of these texts were circulated together in book form, accompanied by an abridged version of Gregory’s ‘Pastoral Care’, suggesting that Æthelbald and Cuthberht were doing in their own way, south of the Humber, what Bede had done in a rather different way, further north.72 It was tough on Æthelbald that after a reign of 41 years, he should have met his Maker at the hands of his own men. The northern chronicler who described the event in the Continuatio Baedae, for 757, was evidently dismayed by the circumstances surrounding his death: ‘Æthelbald, king of the Mercians, was treacherously killed at night by his bodyguard in shocking fashion; Beornred came to the throne. Cynewulf, king of the West Saxons, died. In the same year Offa, having put Beornred to flight, set out to conquer the kingdom of the Mercians with sword and bloodshed.’73 The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle adds further details: ‘And in the same year Æthelbald, king of the Mercians, was slain at Seckington, and his body is buried at Repton. And Beornred succeeded to the kingdom, and held it but for a little space and unhappily (ungefealice). And that same year Offa succeeded to the kingdom …’.74 Æthelbald is said to have been buried at Repton;75 but the ‘royal tyrant’ (as he was called) was last seen, by a visionary, roasting in the flames of Hell.76 Offa, king of the Mercians (757–96) The circumstances of Offa’s accession were such that he may not have been in a position to derive much advantage from

III, pp. 308–12); but note that an earlier association with Æthelbald is giving way to an association with Wihtred, king of Kent (d. 725). 62 For general discussion of relations between Mercia and Wessex in the eighth century, see Keynes, ‘England, 700–900’, pp. 31–6. 63 The charters in question include S 1410 (LT 17), S 238 (LT 20), S 257 (LT 21) and S 1679 (LT 94), discussed in more detail by Abrams, AngloSaxon Glastonbury. ‘LT’ signifies that the charter was included in Glastonbury Abbey’s (lost) ‘Liber Terrarum’. 64 S 96, preserved in single-sheet form, probably from the archives of Malmesbury abbey. For further discussion, see Sims-Williams, Religion and Literature, pp. 225–9, and Keynes, ‘England, 700–900’, p. 33. 65 Felix’s Life of Saint Guthlac, ed. Colgrave. 66 Ibid., pp. 15–16; Kirby, Earliest English Kings, pp. 131–2. 67 Die Briefe des Heiligen Bonifatius und Lullus, ed. Tangl, pp. 181–2 (no. 81): translated in Emerton, Letters of St Boniface, pp. 149–50 (no. 65). 68 HE Cont., s.a. 750 (ed. Colgrave and Mynors, p. 574), on which see Charles-Edwards, ‘“The Continuation of Bede”, s.a. 750: High-Kings, Kings of Tara and “Bretwaldas”’. Charles-Edwards emphasises, no doubt correctly, that ‘Bretwalda’ or ‘Brytenwalda’ meant ‘ruler of Britain’; but his discussion (esp. p. 142, n. 36) conceals its potential ambiguity to a ninth- or tenth-century reader of the Chronicle (cf. Keynes, ‘Rædwald the Bretwalda’, p. 111, with p. 120 n. 51). Stenton, ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’, p. 57, n. 3, found it more difficult to believe that Óengus had any real association with King Æthelbald. 69 On Óengus, king of the Picts (d. 761), the St Andrews Sarcophagus and the Mercian connection, see Broun, ‘Pictish Kings 761–839’, p. 82; Henderson, ‘Primus inter Pares: the St Andrews Sarcophagus and Pictish

Sculpture’, pp. 139 and 154–6; and Plunkett, ‘The Mercian Perspective’, pp. 225–6. For Óengus, see also HE Cont., s.a. 761 (ed. Colgrave and Mynors, p. 576). 70 Die Briefe des Heiligen Bonifatius und Lullus, ed. Tangl, pp. 146–55 (no. 73): translated in Emerton, Letters of St Boniface, pp. 124–30 (no. 57), and EHD, no. 177. 71 Die Briefe des Heiligen Bonifatius und Lullus, ed. Tangl, pp. 155–6 (no. 74): translated in Emerton, Letters of St Boniface, pp. 130–1 (no. 58), and EHD, no. 178. For the death of Herefrith, see HE Cont., s.a. 747 (ed. Colgrave and Mynors, p. 574). 72 Keynes, ‘Cotton MS. Otho A. I’, pp. 135–41. 73 HE Cont., s.a. 757 (ed. Colgrave and Mynors, p. 574). The inclusion, in this annal, of a reference to the death of Cynewulf, which took place in 786, appears to suggest that the compiler of the continuation was misled by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in which events of 757 and 786 were presented in the annal for 757 — with all manner of interesting implications; but it may be that for ‘died’ we should read ‘became king’, vel sim., and spare ourselves further trouble. There is another record of the death of King Æthelbald and the accession of Offa, from an early-ninth-century context, in BL Cotton Vespasian B. vi, fol. 104r, on which see further below, n. 97. 74 ASC, s.a. 757, in EHD, no. 1, p. 176. 75 For further details, see Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle, ‘The Repton Stone’. 76 Die Briefe des Heiligen Bonifatius und Lullus, ed. Tangl, pp. 247–50 (no. 115), at 249: Emerton, Letters of St Boniface, pp. 189–91 (no. 92), at 190.

8

Simon Keynes

Figure 3: SOUTHERN ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTH CENTURY (drawn by Reginald Piggott)

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The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century that his overlordship in the east did not go unchallenged.80 The further extension of his authority into Kent and Sussex is well established by charters. In the case of Kent, it is possible to discern the process whereby Offa took control, in the mid760s, of both the eastern and western parts of the kingdom, though allowing the local rulers to retain a vestige of their power; Offa seems subsequently to have lost control of Kent for several years, from c. 776 to c. 785, and can be seen to have taken measures thereafter to ensure that his position was not challenged again.81 In the case of Sussex, the evidence (such as it is) suggests that Offa extended his authority westwards from Kent in the early 770s, and demoted the local rulers of the South Saxons from kings to ealdormen; the Kentish victory at Otford seems to have given them a corresponding period of freedom from Mercian control, though Offa was clearly able to enforce his authority there in the last decade of his reign.82 The fortunes of Kent and Sussex were thus closely intertwined. After mentioning the battle of Otford, in 776, the chronicler remarks, mysteriously, that ‘marvellous adders (wundorlice nædran) were seen in Sussex’ (see Figure 3);83 and a charter of 792 shows that military service against vikings (paganos marinos) in Kent might if the need arose be extended to Sussex.84

the structures of power established by Æthelbald; yet the resources at his disposal were such that in time he was able to do what Æthelbald had done before him, and indeed to carry it further. We see this best if Æthelbald is kept down to size, and Offa first dismantled and then reconstructed. The problem with the charters which appear to credit Offa with kingship throughout England is not only that they represent tenth-century usage, but that they distract attention from the genuine texts, and coins, of the late eighth century which determinedly call him rex Merciorum. The ‘king of the Mercians’ gives us a choice between two options. We might suppose that Offa’s political vision involved not the creation of a unified kingdom of the English, far from it, but the extension of the kingdom of the Mercians to encompass and then to subsume all other peoples; or we might prefer to suppose that he had no particular delusions of imperial grandeur, and that he sought, as king of the Mercians, to exercise authority over whatever other peoples could be brought under his sway. The question, therefore, is how best to characterise the internal dynamics of Offa’s kingdom. In his celebrated Mercian Hymns, published in 1971, the poet Geoffrey Hill memorably described Offa as ‘overlord of the M5’.77 According to my road atlas, the M5 runs from Exeter in the south-west, up past Bristol and Gloucester, and onwards through the land of the Hwicce to Worcester and Birmingham. With all due respect to the poet, and his licence, this cannot be right. The M5 must be a scribal error for the A5, which runs from the heart of Gwynedd, in northwest Wales, crossing the dykes near Llangollen, down to Oswestry and Shrewsbury, where it strikes east to Lichfield and Tamworth, in the very heart of Mercia, before heading south-east through the region of the Middle Angles, straight through the middle of St Albans, and along the Edgware Road into the heart of London. In other words, like Æthelbald before him, Offa was the overlord of Watling Street. On his western border, the dyke which bears his name is regarded as a more substantial structure than was once believed, and its interpretation as a work of compromise in a time of peace has given way to a perception of it as a work of almost studied contempt for the Welsh: no point in expanding further west, but necessary to prevent them from mounting smash-and-grab raids into English territory and then escaping back across the border with their cattle and crops.78 Within ‘Mercia’ itself, we sense the importance, to Offa, of Lichfield (where he presently established his archbishopric) and Tamworth (the principal royal residence).79 From there his power spread naturally over the Hwicce, the Magonsæte, Lindsey, and all the way through the Middle Angles, down to the Middle Saxons, and Surrey. Outside ‘Mercia’, Offa’s sway can be shown to have extended (at one time or another) over Essex and East Anglia, and seems to have been exercised there in ways which allowed the local rulers to retain their status; yet the fact that in 794 Offa had King Æthelberht beheaded implies

As is so often the case with the Mercian Supremacy, the crunch comes with Northumbria and Wessex. The notion that Offa was able to extend his control over Northumbria depends on Stenton’s observation that a royal style implying rulership of the whole of England (‘king of the whole country of the English’) was employed in a charter dated 774, in which year Æthelred I came to the Northumbrian throne and might well have submitted to the Mercian king; and it is supposed further that this relationship was confirmed when Æthelred, recently restored to his throne, married Offa’s daughter Ælfflæd, at Catterick, on 29 September 792.85 We now know, however, that the royal style represents tenth-century diplomatic usage; and the marriage does not necessarily indicate any more than that Offa was ready, in the early 790s, to secure good relations with the kingdom of Northumbria.

80 The coinage of Æthelberht suggests that he might have made some display of his independence in the period leading up to his death in 794; see Blackburn, ‘The Anglo-Saxons and Vikings: Eighth – Tenth Centuries’, p. 281, and Deary, The Smashing Saxons, pp. 61–2 (reading ‘East Anglia’ for ‘Kent’). 81 For Offa and Kent, see Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, p. 114, and Kirby, Earliest English Kings, pp. 165–7; but for a more recent appraisal of the evidence, see Charters of St Augustine’s Abbey Canterbury, ed. Kelly, esp. pp. xci–xcii, 61–2 and 200–3. See also Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 501–2, and Keynes, Atlas of Attestations, Table V. 82 Charters of Selsey, ed. Kelly, esp. pp. lxxx–lxxxiv. Cf. Kirby, Earliest English Kings, pp. 167–8. 83 For a more detailed account of the adders, see Gaimar, L’Estoire des Engleis, lines 1987–2006 (ed. Hardy and Martin, i.80 and ii.65, and ed. Bell, pp. 63–4). 84 S 134 (Charters of St Augustine’s, Canterbury, ed. Kelly, no. 15). The charter is dated with reference to the ‘35th’ year of Offa’s reign (late 791 to late 792), during the archiepiscopate of Æthelheard (elected in 792 [after Jænberht’s death on 12 August], according to ASC s.a. 792, although not consecrated until 21 July 793, according to JW); so an ‘early’ date for the charter, in 792, is to that extent the product of a wishful thought. 85 Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 212 and 224, with reference to northern annals in EHD, no. 1, pp. 269 and 272.

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Hill, Mercian Hymns, no. I. For the dyke, see Wormald, ‘The Age of Offa and Alcuin’, pp. 120–1; Worthington, in Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 341–2; and Worthington, below, in this volume, ‘Offa’s Dyke’. 79 For Tamworth, see Hart, ‘The Kingdom of Mercia’, p. 58, Wood, In Search of the Dark Ages, pp. 85–9, and J. Blair, ‘Tamworth’, in Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., p. 439. 78

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Simon Keynes may at the first sight be discovered, yet others of them a man shall hardly picke out although he studie upon them: and they require one I professe it, of much sharper wit and quicker insight than my selfe, to ghesse what they should meane.’93 Even with the help of the Survey of English PlaceNames, it is not clear that we can do very much better — not through any fault of the Survey, but because all trace has been lost of so many of the midland peoples listed in the text. We may presume for the sake of our immediate purposes that it is of Mercian origin, and that it was compiled some time during the period of the Mercian Supremacy, probably in the eighth or early ninth century. It is rather less clear that we may presume further that it should be regarded as a tribute list; yet only if it is a tribute list can it be interpreted as an indication of the scope of Mercian overlordship, and as evidence of a Mercian capacity to take tribute from subject kingdoms, including the West Saxons. One can but assert that there is nothing about the Tribal Hidage which compels us to believe that it is a tribute list, and nothing in it, therefore, which tells us anything about the scope of Mercian overlordship. Others may differ. The Tribal Hidage remains, none the less, a document of the utmost historical importance. It gives us an insight into the political and social structure of the midlands: taking us first to the heart of the kingdom of the Mercians (‘that part first called Mercia’), before working its way round the separately identifiable peoples who fell within the compiler’s view, and ending with the kingdoms on the periphery.

Offa’s relations with Wessex are more complex. Cynewulf, king of the West Saxons (757–86), makes a reasonable impression from his charters,86 and all the indications suggest that he was an independent operator. It is the case, of course, that Offa came to blows with him on at least one occasion, notably at Bensington (Benson), near Dorchester, in 779, when the Mercian king is said to have ‘captured the town’ — securing his control, no doubt, of the corridor leading along the River Thames to London. When papal legates visited England in 786, Cynewulf and Offa met together in a council (convenerunt in unum concilium); unfortunately, the report of the occasion reveals little about the relationship between them.87 Not long afterwards the West Saxon king died in circumstances which made him the centerpiece of historical legend, and which ensured his immortality among students of Old English prose.88 Cynewulf’s successor Beorhtric, king of the West Saxons (786–802), is said (by Stenton) to have ruled as a ‘protected dependent’ of Offa;89 but the evidence (a particular way of interpreting the fact that Beorhtric married Offa’s daughter in 789) evaporates on closer inspection.90 An argument for Mercian domination of Wessex, and therefore for Offa’s supremacy south of the Humber, otherwise depends on two forms of evidence. The first, most controversially, is the Tribal Hidage — a short text of uncertain origin, compiled at an unknown date, for a purpose which remains obscure.91 If the Tribal Hidage is (as many suppose) a Mercian tribute-list, it might reasonably be expected to include those peoples from whom the overlord was able to take tribute; in which case the inclusion of Essex, East Anglia, Kent, and Sussex would simply confirm what is already known from charters and coins, while the inclusion of Wessex would add a further dimension to our conception of Mercian overlordship. So the question is whether the Tribal Hidage will bear the burden of interpretation placed upon it by modern historians. Its significance was first recognised by William Camden, who published the text in 1600, drawing attention to its value as evidence of the nature of political organisation before King Alfred (as was generally supposed) divided the country into shires.92 Yet Camden was clearly baffled: ‘Although some of these names

The second form of evidence cited in support of the subjection of Wessex to Mercia is the evidence of church councils. It is certainly impressive to encounter Offa dealing with a dispute, or granting land to a layman, by means of a charter duly witnessed by a full complement of the bishops in the province of Canterbury, including the bishops of Winchester and Sherborne.94 But what construction do we put upon it? One view is to argue on this basis that Offa presided over ‘royal’ councils attended by all the southern bishops, and took advantage of them for his own purposes, implying that he exercised power over all the land (including Wessex); and one might go further (with Stenton), and argue that such gatherings were symbolic of an emergent national consciousness among the English people.95 An alternative (and arguably preferable) view is that the Archbishop of Canterbury convened meetings of his bishops, attended by Offa because they happened to take place in his territory, and carrying no further political implications beyond the fact that the king took advantage of such occasions to transact some business of his own;96 in which case one could argue further that such gatherings were symbolic of the sense of a common purpose fostered by the Archbishop of Canterbury, in the spirit of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History. It was indeed a time

86 Cynewulf’s charters deserve closer analysis as a group. The extant texts are preserved in the archives of Malmesbury (S 260), Muchelney (S 261: EHD, no. 71), Wells (S 262: EHD, no. 70), Sherborne (S 263), and Bath (S 265); the archival provenance of S 264 (extant in single-sheet form) is not known (? Bedwyn). See also S 1256, from Shaftesbury (Charters of Shaftesbury, ed. Kelly, no. 1). It is striking that the lost Glastonbury ‘Liber Terrarum’ contained at least eight charters of Cynewulf (S 1681–8). For the West Saxon diplomatic tradition in the eighth century, see Keynes, ‘West Saxon Charters’, p. 1110; see also Keynes, Atlas of Attestations, Table XII. 87 ‘Report of the Legates to Pope Hadrian’, cited below, n. 133. 88 ASC, s.a. 757, describing events of 786. For recent discussion of Cynewulf and Cyneheard, see Kleinschmidt, ‘The Old English Annal for 757’, and Scragg, ‘Wifcyþþe and the Morality of the Cynewulf and Cyneheard Episode in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle’. 89 Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 210. 90 Keynes and Lapidge, Alfred the Great, p. 236; Keynes, ‘England, 700– 900’, pp. 34–5. 91 Keynes, ‘England, 700–900’, p. 23. See also J. Blair, ‘The Tribal Hidage’, Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 455–6, with map. 92 The earliest surviving text of the Tribal Hidage is ‘Recension A’, in BL Harley 3271, fol. 6v. ‘Recension B’ is a version found in a manuscript which belonged to the antiquary Francis Tate, first printed by Camden in 1600, and better known as reprinted by Spelman in 1626. ‘Recension C’ is the later ‘Latin Group’. For further details, see Dumville, ‘The Tribal Hidage’.

93

Camden, Britain, p. 158. A readily accessible example of such a document is S 1257 [Brentford, 781] (EHD, no. 77); see also S 123 [Chelsea, 785], 128 [Chelsea, 788], 130 [Chelsea, 789], 131 [Chelsea, 789], 1430 [Chelsea, 789], and 139 [Clofesho, 793 x 796]. See also Keynes, Atlas of Attestations, Table VIII. 95 For the classic exposition of these councils, see Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 236–8; see also Wormald, ‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, pp. 124 and 125. 96 For a full discussion of the evidence, see Cubitt, Anglo-Saxon Church Councils, pp. 49–59. See also S. Keynes, ‘Anglo-Saxon Church Councils’, Handbook of British Chronology, pp. 584–5, and Keynes, Councils of Clofesho. 94

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The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century (including charters attested or confirmed by him, as well as charters issued in his own name) comprises approximately seventy texts preserved in the archives of about fifteen religious houses, in [Greater] Mercia (Worcester, Evesham, Peterborough, Crowland, Chertsey, St Albans, Westminster, and London, St Paul’s), Kent (Christ Church, Canterbury, St Augustine’s, Canterbury, and Rochester), Sussex (Selsey), Wessex (Glastonbury), and elsewhere (Paris, St Denis).103 The charters would respond to further examination as a group, whether in their archival, diplomatic, palaeographical, or historical contexts;104 and while we may regret that no documentation is preserved from several of the major houses in Mercia (such as Lichfield and Hereford), we can at least gain some impression from them of the Mercian regime in operation. We see, for example, how the king conducted much of his business, in the 770s, at ‘Mercian’ councils attended by the bishops of Leicester, Lichfield, Lindsey, Hereford and Worcester (but not including London), and how this pattern of activity gave way, in the 780s, to a greater dependence on the church councils convened at Chelsea and Clofesho. We sense the significance, in the 770s and 780s, of Botwine, abbot of Medeshamstede, and, in the 790s, of Beonna, also abbot of Medeshamstede.105 Among the laymen, we notice the prominence of Ealdorman Brorda from the 760s onwards (perhaps with special interests at Woking in Surrey),106 and of Ealdorman Berhtwald and his brother Ealdorman Eadbald from the 760s to c. 790 (perhaps with special interests in London and Sussex).107 The special importance of the royal estate or palace (uilla regalis, palatio regale, vel sim.) at Tamworth (Staffordshire) can be taken for granted, but the itinerary of the Mercian king took him some distance further afield (see Figure 3). In 779 a transaction originally ratified before an assembly of ‘Mercian’ bishops at Hartlebury in Worcestershire was not completed until brought before a second gathering of laymen, as well as bishops, at Gumley in Leicestershire.108 In 780 Offa sought to secure his good name at Worcester by giving the bishop some land, a bible, and two gold rings; the transaction took

of an emergent collective consciousness, symbolised most effectively by the remarkable collection of texts contained in the surviving fragment of a manuscript written probably in Mercia in the early ninth century.97 The texts comprise part of the ‘Metrical Calendar of York’ (commemorating a number of saints, possibly composed by Alcuin, c. 760) [104rv];98 a note reporting the murder in ‘756’ of King Æthelbald, the defeat of Beornred tyrannus by Offa, and Offa’s own accession to the kingdom of the Mercians [104r];99 other miscellaneous items of learned import, including a list of popes to Leo III (d. 816) and a version of the Graeco-Syrian list of the seventy disciples of Christ [104r, 105r–107v];100 a set of episcopal lists for all of the sees in the Church of the English, north and south of the Humber [108r–109r];101 and a set of royal genealogies for several kingdoms per partes Brittaniae (Northumbria, Mercia, Lindsey, Kent, East Anglia) [109rv].102 The scope of the compiler’s interests was wide indeed; unfortunately, the fragmentary state of the manuscript prevents us from knowing whether it might have extended further to the inclusion of royal genealogies for the ‘Saxon’ kingdoms of Wessex, Sussex, and Essex. The fact is that Offa’s power is impressive enough even without the inclusion of Northumbria and Wessex. Offa was ruler of a kingdom with its centre of gravity in the upper Trent valley, but with its main axis reaching down Watling Street through the territory of the Middle Angles to London. We may presume that he exercised firm control over the various Anglian peoples along the border with Wales, and that he enjoyed varying degrees of political influence, in the east, over the kingdoms of Lindsey, East Anglia, Essex, Kent, and Sussex. Yet as in the case of Æthelbald, we need to look at the nature as well as at the extent of Mercian power: at the mechanics as well as the dynamics of the Mercian regime. Historians are predisposed to approach such matters through analysis of charters, coinage, and legislation; and it is probably indicative of a larger truth that it is Offa who provides us with the first opportunity for analysis of this kind. The corpus of documentary evidence for Offa’s reign

103

(1) MERCIA, etc. Worcester: S 56 [original], 57, 58, 59 [ps-original], 60, 61, 63, 104, 107, 109 (Bredon), 113, 116 (Bredon), 117 (Bredon), 118, 120, 121, 126, 137, 139 [original], 141, 142, 145, 146, 147, 1257, 1411, 1430, 1828, 1829. Evesham: S 54, 112, 114 [original], 115, 122. Peterborough: S 144 (Woking), 1412. Crowland: S 135. Chertsey: S 127. St Albans: S 136, 138. Westminster: S 124. London (St Paul’s): S 1790; cf. S 132. (2) KENT. Canterbury (Christ Church): S 106 [original], 108, 110, 111, 123 [original], 125, 128 [original], 132, 1614. Canterbury (St Augustine’s): S 134, 140, 143 (Minster). Rochester: S 34, 105, 129, 130, 131. (3) SUSSEX. Selsey/Chichester: S 46, 49, 50, 1178, 1183, 1184 [original]; cf. S 108. (4) WESSEX. Glastonbury: S 1692. (5) OTHERS. Unknown: S 119. Paris (St Denis): S 133, 1186. 104 For analysis of the diplomatic of eighth-century Mercian charters, see Scharer, Die angelsächsische Königsurkunde im 7. und 8. Jahrhundert, pp. 159–278; for analysis of the witness-lists, see Keynes, Atlas of Attestations, Tables VII–X. 105 On Botwine and Beonna, see Keynes, The Councils of Clofesho, pp. 35– 7. 106 For Brorda, see Thacker, ‘Some Terms for Nobleman’, pp. 212–13 and 218–20; Blair, Early Medieval Surrey, p. 95; Keynes, Councils of Clofesho, p. 42, with n. 180; Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, pp. 118–19. See also Keynes, Atlas of Attestations, Table X. In a letter written from Northumbria in 790, Alcuin asked his correspondent to send wine for Brorda; see Alcuin, Epist., no. 8 (Clavis, p. 179; ed. Duemmler, pp. 33–4); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 14–15 (no. 9). 107 For Berhtwald and Eadbald, see S 133 and S 1186, from the archives of St Denis. For further discussion, see Atsma and Vezin, ‘Le dossier suspect des possessions de Saint-Denis en Angleterre revisité (VIIIe-IXe siècles)’. 108 S 114 (BL Cotton Augustus ii. 4).

97 BL Cotton Vespasian B. vi, fols. 104–9 (three bifolia from the middle of a quire), now removed from the rest of the Cottonian manuscript and kept separately. For a description of the manuscript, see Thompson and Warner, Catalogue of Ancient Manuscripts in the British Museum, pp. 68 [fols. 1– 103] and 79–80 [fols. 104–9], with pl. 24 (showing fol. 104r). The extended note by Sir Robert Cotton (Vespasian B. vi, fol. 110), which remains in the main part of the manuscript, relates to comparable material in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS. 173. 98 For ‘MCY’, see Wilmart, ‘Un témoin Anglo-Saxon du calendrier métrique d’York’, and Lapidge, ‘A Tenth-Century Metrical Calendar from Ramsey’, pp. 344–9. 99 Oldest English Texts, ed. Sweet, p. 171. The note differs significantly from the entries in the Continuatio Baedae and in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (below, p. 18) in describing Beornred as a tyrannus; Beornred is pointedly omitted from later Mercian regnal lists. For further discussion, see Dumville, ‘The Anglian Collection of Royal Genealogies and Regnal Lists’, p. 41, n. 1, and ‘Kingship, Genealogies and Regnal Lists’, p. 98. 100 For the latter, see James, ‘An Ancient English List of the Seventy Disciples’. 101 Page, ‘Anglo-Saxon Episcopal Lists, I’, pp. 74–6, and ‘Anglo-Saxon Episcopal Lists, III’, pp. 3–7. See also Keynes, Councils of Clofesho, p. 22, and S. Keynes, ‘Episcopal Lists’, in Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 172–4. 102 Dumville, ‘The Anglian Collection’, pp. 30–1. For plates showing the royal genealogies on fol. 109rv, see Foot, ‘The Kingdom of Lindsey’, pp. 130–1.

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Simon Keynes Wessex;116 and while the quantity of evidence has greatly increased in the last twenty-five years or so, the pattern remains fundamentally the same.117 The point is, of course, that centres of production and economic activity were concentrated in the east and south-east, even if centres of political initiative and muscle were concentrated, at least for the time being, in the north-west and south-west.118 The coinage is otherwise symbolic of the advance represented by Offa’s activities over those of Æthelbald: in the realisation that the issue of coinage was an aspect of government which kings did well to control in their own interests, and in the effective use of the medium as a means of projecting an image of kingship commensurate with Offa’s pretensions,119 and as a means of conveying his identity as a ‘Mercian’ king.120 What we miss most is Offa’s law-code, cited and apparently used by Alfred the Great in the late ninth century. The most natural presumption is that Alfred was referring to a vernacular text, similar in form to the extant codes of Æthelberht of Kent and Ine of Wessex; and had it survived in its own right, it would doubtless have transformed what we know of the Mercian regime and of the customs of the peoples under its control.121 It has been suggested that Alfred was alluding to the canons emanating from a church council held in the presence of the papal legates in 786;122 and

place at Fladbury (Worcs.), where the bishop had prepared a feast (conuiuium) for Offa and his men, and was later adjusted at Brentford in Middlesex.109 We also find Offa attending church councils at Chelsea (in the 780s) and at Clofesho (in the 790s); on another occasion we encounter him on a royal estate at Freoricburna, ‘in regione Suthregeona’ (Surrey).110 The charters provide the basis for our understanding of Offa’s changing relationship with local rulers, and of the manner in which he exercised whatever he regarded as his prerogatives in Kent and Sussex. The tale of Offa’s dealings with Archbishop Jænberht, in the 770s and 780s, is matched for intrigue and incident only by the tale of Coenwulf’s dealings with Archbishop Wulfred in the early ninth century;111 and we catch a sense of Offa’s relief, after Jænberht’s death (in 792), when he may well have felt more secure in Kent than he had done before.112 Certainly, there is a contrast between Archbishop Jænberht’s opposition to Offa, and Archbishop Æthelheard’s readiness to co-operate, perhaps symbolised by Æthelheard’s return to Clofesho.113 And while it was Æthelbald who (in 749, at Gumley) had found it politic to specify the immunities from secular services which were to be enjoyed by churches in respect of their lands in Mercia, not forgetting at the same time to mention the military obligations which remained, it was Offa who had occasion (in 792, at Clofesho) to assert the same principle in Kent and Sussex.114 It was not that military burdens were being imposed afresh by the Mercian overlord, or that a system was being extended from Mercia into Kent; it was, rather, a matter of clarifying the nature of obligations incumbent upon estates held by ‘ecclesiastical tenure’, in the interests of the holders of the land and of the king.115

116 Dolley and Metcalf, ‘Two Stray Finds’, pp. 461–3, with map; see also Blackburn, ‘The Anglo-Saxons and Vikings: Eighth –Tenth Centuries’, p. 282. 117 For further details, see the Early Medieval Corpus (Single Finds of Coins in the British Isles, 410–1180), devised and maintained by Dr M. A. S. Blackburn and Dr S. M. Miller (Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge), and on the Internet at: . The map of findspots of ‘Mercian’ coins (757–879) shows essentially the same distribution as the Dolley-Metcalf map, but now with significantly more material in the area between the Humber and the Great Ouse; the maps of findspots of ‘West Saxon’ coins (786–871), and of coins of Alfred (871–99), are broadly similar. 118 For the suggestion that the West Saxon mint should be located at Southampton, as opposed to Winchester, see Dolley, ‘Location of the PreAlfredian Mints’, pp. 60–1. 119 The glorious variety of ‘portraits’ which appeared on Offa’s ‘Light’ (pre792) coinage include some which are demonstrably derived from Roman prototypes, and some which seem to have more to do with the portrayal of kings (notably David) in contemporary Insular art (e.g. the ‘Durham Cassiodorus’, the ‘Vespasian Psalter’, and the St Andrews Sarcophagus). Whether this necessarily signifies an intended identification of Offa with David is another matter. For further discussion, see Zipperer, below, in this volume, ‘Art and Image in Offa’s Portrait Coinage’. One might otherwise seek to regard Offa’s extraordinary hairstyle, especially in coins of the moneyer Eadhun, as in some sense symbolic of his kingship (by loose analogy with the long hair of the Merovingian kings). 120 For examples of coins according Offa the style ‘rex Merciorum’, see Blunt, ‘Coinage of Offa’, plates IV–VII, nos. 27, 37, 45, 69. It is the case (as noted by Metcalf, ‘Offa’s Pence Reconsidered’, p. 41, and others; but cf. Blackburn, ‘The Anglo-Saxons and Vikings: Eighth–Tenth Centuries’, pp. 277 and 279) that the legend on certain specimens of one of Offa’s cointypes in the ‘light’ (pre-792) series, by the moneyer Alhmund (Blunt, ‘Coinage of Offa’, plate V, nos. 40–1), can be interpreted as ‘OF[FA] R[EX] A[NGLORUM]’. The alternative interpretation (‘OF[F]A R[EX]’) is undermined by analogy with the legend on other specimens of the same type, which read ‘OF[FA] R[EX] M[ERCIORUM]’ (e.g. Blunt, ‘Coinage of Offa’, no. 40); but it is the presumption that ‘r[ex] A[nglorum]’, in this context, signifies a king of Angles (as in the ninth-century coinage of the kings of the East Angles), coupled with the fact that the normal ethnic in Offa’s ‘light’ and ‘heavy’ coins is undoubtedly ‘M[ERCIORUM]’, that prevents one from pressing this evidence any further. 121 Keynes and Lapidge, Alfred the Great, pp. 164 and 305–6. 122 See Wormald, ‘The Age of Offa and Alcuin’, pp. 112 and 125, and ‘In Search of Offa’s Law-Code’. It is likely that a Latin or vernacular text of the canons promulgated by a council of the English Church in 786 was issued separately; but whether it would have been a document actually or

If the evidence of charters draws us deep into some of the murkier aspects of the Mercian hegemony in the eighth century, the evidence of coins exposes no less effectively some of the basic truths about the economic conditions on which that hegemony came to depend. The classic map published by Dolley and Metcalf in 1958 suggested that use of coinage was concentrated in an area east and south of an arc extending from Southampton Water through the midlands to the Wash, all but excluding the heartlands of Mercia and 109

S 118 (spurious). S 144. For Freoricburna, see Keynes, Councils of Clofesho, p. 38, n. 161. 111 For Offa and Jænberht, see below, pp.15–16. A further dimension is added by Offa’s dealings with Ecgberht, king of Kent, and with Ecgberht’s thegn Ealdhun (reeve of Canterbury, and a kinsman of Archbishop Jænberht). For the ‘Ealdhun Affair’, see S 155 (EHD, no. 80), with S 1259 and S 1264; see also Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 36 and 207, Brooks, N., Church of Canterbury, pp. 114–15, Wormald, ‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 111, and Wormald, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, pp. 115–16. For Offa’s dealings with the rulers in Sussex, see Charters of Selsey, ed. Kelly, esp. pp. lxxx–lxxxiv. 112 S 134 (Charters of St Augustine’s, Canterbury, ed. Kelly, no. 15). As Dr Kelly remarks, it may be that Offa only felt secure in Kent after Jænberht’s death in 792. 113 Keynes, Councils of Clofesho, pp. 7–9. 114 Brooks, N., ‘Development of Military Obligations’. 115 The nature of the services extracted by kings in respect of land throughout their kingdoms must have been developing throughout the eighth century, and by the end of the century the services of military import might well have involved some necessarily complex distinctions between armyservice, bridge-work, and fortress-work; but just as kings would be intent upon securing services from all holders of land, so too would those who held their land on privileged terms be determined to protect their privileges, and one can imagine under these circumstances that it became necessary to define the privileges and the burdens alike. 110

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The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century gave up some inconveniently distant assets and unenforceable interests in the Thames valley, in return for 110 hides of prime land in Kent.126 Unfortunately (although typically for the period), Bedeford itself cannot be identified for certain; but if it is modern Bedford (Bedeford in Domesday Book), on the river Ouse, where (according to the St Albans legend) King Offa was buried, it may be there that Offa had intended his widow to establish a royal mausoleum in his memory.127

although the influence of these canons can be detected in Alfred’s legislation, one cannot help feeling in this context that he had something else in mind. Besides, the suggestion would have the undesirable effect of removing some of the mystery, by denying us the pleasure of contemplating what Offa’s laws might have contained. There is much else that is suggestive of what we have lost. The prominence of Queen Cynethryth in court circles from c. 770 onwards, and their son Ecgfrith’s status in the 780s and 790s (latterly as ‘king of the Mercians’), find reflection in the witness-lists of royal charters; while the coins struck in Cynethryth’s name, in the 790s, confirm the queen’s high standing in the Mercian regime.123 At some stage in his reign Offa began to take a special interest in a religious house at Bedeford, apparently with the intention that it should be associated with himself and his immediate family. In 798, within two years of Offa’s death, Archbishop Æthelheard and a certain ‘Abbess Cynethryth’ came to an agreement about the church at Cookham (on the river Thames), of which she is said to have had control. There can be little doubt that the abbess in question was Offa’s widow; but since the matter in hand was represented as an agreement between ‘Kent’ and ‘Bedeford’, it seems that Cynethryth was abbess not of Cookham but of Bedeford.124 The earlier stages in Cookham’s history, as it had unfolded during the course of the previous fifty years, need not detain us, although they are in many ways symbolic of the relations between Mercia, Wessex and Kent in the eighth century.125 Our attention focusses on the arrangements made in 798, after Cookham had been adjudged to the archbishop, in order to ensure lasting concord between Offa’s heirs and the archbishop and his successors. Archbishop Æthelheard gave Cookham and its charters back to Cynethryth, and in return she gave 110 hides of land in Kent (which had belonged to King Offa, and which Offa had left to his heirs with reversion to the church at Bedeford) to Christ Church, Canterbury. For good measure, Æthelheard gave Cynethryth the monastery at Pectanege (unidentified), which ‘good King Ecgfrith’ had given to him. It was an agreement to the advantage of both parties: Cynethryth, in her capacity as abbess of Bedeford, withdrew from Kent but secured control of Cookham, with its lands in the Thames valley, and gained control of Pectanege into the bargain; while Archbishop Æthelheard

The Offa emerging into view is a creature very different from Stenton’s visionary statesman.128 We need not doubt that he surpassed his predecessors in wealth, power, and glory, and that he towered above all his contemporaries; but it is clear that he achieved his purposes by an irresistible combination of intrigue, ruthlessness, and brute force. His power extended over several once-independent kingdoms, notably East Anglia, Essex, Kent, and Sussex; and while he dealt with each in a different way, according to changing circumstances, the tendency was towards the uncompromising suppression of local rulers and the concentration of authority in Offa’s own hands. Enemies and rivals suffered the same uncertain fate as Beornred tyrannus; were forced into exile on the continent, like Ecgberht of Wessex;129 or met the same sad end as King Æthelberht of East Anglia. Yet while he was not ruler of all England, nor even intent upon the unification of the English people, in no way does that diminish Offa’s claim to be regarded as the dominant force of his age. In a flight of the imagination he could be seen as a species of Mercian octopus: his tentacles reaching out over different peoples, smothering some and poised more or less threateningly over others, but united only in the head which remained firmly in the north-west midlands. Alcuin on Offa and Ecgfrith Offa left no writings of his own, and no-one seems to have been moved to write an account of his deeds, whether for the instruction of contemporaries or for the benefit of posterity; so we must turn elsewhere in order to understand what impression he made on an intelligent observer of his own day. The correspondence of Alcuin, comprising over three hundred letters (about seventy of which are addressed to recipients in England, mainly in Northumbria, Mercia and Kent), affords a remarkable view of how one interested observer, in the late eighth and early ninth centuries, responded from the continent to political and other

ostensibly issued under Offa’s presidency, and thus easy to confuse with royal legislation, is perhaps another matter. 123 For the coinage of Cynethryth, see Blackburn, ‘The Anglo-Saxons and Vikings: Eighth–Tenth Centuries’, pp. 279–80. Such matters might be taken for granted, were it not for the apparent contrast between conditions in Mercia and Wessex. 124 S 1258 (EHD, no. 79). 125 (i) King Æthelbald gave the monastery of Cookham, with its lands and charters, to Canterbury, evidently as a token of his special relationship with Archbishop Cuthberht (740–60). (ii) Two of Cuthberht’s former pupils stole the charters, and gave them to King Cynewulf, apparently in the early 760s; whereupon Cynewulf began to use the church for his own purposes. (iii) Successive archbishops (Bregowine 761–4 and Jænberht 765–92) complained, to no avail. (iv) Cookham was among the places seized by King Offa from Cynewulf, presumably after the battle of Bensington in 779; so Offa now had control of the church, without its charters, but might well not have been inclined at this stage (after the battle of Otford) to give it back to Canterbury. (v) King Cynewulf returned the charters to Canterbury (an ingenious move, since it would have strengthened Canterbury’s claim against Offa). (vi) King Offa left the church to his heirs, still without charters. (vii) Archbishop Æthelheard brought the charters to Clofesho, in 798; and it was decided that Cookham should be returned to Canterbury.

126

For further discussion, see Brooks, N., Church of Canterbury, pp. 116 and 131. Cf. Wormald, ‘The Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 110. Interestingly, there were relics of St Æthelberht at Bedford [Bydanford] (Rollason, ‘Lists of Saints’ Resting-Places’, p. 90). 128 Cf. Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, esp. p. 224. 129 Ecgberht was driven from England to France in 789, for three years (ASC, s.a. 839). Nor was he alone. In a letter to Archbishop Æthelheard, written in 793x796, Charlemagne asks the archbishop to make representations to King Offa on behalf of some exiles, whom he was returning to their country because their lord, Hringstan, had died; see Alcuin, Epist., no. 85 (ed. Duemmler, pp. 127–8), and EHD, no. 196. In a letter to Offa, written in 796, Charlemagne alludes to the exiles ‘who in fear of death have taken refuge under the wings of our protection’, including a priest Odberht; see Alcuin, Epist., no. 100 (ed. Duemmler, pp. 144–6), and EHD, no. 197. The priest Odberht is sometimes identified as Eadberht Præn; but see Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, p. 111, n. 63. 127

14

Simon Keynes developments in his homeland.130 For present (strictly Mercian) purposes, the importance of this correspondence is essentially threefold. In the first place, the letters reflect Alcuin’s perception of Offa’s political strategy in the late 780s and early 790s, and in particular the king’s plans for his son Ecgfrith (anointed king in 787). In the second place, the letters cast some light on the circumstances behind the dispute between Charlemagne and Offa which seems to have flared up c. 790, and which seems to have been resolved by 792. In the third place, the letters show quite strikingly how Alcuin’s attitude to Offa changed after the ‘death of kings’ in 796: during Offa’s lifetime, Alcuin had adopted a positive attitude towards the Mercian king, and towards his plans, for as long as there was some prospect that the plans would bear fruit; but after Offa’s death, in July 796, and after the deaths of other kings in the same year, there was no choice but to face up to the truth, and to admit that the plans had been doomed to failure from the start. Alcuin’s correspondence thus provides an object lesson in the treatment of written sources: the positive attitude adopted during Offa’s lifetime was doubtless well-informed and well-intended; but it should not be taken too literally, for it was only after Offa’s death that Alcuin was prepared to comment upon the less savoury aspects of his rule.

the consecration of Ecgfrith as king, also in 787.135 It is difficult to resist the temptation to explain these events in terms of each other, and thereby to conjure up a good story of political intrigue. At the very least, for example, one might choose to regard the visit of the papal legates as an opportunity for an enquiry into Offa’s loyalty;136 but one could go much further, and make the connections in a rather different way. The background is arguably Offa’s presumed awareness of recent developments on the continent, but the key is strained nature of his relations with Kent, and in particular with Jænberht, archbishop of Canterbury (765–92). In Frankia, the ceremony of anointing had been used to introduce a new conception of kingship, to effect a change of dynasty, and to secure a son’s position within his father’s lifetime. In 751 the replacement of the Merovingian King Childeric III by the Carolingian Pippin the Short, sanctioned in the previous year by Pope Zacharias, was confirmed by Pippin’s anointing at the hands of Archbishop Boniface; in 754 Pippin was anointed by Pope Stephen, and with him his sons Charles (Charlemagne) and Carloman; and in 781 Pippin and Louis, sons of Charlemagne, were consecrated by Pope Hadrian.137 Frankish kingship, symbolized hitherto by the flowing hair of the Merovingian reges criniti, as depicted on the seal-ring of Childeric I, and as described by Einhard,138 was thus re-constituted through the application of holy ointment and freshly articulated with all the ideology of the Old Testament; yet at the same time the charisma of royal blood lost none of its power to sustain a dynasty in the interests of political stability. To Offa’s mind, the consecration of Ecgfrith would achieve a similar transformation in the nature of Mercian kingship, without involving the replacement of his dynasty by another, and it would also help to secure Ecgfrith’s position in the eyes of ecclesiastical and secular king-makers alike. Such a plan would most naturally require the approval and co-operation of the archbishop of Canterbury, but Offa’s activities in Kent, and Kentish resistance to Offa, had hardly been conducive to the maintenance of good relations between the Mercian king and the Kentish archbishop.139 So, if Offa

(i) Offa and Ecgfrith It is largely on the basis of Alcuin’s correspondence that we may credit Offa with the formulation of a grandiose scheme in the 780s, involving an attempt to secure the succession for his son Ecgfrith. A number of events which occurred in the later 780s are attested in their separate ways without any explicit indication that they were connected with each other: Offa’s re-establishment of control of Kent, apparently in 784 or 785;131 the spreading of a rumour, by certain ‘enemies’ of Offa and Charlemagne who are not identified, to the effect that the Mercian king was plotting with his Frankish counterpart to depose the pope;132 the visit of two papal legates to England in 786;133 the elevation of the (Mercian) see of Lichfield to archiepiscopal status in 787, involving some loss of status for the archbishop of Canterbury;134 and

247–8; ed. Duemmler, pp. 189–91), transl. EHD, no. 203, and Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 63–4 (no. 49); King Coenwulf to Pope Leo III (798), on the enmity between Offa and Jænberht, in WM, GR i.88 (ed. Mynors et al., pp. 124–8), transl. EHD, no. 204; Pope Leo to King Coenwulf (798), on Offa’s presentation of the case, and the restoration of primacy to Canterbury, in Alcuin, Epist., no. 127 (Clavis, p. 247; ed. Duemmler, pp. 187–8), transl. EHD, no. 205; Pope Leo to Archbishop Æthelheard (802), transl. EHD, no. 209; Pope Leo to King Coenwulf, in WM, GR i.89 (ed. Mynors et al., pp. 130–2); and the decree of the council of Clofesho (12 Oct. 803), abolishing the archbishopric of Lichfield, transl. EHD, no. 210. 135 ASC, s.a. 787. 136 For discussion of the letter, see Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 215– 16; Wallace-Hadrill, ‘Charlemagne and England’, pp. 157–8; and WallaceHadrill, Early Germanic Kingship, pp. 113–14. 137 RFA, s.a. 749–50, 754, 781. For the suggestion that the familiar story was a construction put upon events by Carolingian spin-doctors, in the late 780s, see McKitterick, ‘The Illusion of Royal Power in the Carolingian Annals’, esp. p. 18. It would be nice to know when, from whom, and under what circumstances Offa first heard tell of these developments. 138 For the seal-ring of Childeric I (d. 481/2), see Wallace-Hadrill, The LongHaired Kings, frontispiece. For Einhard’s devastating caricature of Merovingian kingship, which has served its purpose well, see Charlemagne’s Courtier, ed. Dutton, pp. 16–17. 139 Jænberht, abbot of St Augustine’s, Canterbury, had been appointed archbishop of Canterbury in 765. He would thus have been deeply implicated in Kentish assertion of its independence, represented by the battle of Otford in 776 (above, p. 11), and by his own coinage (below, in this volume, Chick, ‘The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries’).

130

The letters are printed in Alcuin, Epist. (ed. Duemmler). For a recent survey of the correspondence as a whole (retaining Duemmler’s numeration), see Clavis, pp. 171–355. Only a selection of the letters is currently available in English translation: see EHD, between nos. 191 and 210, and Allott, Alcuin of York. Bullough, ‘Alcuin’s Cultural Influence’, and Garrison, ‘The Social World of Alcuin’, are a promise of what is to come. 131 For Offa and Kent, see Charters of St Augustine’s, ed. Kelly, pp. xci and 201–2. 132 The evidence is an undated letter from Pope Hadrian I to Charlemagne: see Councils and Ecclesiastical Documents, ed. Haddan and Stubbs, III, pp. 440–3 (text), and Loyn and Percival, Reign of Charlemagne, pp. 132–4 (no. 39) (translation). It should be stressed that the letter is undated, and that it is preserved, in the Codex Carolinus, with letters from the late 780s; see Brooks, Church of Canterbury, pp. 117 and 350, n. 29. 133 For the text of the legates’ report to Pope Hadrian, see Alcuin, Epist., no. 3 (ed. Duemmler, pp. 19–29); see also EHD, no. 191 (extracts in translation). For another (inferior) text, see Councils and Ecclesiastical Documents, ed. Haddan and Stubbs, III, pp. 447–62; see also Johnson, A Collection of the Laws and Canons of the Church of England, I, pp. 264–85 (translation). For further discussion, see Cubitt, Anglo-Saxon Church Councils, pp. 153–90, and Storey, Carolingian Connections: England and Francia, 750–870. 134 ASC, s.a. 787. The circumstances in which Lichfield was raised to archiepiscopal status are known only from correspondence dealing with the reverse process: Alcuin to Archbishop Æthelheard (798), to the effect that the unity of the Church had been in part torn asunder, ‘by a certain desire for power’ [quadam potestatis cupiditate], in Alcuin, Epist., no. 128 (Clavis, pp.

15

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century conceived his plan at about the same time as he recovered control of Kent, in 784 or 785, he may have realised at once that it could only proceed after some reorganisation of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, in which the kingdom of Mercia would have its own archbishop with powers extending throughout a newly-created province. Offa thus made overtures to the pope, perhaps representing his case in a way which would have enabled him to count on Charlemagne’s support; and one imagines that it was none other than Jænberht, archbishop of Canterbury, who then concocted the ‘rumour’ that Offa and Charlemagne were plotting to depose the pope, in a desperate bid to undermine Offa’s standing in Rome. The pope, for his part, was by no means inclined to believe the rumour, and remained ready to accept Offa’s case, influenced (perhaps) by the undertakings which came with it; so in 786 he despatched his legates to England, where initially they made necessary arrangements with the affected parties,140 proceeding thereafter to gain the acceptance of a reforming capitulary both north and south of the Humber. The province of Lichfield was duly created in the following year, following a ‘contentious synod’ at Chelsea; and Ecgfrith was consecrated king. There is always a danger of joining up dots without good cause, and of explaining recorded events in terms of each other (thereby disregarding our woeful ignorance of other events which may have been part of the same story); and the process has to be seen for what it is. Yet there are various suggestions in Alcuin’s correspondence that Offa had indeed gone to great lengths in order to secure the succession for his son. Alcuin wrote to Egfrith himself, urging him to learn authority (auctoritas) from his father and compassion (pietas) from his mother.141 He wrote to Offa, in 796, remarking that the ‘hope of many’ (spes multorum) lay in Ecgfrith.142 And he wrote to a religious woman called Hundrud, at the Mercian court, urging her to convey his good wishes to Queen Cynethryth, and to ‘my son’ Ecgfrith.143 Even more telling in this respect are the letters written by Alcuin in the aftermath of Ecgfrith’s death.144 One can well imagine that there were many, like Alcuin, who approved of the change from the past which Ecgfrith’s kingship promised to represent, and who were prepared to accept that the end would justify the means; for, needless to say, the prospect of an orderly succession was as much in the interests of the Church and other parties as it would have been in the interests of the Mercian dynasty.

(ii) The dispute between Offa and Charlemagne Alcuin had accompanied the papal legates to England in 786, and was in England again in 790, apparently on a mission to make peace between Offa and Charlemagne. Alcuin himself gives no explanation of the dissension between the two rulers; but his dark allusions suggest that it involved matters of some complexity. According to a later Frankish chronicle, trouble had arisen on one occasion when Charlemagne had proposed a marriage between his son Charles and a daughter of King Offa, to which Offa had responded that he would not agree unless Bertha, Charlemagne’s daughter, was given in marriage to his own son Ecgfrith; but Charlemagne took offence, and ordered that English merchants should not be allowed into his lands.145 The dispute in which Alcuin was to be the peace-maker is known similarly to have resulted in the stoppage of trade, and if only for that reason is normally assumed to have concerned the break-down in marriage negotiations. Alcuin’s allusions to the dispute suggest, however, that there was rather more to it than that. In a letter to Colcu, written early in 790, Alcuin mentioned the dispute as something ‘fomented by the devil’, as a result of which trade was ceasing;146 in a letter written from Northumbria, later in the same year, Alcuin asked Adalhard of Corbie if he knew anything about the cause of the dispute between old friends, adding ‘We must be peace-makers between Christian peoples’;147 and in a letter to the priest Beornwine, written some time after he had returned to the continent, Alcuin affirmed that he had never been disloyal ‘to King Offa or to the English people’.148 A possible explanation emerges if again one resorts to the joining of dots. There was in England a scion of the West Saxon dynasty, called Ecgberht, who was potentially a thorn in the side of Beorhtric, king of the West Saxons, but who can also be shown to have posed a threat to King Offa’s rule in Kent.149 In 789 Beorhtric married one of Offa’s plentiful supply of daughters, doubtless adding to his own prestige; and in return he helped Offa drive Ecgberht out of the country, which would have been to their mutual advantage.150 Ecgberht is said to have been in exile in Frankia for three years, presumably from 789 to 792; and since Charlemagne is known to have harboured various men

145

‘Acts of the Abbots of Fontenelle’ (composed c. 840), xii.2, in EHD, no. 20. 146 Alcuin, Epist., no. 7 (Clavis, pp. 178–9; ed. Duemmler, pp. 31–3); transl. EHD, no. 192, and Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 42–3 (no. 31). 147 ‘Et si ullatenus scire possis, quae sit causa huius dissensionis inter olim amicos, mihi noli abscondere. Pacis enim seminatores simus inter populos christianos.’ Alcuin, Epist., no. 9 (Clavis, p. 180; ed. Duemmler, pp. 34–5); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 16–17 (no. 10). 148 Alcuin, Epist., no. 82 (Clavis, p. 221; ed. Duemmler, pp. 124–5); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, p. 51 (no. 39). 149 S 38 purports to be a charter of King Ealhmund granting land in Kent to Reculver, dated 784; see also Charters of St Augustine’s, ed. Kelly, p. 202. According to ASC, MS. F, s.a. 784, this Ealhmund was the father of Ecgberht, father of Æthelwulf, kings of the West Saxons; the genealogy in ASC, s.a. 855, names Ecgberht’s father as Ealhmund. In other words, Ealhmund was a member of a West Saxon dynasty who gained a foothold in Kent, and Ecgberht, through his father Ealhmund, might thus have been a threat to Offa’s position in Kent. 150 ASC, s.a. 789 (‘In this year King Beorhtric married Offa’s daughter Eadburh’) and 839 (‘Earlier, before he [Ecgberht] became king, Offa, king of the Mercians, and Beorhtric, king of the West Saxons, had driven him from England to France for three years. Beorhtric had helped Offa because he had married his daughter’). For a rather different interpretation of the evidence, see Scharer, ‘The Writing of History at King Alfred’s Court’, pp. 183–5; cf. Keynes, ‘King Alfred and the Mercians’, p. 3, n. 8.

He may also have maintained his opposition, as best he could, after Offa’s recovery of control of Kent, c. 785. For an explicit statement of Offa’s enmity towards Archbishop Jænberht and the men of Kent, as a factor behind the elevation of Lichfield, see the letter of King Coenwulf to Pope Leo III, in WM, GR i.88 (ed. Mynors et al., pp. 124–8), and EHD, no. 204. 140 According to their own report (above, n. 133), the legates were first received by Archbishop Jænberht, and ‘advised him of those things which were necessary’ (ea quae necessaria erant), before moving on to the court (aula) of Offa, king of the Mercians, who received them ‘with immense joy and honour’, etc. One gets the distinct impression that Jænberht had little say in a matter which had been fixed behind his back. 141 Alcuin, Epist., no. 61 (Clavis, p. 210; ed. Duemmler, pp. 104–5); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 48–9 (no. 35). 142 Alcuin, Epist., no. 101 (Clavis, p. 232; ed. Duemmler, pp. 146–8); transl. EHD, no. 198, and Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 53–5 (no. 41). 143 Alcuin, Epist., no. 62 (Clavis, p. 210; ed. Duemmler, pp. 105–6); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, p. 49 (no. 36). The letter may have been written soon after the death of King Offa. 144 See below, p. 17.

16

Simon Keynes fleeing from Offa’s tyranny,151 it is by no means improbable that Ecgberht himself had sought refuge at Charlemagne’s court. To judge from Alcuin’s correspondence, the dispute in which he was to be the mediator had arisen in 789, in other words at precisely the time of Ecgberht’s (presumed) arrival in Frankia.152 The fact that Ecgberht was able to return to England in 792 suggests that his political opponents had soon found cause to relent. It is conceivable, therefore, that Alcuin had been charged with sorting out a number of differences which had arisen between the two rulers, and that Charlemagne’s support of Offa’s enemies was prominent among them. Under these circumstances Alcuin would have been in an excellent position to discover what was going on, and it may have been at this time (if not before) that he became fully conscious of the less savoury aspects of Offa’s regime. Whatever the case, normal relations between Offa and Charlemagne appear to have resumed in the early 790s.

English’ (regnum tuum, immo Anglorum omnium).157 The more famous letter addressed by Charlemagne to Offa in 796, written by someone other than Alcuin (now at Tours), is addressed ‘to the most revered man his dearest brother Offa, king of the Mercians’ (viro venerando ac fratri carissimo Offae regi Merciorum).158 The letter reveals the continued importance to both parties of trade between the two nations; but, in suggesting that an attempt was being made to stop their respective agents from swindling each other, it also reminds us of the real world in which the rulers moved. The tone of Alcuin’s correspondence changed dramatically in 796, when he was forced to come to terms with the realities of Mercian power which he had previously been all too willing to overlook. Quite apart from the impact of the viking invasions, Alcuin was deeply upset by the murder, on 18 April 796, of Æthelred, king of the Northmbrians; and the loss of the king of his own patria, whose friendship he had so assiduously cultivated, was compounded by the deaths later in the same year of both Offa himself (d. 29 July 796) and his son Ecgfrith (d. 17 December 796). In a letter of encouragement to his former pupil Eanbald, archbishop of York, he wrote: ‘Times are dangerous in Britain, and the death of kings (mors regum) is a sign of misery’.159 Alcuin had occasion to write at the same time to the people of Kent, following Archbishop Æthelheard’s enforced flight from his see: ‘The greatest danger overhangs this island and the people living in it. A pagan people habitually makes pirate raids on our shores, a thing never heard of before. And the English peoples, kingdoms and kings disagree among themselves. Scarcely anyone is found now of the old stock of kings (ex antiqua regum prosapia), and I weep to say it; the more obscure their origin, the less their courage.’160 There is nothing unusual about a churchman’s deep respect for ancient lineage, and for the promise of stability that came with it, though one does wonder whether Alcuin had ever asked himself who had been instrumental in suppressing ‘the old stock of kings’. His more immediate purpose, however, was to urge the men of Kent to recall their archbishop, and to bear in mind what Gildas had said in the more distant past. The British had been punished for their sins; now the English peoples and nations grew weak because they did not keep peace and faith among themselves. Needless to say, it was a message the English would hear again.

(iii) Alcuin’s attitude to Offa It should come as no surprise that during Offa’s lifetime Alcuin was unstinting in his praise for the Mercian king. In a letter to Offa written from Frankia in the late 780s or early 790s, he wrote: ‘It greatly pleases me that you are so intent on education, that the light of wisdom, which is now extinguished in many places, may shine in your kingdom. You are the glory of Britain (decus Brittaniae), the trumpet of proclamation, the sword against foes, the shield against enemies.’153 Of course the hyperbole must be taken with a pinch of salt, but there is no mistaking Alcuin’s warm approval of a king whose worldly power made him a friend to be cultivated, as much as a force to be respected. The view from Frankia is also reflected in letters written by Alcuin on Charlemagne’s behalf: one, addressed to Æthelheard, archbishop of Canterbury, and to Ceolwulf, bishop of Lindsey, mentions Offa as ‘my dearest brother’ (fratrem meum carissimum);154 the other is addressed to Offa himself as Charlemagne’s ‘dear brother and friend’ (dilecto fratri et amico).155 It would clearly be mistaken to attach too much significance to the pleasantries of diplomatic usage,156 especially when the writer of the letter was trying to achieve a particular purpose. When Alcuin had occasion to write to Offa again, in 796, he laid it on with the proverbial trowel, assuring Offa that Charlemagne often spoke of him ‘in a most loving and friendly way’ (amabiliter et fideliter), addressing him as ‘most wise ruler of the people of God’ (sapientissime populi Dei gubernator), and indicating what he should do in order that God would exalt, enlarge and crown in eternity ‘your kingdom, nay more, that of all the

Alcuin reserved his most telling comments for four letters addressed to recipients in Mercia. In a letter to Abbess Æthelburh (Eugenia), daughter of Offa and sister-in-law of 157

Alcuin, Epist., no. 101 (Clavis, p. 232; ed. Duemmler, pp. 146–8); transl. EHD, no. 198, and Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 53–5 (no. 41). Alcuin, Epist., no. 100 (Clavis, pp. 231–2; ed. Duemmler, pp. 144–6); transl. EHD, no. 197, and Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 51–3 (no. 40). For authorship and date, see Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, p. 116, n. 78. 159 ‘Tempora periculosa sunt in Brittania; et mors regum miseriae signum est.’ Alcuin, Epist., no. 116 (Clavis, pp. 240–1; ed. Duemmler, p. 171); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 10–11 (no. 7) 160 ‘Inminet vero maximum huic insulae et populo habitanti in ea periculum. Ecce, quod numquam antea fuit auditum, populus paganus solet vastare pyratico latrocinio litora nostra. Et illi ipsi populi Anglorum et regna et reges dissentiunt inter se. Et vix aliquis modo, quod sine lacrimis non dicam, ex antiqua regum prosapia invenitur, et tanto incertioris sunt originis, quanto minoris sunt fortitudinis.’ Alcuin, Epist., no. 129 (Clavis, p. 248; ed. Duemmler, pp. 191–2); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 64–6 (no. 50). Cited by Stenton, ‘Lindsey and its Kings’, p. 131.

151

158

Above, n. 129. In the letter to Colcu (above, n. 146), written early in 790, Alcuin writes: ‘For a certain dissension, fomented by the devil, has lately (nuper) arisen between King Charles and King Offa, so that on both sides the passage of ships has been forbidden to merchants and is ceasing.’ So it would appear that the dispute had arisen in 789. 153 Alcuin, Epist., no. 64 (Clavis, p. 211; ed. Duemmler, p. 107); transl. EHD, no. 195, and Allott, Alcuin of York, p. 50 (no. 38). 154 Alcuin, Epist., no. 85 (Clavis, pp. 222–3; ed. Duemmler, p. 128); transl. EHD, no. 196. 155 Alcuin, Epist., no. 87 (Clavis, pp. 223–4; ed. Duemmler, p. 131). Both letters are attributed to Alcuin by Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, p. 116, n. 78. 156 Cf. Wormald, ‘The Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 101, with Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, p. 116, n. 78. 152

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The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century Lindisfarne, it seemed odd (and might even have seemed striking) that Alcuin should have directed these remarks, about Offa and Mercia, to a bishop in Northumbria; but Professor Bullough showed in 1993 that the letter was sent not to Hygeberht, bishop of Lindisfarne, but to Unwona, bishop of Leicester – for whom the remarks would have been so very much more to the point.167 It is one of those radical reinterpretations of a text that makes perfect sense as soon as it has been pointed out, and I cannot help feeling how appropriate it is that it should bring Alcuin’s remarks back where they belong, into a ‘Mercian’ context.

the murdered Northumbrian king, Alcuin expressed his dismay that the kings of the English had become tyrants not rulers (reges vobiscum tyranni facti sunt, non rectores).161 In 797 he wrote to an unnamed patricius, identified by William of Malmesbury as a certain Osberht, but more plausibly identified by modern scholarship as the ubiquitous Brorda.162 Alcuin could still refer, as the need arose, to the ‘good, moderate, and chaste customs which Offa of blessed memory established for them’ (mores bonos et modestos et castos … quos beatae memoriae Offa illis instituit),163 but only now was he also prepared to admit, what he must have known before, that Offa’s hands were stained with the blood of a good many rivals. He reflects thus on the death of Offa’s son Ecgfrith: ‘For truly, as I think, that most noble young man has not died for his own sins; but the vengeance for the blood shed by the father has reached the son. For you know very well how much blood his father shed to secure the kingdom on his son. This was not a strengthening of his kingdom, but its ruin.’164 So if once Alcuin had approved of King Offa, with the prospect of the consecrated Ecgfrith to follow, he now acknowledged that all his hopes had been betrayed by the brutal origins of Mercian power. In a third letter, written at about the same time, Alcuin urged Coenwulf, the new king of the Mercians, always to have in mind ‘the exemplary behaviour (optimos mores) of your most noble predecessor, his modest way of life (modestiam in conversatione) and his concern to reform the life of a Christian people’, adding, however, that he should be careful not to follow Offa in anything which he had done out of greed or cruelty. ‘For it was not without reason that his most noble son lived for so short a time after his father. Sons often receive the punishment their fathers earned.’165 In a fourth letter to a Mercian recipient Alcuin remarks yet again on the failure of Offa’s plans for the consecrated Ecgfrith: ‘You well know how the illustrious king (rex ille clarissimus) prepared for his son to inherit his kingdom, as he thought; but as events showed, he took it from him’.166 At this point Alcuin quotes the beginning of Psalm 127 (‘Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it; except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain’), as if it were the epitaph for the Mercian kingdom. He adds, in his own words, and more concisely: Homo cogitat, Deus iudicat (Man proposes, God disposes). For as long as this last letter was thought to have been addressed to Hygeberht, bishop of

Coenwulf, king of the Mercians (796–821) An important consequence of taking a more restricted view of the Mercian supremacy during the reigns of Æthelbald and Offa is that we no longer have to imagine, with Stenton, that the Mercian Supremacy ended with Offa’s death;168 for if Offa is cut down to size, King Coenwulf emerges as a worthy successor to his eighth-century predecessors, and as the fifth in the line of great Mercian overlords. This is not the place in which to pursue him any further. Suffice it to say that his extended dispute with Wulfred, archbishop of Canterbury (805–32), takes us to the heart of Mercian interests in the south-east, and shows what the Mercians had to lose.169 It emerges from a charter preserved in the archives of Selsey that the death of King Coenwulf, in 821, was one of those events which (like the death of King Edgar in 975) precipitated a spate of disputes over land and privileges, as if feelings hitherto contained were henceforth released, symbolising the ending of a period of powerful rule.170 No less significant, however, are the various indications that the Mercian polity suffered some kind of internal collapse in the 820s, as successive kings proved incapable of controlling the faction which broke out in high places, leading inexorably to Ecgberht’s conquest of Mercia in 829.171 It was, perhaps, an ignominious end to a period of political dominance which had been sustained in one form or another for nearly two hundred years, although it did not prevent the Mercians from recovering their composure in the central decades of the ninth century, and collaborating with the new political order developing to the south of the river Thames. Observations on the ‘Mercian Supremacy’ We still lack an extended study of the ‘Mercian Supremacy’, in which distinctions might be made between the successive phases of its history, establishing how its nature changed from one period to the next. Such a study would have to proceed from a determination to break free from the conventional perspectives imposed upon us by the surviving sources: to compensate for their distorting effects, to make all due allowance for their obvious limitations, and to imagine how matters would appear if seen from other points of view (secular as well as ecclesiastical, lowly as well as

161 Alcuin, Epist., no. 300 (Clavis, pp. 341–2; ed. Duemmler, pp. 458–9); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, p. 57 (no. 45); see also Alcuin, Epist., nos. 36, 102 (Clavis, pp. 196–7, 233; ed. Duemmler, pp. 78, 148–9); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 56–7, 55–6 (nos. 44, 42). There seems to be no reason to identify Offa’s daughter Æthelburh as the abbess of Fladbury (Worcestershire), as noted by Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, pp. 115–16, with n. 77. 162 For Brorda, see above, n. 106. 163 The remark is more likely to be rhetorical than specifically an allusion to the canons promulgated in the presence of the papal legates, in 786, or to any lost law-code of the king. For discussion of Alcuin’s own influence on the drafting of the legatine councils (above, n. 133), see Cubitt, Anglo-Saxon Church Councils, pp. 153–90, esp. 169–70. 164 Alcuin, Epist., no. 122 (Clavis, pp. 243–4; ed. Duemmler, pp. 178–80); transl. EHD, no. 202, and Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 57–9 (no. 46). See also WM, GR i.70.4 (ed. Mynors et al., p. 104) and i.94.2 (ibid., p. 138), with Thomson, General Introduction and Commentary, p. 57. 165 Alcuin, Epist., no. 123 (Clavis, pp. 244–5; ed. Duemmler, pp.180–1); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 59–60 (no. 47). 166 Alcuin, Epist., no. 124 (Clavis, pp. 245–6; ed. Duemmler, pp. 181–4); transl. Allott, Alcuin of York, pp. 154–6 (no. 160), and Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’, pp. 122–5.

167

Bullough, ‘What has Ingeld to do with Lindisfarne?’. Stenton, ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’, p. 64; Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 225. 169 For Coenwulf and Wulfred, see Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 229– 30; Brooks, Church of Canterbury, pp. 132–42 and 175–97; Wormald, ‘The Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 127; and Kelly, ‘Wulfred’, in Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Lapidge et al., pp. 491–2. 170 S 1435 (Charters of Selsey, ed. Kelly, no. 15), on which see Keynes, ‘Control of Kent’, pp. 119–20. 171 Keynes, ‘Mercia and Wessex in the Ninth Century’. 168

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Simon Keynes would seem less nasty than they do if only they could speak with their own voice.175 I should like to believe it, yet I think I should prefer to imagine that other factors were at play. Need we really blame the absence of evidence on the Danes?176 Is is not possible that the Mercians failed to generate the right conditions, or to press the right buttons? Might they not have operated in ways which produced relatively little documentation? Would any missing documentation necessarily have told a different story? Surely we cannot be imagining everything? Do not some of the ‘external’ sources gives us a very fair indication of what was going on? The same train of thought has a further dimension. It is said, in the case of Offa, that we simply lack a biographer. As Sisam put it, Offa ‘seems to have had all the attributes of a great ruler except a contemporary historian’,177 as if it is only the lack of a Life of Offa, emanating from the king’s circle, that prevents us from seeing him as a king on a par with Charlemagne, or Alfred the Great. My only feeling about this analogy is that it is by implication a bit unfair on Charlemagne and Alfred. Offa is less well-known to us than Alfred because, indeed, we lack a contemporary biography, a chronicle, a law-code, a will, and a substantial body of the king’s own writings; but perhaps we lack them in Offa’s case because they never existed, and because it is Alfred who is exceptional in having inspired, required or generated such a wealth of documentation. It is, I think, a question of maintaining differentials: and I would rather examine how and why kings might have differed from each other, than attempt to place them all on the same podium.178

exalted, vanquished as well as victorious). It would involve the analysis of information derived from a multiplicity of different disciplines, and would depend furthermore on the effective integration of all this material into a coherent whole. The amount of information likely to be available would not detract, however, from the scope which would always remain for the exercise of the historical imagination. It would be advisable in conclusion to shelter behind three points, or sets of observations. The first has to do with the quality of the surviving source material. In the words of Sir Winston Churchill, ‘In studying Offa we are like geologists who instead of finding a fossil find only the hollow shape in which a creature of unusual strength and size undoubtedly resided.’172 His point was, I suppose, that we find quite considerable traces of Offa’s existence, but no substance of the man himself. It is now axiomatic that we are dependent for our knowledge of the activities of the great Mercian overlords of the seventh, eighth and early ninth centuries on the unsympathetic and uncomprehending testimony provided by their rivals, their victims, and their critics.173 For the first phase (Penda and Wulfhere, in the seventh century) we are largely dependent on Stephen and Bede, representing Northumbrian views of the Mercians, as their rivals south of the Humber. For the second phase (Æthelbald and Offa, in the eighth century) we have the external voices of Boniface (a West Saxon) and Alcuin (a Northumbrian), some fairly hostile testimony from Wales, and are otherwise dependent on material preserved at Worcester (in the kingdom of the Hwicce), at Canterbury and Rochester (in Kent), and at Selsey (in Sussex). For the third phase (Coenwulf, et al.) we remain dependent on material from Worcester, Canterbury, and Selsey; and we know about the archiepiscopal status of Lichfield not from the negotiations which had set it up, but from negotiations which tore it down. There are some sets of annals covering the eighth century, but they only extend our view of events from a Northumbrian perspective. The AngloSaxon Chronicle is West Saxon, and Asser is supposed by some to show us that the establishment in Wessex was a biased or hostile witness.174 Charters are one-sided. And so, the argument runs, what we so desperately need is an Ecclesiastical History written from any perspective other than Bede’s, a set of Mercian annals, and some charters, books and other kind of material from the heartland of Mercia (Lichfield), or from other centres such as Louth (Lindsey), Leicester and Medeshamstede (for the Middle Angles), preferably supplemented by some traditions about Æthelbald from his burial-place at Repton, and about Offa from his burial-place at Bedford. The point is well made, and often repeated; but what are we to make of it? The implication of this line of argument is that the Mercian overlords appear more overbearing than their Northumbrian and West Saxon counterparts, and that it is incumbent upon the modern historian to compensate for the ‘anti-Mercian’ bias of the sources, and to bear in mind that the Mercians

The second point, which is a variation of the first, is that we should not try to turn the Mercian rulers into something other than what they were. Stenton was convinced that the Mercians made a vital contribution towards the process which we recognise in retrospect as the political unification of England. Since Æthelbald was designated rex Britanniae in the Ismere charter, and since Offa was hailed by Alcuin as decus Brittaniae and in a charter as rex et decus Britanniae,179 it semed self-evident that the Mercian overlords were nothing if not ‘rulers of Britain’ and must have been omitted accidentally from the list of ‘Bretwaldas’ in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Historians were not slow to make the most of the possibilities: ‘From 742 to 825 there are records of 21 ecclesiastical councils of the Southern province, presided over by the Mercian kings acting in their capacity as bretwaldas’; or, ‘The Mercian bretwaldas did much to weld together their subject provinces to form a unified English state, and in doing so they developed many of the features that were to characterize royal administration in England during the succeeding centuries.’180 The notion that the ‘Bretwalda’ had anything to do with political unification was challenged most effectively by Patrick Wormald, who fastened instead on a very different kind of process (leading from Pope Gregory, via Bede, to Offa, Alfred the Great, and his successors); yet he did not deny the existence of Bretwaldas as such, and was happy to insert the

172

Churchill, History of the English-Speaking Peoples I, p. 67. Wormald, ‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, pp. 110–12 and 114. 135; Wormald, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas, and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, pp. 118–19. 174 Wormald (‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 111; ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas, and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, pp. 118–19) regards the Chronicle as in some sense ‘anti-Mercian’, because Asser, from the same milieu, is demonstrably anti-Mercian. Asser was Welsh, and therefore anti-Mercian; but there were other ‘Anglo-Saxon’ attitudes at Alfred’s court. 173

175

Wormald, ‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 112. Hart, ‘The Kingdom of Mercia’, p. 59; Wormald, ‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 110. 177 Sisam, Studies, p. 133. 178 See also Keynes, ‘Power of the Written Word’, pp. 175–6. 179 Above, pp. 7 and 17, and S 155 (EHD, no. 80). 180 Hart, ‘The Kingdom of Mercia’, pp. 58–9. 176

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The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century Mercians into the line.181 Others, including myself, wish that the Bretwaldas had never been invented. We should certainly set aside Stenton’s notion that the Mercian Supremacy was a staging post on the road towards the political unification of the English people; but for the same reasons we should also set aside the notion that the West Saxons in general, and Alfred in particular, inherited or indeed owed anything to what Offa had built.182 No-one disputes that a notional kingship of Britain was the ultimate accolade to which a powerful ruler might aspire, and that in the eyes of some observers Æthelbald and Offa were among those who attained this great distinction. What remains at issue is whether there is any continuity or connection between the various positions held by the various overlords of the seventh, eighth, and ninth centuries, and whether kings vied with each other to gain recognition as ‘ruler of Britain’. In my view, Æthelbald and Offa deserve far better than to be added to Bede’s list of kings who held imperium south of the Humber, or to be inserted into the chronicler’s list of ‘Bretwaldas’, with an apology from posterity that they must have been omitted by accident or by design. They were not the Mercian successors of the seventh-century kings of the Northumbrians, any more than they were the precursors of the ninth-century kings of the West Saxons, or of the tenthcentury kings of the English. They were kings of the Mercians; and they should not be forced into any other kind of sequence which is artificial, and to which they patently do not belong.183

relationship they stood to the king, or to the peoples listed in the Tribal Hidage. The charters also provide what little is known or may be surmised about the obligations imposed by secular powers on the holders of land, whether laymen or religious houses, about the exemptions which they might have enjoyed, and about the disputes which arose as their respective interests became increasingly intertwined. Further study of all aspects of book-production, of the Mercian ‘schools’ of sculpture, of minsters and parishes, and of church architecture, may yet throw light on the condition and organisation of the Church in the eighth and early ninth centuries, and help us to identify what were its driving forces.185 Numismatists have shown from the distribution of single finds where economic activity took place;186 and leave us in no doubt as to the overwhelming importance of commerce in London and the south-east. Archaeologists trace the development of towns, markets, and fortified places, while philologists add their own dimension to our understanding of literary culture in Mercia and Kent. The crucial question for historians remains, quite simply, how ‘unified’, or cohesive, was this kingdom of the Mercians?187 London is always described as a ‘Mercian’ town, but how ‘Mercian’ was it? It was not among the sees named as belonging to the archdiocese of Lichfield;188 and perhaps it was never ‘Mercian’, as such. On the map we also see the kingdom of Wessex, already divided up into shires, and the other kingdoms which for a while maintained a sense of their separate identities. Political development in this period has been seen as a matter of kingdoms participating against each other in ‘a fiercely contested knock-out competition’, for mastery of the land.189 The metaphor is compelling, though not entirely helpful. Each kingdom had its own strengths and weaknesses, advantages and disadvantages, its own rules of engagement, and, perhaps most significantly, its own agenda; and each set about its business in its own way. Whatever they were doing, it was not anything so straightforward as a game of football.

The third point, which is an extension of the second, is that we should recognise the possibility that the Mercian ‘state’ may have been something peculiar to itself, and significantly different from the kind of polity which we find in Wessex or in Kent. On the map of ‘Southern England in the Eighth Century’ (Figure 3), we see the great midland kingdom of the Mercians, with its heartland in the upper Trent valley, but extending over many of the peoples listed separately in the Tribal Hidage. We see the rivers and the roads: among them the Thames, and Watling Street, leading down through St Albans into London. We also see some of the meeting-places and minsters, and the episcopal sees. Would that we knew more about the internal structures of this Mercian polity. The so-called ‘Anglian Collection’ of royal genealogies organises the Mercian rulers in four lines, sharing a common ancestor in Pybba, who would have flourished in the early seventh century; but of course it is possible that this appearance of dynastic cohesion was created in the early ninth century, and that the reality was far more complex.184 Analysis of charters gives us the names of the more prominent members of the Mercian ‘aristocracy’ in the eighth century, and enables us to discern which of their number were prominent in meetings of the king and his councillors, even if it is not obvious in what

The ‘Mercian Supremacy’ is not diminished by its reinvention; rather, we emerge with a better understanding of what it entailed. For all the ruthlessness and oppression, we should give credit to Æthelbald for responding positively to Boniface’s calls for reform, and to Offa for responding to Alcuin, and for trying so hard to transform the whole show into something new. Credit is due to Alcuin, at the same time, for realising (in retrospect) why the plan would not work. The problem was that while Æthelbald and Offa left enduring reputations, they left no permanent legacy: nothing to sustain what either one of them had achieved. The circumstances in which the Mercian supremacy began to fall apart, in the 820s, and in which the West Saxons began to build up a far more stable kingdom, stretching right across southern England from Wessex eastwards into Surrey,

181 Wormald, ‘Age of Bede and Æthelbald’, pp. 73, 95, 99–100, and ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas, and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, pp. 107, 118–19, 128. 182 Wormald, ‘Age of Offa and Alcuin’, p. 106: ‘In the end it was Wessex and Egbert’s grandson, Alfred, who inherited what Offa had built.’ 183 Keynes, ‘Rædwald the Bretwalda’, pp. 112–13. 184 For a genealogical table of the ‘Royal House of Mercia’ (which is exactly the impression the compilers of the genealogies sought to create), see EHD, Table 7. It is significant, of course, that no such table can be compiled for the successive Mercian kings in the ninth century (Beornwulf, Ludeca, Wiglaf, Berhtwulf, Burgred, and Ceolwulf II).

185 For a recent survey of the sculpture, see Plunkett, ‘The Mercian Perspective’. On the minsters of the Middle Anglian region, see Keynes, The Councils of Clofesho, pp. 30–48. 186 Above, p. 14–15. 187 Cf. Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, pp. 112–14 and 124; and Kirby, Earliest English Kings, p. 179. 188 WM, GR, i.87 (ed. Mynors et al., p. 122), listing Worcester, Leicester, Sidnacester [Lindsey], Hereford, Elmham and Dunwich. 189 Bassett, ‘In Search of the Origins of Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms’, pp. 26–7.

20

Simon Keynes Sussex, Kent, and Essex, are not yet fully understood.190 One suspects, however, that as the balance between the kingdoms changed, and as the incidence of viking activity increased (from the 830s onwards), it was the Mercians who found themselves unable to rise to the new challenges, and the West Saxons who proved themselves more than capable of holding their own.

190

For general reflections on the period, see Keynes, ‘Control of Kent’.

21

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century

Abbreviations

Mynors, with R. M. Thomson and M. Winterbottom, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford, 1998).

Alcuin, Epist. ‘Alcvini sive Albini epistolae’, Epistolae Karolini Aevi II, ed. E. Duemmler, Monumenta Germaniae Historica Epist. 4 [Karolini Aevi 2] (Berlin, 1895; reprinted Munich, 1978), pp. 1–481, with number of letter.

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Allott, S., Alcuin of York: His Life and Letters (York, 1974). Atsma, H., and J. Vezin, ‘Le dossier suspect des possessions de Saint-Denis en Angleterre revisité (VIIIe-XIIe siècles)’, Fälschungen im Mittelalter, IV: Diplomatische Fälschungen (II), Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Schriften 33.4 (Hanover, 1988), pp. 211–36.

Bede, HE Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, eds B. Colgrave and R. A. B. Mynors, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford, 1969). Clavis Clavis des Auteurs Latins du Moyen Age: Territoire Français 735–987, II: Alcuin, eds M-H. Jullien and F. Perelman, Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Mediaeualis (Turnhout, 1999).

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James, E., Britain in the First Millennium (London, 2001).

23

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century Keynes, S., ‘King Alfred and the Mercians’, Kings, Currency and Alliances: History and Coinage of Southern England in the Ninth Century, eds M. A. S. Blackburn and D. N. Dumville, Studies in Anglo-Saxon History 9 (Woodbridge, 1998), pp. 1–45.

James, M. R., ‘An Ancient English List of the Seventy Disciples’, Journal of Theological Studies 11 (1910), pp.459–62. James, M. R., ‘Two Lives of St Ethelbert, King and Martyr’, English Historical Review, 32 (1917), pp.214–44.

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Johnson, J., A Collection of the Laws and Canons of the Church of England, new ed., 2 vols. (Oxford, 1850).

Keynes, S., ‘Mercia and Wessex in the Ninth Century’, Mercia: an Anglo-Saxon Kingdom in Europe, eds M.P. Brown and C.A. Farr (London, 2001), pp.310–28.

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Keynes, S., An Atlas of Attestations in Anglo-Saxon Charters c. 670 – 1066, ASNC Guides, Texts and Studies 1 (Cambridge, 2002).

Kelly, S. E., ed., Charters of Shaftesbury Abbey, AngloSaxon Charters 5 (Oxford, 1996). Kelly, S. E., ed., Charters of Selsey, Anglo-Saxon Charters 6 (Oxford, 1998).

Keynes, S., ‘The Power of the Written Word: Alfredian England 871-899’, Alfred the Great: Papers from the Eleventh-Centenary Conferences, ed. T. Reuter (Aldershot, 2003), pp.175–97.

Keynes, S., ‘Anglo-Saxon Church Councils’, Handbook of British Chronology, 3rd eds, ed. E. B. Fryde, D. E. Greenway, S. Porter and I. Roy (London, 1986), pp. 583–89.

Keynes, S., and M. Lapidge, Alfred the Great: Asser’s ‘Life of King Alfred’ and Other Contemporary Sources (Harmondsworth, 1983).

Keynes, S., ‘Changing Faces: Offa King of Mercia’, History Today November 1990, pp. 14–19.

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Keynes, S., ed., Facsimiles of Anglo-Saxon Charters, AngloSaxon Charters, Supplementary Series 1 (Oxford, 1991).

Kleinschmidt, H., ‘The Old English Annal for 757 and West Saxon Dynastic Strife’, Journal of Medieval History 22.3 (1996), pp.209–24.

Keynes, S., ‘Rædwald the Bretwalda’, Voyage to the Other World: the Legacy of Sutton Hoo, eds C. B. Kendall and P. S. Wells (Minneapolis, MI, 1992), pp. 103–23.

Lapidge, M., ‘A Tenth-Century Metrical Calendar from Ramsey’ [1984], in his Anglo-Latin Literature 900–1066 (London, 1993), pp. 343-86.

Keynes, S., ‘A Lost Cartulary of St Albans Abbey’, AngloSaxon England 22 (1993), pp.253–79.

Lapidge, M., J. Blair, S. Keynes, and D. Scragg, eds, The Blackwell Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1999).

Keynes, S., ‘The Control of Kent in the Ninth Century’, Early Medieval Europe 2.2 (1993), pp.111–31.

Lewis, S., The Art of Matthew Paris in the Chronica Majora, California Studies in the History of Art, (Aldershot, 1987).

Keynes, S., The Councils of Clofesho [Brixworth Lecture 1993], Vaughan Paper 38 (Leicester, 1994).

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Keynes, S., ‘The West Saxon Charters of King Æthelwulf and his Sons’, English Historical Review 109 (1994), pp.1109–49.

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Keynes, S., ‘England, 700–900’, The New Cambridge Medieval History, II: c. 700 – c. 900, ed. R. McKitterick (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 18–42.

Mackenzie, H., Essay on the Life and Institutions of Offa, King of Mercia, A.D. 755–794 (London, 1840).

Keynes, S., ‘The Reconstruction of a Burnt Cottonian Manuscript: the Case of Cotton MS. Otho A. I’, British Library Journal 22 (1996), pp.113–60.

Matthew, D., ‘The Making of Anglo-Saxon England’, Stenton’s ‘Anglo-Saxon England’ Fifty Years On, ed. D. Matthew with A. Curry and E. Green, Reading Historical Studies 1 (Reading, 1994), pp. 111–34.

24

Simon Keynes

Sisam, K., Studies in the History of Old English Literature (Oxford, 1953, repr. 1967).

McKitterick, R., ‘The Illusion of Royal Power in the Carolingian Annals’, English Historical Review 115 (2000), pp.1–20.

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Metcalf, D. M., ‘Offa’s Pence Reconsidered’, Cunobelin 9 (1963), pp.37–52. Metcalf, D. M., Thrymsas and Sceattas in the Ashmolean Museum Oxford, 3 vols. (London, 1993–4).

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Morgan, N., Early Gothic Manuscripts [I]: 1190–1250, Survey of Manuscripts Illuminated in the British Isles 4/1 (London, 1982). Nash-Williams, V. E., The Early Christian Monuments of Wales (Cardiff, 1950).

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Stenton, F. M., ‘Foreword to Sir Cyril Fox’s “Offa’s Dyke”’ [1955], reprinted in (and cited from) Preparatory to AngloSaxon England, ed. D. M. Stenton (Oxford, 1970), pp. 357– 63.

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25

The Kingdom of the Mercians in the Eighth Century

Vince, A., ed., Pre-Viking Lindsey, Lincoln Archaeological Studies 1 (Lincoln, 1993). Walker, I. W., Mercia and the Making of England (Stroud, 2000). Wallace-Hadrill, J. M., The Long-Haired Kings and Other Studies in Frankish History (London, 1962). Wallace-Hadrill, J. M., ‘Charlemagne and England’ [1965], reprinted in (and cited from) his Early Medieval History (Oxford, 1975), pp. 155–80. Wallace-Hadrill, J. M., Early Germanic Kingship in England and on the Continent (Oxford, 1971). Wats, W., ed., Matthæi Paris Monachi Albanensis Angli, Historia Major (London, 1640), incorporating Vitæ Duorum Offarum sive Offanorum (London, 1639), cited here from edition published in 1683–4. Wilmart, A., ‘Un témoin Anglo-Saxon du calendrier métrique d’York’, Revue bénédictine 46 (1934), pp.41–69. Wood, M., In Search of the Dark Ages (London, 1981). Wormald, P., ‘Viking Studies: Whence and Whither?’, The Vikings, ed. R. T. Farrell (Chichester, 1982), pp. 128–53. Wormald, P., ‘The Age of Bede and Aethelbald’, ‘The Age of Offa and Alcuin’, and ‘The Ninth Century’, in The AngloSaxons, ed. J. Campbell (Oxford, 1982), pp. 70–159. Wormald, P., ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, Ideal and Reality in Frankish and AngloSaxon Society, ed. P. Wormald with D. Bullough and R. Collins (Oxford, 1983), pp.99–129. Wormald, P., ‘In Search of Offa’s “Law-Code”’ [1991], reprinted in (and cited from) his Legal Culture in the Early Medieval West, pp. 201–23. Wormald, P., Legal Culture in the Early Medieval West: Law as Text, Image and Experience (London, 1999). Wormald, P., The Making of English Law: King Alfred to the Twelfth Century, I: Legislation and its Limits (Oxford, 1999). Yorke, B., ‘The Vocabulary of Anglo-Saxon Overlordship’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History 2, British Archaeological Reports, British Series 92 (1981), pp.171– 200. Yorke, B., Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1990).

26

Orchestrated Violence and the ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’ Damian J. Tyler This paper examines the role of large-scale, orchestrated violence in the process of transformation that the Mercian kingship underwent between the death of Penda in c. 655 and the death of Offa in 796. It argues that the significance of large-scale violence to Mercian kingly strategies was variable. Success in war, it will be suggested, was of central importance to the kingship of Penda, but rather less so to later Mercian kings, particularly Æthelbald and Offa. This was not because the nature of war had changed, or because these later kings were more peaceable than Penda. Rather, it was because the nature of Anglo-Saxon kingship itself was changing: from hegemonal and face-to-face, to expansionist and centralizing. Central to this transformation, it will be argued, were the ideological entailments of conversion to Christianity.

power and patronage systems of the tributary groups. The relationship is essentially a personal one between two individuals, and had to be re-negotiated on the death of either party. This kind of overkingship seems to have been typical of unequal Anglo-Saxon inter-kingship relations before the mid-seventh century. In pre-Christian England a powerful king had to be a hegemon; he needed other kings because, lacking a literate administrative infrastructure, ‘government’ was necessarily based on personal relationships and face-toface dealings. One person can only interact with a finite number of others, and so an early Anglo-Saxon king could not personally supervise a very large territory.5 Thus the existence of overkingship presupposed the existence, and safeguarded the positions, of other kings: inferior in status but equally regal. Penda grew up and achieved power in this traditional political milieu, and though certainly flexible, for example in his ethnic positioning,6 it can be argued that he was essentially conservative in outlook. Given his conceptual background, it seems probable that Penda would have visualized his position as a great king in terms of making other kings tributary to himself; the notion of eliminating those kings and incorporating their peoples into a large, centralized ‘Greater Mercia’ would have been alien to his world picture.

Between c. 642 and c. 655 the Mercian king Penda was the most successful ruler in southern Britain, wielding imperium over many other kings.1 This imperium2 was hegemonal in nature; Penda entered into mutually beneficial, if unequal, relationships with other, less powerful kings. As a political system Penda’s overkingship was essentially made up of numerous smaller units, loosely tied together. The junior partners in these relationships provided Penda with tribute, were probably obliged to attend his court periodically,3 and added their warbands to his when he attacked other groups. In return, Penda provided the tributary kings with protection and perhaps also with access to status-enhancing luxury goods. The ‘Kentish’ material found in the seventh-century Peak district barrow burials provides a possible example of this process.4 There is little to suggest that this kind of hegemony undermined the positions of the tributary kings within their own kingships. In so far as we can tell, the overking does not seem to have participated in the internal

Though Penda was more than the demonic warlord depicted by Bede, he does appear to have been an aggressive ruler and violence seems to have been a key factor in his career. His emergence as king of the Mercians was a function of his alliance with Cadwallon, king of Gwynedd, in the latter’s attack on the Northumbrian Edwin.7 He was catapulted into the role of overking by his destruction of Oswald at Maserfelth,8 and his defeat and death at the hands of Oswald’s brother Oswiu led to the temporary transfer of the Mercian overkingship to the rival dynasty.9 In addition to these events, Penda’s reign saw him campaigning repeatedly, and his belligerence was directed at several groups – for example the West Saxons,10 the East Angles11 and the Bernicians.12 Even by seventh-century standards Penda seems to have been an unusually violent king. The violence may represent an escalation of a traditional strategy in reaction to the new types of political manoeuvring which sponsorship of Christian clerics was providing for his rivals, notably the Bernicians, Oswald and Oswiu.13

1

The characterization of Penda’s kingship given here derives from my doctoral research, undertaken at the University of Manchester 1998-2001. Considering his central role in the politics of southern Britain in the midseventh century Penda is curiously neglected in the modern literature, though there is an insightful study by Nicholas Brooks, ‘The formation of the Mercian kingdom’. On Anglo-Saxon overkingship in general, see, inter alia, John, ‘“Orbis Britanniae” and the Anglo-Saxon Kings’, Wormald, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas, and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’; Yorke, ‘The Vocabulary of Anglo-Saxon Overlordship’, passim, esp. pp. 177-78; Fanning, ‘Bede, Imperium, and the Bretwaldas’, Dumville, ‘The terminology of overkingship in early Anglo-Saxon England’. 2 Bede, in the Historia Ecclesiastica, does not use the word imperium of Penda’s kingship, but this omission can be attributed to Bede’s hostility: the Mercian king’s pre-eminence appears to have been at least as great as that of the kings whom Bede, in HE, II.5, does describe as wielding imperium. 3 Though there is no direct evidence that Penda’s tributaries were required to attend his court, visits of this kind do seem to have been a feature of early Anglo-Saxon overkingship; King Rædwald of the East Angles spent time at the court of Æthelberht, Sigeberht, king of the East Saxons, visited Oswiu ‘frequently’, and the South Saxon king Æthelwalh attended the court of Wulfhere; Bede, HE, II.15; II.22; IV.23. 4 Fowler, ‘The Anglian Settlement of the Derbyshire-Staffordshire Peak District’, at p. 140. On the Pecsæte see also Ozanne, ‘The Peak-Dwellers’; Loveluck, ‘Acculturation, migration and exchange: the formation of an Anglo-Saxon society in the English Peak District, 400-700 A.D.’. Nicholas Higham suggests a similar origin for this material, but sees it emanating from the court of a Northumbrian overking, not a Mercian: see, An English Empire: Bede and the early Anglo-Saxon kings, p. 96.

5

Charles-Edwards, ‘Early medieval kingships in the British Isles’, passim. For an interesting consideration of Penda’s ethnic positioning, see Brooks, ‘Formation of the Mercian Kingdom’, pp. 164-70. 7 Bede, HE, II.20. 8 Bede, HE, III.9. 9 Bede, HE, III.24. 10 Bede, HE, III.7. 11 Bede, HE, III.18. 12 Bede, HE, III.16, 17, 24. 13 On the relationship between the patronage of Christian clerics by Oswald and Oswiu and their political aggrandizement, see Higham, The Convert Kings – Power and Religious Affiliation in early Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 201-75. 6

27

Orchestrated Violence and the ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’ Thus far we have largely considered generalities. In order to define these ideas more sharply, we shall now turn to a specific example of Penda’s violence. James Campbell, arguing that seventh-century Anglo-Saxon kingship was an extremely hazardous occupation, noted that of the six East Anglian kings active in the period 616 to 655, five died violently.14 In fact, three of them were killed in conflicts with Penda’s Mercians. Penda attacked the East Angles on at least two occasions; on the first killing King Ecgric and also the ex-king Sigeberht, who, according to Bede, had been brought out of monastic retirement in order to help meet the Mercian threat.15 On the second occasion, King Anna was killed.16 These events are not precisely dateable in Bede’s History, but if we can trust the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for so early a date,17 Anna died in 654.18 The following year, 655, Penda led his warband north for his final, ill-fated attack on Oswiu.19 On this expedition Penda was, famously, accompanied by thirty duces regii – thirty royal leaders. In the view of the current writer the most likely interpretation of the status of these duces is that they were rulers who had accepted Penda’s imperium and who were obliged to attend him on his campaigns. Among their number was Æthelhere, brother of Anna and the new king of the East Angles.20

encouraged more young men to seek service with the successful king, augmenting his ability to wage further wars. Finally, the fear that this kind of success could induce in other kings would have aided Penda in retaining the loyalties of his tributaries. In Penda’s wars, therefore, what has been termed the ‘primary relationship’ was by no means always between him and the groups he attacked; sometimes it was between him and those either willing or constrained to support him.24 Patterns of Mercian kingship underwent significant changes between the death of Penda and the death of Offa. There were several causal factors involved in these changes; one thinks for example of the thriving North Sea economy, and the desire of eighth-century Mercian kings to participate in that trade. Here, however, we shall concentrate on the impact of Christianity. Mercian kingship was Christianised in the second half of the seventh century, and was profoundly affected by the process. Firstly, on a mundane level, royal patronage of Christian clerics led to the development in Mercia of a literate clerisy able to supply kings with bureaucratic expertise. Secondly, and more significantly, alternatives to the traditional pattern of kingship were now available: Mercian rulers were exposed to Biblical and Roman models. As a result of these two factors, late seventh- and eighth-century Mercian kings were developing a more expansive vision of powerful kingship. This new vision was, I suggest, an important factor in the changes in patterns of kingship that were occurring at this time. The manifestations of these changes are well-known, and include such things as the grandiose royal styles affected in charters, Offa’s correspondence with Charlemagne, his minting of pennies bearing his name and image (many of them in Canterbury and East Anglia), the anointing of Ecgfrith, the attendance and/or presidency of Mercian kings at Church councils, and the promotion of Lichfield to the status of an archdiocese. These things have been discussed, and their importance argued over, ever since Sir Frank Stenton first brought them into the historical spotlight,25 but in recent years the significance which Stenton attributed to these phenomena has increasingly been called into question, for example by Patrick Wormald,26 Simon Keynes27 and David Dumville.28 Whatever relationship this kingly rhetoric bore to reality, however, the claims were being made, and they show us the ambitions of these kings and the images they wished to present. Unlike Penda, Æthelbald and Offa did not wish to be merely hegemons wielding imperium over other kings. For them, with their more expansive and sophisticated paradigm of kingship, other kings were potential rivals. To be a truly great king meant being the only king, at least within the relatively discrete world of southern England. Therefore they pursued expansionist, centralizing policies whereby the loose, hegemonal overkingship of Penda’s time was transformed into a larger, more integrated structure, which absorbed other polities. Once autonomous groups that

For the purposes of the present study this series of events has three noteworthy aspects. Firstly, the East Angles and their kings were determined to resist the ambitions of Penda. Their resistance may be attributable to a desire to regain the position held by Rædwald during the latter part of his reign.21 Secondly, however, this determination was not boundless – two Mercian attacks and three royal deaths were sufficient to persuade them of the advisability of at least temporarily accepting tributary status. Finally, despite repeated defeat by the Mercians, the East Angles nevertheless retained their kingship, and its new holder was a member of the traditional ruling lineage. Penda’s frequent aggression helped him to achieve and maintain a long-lived position of dominance. Most obviously, plunder and tribute could be gained by the use of violence – we note that before their final confrontation, Oswiu, despairing of his chances in an armed encounter, offered a large tribute to Penda.22 Thus war was an important source of wealth, and this wealth, used for gift giving, fuelled the networks of patronage that tied together systems of power and obligation.23 Success in battle also led to enhanced status and prestige, important ends in themselves to the mindset of an early medieval king, but in addition it 14

Campbell, ‘The First Christian Kings’, at p. 56. Bede, HE: III.18. Bede, ibid. 17 On the problems of using the Chronicle as a source for the seventh century, see Tyler, ‘Bede, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, and Early West Saxon Kingship’. 18 ASC: A, s.a. 654. 19 Bede, HE: III.24. 20 Bede, ibid. 21 Higham, English Empire, p. 208. 22 Higham, English Empire, p. 208. 23 See Pauline Stafford’s comments on the role of tribute taking and redistribution in the construction of early Mercian overkingship: Stafford, The East Midlands in the Early Middle Ages, p. 94. For comparative purposes see Timothy Reuter’s discussion of the importance of plunder and tribute to the dynamics of the Carolingian empire: Reuter, ‘Plunder and tribute in the Carolingian Empire’. 15 16

24 On the issue of primary relationships in early medieval violence, see in the first instance Halsall, ‘Violence and society in the early medieval west: an introductory survey’, at pp. 16-19. 25 Stenton, ‘The Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’. 26 Wormald, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’, passim. 27 Keynes, ‘The British Isles: (a) England, 700–900’, passim. 28 Dumville, ‘Terminology’, esp. pp. 345-6.

28

Damian Tyler part of his own core kingdom46 but his death in 796 triggered an anti-Mercian reaction. During Offa’s lifetime a number of Kentish noblemen had been exiles in Frankia. Probably among this group was Eadberht Præn, a member of the native Kentish ruling lineage.47 Returning to Kent, Eadberht led an anti-Mercian uprising and succeeded in maintaining himself as king until 798, when he was defeated and imprisoned by Cenwulf, the Mercian king.48 From then until the 820s Kent was controlled by Mercian kings, at first as a subkingship ruled by Cenwulf’s brother Cuthred, from 807 subject to direct Mercian rule. It is possible that there was a brief resurgence of Kentish autonomy in 823,49 but in 825 Kent came under the control of the West Saxon king Ecgberht.50

were subsumed into Mercia during the course of the lateseventh and eighth centuries include the Hwicce, the numerous Middle Anglian peoples, the Lindissi, the Magonsæte and possibly also the Wrocensæte. In pursuing this expansionist, centralizing agenda, these late Mercian rulers found violence and the threat of violence a much less useful tool than had Penda. This is not to suggest that they did not engage in it; Penda’s son Wulfhere campaigned against the West Saxons29 and the Northumbrians,30 Wulfhere’s brother Æthelred ravaged Kent31 and defeated the Northumbrians at the Trent,,32 Æthelbald fought against the Northumbrians,33 the Welsh34 and the West Saxons,35 and Offa against the Welsh,36 the Cantware37 and the West Saxons.38

From this case study it seems that Offa’s reign marked a major change in the policies of Mercian kings towards Kent. Whereas Æthelbald had been content with an acknowledgement of his superiority, Offa and Cenwulf desired to make Kent a part of their own patrimonies and to take direct control of its ports, mint and archdiocese.51 In attempting to do so they relied heavily on armed force: they ruled from a distance,52 and their control of Kent ultimately rested on coercion and the threat of violence. Despite the best efforts of Mercian kings over six decades, however, Kentish particularism was unreduced. Thus while violence probably continued to provide later Mercian kings with the same kinds of advantages as it had Penda, it was nevertheless a significantly less functional method of achieving their enhanced political objectives. There are, I suggest, a number of distinct though intimately interconnected reasons for this contrast. One is the nature of early Anglo-Saxon warfare, a second is the robustness of regional particularism, a third is the nature of the Anglo-Saxon élite power and wealth systems.

Not only did these kings make war, more often than not they were successful in actual conflict. Nevertheless, those groups whom they attacked – the Northumbrians, the West Saxons, the Welsh kingships and Cantware – were not permanently incorporated into ‘Greater Mercia’. That this was at least sometimes the intention seems clear from the Kentish experience. The outlines of Mercian/Kentish relations in the second half of the eighth century and the first quarter of the ninth are well known, though none of us know as much of the detail as we might wish. The relationship between the two groups has been insightfully discussed by Nicholas Brooks,39 and further illuminated by Simon Keynes.40 Although the superiority of the Mercian king Æthelbald was acknowledged by Kentish kings, he does not seem to have actively interfered in internal Kentish patronage networks.41 By contrast, Offa and after him Cenwulf made serious, long-term attempts to transform Kent into a Mercian province. In 764 we meet Offa in Canterbury, surrounded by a large Mercian retinue, reissuing in his own name to the bishop of Rochester lands previously granted by the Kentish king Sigered.42 From then until the mid 770s, Kent was controlled by native kings, though ones who accepted Offa’s superior rights over patronage. In 776 the Mercians and the Cantware came into conflict at Otford.43 Frank Stenton postulated this as a Mercian defeat, which led to the Cantware temporarily regaining their independence,44 and as in 778 and 779 we find the Kentish king Ecgberht issuing charters with no reference to Offa,45 this seems a reasonable inference. It is unclear how long this period of Kentish autonomy continued, but by 785 Offa was back in control. For the rest of his life Offa appears to have treated Kent as if

There is much that we do not know about Anglo-Saxon warfare. This is partly because this aspect of early English society is somewhat neglected in the modern literature.53 Even if this were not the case, however, many issues would necessarily still be moot, as we do not have sufficient data to answer them confidently. The relationship between land tenure and fyrd service is unclear, and any consideration of this issue requires an examination of early land tenure systems and the nature of folcland, one of the longest running and most contentious debates in Anglo-Saxon 46

Brooks, Early History, pp. 113-4. An individual named Odbert, who had taken refuge from Offa in Frankia, is referred to in a letter of Charlemagne to Offa: Dümmler, 100; EHD, 197. For the association with Eadbert Præn see Brooks, Early History, p. 114. 48 ASC: A, s.a. 794 [recte 796], 796 [recte 798]. 49 From 823 to 825 Kent seems to have been controlled by a King Baldred. It is not clear whether this individual should be seen as a native, or as a Mercian prince: Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, p. 32. 50 ASC: A and E, s.a. 823 [recte 825]. 51 Keynes, ‘The control of Kent’, p. 112. 52 Keynes, ‘The control of Kent’, pp. 119-20. 53 In 1989 Sonia Chadwick Hawkes noted that modern Anglo-Saxon scholarship, by marginalizing an activity which the surviving sources suggest was of central importance to Anglo-Saxon élites, obscures rather than illuminates the social systems those élites operated in; Hawkes, ‘Weapons and Warfare in Anglo-Saxon England: An Introduction’, at p.1. Despite the passage of fifteen years, it could be argued that Hawkes’s comment still has much validity. 47

29

ASC: A and E, s.a. 661, 675. 30 VW, XXI. 31 Bede, HE: IV.12. 32 Bede, ibid. 33 Bedae Continuatio, HE, pp 572-7, s.a. 740. 34 ASC: A and E, s.a. 743. 35 ASC. A and E, s.a. 733, 752. 36 AC: s.a. 778, 784. 37 ASC: A, s.a. 773 [recte 776], E, s.a. 774 [recte 776]. 38 ASC. A and E, s.a. 777 [recte 779]. 39 Brooks, The Early History of the Church of Canterbury: Christ Church from 597 to 1066, pp. 111-36. 40 Keynes, ‘The control of Kent in the ninth century’, at pp. 112-20. 41 Brooks, Early History, pp. 111-12. 42 CS 195; S 105. 43 ASC A, s.a. 773 [recte 776, E, s.a. 774 [recte 776]. 44 Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 207. 45 CS 227, 228; S 35, 36.

29

Orchestrated Violence and the ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’ studies.54 A related problem is the issue of who was obliged to provide service of this kind. We do not know if there were any customs governing the frequency with which an AngloSaxon king could demand the services of his milites, or of the duration of that service. Despite these problems there are some relatively uncontroversial things that we can say. Firstly, kings did not have a monopoly on the means of engaging in war; access to this form of coercive power was widely disseminated among the élites. Secondly, early medieval kings were not in a position to support large-scale, full-time armies. The core of a king’s forces on a given expedition would be made up of members of his household, the young men of his comitatus, but the bulk would probably have consisted of the élites of the kingship and their own retinues. In addition, an overking would have access to the warbands of his tributaries. An army of this kind could be gathered together for a particular purpose, and might be large and powerful, but it could not be kept in the field for any great length of time.

Kentish élites to pay tribute, but it was not sufficient to reconcile them to losing the advantages they accrued by having their own king. These élites, as we have seen, had access to the resources necessary to make war, and when the opportunity to do so arose were able to break free from Mercian control. The absorption of one polity by another therefore required other strategies than the crude use of armed force. One such strategy was for the more powerful king effectively to himself become the local king; to maintain existing networks of power and patronage and to work with the local élites in much the same way as had the native kings. This is essentially the policy that Simon Keynes suggested the ninthcentury West Saxon kings successfully pursued in Kent.56 Another strategy, perhaps more difficult to achieve but also ultimately more beneficial to the powerful king, was to pursue policies which had the effect of undermining the relationships between local kings and local élites, and of persuading the latter that it was in their own best interests to become part of a wider, supra-regional political community, making the local kings redundant. Strategies such as this were effectively undertaken by late seventh- and eighthcentury Mercian kings with regard to the Hwicce, the Magonsæte, the Middle Anglian peoples and the Lindissi.57 They were less successful in applying them to the East Angles, the West Saxons and the Cantware.

With an aggressive potential of this kind, a powerful king could achieve much. He could defeat other rulers and/or ravage their peoples’ territories, and this might well persuade both these and other less powerful kings and their supporters that it was politic to pay tribute and enter into a dependent relationship. In this way Penda was able to build up a large, powerful confederation that was essentially comprised of numerous, largely autonomous polities, loosely tied to himself.

Conclusions In conclusion it seems that large-scale, orchestrated violence was part of the political stock-in-trade of most pre-Viking Mercian kings, including Æthelbald and Offa. This is unsurprising – most subsequent European political regimes have numbered war among the potential strategies available to them. Violence therefore was always an option, but its significance varied greatly. For Penda and his hegomonal imperium it was a key ingredient of political success. For later rulers, especially Æthelbald and Offa, it was becoming both less functional and less central. These kings were developing new, larger visions of their functions, and exploited these novel ideas, and the practical and ideological talents of the clerics who supplied them, to pursue more subtle, more complex and, most significantly, more invasive policies towards other kingships. Violence, and the threat of violence, was less adept at satisfying the ambitions of these kings.

Thus organized violence could do some things for an early Anglo-Saxon king, but there were some things that it could not do. Despite their centralizing policies and quasi-imperial rhetoric, Æthelbald and Offa, unlike the Romans, could not impose a permanent military government on defeated groups; they did not have the resources, and their kingships did not have the socio-economic infrastructures, necessary to ‘annex’ territory, or to ‘occupy’ it. After a campaign the vast majority of the victorious army necessarily returned to their homes. Thus, as we have seen, the Mercian kings could defeat the Cantware in battle, but they were not ultimately to succeed in transforming Kent into a province of ‘Greater Mercia’. Regional particularism was strong because it was generally in the interests of local élites to have a local king. A king conveniently nearby provided easy access to royal patronage.55 Thus the loss of a battle or two might induce the

The final conclusion of this paper relates to the perennially recurring issue of the political unification of England. Frank Stenton saw the period of Mercian supremacy as a vital stage in the process.58 More recent scholars have tended to

54 For some of the more significant milestones in the development of this debate, see Vinogradoff, ‘Folkland’; Maitland, ‘England Before the Conquest’; Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 301-14; Stenton, Latin Charters of the Anglo-Saxon Period, esp. pp.56-60; John, Land Tenure in Early England: A Discussion of Some Problems, pp. 64-127; CharlesEdwards, ‘The Distinction Between Land and Moveable Wealth in AngloSaxon England’; Wormald, Bede and the conversion of England – the charter evidence; Abels, Lordship and Military Obligation in Anglo-Saxon England, esp. pp. 11-42. This literature can be divided into two main groups: those writers who see folcland as essentially hereditary, family land held by customary folkright, and those who see it as identical with loanland – royal land granted on precarious tenure for a single lifetime. Amongst the former are Paul Vinogradoff and, more recently, Patrick Wormald. The latter school included Eric John and Richard Abels. 55 In 622, for example, the Frankish king Chlothar II, under whom the Regnum Francorum had been united since 613, sent his son Dagobert to rule over the Austrasians, and it has been suggested that he did so at the request

of the Austrasians themselves, who felt that the kingdom was too large, and the royal court in Neustria too far away; James, The Franks, p. 233, citing Wallace-Hadrill, The Fourth Book of the Chronicle of Fredegar p. 47. 56 Keynes, ‘The control of Kent’, passim. 57 It could be argued that Mercian control of Lindsey was achieved by violence. Certainly the late seventh-century conflicts between the Mercian and Northumbrian kingships seem to have, at least in part, been the result of competition over Lindsey; Stafford, East Midlands, p. 97; Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, p. 105. One notes, however, that the issue was not whether or not the Lindissi should be tributary, but to whom they should pay tribute. There is nothing in the extant record to suggest that Mercian kings used violence against the Lindissi themselves. 58 Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 236.

30

Damian Tyler question this interpretation; Patrick Wormald, for example, argues that tenth-century unification had little if anything to do with pre-Viking Anglo-Saxon overkingship.59 Whilst Wormald’s argument has much to commend it, in the light of the above study it could be suggested that the major changes in the nature and patterning of Anglo-Saxon kingship, the ones which made later political unity feasible, occurred in the seventh century, with the Christianisation of the world pictures of English kings.

VW, 20; HE, IV.12 – c. 673 – 675: Wulfhere, at the head of a large confederation of southern English kingships, attacks the Northumbrians, hoping to make them tributary. Wulfhere defeated, tribute levied form the Mercians instead. ASC A and E, sub anno 675: Wulfhere in conflict with West Saxon king Æscwine. Æthelred, 675–704 HE, IV.12 – 676: Æthelred devastates Kent. HE, IV.21 – 679: The Mercians defeat the Northumbrians at the Trent.

Appendix Listed below in (approximately) chronological order are instances of large-scale, externally-focused Mercian violence between 633 and 820 approximately, recorded in Bede’s Historia Ecclesiastica (HE) and its continuations (Bedae Continuatio), Stephen’s Vita Wilfridi (VW), the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (ASC), and the Annales Cambriae (AC).

Æthelbald, 716–757 ASC A and E, sub anno 733: Æthelbald captures Somerton, Somerset. Bedae Continuatio, sub anno 740: Northumbria.

ASC A and E, sub anno 743: In association with Cuthred, king of the West Saxons, Æthelbald campaigns against the Welsh.

Penda, 633–655 HE II.20 – 633: In alliance with Cadwallon, king of Gwynedd, Penda attacks Northumbria. King Edwin killed. Penda becomes king of the Mercians.

ASC A and E, sub anno 752: Conflict between Cuthred and Æthelbald.

HE III.7: Cenwalh, king of the West Saxons, repudiates his wife, Penda’s sister, and is driven from Wessex by Penda. Undatable in HE; ASC A dates to 645.

Offa, 757–796 AC, sub anno 760: Conflict between the Britons and the Saxons at Hereford.

HE III.9 – 642: Penda’s Mercians defeat Oswald’s Northumbrians at Maserfelth. Penda becomes dominant king in southern Britain.

ASC A, sub anno 773 [recte776] and E, sub anno 774 [recte 776]: Mercians and Cantware in conflict at Otford, Kent. Probably a Mercian defeat.

HE III.16: Penda raids Northumbria and besieges Bamburgh. This raid took place during the reign of Oswiu and while Bishop Aidan was still alive, and so dates to 642– 651.

AC, sub anno 778: ‘The devastation of the south Britons by Offa’. ASC A and E, sub anno 777 [recte 779]: Conflict between the Mercians and the West Saxons at Benson, Oxfordshire. The area passes into the control of Offa.

HE III.17 – 651: Mercians again raid Northumbria. HE III.19: Penda attacks the East Angles. King Ecgric and ex-King Sigeberht killed. Undated in HE.

AC, sub anno 784: ‘The devastation of Britain by Offa in the summer’.

HE III.19: Again raids the East Angles, King Anna killed. Undated in HE; ASC A dates Anna’s death to 654.

Cenwulf, 796–821

HE III.24 – 655: Penda, together with thirty duces regii, campaigns in Northumbria for the last time. Defeated and killed by Oswiu’s army at Winwæd.

ASC A and E, sub anno 796 [recte 798]: Cenwulf harries Kent. Eadberht Præn captured and carried into Mercia. Kent again becomes a Mercian satellite.

Wulfhere, 658–675 ASC A and E, sub anno 661: Saxons and the Isle of Wight. 59

Æthelbald raids

AC, sub anno 816: Saxons invade Gwynedd. Wulfhere raids the West

AC, sub anno 818: ‘Cenwulf devastated the Dyfed region’.

Wormald, ‘Engla Lond: the making of an allegiance’, passim.

31

Orchestrated Violence and the ‘Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’

Abbreviations

Dumville, D. N., ‘The Terminology of overkingship in early Anglo-Saxon England’, in J. Hines, ed., The Anglo-Saxons from the Migration Period to the Eighth century. An Ethnographic Perspective (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 345-65.

AC Annales Cambriae in Morris, J., ed. and trs., Nennius: British History and the Welsh Annals (Chichester, 1980). ASC The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle in Plummer, C., ed., Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, with Supplementary extracts from the Others. A Revised Text on the Basis of an Edition by John Earle, 2 vols (Oxford, 1892/9), revised imprint by D Whitelock (Oxford, 1952). Translated by Swanton, M., ed., The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (London, 1996).

Fanning, S., ‘Bede, Imperium, and the Bretwaldas’, Speculum 66 (1991), pp. 1-26.

Bede, HE Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, ed and trs. B.Colgrave and R.A.B.Mynors (Oxford, 1969).

Halsall, G., ‘Violence and society in the early medieval west: an introductory survey’, in G. Halsall, ed., Violence and Society in the Early Medieval West (Woodbridge, 1998), pp. 1-45.

Bedae Continuatio above, pp. 572-5.

Fowler, K. J., ‘The Anglian Settlement of the DerbyshireStaffordshire Peak District’, Journal of the Derbyshire Archaeological and Natural History Society 74 (1954), pp. 134-51.

In Colgrave and Mynors, as

Hawkes, S. C., ‘Weapons and Warfare in Anglo-Saxon England: an Introduction’, in S. C. Hawkes, Weapons and Warfare in Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1989), pp. 1-11.

CS Birch, W. de Gray, ed., Cartularium Saxonicum, 3 vols (London, 1885-93), vol. I.

Higham, N. J., An English Empire: Bede and the early Anglo-Saxon kings (Manchester, 1995).

Dümmler Dümmler, E., ed., Alcuini sive Albini epistolae, Monumenta Germaniae Historica Epist. 4, [Epist. Karol. Aevi 2] (Berlin, 1895).

Higham, N. J., The Convert Kings: Power and Religious Affiliation in Early Anglo-Saxon England (Manchester, 1997).

EHD English Historical Documents I c.500-1042, ed., D. Whitelock (London, 1955).

James, E., The Franks (Oxford, 1988).

S Anglo-Saxon Charters: An Annotated List and Bibliography, ed., P.H.Sawyer (London, 1968).

John, E., ‘“Orbis Britanniae” and the Anglo-Saxon Kings’, in E. John, Orbis Britanniae and Other Studies (Leicester, 1966), pp. 1-63.

VW The Life of Bishop Wilfrid by Eddius Stephanus, ed and trs. B.Colgrave (Cambridge, 1927).

John, E., Land Tenure in Early England. A Discussion of Some Problems (Leicester, 1964). Keynes, S., ‘The control of Kent in the ninth century’, Early Medieval Europe 2.2 (1993), pp. 111-31.

Bibliography Abels, R., Lordship and Military Obligation in Anglo-Saxon England (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1988).

Keynes, S, ‘The British Isles: (a) England, 700-900’, in R. McKitterick, ed., New Cambridge Medieval History, Volume II: c.700 – c.900 (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 18-42.

Brooks, N., The Early History of the Church of Canterbury: Christ Church from 597 to 1066 (Leicester, 1984).

Loveluck, C. P., ‘Acculturation, migration and exchange: the formation of an Anglo-Saxon society in the English Peak District, 400-700 A.D.’, in J. Bintiff and H. Hererow, eds, Europe Between Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages: Recent Archaeological and Historical Research in Western and Southern Europe, BAR, International Series 617 (1995), pp. 84-98.

Brooks, N., ‘The formation of the Mercian kingdom’ in S. Bassett, ed., The Origins of Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms (Leicester, 1989), pp. 159-70. Campbell, J., ‘The First Christian Kings’ in J. Campbell, ed., The Anglo-Saxons (Harmondsworth, 1982), pp. 45-69.

Maitland, F., ‘England Before the Conquest’, in F. Maitland, Domesday Book and Beyond: Three Essays in the Early History of England (Cambridge, 1897), pp. 220-356.

Charles-Edwards, T., ‘The Distinction between Land and Moveable Wealth in Anglo-Saxon England’, in P. H. Sawyer, ed., English Medieval Settlement (London, 1979), pp. 97-104.

Ozanne, A., ‘The Peak-Dwellers’, Medieval Archaeology 6 (1962), pp. 15-52.

Charles-Edwards, T., ‘Early medieval kingships in the British Isles’, in S. Bassett, ed., Origins of Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms (Leicester, 1989), pp. 28-39. 32

Damian Tyler Reuter, T., ‘Plunder and tribute in the Carolingian empire’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 35 (1985), pp. 75-94. Stafford, P., The East Midlands in the Early Middle Ages (Leicester, 1985). Stenton, F. M., Latin Charters of the Anglo-Saxon Period (Oxford, 1955). Stenton, F. M., ‘The Supremacy of the Mercian Kings’, English Historical Review 33 (1918), pp. 433-52. Stenton, F. M., Anglo-Saxon England (3rd edition, Oxford, 1971). Tyler, D. J., ‘Bede, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the Early West Saxon Kingship’, Southern History 19 (1997), pp. 1-23. Vinogradoff, P., ‘Folkland’, English Historical Review 8 (1893), pp. 1-17. Wallace-Hadrill, J.M., ed. and trs., The Fourth Book of the Chronicle of Fredegar (London, 1960). Wormald, P., ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas, and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum’ in P. Wormald, D. Bullough and R. Collins, ed., Ideal and Reality in Frankish and Anglo-Saxon Society: Studies Presented to J. M. Wallace-Hadrill (Oxford, 1983), pp. 99-129. Wormald, P., Bede and the conversion of England: the charter evidence (Jarrow Lecture, 1984). Wormald, P., ‘Engla Lond: the making of an allegiance’, Journal of Historical Sociology 7 (1994), pp. 1-24. Yorke, B., ‘The Vocabulary of Anglo-Saxon Overlordship’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History 2 (1981), pp. 177-200. Yorke, B., Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1990).

33

Onuist son of Uurguist: tyrannus carnifex or a David for the Picts? Alex Woolf I find myself in a somewhat unenviable position. When asked by the organisers to contribute to the conference this volume sprang from, I thought that it would be an ideal opportunity to produce a paper about one of the most powerful kings in eighth century Britain, Onuist son of Uurguist, king of the Picts from 729 until his death in 761. In an early flyer for the conference David Hill advertised my contribution as being about ‘a Pictish king of whom I have never heard and whose name I have forgotten but who is apparently very important’. David’s ignorance in this matter hardly surprised me, though his willingness to admit to it was refreshingly candid. Pictish kings are not well known to scholars, beyond a handful of Scottish specialists, and are, I suspect, generally thought to have been extremely uncivilised characters about whom little can be known and less said. I therefore felt myself relatively safe, in proposing to present the career of one of the two or three major figures to rule Pictavia, from the danger of duplicating the work of other scholars. Imagine my horror when earlier this year (2000) Professor Charles-Edwards published an analysis of Onuist’s career, and when this paper was followed a few months later by another dealing with my subject, by Katherine Forsyth.1

development of the emporia, a more cautious examination of the distribution maps will indicate that it is not the ‘Englishspeaking’ zone which is defined by these features in the later seventh and eighth centuries but a much more restricted region along the coast, between the Tees and the Hampshire Avon.3 Indeed it is not until the latter part of Offa’s reign that either Mercia or Northumbria begin to adopt something approaching a truly monetarised economy. This can be seen most clearly in the contrast between Northumbrian sceatta, dating from before c.790, confined almost entirely to Deira east of the Pennines and of relatively high silver content, and the later styccan, found across Deira and Bernicia and almost worthless in bullion terms.4 Eighth-century England was hardly more monetarised than its Celtic neighbours, particularly if we look away from the east coast to regions like ‘that land which was first called Mercia’. Similarly, the great centres of population and production in the eighth century, throughout the Insular World, were the richer monasteries rather than commercial or administrative urban centres we might call towns. If we look beyond language for the features that have traditionally defined the civilisation of the Early Christian Celts we shall find most of them amongst the Early Christian English.

On another level I should not have been surprised that in the year 2000 Onuist son of Uurguist should become a figure of note. The indications seem to be that the traditional division between students of Anglo-Saxon England and those of the early medieval Celtic-speaking peoples is finally beginning to break down. The rebirth of what we can term ‘Early Insular History’ springs from a number of factors both scholarly and political. In Ireland the dying-off of the civil war generation and the new economic boom have combined to produce a generation of scholars who are not so concerned always to stress the independence of the native tradition from British influence and contacts. At the same time research in all the Celtic-speaking countries has increasingly shown that the common Celtic heritage of these societies in the early middle ages was of very little importance compared to a whole series of binary relationships that linked various regions in Britain and Ireland with one another. Certainly medieval writers do not seem to have believed the Gaels to be any more closely ‘related’ to the Britons than to the Saxons, and in northern Britain the material culture of Picts, Britons and Bernicians seems to have been remarkably closely connected.2 Within mainstream Anglo-Saxon studies it is becoming increasingly recognised that the Vorsprung durch Technik that separated southern England qualitatively from its northern and western neighbours was largely a phenomenon of the Æthelwulfing hegemony, originating in the later ninth century. Whilst it might be argued that pre-Viking Age England was marked out from its Insular neighbours by its use of coinage and the

Within this context of Early Insular History Pictland holds a special place. The bulk of its population lived on the eastern coast of Britain in territory that was ideal for grain production, factors it shares with some of the English kingdoms but with none of the other Celtic-speaking provinces. Further, its most populous and easily accessible border region marched with Bernicia, perhaps the neighbour with which it had the most sustained contact from the midseventh century onwards. The Picts were in origins Britons but, during the period of Roman imperium over Britain, Romano-British culture had come to be identified with Britishness and on the withdrawal of the Romans a cultural and linguistic boundary had become established somewhere in the region of the Forth. To its south were the Britons, exhibiting the hybrid Romance and Celtic language and culture we call Welsh, and to its north were the Picts, a more traditionally Celtic population. While we tend to talk of ‘the Pictish kingdom’ and of ‘kings of the Picts’, what is meant by these terms has rarely been discussed. There is a tacit assumption, based upon the existence of a king-list, attached to the early portion of some versions of the lists of Scottish kings descended from Cináed mac Ailpín, that a unified polity, albeit perhaps an overkingdom, existed from an early period.5 It is true that Irish and Northumbrian chronicles speak of ‘kings of the Picts’ but one must also remember that both speak of ‘kings of the Britons’, sometimes referring to rulers of Dumbarton and

1

Charles-Edwards, ‘The Continuation of Bede’, s.a. 750, pp. 137-45, and Forsyth, ‘Evidence of a lost Pictish source’ pp. 19-34. 2 This is particularly noteworthy in the field of art history, see for example Spearman and Higgitt, The Age of Migrating Ideas: Early Medieval Art in Northern Britain and Ireland.

3

See Hill, ‘The Eighth-century Urban Landscape’, below, in this volume. Pirie, ‘Finds of ‘sceattas’ and ‘stycas’ of Northumbria’, pp. 67-90. 5 Anderson, Kings and Kingship in Early Scotland remains the best introduction to the texts and contexts of the Pictish king-lists. 4

35

Onuist son of Uurguist: tyrannus carnifex or a David for the Picts? which may suggest that he had regrown his hair.13 This Drest seems to have shared the kingship with another man whom the Gaelic sources call Alpín (a name derived ultimately from OE ‘Ælfwine’). In 728 we hear of this Alpín being defeated in two battles by Onuist.14 According to the Annals of Tigernach the result of this conflict was that Naiton son of Derile was restored to the kingship, but the following year conflict broke out between Onuist’s familia and Naiton’s exactatores.15 Later that same year Onuist slew Drest in battle.16 From this time on Onuist appears as king of the Picts until his death in 761.

sometimes to kings of Gwynedd without drawing any distinction.6 Irish chronicles also refer to almost all preViking Age Anglo-Saxon kings as ‘kings of the Saxons’, regardless of their province of origin.7 If the Picts did indeed possess a single kingship dominating almost all of Scotland north of the Forth and representing all ethnic Picts it would make them very precocious in Insular terms. By the middle of the ninth century, however, a unified kingdom does seem to have existed, but by then this would not be out of step with the way in which the Mercians transformed the loose hegemony of the Age of Wulfhere into the monopoly on kingship betwixt Thames and Humber of the Age of Offa and Coinwulf. It is important to establish at what point this process of unification began. The surviving versions of the Pictish king-list seem to derive from a prototype produced c.724.8 This would seem to suggest that the ninth-century unified kingdom derived from some polity which was in existence for at least a generation or so before this date, and which wished to project itself back into antiquity. Some at least of the kings in this list, for example Bredei son of Beli (672-93), were known to contemporary Gaelic chroniclers as kings of Fortriu,9 an Irish form of a territorial name derived from the British tribal name Verturiones,10 and it thus seems reasonable to assume that Fortriu, probably *Uerter in Pictish, played a role in the development of the Pictish kingdom analogous to that played by ‘that land which was first called Mercia’ on the upper and middle Trent. I hope, elsewhere, to argue that the origins of Fortriu’s dominant position within Pictavia lay in her proximity to Bernicia and in the appropriation, following the battle of Nechtansmere, of tributary structures and mechanisms of over-lordship learned from the kings of Bamburgh.11 For the present it is sufficient to say that it is in the period between rise of Bredei son of Beli and the rapprochement with Northumbria under Naiton son of Derile (706-24) that we can truly begin to see the emergence of a Pictish kingdom dominating much of northern Britain. By the end of this period Fortriu had become fully integrated into the Christian Commonwealth with its kings courting the great churchmen of the day such as Adomnán of Iona and Ceolfrith of Monkwearmouth and enforcing their control, or influence at least, as far north as Orkney.

In attempting to unravel these events it is interesting to note that as early as 731 Onuist’s son Bredei was leading men in battle, so it is clear that Onuist was already in his middle years by the time he appears on the scene.17 It seems likely that his first recorded actions marked him out as a partisan of the aged Naiton but that competition between his own warband and that of his lord, whom he had restored to power, led to a breakdown in relations between the two. It is easily forgotten that early medieval kings were as often driven by their retinues as followed by them – a lesson Æthelbald of Mercia seems to have failed to learn.18 It may well be that this hesitation about seizing the kingship for himself suggests that Onuist himself had, if any, only a somewhat distant claim to the throne. In this way we might compare the interlude between Naiton’s deposition and Onuist’s assumption of the royal title with the reign of Beornred in Mercia and his eventual replacement by Offa who was four generations removed, in the direct line, from any previous king.19 Onuist’s reign is marked out by continuous, and frequently successful, warfare. The 730s were taken up by a series of campaigns against the men of Dál Riata which culminated in the ‘smiting of Dál Riata’ in 741.20 Charles-Edwards suggests that Onuist may have taken advantage of the changing patterns of power in the north of Ireland in this period, during which the Cenél Conaill branch of the Uí Néill, the branch from which the abbots of Iona had traditionally been drawn, lost their supremacy in the north to their by now distant cousins of Cenél nEógain, just as amongst the southern Uí Néill the Síl nÁedo Sláine of Brega had lost their supremacy to Clann Cholmáin of Mide. The argument runs that either Onuist was in alliance with Áed Allán mac Fergaile, the Cenél nEógain king of Ailech, or that the removal of Cenél Conaill protection simply left Dál Riata exposed to attack from across the mountains. Indeed Onuist’s own operations may have extended to the northern shores of Ireland for in 733 the Cenél Loairn ruler profaned the monastery on Tory island by dragging Onuist’s son Bredei from its sanctuary.21 In any case by 741 the conquest

It is into this world that Onuist son of Uurguist steps in 728. In 724 the ‘Philosopher King’, Naiton son of Derile, had taken the tonsure and entered monastic life.12 Whether this was by choice or not we can only speculate but two years later we are told that his successor Drest had him bound,

6

Thus, for example, AU 632.1 Cathloen regis Britonum for Cadwallon of Gwynedd and AU 642.1 Hoan rege Britonum for Owain of Dumbarton. 7 E.g. AU 704.3 Aldfrith m. Ossu sapiens, rex Saxonum for Aldfrith of Northumbria and AU 757.2 Edalbald, rex Saxonum for Æthelbald of Mercia. 8 Anderson, Kings and Kingship, p. 88. 9 E.g. AU 693.1 and AU 820.3. 10 Watson, The Celtic Placenames of Scotland, pp. 68-9. 11 In a contribution to Mercia: an Anglo-Saxon kingdom in Europe, edited by Michelle Brown and Carol Farr. 12 For the view of Naiton son of Derile as ‘Philosopher King’ see Ceolfrith’s letter to the king preserved in Bede HE, V.21; for his retirement see AT, s.a. 724.

13

AU 726.1. AU 728.4; AT 728. 15 AU 729.2. 16 AU 729.3. 17 AU 731.6. 18 Cf. Reuter, ‘Plunder and Tribute in the Carolingian Empire’, on the need of early medieval rulers to keep a constant supply of tribute available for their retinues. 19 Dumville, ‘The Anglian collection of royal genealogies and regnal lists’. 20 AU 731.6, 733.1, 734.5,6 & 7, 736.1 & 2 and 741.10. 21 AU 733.1. 14

36

Alex Woolf from the Chronicle of 766.31 When noting the death of Earnwine, for example, it notes the very day of his death (the 10th Kalends of January - December 23rd),32 which may indicate that he was memorialised at the monastery where the annal was composed. Secondly, the names of Pictish kings are given in forms closer to the original Pictish form, whereas Chron. 766 gives them in their Irish form; thus Onuist appears as Oengus in Chron. 766 and Unust in Chron. 802. This, of itself, suggests independent contacts with the Picts in the eighth century. We might also note that whereas the Chron. 766, on noting Onuist’s death, describes him as ‘a tyrannical butcher to the end of his days’, Chron. 802 refrains from judgement. Katherine Forsyth has suggested that this might indicate that a source written in Pictavia may lie behind the relevant entries in the Chron. 802, but this seems an unnecessary surmise.33 Indeed it might be safer to assume that the entries using Irish spellings in Chron. 766 derive from a textual source composed in the Gaelic-speaking world. Indeed the description of the king as a tyrannus carnifex might more easily be imagined to have come from the pen of someone in Dál Riata, perhaps at Iona, than from a Northumbrian.

of Dál Riata was complete and the line of independent kings seems to have been interrupted for a decade. At about the time of the conquest of Dál Riata we hear for the first time of conflict between Onuist and his southern neighbours, the Northumbrians. According to the main recension of the ‘Continuation of Bede’ (hereafter the Chronicle of 766), in 740, Æthelbald of Mercia ‘treacherously’ invaded Northumbria whilst king Eadberht was engaged in conflict with the Picts.22 The source of the conflict is unknown but it may be connected with the killing in the same year of the rival Northumbrian dynast Earnwine son of Eadwulf.23 The linkage between Earnwine and Onuist is suggested by a number of factors. Earnwine’s father briefly held the kingship of Northumbria on the death of Aldfrith in 705 and was the first of the Ecgwulfing dynasty to do so.24 He was expelled by the praefectus Beorhtfrith, who installed instead Aldfrith’s eight-year-old son Osred (the first minor whose rule is recorded in these islands).25 This regime was characterised by its oppression of certain segments of the aristocracy many of whom, according to Æthelwulf, author of De Abbatibus, were driven into exile.26 Beorhtfrith was also involved in conflict with king Naiton.27 The fate of Eadwulf goes unrecorded in the Northumbrian chronicles but his death, along with his paternity, was noted by the Iona chronicler in 717.28 This was the same year in which Naiton expelled the community of Iona from his kingdom. The fact that such an obscure Northumbrian dynast was commemorated in the Iona Chronicle some twelve years after his expulsion may well suggest that his exile was spent amongst the northern peoples.29 It might have been, perhaps, that Eadwulf was protected by the Picts and that his death allowed for the rapprochement between Naiton and the Northumbrians, hence the coincidence of his death with the expulsion of the Columban community. The conflict between the Picts and Northumbrians in 740 may thus have involved an attempt to insert Eadwulf’s son, Earnwine, into the kingship. If so it failed, and with fatal consequences for Earnwine.

Although much of the demonstrably Hexham material in Chron. 802 is retrospective interpolation there are some suggestions of interest from the diocese of Hexham in other annals.34 For example the recording of episcopal succession is complete only for York, the senior Northumbrian see, and for Hexham, the records for Whithorn and Lindisfarne being both incomplete. It is also noteworthy that no Lindisfarne notices are dated to the day of the month.35 It is possible that the Pictish links may also result from a Hexham provenance. We might note, at this point, that Hexham was founded by Wilfrid who returned from his second exile during Eadwulf’s short reign, and although his hagiographer, Stephen, was quick to distance his hero from a man who was widely held to be a usurper,36 it seems unlikely that this was a coincidence. Yet another hint that Hexham favoured the senior branch of the Ecgwulfings may be discerned in the events of 731 when, according to Chron. 766, king Ceolwulf was tonsured and temporarily forced into a monastery. We are nowhere told who the conspirators were but in the same year Acca, Wilfrid’s successor as bishop of Hexham, was driven out of his see. Although he did not die until 740 he was replaced as bishop in 734 by Frithuberht.37

Further light on the relations between the Picts and Northumbrians in this period may be cast by the ‘Continuation of Bede’ contained within the Historia Regum Anglorum.30 This chronicle, essentially a continuation of Bede up until 802 with additional material inserted retrospectively, some of which indicates a Hexham stage of transmission, has a number of features which mark it out

31 For a discussion of the text see Hunter Blair, ‘Some Observations on the ‘Historia Regum’ Attributed to Symeon of Durham’ especially at pp.86-99, and now Hart, ‘Byrhtferth’s Northumbrian Chronicle’. 32 This date, incidentally, explains why Earnwine’s death is ascribed to 741 in the Iona Chronicle, since the 10th Kalends of January 741 is indeed in December 740. 33 Forsyth, ‘Evidence of a lost Pictish source’. 34 The account of the translation of Acca, and probably that of Alchmund, was written after 1113, perhaps at Hexham, but perhaps by Ailred of Rievaulx who was the son of a Hexham priest. See Hunter Blair, ‘Some Observations...’, pp. 88-90. 35 Compare this absence of precise dating for Lindisfarne events with the precise dating of the death of Earnwine Eadwulfing s.a. 740. 36 VW, LIX. 37 Chron. 802. Chron. 766 gives 735 as the date of Frithuberht’s consecration.

22

This ‘Continuation of Bede’, which we might label the Chronicle of 766 after its final annal, is printed and translated in Colgrave and Mynors, Bede’s Ecclesiastical History. 23 Chron. 766 s.a. 740. 24 Vita Wilfridi (VW), LIX, AT p.129. For Eadwulf’s paternity see AU 717.2 in conjunction with AU 741.7. 25 VW, LX. 26 Campbell, De Abbatibus. 27 Chron. 766 s.a. 711. 28 AU 717.2 29 For the concept of an Iona Chronicle lying behind the north British entries in AU up to the middle of the eighth century see Bannerman, Studies in the History of Dalriada, pp. 9-26. 30 Arnold, Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia, pp. 30-66. Henceforth Chronicle of 802.

37

Onuist son of Uurguist: tyrannus carnifex or a David for the Picts? In the 740s Onuist son of Uurguist was one of the most powerful kings in Britain, indeed Charles-Edwards has suggested that he shared the imperium of the island with Æthelbald of Mercia. This suggestion is based upon his reading of the annal for 750 in Chron. 766. It is perhaps best to quote this annal in full:

It is at this point that we return to Onuist. Onuist son of Uurguist’s greatest legacy appears to have been the foundation of St Andrews. The earliest notice of a monastic foundation at this site, (known in Gaelic as Cennrigmonaid) is in the Annals of Ulster s.a. 747.10, when the death of an abbot Tuathalán (a Gaelic name, but perhaps standing for Pictish *Tutualon or British Tudwallon?) is recorded. Presumably the actual foundation of the church took place between the accession of Onuist in 729 and this date. As Barbara Yorke has pointed out, new dynastic segments, upon obtaining the kingship, were often keen to establish new cult centres associated with their kingship.38 Onuist seems to have been no exception and it is interesting to note his choice of site for his foundation, in the south-eastern corner of the kingdom, at the first good harbour in the Tay basin which shipping coming up from Northumbria would be likely to encounter. This location emphasises the interests and orientation of the Pictish kingdom in this period, a point also underlined by the new sculptural traditions of relief carving, designated Class II monuments by modern scholars, which have their closest affinities with eastern English work.39 We cannot be certain when the cult of St Andrew was first associated with Cennrigmonaid – like so much in medieval Scotland it is not mentioned before the twelfth century – but it is quite likely to be an early dedication dating from Onuist’s own time.40 It might be noted, however, that Hexham, one of the largest and most magnificent churches in Britain at the time, was also dedicated, from its foundation, to St Andrew.41 It takes little imagination to suggest that the knowledge of Pictish onomastics shown by chroniclers whose text was later interpolated by Hexham clerics, derives from the fact that ‘Cennrigmonaid’, a major church in the kingdom of Onuist and his successors, may have been a daughter house of their own diocesan centre.42 One might indeed go further and suggest that Acca himself may have sought refuge, like so many other Northumbrian exiles, in Pictavia and have been instrumental in the foundation of St Andrews.43

Anno DCCL Cuthredus rex Occidentaluium Saxonum surrexit contra Aedilbaldum regem et Oengusso. Theudorus atque Eanred obiit. Eadberth campum Cyil cum aliis regionibus suo regno adidit. Taken at face value the first sentence of this entry reads ‘Cuthred king of the West Saxons rose up against king Æthelbald and Oengus’. All scholars have agreed that the Oengus referred to must be Onuist son of Uurguist, the question is, what was his role in this sentence? Stenton could see no explanation and presumed some sort of scribal error.44 Whitelock thought this likely but presented the alternative suggestion that it ‘may mean that Angus had become an ally of the king of Mercia through fear of a common enemy, Eadberht of Northumbria’.45 Such an interpretation has some merit particularly in the light of the events of 740 alluded to above. Charles-Edwards goes further and suggests that there was a formal division of imperium at the Humber and that Æthelbald and Onuist were in some sense co-emperors.46 It is nevertheless problematic in relation to the wording of this particular annal. The event described seems to be an aggressive act by Cuthred against Æthelbald and it is hard to see why an annalist would have thought to include Onuist in the account as he might have done had the event been a joint invasion of Wessex by the two northerners. There are also textual grounds for having anxieties about this annal. The form used for the Pictish king’s name is ‘Oengus’, the Irish form, and, as we have seen with the tyrannus carnifex entry, it seems likely that this has found its way into the Northumbrian chronicle as a textual copying from a document composed in a Gaelic speaking milieu, probably in Dál Riata. It thus seems on balance that Stenton’s original judgement must be allowed to stand.

38 See Yorke, ‘Ethelbald, Offa and the Patronage of Nunneries’, in this volume. 39 Plunkett, ‘The Mercian Perspective’. 40 For the twelfth-century St Andrews origin legends, see now Broun, ‘The church of St Andrews and its foundation legend in the early twelfth century: recovering the full text of Version A of the foundation legend’ and Taylor, ‘The coming of the Augustinians to St Andrews and version B of the St Andrews foundation legend’. 41 VW, XXII. 42 Forsyth’s argument that a source written in Pictavia lies behind the spellings in Chron. 802 seems flawed in that, while the spellings of the names Unust and Cynioth are clearly better representations of Pictish Onuist and Ciniod than the gaelicized forms Oengus and Cinaed, they are not in fact Pictish spellings. What they would seem to indicate is familiarity with the sound of the names, whereas Chron. 766’s use of Irish forms indicates dependence upon a written source from the Gaelic speaking world, perhaps from Iona. The fact that ‘Anglian’ forms of Pictish names, including ‘Unust’, appear in the Durham Liber Vitae would seem to support this view. 43 This suggestion was first made by W. F Skene, ‘Notice of the early ecclesiastical settlement at St Andrews’, and has received widespread though far from universal currency since that time. It should be noted that the precise extent of Hexham’s diocese is not well attested. More work might be done on establishing this, but the dedication of the eighth-century ecclesiastical establishment at Penrith to St Andrew suggests that Cumberland may have fallen within its remit, and it is possible that Teviotdale, conspicuously absent from the lands claimed by Durham and Lindisfarne in the tenth and eleventh centuries, also formed part of this territory. For the lands of St Cuthbert, see the maps in Aird, pp. 14 and 27.

In 750, the Irish chronicles tell us, Onuist’s power began to ebb.47 This may well have been a result of the defeat and slaying of Onuist’s brother Talorgan by the Britons, also recorded in this year, and it was perhaps these events that were being recorded in the annal which became conflated with Chron. 766’s account of the rebellion of Cuthred.48 It is also perhaps to this year that we should ascribe the reestablishment of an independent king, Áed Find, in Dál Riata.49 Dominance in the North seems to have passed to Eadberht of Northumbria who, as we have seen, annexed Kyle and adjacent territories from the Britons in 750.50 Onuist still had one major foray outwith the bounds of his kingdom to make, and one which would, if my reading is 44

Stenton, ‘The supremacy of the Mercian kings’, p. 443, n.45. EHD, p. 259, n.8. 46 Charles-Edwards, ‘The Continuation of Bede’, s.a. 750. 47 Aithbe flatho Oengussa, AU 750.11. 48 AU 750.4. 49 Áed’s death is noted at AU 778.7 and he is recorded as fighting in Fortriu in AU 768.7. 50 Chron. 766. 45

38

Alex Woolf correct, bring him into much greater contact with the Mercians than he had hitherto been. Chron. 802 has a curious entry under the year 756. Again it is worth quoting in full: Anno ab incarnatione Dominica DCCLVI Eadberht rex xviii. anno regni sui, et Unust rex Pictorum, duxerunt exercitum ad urbem Alcwith [recte Alcluith]. Ibique Brittones inde conditionem receperunt, prima die mensis Augusti. Decima autem die eiusdem mensis interiit exercitus poene omnis quem duxit de Ovania ad Niwinbirig, id est novam civitatem. In the year from the Lord’s Incarnation 756, Eadberht in the eighteenth year of his reign, and Onuist king of the Picts led an army to the town of Dumbarton. And hence the Britons received terms there, on the first day of the month of August. On the tenth day of the same month, however, almost the whole army which he led from Ovania to Niwanbirig, that is the ‘new city’, perished.

some fifteen kilometres from Dumbarton, on the left bank of the Clyde, and significantly, very close to the northern end of the major Roman trunk road leading to Carlisle and points south. This brings us to the identification of Niwanbirig. If the army set out from Govan a day or two after the agreement with the Britons reached on the first of August but did not reach Niwanbirig until the tenth of the month then we should expect the two places to be a little over two hundred miles apart.55 This more or less rules out Bernicia as a site for the destruction of Eadberht’s army. If the army followed the trunk road south from Govan, however, two hundred miles would take it into Staffordshire, and there is a Newborough about fifteen kilometres north of Lichfield. An alternative interpretation of the events of 756 would be a visit by Onuist and Eadberht to Dumbarton prior to leading an expedition against Mercia. The purpose of such a visit may have been either to persuade the Britons to join them in the expedition or perhaps to extract oaths and hostages for their good behaviour whilst the two kings were in the south. The idea that Onuist was involved in an expedition against Æthelbald’s Mercia from which he very nearly failed to return finds some support in the oldest surviving version of the origin legend of St Andrews. In this account, compiled in its present form between 1093 and 1107, Ungus son of Urguist led an expedition to the southern part of the island ad campum Merc where he was surrounded by his enemies. With many of his soldiers slain he was only able to return to Pictavia through St Andrew’s intercession. In gratitude he founded the church at ‘Rigmund’ which became the caput et mater omnium ecclesiarum que sunt in regno Pictorum.56 Either strand of evidence, the tentative interpretation of the annal or the late origin legend, alone would probably not amount to much but together we can be fairly confident that it is appropriate reconstruction. Eadberht is likely to have led his army into enemy territory and Niwanbirig, with its classic Old English name, will not have been a place in the kingdoms of his northern neighbours. Equally a St Andrews scribe in c. 1100 is unlikely to have picked campum Merc at random. The later version of the origin legend relocates the battle, ‘more realistically’, on the East Lothian Tyne. In the seventh century, the Age of Penda and Cadwallon, a multiethnic chevauchée of this kind would not be out of place; would it have been so in the eighth? Thus at last the inclusion of this paper in this collection of essays can be justified. Perhaps the greatest military threat faced by Æthelbald of Mercia was a combined invasion of his territories by the Northumbrians and the Picts, perhaps accompanied by north Britons. The following year

Scholars have been divided as to the correct interpretation of this annal. The consensus is probably represented by David Kirby’s summary; ‘[i]n 756, after successfully campaigning against the Britons of Strathclyde and besieging Dumbarton at the time of the alliance with Oengus son of Forgus, king of the Picts, almost the whole of Eadberht’s army perished at Newburgh on the Tyne, perhaps at the hands of the Britons’51. Is this the most plausible explanation of the annal? That Niwanbirig is Newburgh-on-Tyne is entirely conjecture. None of the English Newburghs or Newboroughs are attested before the Norman conquest although some or all of them may have existed before this date. Newburgh-onTyne is an odd place for an otherwise unnoticed British victory, right in the heart of Bernicia. Ovania had until recently eluded identification. Alan MacQuarrie hazarded the guess that it might represent a place on either one of the Lanarkshire or West Lothian river Avons, but this is orthographically unlikely and would also be an odd starting point for a march.52 One might presume a site nearer to Dumbarton as the starting point for a march south following a visit to that citadel. Andrew Breeze has recently suggested that Ovania might in fact be Govan, now a post-industrial district within Glasgow but formerly the centre for one of the largest parishes in lowland Scotland and, to judge from its remarkable collection of funerary monuments, a major ecclesiastical centre at least as early as the tenth century.53 The identification of Ovania with Govan has been welcomed by scholars working in the field and Breeze’s philological arguments have been reinforced by John Koch.54 Govan lies

before -o in Welsh is dropped in several grammatical positions. Visitors to modern Wales may well be aware that whilst the word for a railway station appears in their dictionaries and phrase-books as Gorsaf the signs indicating the location of the station found in Welsh towns bear the legend Orsaf. 55 Compare Æthelstan’s march north in 934. His army was at Winchester on 28th of May and had reached Nottingham by the 7th of June, covering 150 miles in about seven days, EHD, p. 505. 56 The Latin text of this ‘A’ version of the origin legend is reproduced by Skene, Chronicles of the Picts, Chronicles of the Scots and other early memorials of Scottish history, pp. 138-40. A discussion of its provenance and transmission can be found in Broun, ‘The church of St Andrews..’. Dr Broun and Dr Taylor are currently preparing a combined critical edition of the two origin legends of St Andrews. I am grateful to Dr Broun and to Mr Arkady Hodge for discussing this with me.

51

Kirby, The Earliest English Kings, p. 150. 52 MacQuarrie, ‘The Kings of Strathclyde, c.400-1018’, pp. 1-19. 53 For Breeze’s identification see Breeze, ‘Symeon of Durham’s annal for 756 and Govan, Scotland’, and cited in T. Clancy, ‘Govan, the Name, Again’. For the funerary monuments see Ritchie, Govan and its early medieval sculpture, and Driscoll, ‘Church archaeology in Glasgow and the kingdom of Strathclyde’. 54 For the acceptance of the identification see Clancy ‘Govan...’ and Forsyth ‘Pictish source…’. For the philology see Koch’s appendix to Forsyth’s paper, pp.33-4. Forsyth and Koch argue that the absence of the initial G- in Chron. 802 suggests a Pictish written source. Whilst the Northumbrians present on this expedition may perhaps have picked up the name from their Pictish companions in arms, it should also be remembered that initial G-

39

Onuist son of Uurguist: tyrannus carnifex or a David for the Picts? Æthelbald was dead at the hands of his own household. Had his victory over the northerners been too pyrrhic, or had it indeed been a great victory, but won by someone other than the king himself? Onuist survived his trip to the Mercian plain and retained his life and his kingship until 761. He appears to have established a dynasty that was to rule in Pictavia well into the next century.57 His reign, as we have seen, was characterised by aggressive external relations, against Gaels, Saxons and Britons. Perhaps it was necessary for him to promote external conflict. As we have seen, the legitimacy of his own succession was probably in doubt and successful foreign ventures may have been the surest way to win the continuing support both of his own military following and of the Pictish nobility as a whole.58 The successful tyrant is he who allows those whom he tyrannises a share his successes. Onuist died peacefully in 761, probably at an advanced age. There is no firm record of his place of burial but it is most likely to have been at his own foundation of St Andrews, and scholars have widely associated his final resting place with the object known as the St Andrews Sarcophagus.59 A stone box-shrine rather than an actual sarcophagus, this artefact is recognised as the masterpiece of the Pictish sculptural tradition combining, as it does, native and exotic elements in seamless craftsmanship. Dating from about a generation after Onuist’s death, the shrine was built to hold the translated relics of a king. We know that it was intended for a king because the central image within its iconography is a classical representation of the Old Testament king David, who was, in the eighth century, becoming the archetype of Christian kingship.60 There is a strong likelihood that the shrine was built to house the bones of the founder of the church in which it stood, Onuist son of Uurguist. And what better figure from scripture than David to watch over Onuist, for David, like Onuist, and indeed like Offa of Mercia, was not merely a great king, but also a usurper!

57 Broun, ‘Pictish Kings 761-839: Integration with Dál Riata or Separate Development’, pp. 71-83. 58 A century later the new Gaelic king of the Picts Cináed mac Ailpín cemented his intrusive kingship with a series of campaigns against Northumbria, for which see the ‘Older Scottish Chronicle’, edited by Mrs Anderson in Kings and Kingship. 59 See various papers in S. Foster, ed., The St Andrews Sarcophagus. 60 For a full appreciation of this artefact see the various papers collected in Foster, The St Andrews Sarcophagus.

40

Alex Woolf Charles-Edwards, T. M., ‘The continuation of Bede’, in A. P. Smyth, ed., Seanchas: Studies in Early and Medieval Irish Archaeology, History and Literature in Honour of Francis John Byrne (Dublin, 2000).

Abbreviations AU The Annals of Ulster (to AD 1131), ed. S Mac Airt and G. Mac Niocaill (Dublin 1983).

Clancy, T., ‘Govan, the Name, Again’, Report of the Society of Friends of Govan Old 8 (1998), pp. 8-13.

AT The Annals of Tigernach, printed by Whitley Stokes in Revue Celtique XVI, XVII and XVIII, 1895, 96 and 97. Trs. reprinted 1993.

Driscoll, S. T., ‘Church archaeology in Glasgow and the kingdom of Strathclyde’, Innes Review 49 (1998), pp. 95114.

Chron. 766 the Continuation of Bede, printed and translated in B.Colgrave and R.A.B.Mynors, eds, Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford 1969), pp. 572-6.

Dumville, D., ‘The Anglian collection of royal genealogies and regnal lists’, Anglo-Saxon England 5 (1976), pp. 23-50.

Chron. 802 Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia, ed. T Arnold, 2 vols, Rolls Series 75 (London 1882-5).

Forsyth, K., ‘Evidence of a lost Pictish source in the Historia Regum Anglorum of Symeon of Durham’ in S. Taylor, ed., Kings, Clerics and Chronicles in Scotland 500-1297: essays in honour of Marjorie Ogilvie Anderson on the occasion of her ninetieth birthday (Dublin, 2000).

EHD English Historical Documents c.500-1042, ed. D Whitelock, 1st edition (London 1955). VW Vita Wilfridi in Eddius Stephanus. The Life of Bishop Wilfrid, ed. B Colgrave, Cambridge 1927.

Foster, S., ed., The St Andrews Sarcophagus: a Pictish Masterpiece and its International Connections (Dublin, 1998). Hart, C., ‘Byrhtferth’s Northumbrian Chronicle’, English Historical Review 97 (1982), pp. 558-82.

Bibliography

Hunter Blair, P., ‘Some Observations on the “Historia Regum” attributed to Symeon of Durham’ in N. Chadwick, ed., Celt and Saxon: Studies in the Early British Border (Cambridge, 1963).

Aird, W., St. Cuthbert and the Normans: the Church of Durham 1071-1153 (Woodbridge, 1998). Anderson, M.O., Kings and Kingship in Early Scotland (Edinburgh, 1980).

Kirby, D.P., The Earliest English Kings (London, 1991). Arnold, T., ed., Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia (London, 1885).

MacQuarrie, A., ‘The Kings of Strathclyde, c.400-1018’, in A. Grand and K. Stringer, eds, Medieval Scotland: Crown, Lordship and Community, Essays presented to G. W. S. Barrow (Edinburgh, 1993), pp. 1-19.

Bannerman, J., Studies in the History of Dalriada (Edinburgh, 1974).

Pirie, E., ‘Finds of “sceattas” and “stycas” of Northumbria’, in M. Blackburn, ed., Anglo-Saxon Monetary History: Essays in memory of Michael Dolley (Leicester, 1986).

Breeze, A., ‘Symeon of Durham’s annal for 756 and Govan, Scotland’, Nomina 22 (1999), pp. 133-7. Broun, D., ‘The church of St Andrews and its foundation legend in the early twelfth century: recovering the full text of Version A of the foundation legend’ in S. Taylor, ed., Kings, Cleric and Chronicles in Scotland 500-1207: essays in honour of Marjorie Ogilvie Anderson on the occasion of her ninetieth birthday (Dublin, 2000), pp. 108-114.

Plunkett, S. J., ‘The Mercian Perspective’, in S. Foster, ed., The St Andrews Sarcophagus: a Pictish Masterpiece and its International Connections (Dublin, 1998), pp. 202-226. Reuter, T., ‘Plunder and Tribute in the Carolingian Empire’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 35 (1985), pp. 75-94.

Broun, D., ‘Pictish Kings 761-839: Integration with Dál Riata or Separate Development’ in S. Foster, ed., The St Andrews Sarcophagus: a Pictish Masterpiece and its International Connections (Dublin, 1998), pp. 71-83.

Ritchie, A., Govan and its early medieval sculpture (Stroud, 1994). Skene, W.F., ‘Notice of the early ecclesiastical settlement at St Andrews’, Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 4 (1862), pp. 300-21.

Brown, Michelle and Carol Farr, eds, Mercia: an AngloSaxon kingdom in Europe (Leicester, 2001). Campbell, A., ed., De Abbatibus (Oxford, 1967).

Skene, W. F., ed., Chronicles of the Picts, Chronicles of the Scots and other early memorials of Scottish history, 1867. 41

Onuist son of Uurguist: tyrannus carnifex or a David for the Picts? Spearman R. and J. Higgitt, eds, The Age of Migrating Ideas: Early Medieval Art in Northern Britain and Ireland (1993, Edinburgh). Stenton, F. M., ‘The supremacy of the Mercian kings’, English Historical Review 33 (1918), pp. 433-52. Taylor, S., ‘The coming of the Augustinians to St Andrews and version B of the St Andrews foundation legend’, in S. Taylor, ed., Kings, Clerics and Chronicles in Scotland 5001297: essays in honour of Marjorie Ogilvie Anderson on the occasion of her ninetieth birthday (Dublin, 2000), pp. 115124. Watson, W. J., The Celtic Placenames of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1926).

42

Æthelbald, Offa and the Patronage of Nunneries Barbara Yorke In the late seventh century the recently converted royal houses had apparently been falling over themselves to found nunneries for their female members.1 Entry into nunneries by princesses and widowed queens, and the bestowal of patronage by kinsmen, came to be seen as appropriate behaviour for Christian royal houses, and the nunneries became important for the creation of a royal line’s identity as the family from which rulers should be chosen. By promoting the cults of royal men and women the nunneries fostered the idea of a beata stirps, a blessed line, whose propensity to produce saintly individuals was a manifestation of God’s support and something that lifted them above royal pretenders.2 The kingdom of Mercia seems to have been part of this general trend, but the surviving evidence is less than ideal and the lives of most of the Mercian female saints for whom royal identities are claimed are only recorded in any detail after the Norman Conquest.3 Nevertheless the appearance in the Secgan, the late Anglo-Saxon list of saints’ resting-places,4 of a number of these putative Mercian princess saints provides some support for arguments for a network of early royal foundations that had initiated the cults.5 One reason for their obscurity is that the kings of the eighth and the ninth century who were not of Penda’s line preferred to found or patronise nunneries with which they had a particular association rather than those which might be seen as boosting the reputation of their predecessors.6 The reigns of Æthelbald and Offa can therefore provide an interesting case history of the ways in which patronage of nunneries continued to be used as a means of supporting royal power when new branches of royal houses won the throne in the eighth century.

by Frithuric, a subregulus of Mercia, in the latter part of the seventh century;8 and a late tradition, probably from Much Wenlock, records that King Merewalh of the Magonsaetan (reputedly a son of Penda) was buried there.9 Repton’s association with subsidiary members of the royal house, rather than with the seventh-century main line, also emerges from the entry into the community in c.697 of Guthlac, who claimed descent from Icel, founder of the Mercian royal line.10 Guthlac provides a link between Repton and Æthelbald, for after his initial clerical training at the nunnery and retreat into the fens of Crowland, Guthlac and Æthelbald were in frequent contact.11 But the connection between them may have had a stronger foundation than the morale boosting and prophecy that are featured in Guthlac’s Vita. George Henderson has proposed recently that Guthlac’s hasty retreat to Repton in 697 could be explained by his early secular career having been brought to an abrupt end by an involvement in the murder of Queen Osthryth of Mercia (wife of King Æthelred) that same year12 – the two events appear together in the annal entry for 697 in the Worcester Chronicle.13 Henderson would interpret Guthlac’s sudden discovery of a religious vocation as a means of escaping a worse fate when retribution was sought for the queen’s death. Presumably Guthlac’s retreat to the fenlands could then be seen as a form of political exile not unlike that of Æthelbald, and in this context Henderson draws attention to the attempted assassination of Guthlac by Beccel as perhaps being not so much a hagiographical motif as a real attempt by the Mercian regime to take revenge on a reginacide.14 Whether one accepts all of Henderson’s scenario or not, Repton’s demonstrable links with Guthlac and Æthelbald indicate that the nunnery became associated with a faction within the wider Mercian kingroup that was opposed to the regime of Æthelred and his successors, his nephew Cenred and son Ceolred. There is one other piece of evidence that may fit in here. When Guthlac entered Repton the abbess was Ælfthryth. We know nothing about her background, but in the letter of Bishop Wealdhere of London to Archbishop Brihtwold (dated to 705 or 706) there is an intriguing reference to a meeting between King Cenred, his bishops and other leaders concerning the reconciliation of a certain Ælfthryth.15 Could this be the abbess of Repton? If she had

Æthelbald, Repton and Crowland The royal nunnery in which Æthelbald appears to have taken the greatest interest was Repton, where he was buried;7 the evidence for Repton being of some significance for him before that date is less direct, but suggestive. Traditions preserved at Peterborough record that Repton was founded 1

The so-called ‘double houses’; see B.A.E. Yorke, Nunneries and the Anglo-Saxon Royal Houses, pp. 17-46. 2 Particularly revealing are Hrostvitha of Gandersheim’s comments on the saintly qualities of the West Saxon royal house in the early tenth century; see P. Corbet, Les Saints ottoniens; sainteté dynastique, sainteté royale et sainteté féminine autour de l’an Mil, especially pp. 111-19. 3 D. Bethell, ‘The Lives of St. Osyth of Essex and St. Osyth of Aylesbury’; C. Hohler, ‘St. Osyth and Aylesbury’; A. Thacker, ‘Kings, saints and monasteries in pre-Viking Mercia’. 4 D. Rollason, ‘Lists of saints’ resting-places in Anglo-Saxon England’. 5 One problem with reconstructing the early network of Mercian royal nunneries is that a number of the saints were subsequently translated to other houses. This is true of the Mercian female saints whose claims to royal birth are probably the most secure – Werburg, the daughter of King Wulfhere who was translated from Threckingham to Hanbury and then to Chester, and Cyneburg and Cyneswith, described as daughters of Penda, who were translated from Castor to Peterborough. 6 Indicative of this is that although Offa patronised Bardney which was closely associated with Penda’s son King Æthelred (675-704), it was the shrine of King Oswald that received his attention, not those of Æthelred and his wife Osthryth – Thacker, ‘Kings, saints and monasteries’, pp. 2-4. 7 Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, sub anno 757; M. Biddle and B. Kjølbye-Biddle, ‘The Repton Stone’, Anglo-Saxon England 14.

8

S 1805; F. M. Stenton, ‘Medehamstede and its colonies’ (1933), Preparatory to Anglo-Saxon England, pp.179-92; A. Dornier, ‘The AngloSaxon monastery at Breedon-on-the-Hill, Leicestershire’. 9 The Vita S. Mildburgae; see D. Rollason, The Mildrith Legend. A Study in Early Medieval Hagiography in England, pp. 25-6, p. 81. 10 B. Colgrave, ed., Felix’s Life of Saint Guthlac, chs 19-23. 11 Life of St Guthlac, chs 40, 42 and 49. 12 G. Henderson, Vision and Image in Early Christian England, pp. 215-6. 13 The Chronicle of John of Worcester, volume II, The Annals from 450 to 1066, ed. R. R. Darlington and P. McGurk, pp. 158-9. 14 Life of Guthlac, ch. 35; Henderson, Vision and Image, p.216. As Colgrave points out in his notes (p. 186), Felix’s account of the incident is heavily influenced by passages from the Life of St Benedict in Pope Gregory I’s Dialogues. 15 EHD, no.164; P. Chaplais, ‘The letter from Bishop Wealdhere of London to Archbishop Brihtwold of Canterbury: the earliest original “letter close” in the west’.

43

Æthelbald, Offa and the Patronage of Nunneries aftermath of his death.22 She arranged the translation of Guthlac’s remains only a year following his decease, with almost indecent haste one might say, and certainly allowing a much shorter interval between death and translation than was normal. Political events in Mercia may once again provide an explanation. The translation would have occurred in 715 or 716. In 716 Æthelbald made his successful bid for the throne for which Guthlac’s prophecies of his succession – when ‘God will bow the necks of your enemies beneath your heel and you shall own their possessions’ – may have helped pave the way.23 Æthelbald had visited Guthlac’s tomb soon after his death, and Guthlac had come to him in a dream and predicted that he would be king before another year had passed.24 Guthlac’s quick route to sanctity can be suspected to be part of the campaign for Æthelbald as king, through presenting his accession as the fulfilment of saintly prophecy. Pega was not only playing her part in promoting the family ‘firm’, but also striking while the iron was hot with Æthelbald revelling in the new possessions that had come his way – as Guthlac had predicted. In this Pega was not to be disappointed, for Æthelbald provided ‘wonderful structures and ornamentations’ (of a type unfortunately not specified further) for Guthlac’s tomb.25

been sheltering a man wanted for the murder of Cenred’s aunt, and who had subsequently emerged as confidante of a proscribed exile, she might well be in need of reconciliation with the Mercian royal establishment. Guthlac remained in touch with Repton after his retreat to the fens, and visited the house on at least one occasion.16 It has been suggested that Abbess Ecgburh who sent Guthlac a lead coffin was abbess of Repton, largely because of a ninthcentury charter in which an abbess (presumed to be of Repton) granted a lead-producing site at Wirksworth in Derbyshire.17 As Ecgburh is revealed to be the daughter of King Aldwulf of the East Angles it is not so likely that she would be abbess of a Mercian nunnery – though it would not be impossible if she had a Mercian mother, for princesses might take charge of nunneries in which they had inherited an interest from either parent.18 However, the gift of the coffin – if its leaden construction is felt to point towards a Derbyshire source – could also be interpreted as an indication that Ecgburh had active links with Repton as part of the East Anglian involvement (implied by the dedication of Felix’s Life of Guthlac to her brother King Ælfwald) in the nexus revolving around dissident members of the Mercian royal house.19

The evidence may be more fragmentary than one would like, but Repton would seem to have contained religious women who had exerted themselves to aid Æthelbald and his friends and supporters during his exile. Æthelbald’s burial at Repton can be taken as a sign of this close connection. The splendid sculpture of a Germanic king as triumphant emperor, which Martin Biddle and Birthe Kjølbye-Biddle have cogently argued to be Æthelbald’s memorial,26 can in turn be seen as symbolic of the contribution the nunnery of Repton had made to the creation of Æthelbald as ruler of Mercia.

With regard to Repton, one might also ask where Pega, the sister of Guthlac, had been before she emerged to orchestrate her brother’s cult after his death in 714.20 As she was already a religious and her brother had been at Repton, there must be a strong possibility that Pega had been a member of the nunnery as well. Although later in the middle ages the monastery of Crowland would claim that it had been founded soon after Guthlac had died,21 the Vita of Guthlac is clear that it was Pega who was running his cult in the immediate

Æthelbald and other nunneries Unlike many parvenu kings, Æthelbald is not known to have created a network of nunneries controlled by kinswomen from his immediate family, and, indeed, there is little evidence that he saw himself as fostering a new dynasty, unlike his successor Offa. As Boniface’s famous letter of rebuke to Æthelbald reveals, the king did not take an official wife, but he was evidently not uninterested in women and so may well have produced daughters, even if these would be labelled illegitimate by the church.27 However, the rich and

16

Life of Guthlac, ch. 27. Life of Guthlac, ch. 48; S 1624; see Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle, ‘The Repton Stone’, p. 235. 18 For instance, Mildrith followed her mother as abbess of Minster-inThanet, but her sister Mildburg became abbess of their father’s foundation at Much Wenlock; see Yorke, Nunneries, pp. 27 and 31. 19 Alternatively Ecgburh could have imitated her kinswoman Seaxburh, abbess of Ely, in recycling a Roman coffin –Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, IV.19. Although Seaxburh’s fratres returned from Grantchester with a marble coffin no doubt lead coffins would have also been attainable from this or other Roman cemeteries. Ely seems to have been the premier East Anglian nunnery and so the most likely house for Ecgburh to have commanded. 20 Life of Guthlac, chs 50-1; Pega is not mentioned in the Life before this point. Peakirk (Northants), recorded as Pegecyrcan in a charter of 1016 (S 947) must have some association with her, and in later Crowland tradition she is said to have lived there as an anchoress; Colgrave, Life of Guthlac, pp. 192-3. However, this is probably no more than an inspired guess on the part of the Crowland monks; possibly it is the site of her burial. 21 Colgrave, Life of Guthlac, pp. 7-15; D. Stocker, ‘The early church in Lincolnshire’ in Pre-Viking Lindsey, pp. 101-6; P. Sawyer, Anglo-Saxon Lincolnshire, p.81, pp. 145-9. The date at which Crowland came to be served by an exclusively male foundation cannot be established with any exactitude, but, as political regimes fell from power, there was a regular pattern in the eighth and ninth centuries for the female element in what had been female-dominated foundations to disappear, leaving a small group of priests to service the community, and Crowland probably fits into this pattern – Yorke, Nunneries, pp. 46-71. With regard to its history as a female foundation, one can note that, according to the post-conquest Lives of St Æthelbert of East Anglia, his intended bride Ælfthryth, daughter of King Offa of Mercia, took the veil at Crowland after his death – M.R. James, ‘Two Lives of St Ethelbert, king and martyr’, p. 229 and p. 240. 17

22

Life of Guthlac, ch. 50 also makes Guthlac appoint her as custodian of his memory and cult. It is a good example of how Anglo-Saxon men frequently assumed that female relatives would be the most suitable people to care for their souls as well as their bodies; Yorke, Nunneries, pp. 112-18. Unfortunately nothing is recorded of Pega outside the Life of Guthlac, and the later Crowland traditions which packed her off to Rome as soon as possible do not necessarily have any validity; Colgrave, Life of Guthlac, pp. 192-3. 23 Life of Guthlac, ch. 49. 24 Life of Guthlac, ch. 52. For the political uses to which dreaming might be put, and the increasing attention paid to dreaming in the eighth century, see P.E. Dutton, The Politics of Dreaming in the Carolingian Empire. 25 Life of Guthlac, ch. 51. 26 Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle, ‘The Repton Stone’. 27 EHD, no.177. However, the Adaltruda ‘Saxa Dei ancilla filia Adelwaldi qui fuit rex Saxonum ultramarino’ who purchased a church in Lucca in 782 and was identified as a daughter of King Æthelbald of Mercia in U.M. de Villard, ‘La monetazione nell’Italia barbarica’, Rivista Italiana di Numismatica 34, p. 212, can be seen more plausibly as a daughter of Æthelwold Moll of Northumbria. See C.E. Blunt, ‘Four Italian coins

44

Barbara Yorke famous tend to have more relatives than the insignificant, and Æthelbald’s apparent lack of immediate female kin was compensated by more distant cousins who sought his patronage for their religious houses. His kinship to Abbess Mildrith of Minster-in-Thanet is referred to in a grant of toll privileges for the community,28 and may have helped her obtain the concession and been a factor in the promotion of her cult by her successor Eadburh.29 Æthelbald also witnessed a transaction of her sister Mildburh, abbess of Much Wenlock.30 The two sisters were the daughters of Merewalh of the Magonsaetan who was reputedly a son of Penda and buried at Repton31 – the common burial place is perhaps a hint of additional links between their family and Æthelbald.

Æthelburh of Fladbury was a member of the Hwiccian royal house and the daughter of Alfred.36 Æthelburh may have been the eldest of Offa’s daughters; she leads her sisters in witnessing S 127, a grant by Offa to Chertsey that is unlikely to be genuine as it stands, but may have an authentic witness-list.37 Possibly Offa and Cynethryth followed the same policy as the Lombards Desiderius and Ansa, who before Desiderius’s elevation to the throne (in 757 – the same year as Offa) founded the nunnery of San Salvatore in Brescia as a family cult centre with their eldest daughter as abbess.38 Two of Æthelburh’s sisters who married seem to have gone into the church in widowhood as, of course, did their mother Cynethryth. Eadburh, who married Beorhtric of Wessex in 789, became abbess of a nunnery in Italy after his death in 802 (by which date her father and brother were also dead), and has been identified by Becher as the head of a community of some fifty nuns included in the liber vitae of Reichenau.39 Ælfflaed, who married Æthelred of Northumbria in 792, may have entered a nunnery after his assassination in 796,40 – that, at least, was what Alcuin strongly urged her to do.41 A rather more dubious daughter of Offa is Ælfthryth who is said to have been lined up to marry King Æthelbert of the East Angles and to have been so disgusted at his murder that she took the veil at Crowland.42 We are perhaps back on safer ground with a kinswoman of Offa called Eanburh who was also an abbess and leased land at Hampton Lucy (Worcs) from Bishop Heathored of Worcester in 780.43

But other references to Æthelbald’s involvement with nunneries reveal a less positive side to royal patronage. Abbess Eafe of Gloucester, a member of the Hwiccian royal house, received relief from seven years of royal refection in Gloucester in compensation for Æthelbald’s killing of her kinsman Æthelmund, son of Oswald.32 This was presumably intended to be a generous concession, and Boniface’s letter to Æthelbald suggests that the king might require more than refreshments when he came calling. The rumours that had reached Boniface were that nuns were among the many women Æthelbald had debauched, indeed, that they were his preferred choice among women.33 We have here one indication of the problems for royal nunneries that had to be both religious institutions scrutinised by local bishops, and suitable places for the reception of royal kinsmen who expected to find rather different standards of behaviour and hospitality.

The religious connections of Offa’s female kin gave his court a very different complexion from that of his predecessor Æthelbald. Alcuin was able to praise the ‘good, moderate and chaste customs’ introduced by Offa,44 in contrast to Boniface’s condemnation of Æthelbald’s licentiousness. The royal nunneries can be seen as an element of Mercian emulation of the court of Charlemagne. Charles also had close female relatives in the church; his sister Gisela and

King Offa’s Patronage of Nunneries In contrast to his cousin Æthelbald, Offa nurtured a strong sense of family identity and seems to have intended to found a dynasty from which future kings of Mercia would be chosen. This involved not only stressing his own royal powers, but that of his wife Cynethryth (perhaps herself of royal Mercian descent) as queen, and nunneries were used both to reinforce that self-image and gather spiritual and territorial resources under royal control. One daughter, Æthelburh, seems to have been in a nunnery all her life, and was in receipt of respectful letters and gifts from Alcuin who addressed her as ‘Eugenia’.34 Unfortunately we do not know the identity of her nunnery, but it was not Fladbury, as identified in Dümmler’s edition of the letters of Alcuin and by Levison,35 as charter evidence reveals that Abbess

36

S 1255; Sims-Williams, Religion and Literature, pp. 37-8, 132-3. M. Gelling, The Early Charters of the Thames Valley, no. 315. 38 K.F. Drew. ‘The Italian monasteries of Nonantola, San Salvatore and Santa Maria Teodata in the eighth and ninth centuries’, Manuscripta 9, pp. 131-54; J. Nelson, ‘Making a difference in eighth-century politics; the daughters of Desiderius’, in After Rome’s Fall. Narrators and Sources of Early Medieval History. Essays Presented to Walter Goffart, pp. 171-90. 39 H. Becher, ‘Das königliche Frauenkloster San Salvatore/Santa Giulia in Brescia im Spiegel seiner Memorialüberlieferung’, Frühmittelalterliche Studien 17, pp. 380-1; S. Keynes, ‘Anglo-Saxon entries in the “Liber Vitae” of Brescia’ in Alfred the Wise: Studies in Honour of Janet Bately, p. 115, n. 71. 40 Information from Byhrtferth’s Northumbrian chronicle – Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia II, pp. 3-91 (EHD I, no. 3). She was sister-in-law of Adaltruda discussed in n.27. 41 Dümmler, ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, no. 102. 42 James, ‘Lives of St Æthelbert’, pp. 229 and 240. There is no occurrence of an Ælfthryth in S 127, the Chertsey charter, though there is a reference to an Æthelswith daughter of Offa in the text, who is not otherwise known. Unlike the other three daughters, Æthelswith does not appear in the witnesslist. 43 S 120; Sims-Williams, Religion and Literature, pp. 163-4, where he suggests that Eanburh may have inherited rights through Offa’s grandfather Eanulf who is known to have owned land in Worcestershire. 44 Dümmler, ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, no. 122; EHD I, no. 202. 37

imitating Anglo-Saxon types’, British Numismatic Journal 25, pp. 282-5; V. Ortenberg, The English Church and the Continent in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries. Cultural, Spiritual and Artistic Changes, pp.102-3. I am grateful to Dr Jo Storey for help with establishing Adaltruda’s identity. 28 S 86; S. Kelly, ed., Charters of St Augustines’s Abbey, Canterbury and Minster-in-Thanet, no. 49, pp. 168-72. 29 Rollason, Mildrith Legend, pp. 13, 21-4, 142-3; S. Hollis, ‘The Minsterin-Thanet foundation story’, Anglo-Saxon England 27, pp. 41-74. 30 H.P.R. Finberg, Early Charters of the West Midlands, pp. 201-6. 31 See note 9. 32 S 1782; P. Sims-Williams, Religion and Literature in Western England, 600-800, p. 123. 33 EHD I, no. 177. 34 Dümmler ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, in MGH Epistolae IV, vol. 2, nos. 36, 102, 103 and 300. 35 W. Levison, England and the Continent in the Eighth Century, p. 251, n. 2.

45

Æthelbald, Offa and the Patronage of Nunneries daughter Rotrud were at Chelles,45 while his cousin Gundrada was apparently in charge of instruction of the princesses at the royal court.46 She seems to have had a counterpart in Hundrud at the Mercian royal court, possibly, from her name, also a Frank.47 All these women were linked as recipients of Alcuin’s advice and were go-betweens for him with other members of their royal houses.48 A common female clerical culture aided relationships between the Mercian and Frankish royal courts. When Liutgard, wife of Charlemagne, sent Abbess Æthelburh, the daughter of Offa, a dress, Æthelburh was able to produce the acceptable response of enrolling the queen in the liber vitae of her monastery, and thus sealed a bond between them and their respective families, for as Alcuin advised ‘her friendship is honourable and useful to you’.49

daughter Abbess Cwoenthryth,56 in a strategy of family aggrandizement clearly modelled on that promoted by Offa’s would-be dynasty. Conclusion We should treat royal nunneries as important parts of royal policy as that is evidently how Anglo-Saxon kings regarded them. By the eighth century they were a means of taking back lands granted to the church and of outflanking episcopal authority, but they were also important for the construction of identity as a royal family in a Christian context, something particularly significant for parvenu dynasties who needed to convince supporters at home and achieve recognition abroad. The women in charge of them often had extensive lands under their control, and remained active members of the family circle through whom churchmen like Alcuin might hope to approach the seat of power. Such correspondence reminds us that these were women of influence who are likely to have been actively involved in family politics and policy, like some of their Frankish counterparts,57 as occasionally we are able to see, however dimly, in our surviving sources.

The importance of this female religious connection is shown by the fact that Offa was buried, according to St Albans tradition, at Bedford50. This was presumably regarded as the family’s major eigenklöster, for after Offa’s death his widow Cynethryth is styled abbess of Bedeford.51. Bedford was generously endowed, for 110 hides known to have been assigned to it in Kent were presumably only part of its endowment.52 It seems have been the centre from which the widowed Cynethryth attempted to administer the nexus of churches dedicated to St Peter, with a variety of previous owners, for which she and Offa had obtained a privilege from Pope Hadrian effectively exempting them from episcopal control.53 Perhaps Bedford was also the house of which Offa’s daughter Æthelburh was abbess, but there were probably other predominantly female houses covered by the privilege. Unfortunately the list of houses once appended to the document has been lost, but one of them was probably Winchcombe which preserved a tradition that it had been founded as a nunnery by Offa in 787.54 The plans of Offa and Cynethryth for Bedford were upset by the early death of their son Ecgfrith. Cynethryth seems to have come under pressure from both Archbishop Æthelheard of Canterbury and Ecgfrith’s successor Coenwulf (at best a very distant relative) to relinquish parts of her monastic empire.55 Coenwulf seems to have wrested Winchcombe from the control of Cynethryh or her immediate heirs. He developed it as his own eigenklöster and centre of a network of houses protected by papal privilege under the supervision of his 45

J-P. Laporte, Le Trésor des Saints de Chelles , pp. 3-4, 115-50; J. Nelson, ‘Women at the court of Charlemagne: a case of monstrous regiment?’, in Medieval Queenship, esp. pp. 54-5. 46 Dümmler, ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, no. 241. 47 Dümmler, ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, no. 62. 48 Dümmler, ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, nos 85-95. 49 Dümmler, ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, no. 102. 50 Matthew Paris, Vita Offae Secundae, in Matthei Paris Monachi Albanensis Angli, Historia Maior, p. 20; and see R. Martin, ‘The Lives of the Offas’, below, in this volume. 51 S 1258; C. Cubitt, Anglo-Saxon Church Councils c. 650-c.850, pp. 225-6. That Bedeford is Bedford is supported by the spelling of the shire town in Domesday Book: Mawer and Stenton, The Place-Names of Bedfordshire and Huntingdonshire, p. 11. 52 S 1258, though N. Brooks, The Early History of the Church of Canterbury, p. 131, discusses possible inflation of the hidage. 53 Levison, England and the Continent, pp. 249-51; Cubitt, Church Councils, pp. 198-9, 226. 54 Levison, England and the Continent, p. 257. Other churches which were probably included were Cookham, Bath and Hampton Lucy. 55 S 1258; Brooks, Church of Canterbury, pp. 103-4.

56 57

46

Levison, England and the Continent, pp. 249-59. Nelson, ‘Women at the court of Charlemagne’.

Barbara Yorke

Abbreviations

Drew., K.F., ‘The Italian monasteries of Nonantola, San Salvatore and Santa Maria Teodata in the eighth and ninth centuries’, Manuscripta 9 (1965), pp. 131-54.

EHD English Historical Documents 1, c.500-1042, ed. D. Whitelock, (2nd ed. London, 1979).

Dümmler, E., ed., ‘Alcuini Epistolae’, in Monumenta Germaniae Historica: Epistolae IV, vol. 2, (Berlin, 1895).

S Sawyer, P., Anglo-Saxon Charters: An Annotated List and Bibliography (London, 1968).

Dutton, P.E., The Politics of Dreaming in the Carolingian Empire (Lincoln, Nebraska, 1994).

Bibliography

Finberg, H.P.R., Early Charters of the West Midlands (Leicester, 1972).

Arnold, T., ed., Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia, 2 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1882-5), II, pp. 3-91.

Gelling, M., The Early Charters of the Thames Valley (Leicester, 1979).

Becher, H., ‘Das königliche Frauenkloster San Salvatore/Santa Giulia in Brescia im Spiegel seiner Memorialüberlieferung’, Frühmittelalterliche Studien 17 (1983), pp. 299-392.

Henderson G., Vision and Image in Early Christian England (Cambridge, 1999). Hohler, C., ‘St. Osyth and Aylesbury’, Records of Buckinghamshire 18 (1966), pp. 61-72.

Bethell, D., ‘The Lives of St. Osyth of Essex and St. Osyth of Aylesbury’, Analecta Bollandiana 88 (1980), pp. 75-127.

Hollis, S., ‘The Minster-in-Thanet foundation story’, AngloSaxon England 27 (1998), pp. 41-74.

Biddle, M. and Kjølbye-Biddle, B., ‘The Repton Stone’, Anglo-Saxon England 14 (1985), pp. 233-92.

James, M.R., ‘Two Lives of St Ethelbert, king and martyr’, English Historical Review 32 (1917), pp. 214-44.

Blunt, C.E., ‘Four Italian coins imitating Anglo-Saxon types’, British Numismatic Journal 25 (1945-8), pp. 282-5.

Kelly, S., ed., Charters of St Augustines’s Abbey, Canterbury and Minster-in-Thanet, British Academy, Anglo-Saxon Charters IV (Oxford, 1995).

Brooks, N., The Early History of the Church of Canterbury (Leicester, 1984).

Keynes, S., ‘Anglo-Saxon entries in the “Liber Vitae” of Brescia’, in Alfred the Wise: Studies in Honour of Janet Bately, eds J. Roberts and J.L. Nelson (Woodbridge, 1997), pp.99-119.

Chaplais, P., ‘The letter from Bishop Wealdhere of London to Archbishop Brihtwold of Canterbury: the earliest original “letter close” in the west’, in Medieval Scribes, Manuscripts and Libraries: Essays Presented to N.R. Ker, eds M.B. Parkes and A.G. Watson (London, 1978), pp.3-23.

Laporte, J-P., Le Trésor des Saints de Chelles (Chelles, 1988).

Colgrave, B., ed., Felix’s Life of Saint Guthlac (Cambridge, 1956).

Levison, W., England and the Continent in the Eighth Century (Oxford, 1946).

Colgrave, B and Mynors, R.A.B, eds, Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People (Oxford, 1969).

Mawer, A. and Stenton, F.M., The Place-Names of Bedfordshire and Huntingdonshire (Cambridge, 1926).

Corbet, P., Les Saints ottoniens; sainteté dynastique, sainteté royale et sainteté féminine autour de l’an Mil, Beihefte von Francia, bd 15 (Sigmaringen, 1986).

Nelson, J., ‘Women at the court of Charlemagne: a case of monstrous regiment?’, Medieval Queenship, ed. J.C. Parsons (New York, 1986), pp. 43-61.

Cubitt, C., Anglo-Saxon Church Councils c. 650-c.850 (Leicester, 1995).

Nelson, J., ‘Making a difference in eighth-century politics; the daughters of Desiderius’, After Rome’s Fall. Narrators and Sources of Early Medieval History. Essays Presented to Walter Goffart, ed. A.C. Murray (Toronto, 1998), pp. 17190.

Darlington, R.R. and McGurk, P., eds, The Chronicle of John of Worcester, volume II, The Annals from 450 to 1066, (Oxford, 1995). de Villard, U.M., ‘La monetazione nell’Italia barbarica’, Rivista Italiana di Numismatica 34 (1921), pp. 191-218.

Ortenberg, V., The English Church and the Continent in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries. Cultural, Spiritual and Artistic Changes (Oxford, 1992).

Dornier, A., ‘The Anglo-Saxon monastery at Breedon-on-the Hill, Leicestershire’, in Mercian Studies, ed. A. Dornier (Leicester, 1977), pp. 155-68. 47

Æthelbald, Offa and the Patronage of Nunneries Rollason, D., ‘Lists of saints’ resting-places in Anglo-Saxon England’, Anglo-Saxon England 7 (1978), pp. 61-94. Rollason, D., The Mildrith Legend. A Study in Early Medieval Hagiography in England (Leicester, 1982). Sawyer, P., Anglo-Saxon Lincolnshire (Lincoln, 1998). Sims-Williams, P., Religion and Literature in Western England, 600-800 (Cambridge, 1990). Stenton, F.M., ‘Medehamstede and its colonies’ (1933), Preparatory to Anglo-Saxon England, ed. D. M. Stenton (Oxford, 1970), pp. 179-92. Stocker, D., ‘The early church in Lincolnshire’, Pre-Viking Lindsey, ed. A. Vince (Lincoln, 1993), pp. 101-22. Thacker, A., ‘Kings, saints and monasteries in pre-Viking Mercia’, Midland History 10 (1985), pp. 1-25. Wats, W., ed., Matthew Paris, Vita Offae Secundae, in Matthei Paris Monachi Albanensis Angli, Historia Maior, (Paris, 1644). Yorke, Barbara A.E., Nunneries and the Anglo-Saxon Royal Houses (London, 2003).

48

The Lives of the Offas: the Posthumous Reputation of Offa, King of the Mercians Richard Martin described as fulfilling the deed which Offa I was unable to achieve.7

Introduction The ‘Vitæ Duorum Offarum’ (hereafter the Vitæ) is the first work to appear in the compilation Manuscript Cotton Nero D.i, better known as the Liber Additamentorum of Matthew Paris. It occupies folios 2r to 25r and consists of parallel biographies of Offa of Mercia and his reputed predecessor, Offa of Angeln.1 The latter appears in the Anglian Regnal Lists as a forebear of Offa with a semi-divine status.2 The Life of Offa of Angeln is presented first, as a typological model for Offa of Mercia.

By putting the life and deeds of Offa of Mercia beside those of the earlier Offa, Matthew has elevated the status and achievements of the Mercian king to new heights by association.8 The strength, courage, nobility and reputation, all the aura of Offa I, are transferred to Offa II in the telling of the tale. Through being prefigured by the legendary Offa of Angeln from the Mercian regnal list, Offa is endowed with a noble, even divine ancestry and all the many qualities attributed to the first Offa. That Offa of Angeln was reputedly a builder of frontier defences only strengthens the effectiveness of this narrative technique.9 This is further assisted by Matthew Paris’s use of literary licence, or outright untruth, to further Offa II’s reputation, for instance in the repeated mention of Offa’s humility and piety.

The Manuscript Vaughan has ascribed both the hand and the illustration to Matthew Paris but the work has not been completed and later illustrations have been added, probably in the fourteenth century3. There is generally a two-column format to the lower page with twenty-nine lines of text while the upper part of the page is taken up by drawings that illustrate the text. The drawings remain incomplete.

Offa II in the Text of the Vitæ Matthew Paris’s text gives too broad a view of the life of Offa of Mercia to relate here. Suffice it to say that there are two main elements: one purely fictional, and one of a certain historical foundation but still interwoven with much highly imaginative material. Entirely fictional is the account of Offa of Mercia born a weakling with various disabilities but then miraculously cured, and thus enabled to overcome his father’s enemies. His defeat of Beornred is attested by a few words in the Chronicle while it is described in lengthy detail in the Vitæ.10 The genealogies do record one Offa of Angeln who was the son of Wærmund, thus corresponding to Offa I of the Vitæ, and one Thingfrith, who can be identified as Tuinfrith, the father of Offa II.11 Neither character, as depicted in the Vitæ, can be supported by historical evidence.

Typological Techniques in the Vitæ Matthew uses the biblical typological method whereby persons and events in the Old Testament prefigure those to be found at a later date and particularly in the New Testament. Foremost examples are Adam and Eve who prefigure Christ and the Virgin Mary, the New Adam and the New Eve. By looking at a synopsis of the Vitæ it is possible to distinguish the major characters and events in the Life of Offa of Angeln and see how they prefigure Offa of Mercia’s life and circumstances.4 Most obvious is the sharing of a common name. They are both born with severe disabilities, are disregarded as kingly material by their families but eventually are miraculously healed.5 Both Offas proceed to overcome rebellious nobles who are asserting themselves to put aside the ailing fathers of the two. In each instance a long and bloody campaign is needed to overcome opposition. Each conquers the usurpers of his kingdom, each becomes king in his father’s lifetime and fights victorious wars against his enemies. Likewise they share the fate of an unfortunate marriage.6 However, while the princess of York wed to Offa I and their offspring are tragically taken from him only to be later reunited, the Frankish princess to whom Offa II is married proves to be an Eve rather than a Mary, a stepmother rather than Cinderella. There are many lesser parallels but the final significant one occurs when Offa I vows to build an abbey in gratitude to God for the safety of his family and for his achievements. As with the marital prefiguration, the outcome is less similar but very important to the impact of the story. By establishing St Albans Abbey, Offa II is

Much of the life of Offa II has historical foundation if stripped of its imaginative padding. Reference is made to the battles of Otford (776) and Bensington (779), the building of a dyke between the English and the Welsh, the creation of the archbishopric of Lichfield, the Synod of Chelsea and the visit of the two papal legates.12 These are some of the events culled from the Chronicle or post-Conquest sources available at St Albans. The historical reality is that Offa of Mercia overthrew Beornred in 757 after a period of political unrest in Mercia but none of his direct forebears had been ruler of Mercia. When Offa married Cynethryth, she held monasteries on his behalf and her head appeared on Offa’s

1

7

BL, Cotton Nero D.i, fos 2r-25r but see also Wats, Vitæ Duorum Offarum et viginti trium abbatum Sancti Albani, for a printed transcription of the manuscript. 2 Sisam, ‘Anglo-Saxon Genealogies’, p. 164. 3 Vaughan, Matthew Paris, pp. 41-8. 4 See outline of the main parallels below. 5 Vitæ, 2r i - 2v ii, 9v i - 10r i. 6 Vitæ, 2r ff., 9v ii – 11v ii

Vitæ, 9r and 22r ff. Compare the opposing positions of the St Cuthbert and William of York windows in York Minster. 9 For Offa of Angeln and the establishment of permanent military boundaries, see Stenton, ‘Foreword to Offa’s Dyke’, p. 358. 10 Vitæ, fos. 9v ii – 10r ii. ASC, s a. 757. 11 See also ASC, s.a. 757 12 Vitæ fos. 13v i, 15r i, 18r i and 20v i. 8

49

The Lives of the Offas: the Posthumous Reputation of Offa, King of the Mercians coinage.13 There is no early or contemporary record of her having been exceptionally wicked and certainly not of being the murderer of Æthelbert of East Anglia. The character of ‘Drida’ would seem to have done her an injustice.

In this year Offa, King of the Mercians, had Æthelbert, [King of the East Angles] beheaded. This is extended to a narration of over four folio sides in the Vitæ and again, has little to do with historical reality.

The Welsh Annals testify that Offa was occupied with incursions by the Welsh for the first twenty five years of his reign, while Stenton states that the famous Dyke could not have been built until late in his reign. By this time Mercia was in a position to undertake such a major civil engineering project without hindrance.14 The Vitæ does refer to the dyke, when Offa is said,

As an historical source the Vitæ is unable to add to our knowledge of Offa II and his reign. It does not permit a reassessment of Offa’s reputation. To a great extent it is highly derivative, from limited and familiar sources such as The Chronicle, William of Malmesbury and Roger of Wendover. However, these have been expanded to considerable dramatic and ideological effect. Matthew’s primary aim was not the recording of history, as a closer inspection of the status of the abbey in the thirteenth century will reveal.

with the consent of the communi to have built an exceedingly long and deep ditch between the two armies; an earthen rampart raised loftily against the Welsh so that he might anticipate the deceptions of the enemies with swift rushes / attacks … he built a little church in that place.15

Offa and the Founding of the Abbey The Vitæ has a long account of Offa, his vision at Bath and his role at the invention of St Alban, the founding of the abbey and of its endowment. Despite the fictional nature of so much of the Vitæ it would be unwise to discard possible links between Offa and the founding of St Albans Abbey. One of only two extant pre-Conquest documents in the St Albans archive, a diploma of Æthelred II from 1007 (S 916), provides some evidence of the status and origins of St Albans Abbey and Offa’s connections with it. Of the three grants of land at Norton, Rodanhangra and Oxangehæge, it states:

There is no definite indication of the date of the dyke’s construction. The Vitæ narrative appears to suggest that it was after the battles of Otford (776) and Bensington (779), but this seems to occur by chance within the context of a disorganised narrative, rather than purposely. Charlemagne’s intervention in the wars of Offa against the Welsh and English kingdoms has historical foundations, as do the communications between Charlemagne and Offa that Matthew also uses elsewhere. Offa’s increasing strength in the south-east in the 780s would probably have caused strains in his relations with Francia. Another aspect of these relations is found in the letter by which Charlemagne settles a dispute over interference with the passage of pilgrims and tries to prevent the abuse of bona fide pilgrim rights by merchants trying to avoid tolls. None of these matters were difficult for the author to source and nor were the accounts of the consecration of Hygeberht as Archbishop of Lichfield or the consecration of Ecgfrith as king in his father’s lifetime. All of these are used as a means of identifying Offa with Charlemagne and the reforms of the Frankish Church and State.

King Offa, once upon a time the King of the Mercians, held a certain part of these lands in ius regale, and for such great love of the martyr who rested therein he granted it to the aforesaid monastery in eternal freedom by law. There is also an effusive dedication to St Alban, ‘the protomartyr specially honoured among the English’ in the proem. The anathema condemns ‘to eternal damnation those who would offend against God or Alban, his holy martyr’. Qualifications must be made before conclusions can be drawn about Offa and the abbey from this one document. The diploma post-dates the death of Offa by two centuries. The lands concerned had been violently usurped at an earlier date and are being restored on the exile of Ealdorman Leofsine. Finally, was the diploma written in a royal scriptorium, at St Albans or by an official at a hundred meeting or similar assembly?

There are two other events recorded in the Vitæ that are worthy of mention. First there is the long description of Offa’s defeat of the Danes. These are described as the first of the Northmen, and the Chronicle refers to attacks s.a. 787 and 793 but has no reference to Offa’s involvement. This appears to be the aggrandisement of Offa’s reputation by Matthew, although Haslam has proposed a strategic policy based upon towns and river crossings devised by Offa to combat the Danes.16

The royal diploma asserts that Offa had granted lands to the abbey. It does not claim that he was the founder. Yet the close ties of Offa with St Albans are explicit and it declares a special regard of the king for the saint. Also the saint is closely associated with the abbey church. It is probable that there was a continuity of worship and development of both buildings and traditions associated with Alban from the Romano-British period. Bede refers to ‘a church of wonderful workmanship being built there when Christian times returned’. Further, ‘to this day sick people are healed in this place and the working of frequent miracles continues

The Chronicle also tells, s.a. 794, that:

13 Stewart, ‘The London Mint and Coinage of Offa’, pp. 41 and 35 and fig.3. See also S 1258. 14 Stenton, ‘Foreward to Offa’s Dyke’, pp. 357-63 passim. It is not certain that Offa was less pre-occupied with his enemies later in the reign. 15 Vitæ, fo. 15 r ii. 16 Haslam, ‘Market and fortress’, pp. 76-93.

50

Richard Martin to bring it renown’.17 Within the abbey by the early eleventh century there was already the tradition of a close connection between it and Offa, a connection that would appear to have been accepted in the royal household and those who attended the king’s courts.

tenth century.23 That the settlement moved from the site near the Ver to the top of the hill over the centuries provides a difficulty here. It is tempting to hypothesise that Offa established a bridgehead over the Ver, near to St Michael’s Church where Watling Street ran. The site of the burh was at the foot of the hill while the monastery was at the top. The influence of the abbot and his wide-ranging privileges saw the main settlement transfer to the top of the hill and a rerouting of Watling Street.

Offa’s Interests in St Albans What was the value of St Albans to Offa? That Verulamium had developed into a municipium on Watling Street in the Romano-British period indicates the strategic and economic influence of its site, on the main route between London and the North, a day’s journey from London. The original St Albans endowment was centred upon North Buckinghamshire and more significantly, South West Hertfordshire with its southernmost extremity around Rickmansworth and Watford.18 As such these estates were adjacent to Middlesex, Buckinghamshire and Essex. The Thames Valley was within easy access along the River Colne and an ancient trackway that forms the boundary between Buckinghamshire and Hertfordshire. From this area it was easy to reach or to keep a watchful eye on London.

Finally, while St Albans was synonymous with the protomartyr from the third century, Verulamium symbolised the antique civilisation of Rome. By establishing a monastery and burh on this site Offa was not only adding to his reputation as a reformer of the Church but also to his Romanitas.24 Remorse for the death of Æthelbert is not likely to have featured highly in Offa’s priorities. However, we should look at Offa in the context of his reign, his political expansionism, ecclesiastical reforming zeal, desire to emulate Charlemagne, his strategic needs and the economic designs evidenced by his coinage. All point to strong motives for Offa constructing a bridgehead and burh at the foot of Alban’s hill and developing a probably pre-existing site rather than founding a monastery on the presumed site of Alban’s martyrdom.

The St Albans’ estates would have assisted Offa against the threat of West Saxon expansion along the Thames Valley. London was vital economically, providing much of Offa’s coinage and being the gateway to Francia and the rest of Europe. In the last years of his reign Offa ruled Kent, through ealdormen, as well as the East Angles, following the death of Æthelbert. The East Anglians remained a thorn in his flesh. Relations with Francia were close, as the Vitæ depicts, and the coinage was but one way in which Offa emulated Charlemagne and the Frankish kings. An interest in religious reform was another. It may well have been that Offa felt some remorse for the killing of Æthelbert and wished to establish a monastery in penance, as the Vitæ relates. Thacker has suggested that Offa may have founded a church in Hoxne, Suffolk, for that purpose.19 Far more likely is the founding of an abbey to establish a presence and authority in the area, just as Bath Abbey in the Hwicce was in Offa’s hands while he appointed subreguli to rule the kingdom. Cookham, on the borders with Wessex, was held by Cynethryth at the end of Offa’s reign and had been at an earlier date.20 Offa had gained land in Ciltinne (?the Chilterns) at Wycombe, according to S 106, that would have been close to the Icknield Way, along the Chiltern Hills.21 Like Charlemagne, Offa was well aware of the political, strategic and economic benefits in addition to the spiritual value of religious reform.

St Albans Abbey and Offa II in the Thirteenth Century The thirteenth century, certainly during Matthew Paris’s lifetime, was a difficult time for St Albans Abbey financially and in terms of its privileges. There had been extensive building works taking place, including a magnificent guest hall, on the instructions of Abbot John de Hertford (1235 1263). The Church in England had become vulnerable to papal exactions following the submission of King John in 1213. Royal demands had likewise increased, as with the demand that the abbot stand surety for the King. A general taxation of one Tenth had been ordered by the Pope and the King to provide assistance in the Holy Land. At one stage the Justiciar had challenged the very Liberties of St Albans. Further, Lateran IV had undermined the privileges of exempt monasteries to the extent that, at his election in 1235, Abbot John de Hertford was the first abbot of St Albans to have to seek papal confirmation in Rome, and to visit Rome every three years thereafter. Whether this canon was adhered to or contested the result would be considerable expense. In the 1250s a papal bull bound the abbot to pay five hundred marks to the Bishop of Hereford while two monks went to Rome to oppose the bishop of Lincoln’s rights of visitation; a very long standing controversy.25 There was no dissipation of lands to meet these demands although costly court cases continued over Stanmore and other disputed estates. Yet with the exception of Winslow no mention is made of lands in the Vitæ.

Offa’s interest in St Albans might well have been aroused through the advent of the Danes who threatened in the later 780’s.22 As with ecclesiastical policy, Offa could well have emulated Charlemagne in a policy of state formation. It is known that a market had been at St Albans since the mid17

Bede, HE I.7. S 136, 138, 150 and 151; dubious charters of Offa and Ecgfrith, 792-796, but almost certainly reflecting oral tradition and lost charters. 19 Thacker, ‘Kings, Saints and Monasteries in Pre-Viking Mercia’, p. 18. 20 S 1258. 21 S 106 involves the granting of land between Harrow and Wealdstone Brook by Offa, within easy access of Oxhey, Herts. granted to St Albans in S 916, and several estates in S 136, 138, 150 and 151. 22 ASC, s.a. 789. 18

23 Riley, ‘Gesta Monasterii Abbatum Sancti Albani’ I, p. 22. Attributed to Abbot Wulsin but as with so many St Albans sources, this is a Matthew Paris work. 24 My thanks are due to Anna Gannon for raising the point of Offa’s Romanitas which would have been a factor although very much secondary to strategic and economic motives. 25 GMASA, pp. 314, 374 – 78, 340, 307 and 312, 382 – 384 and 275.

51

The Lives of the Offas: the Posthumous Reputation of Offa, King of the Mercians The Æthelred II charter shows Offa had been associated with the abbey from an early date. This relationship was vital to a community whose privileges were based upon papal and royal authority. Not only the monks and abbot but also the townsmen had a vested interest in the economic viability of the abbey. Hence the energy with which the life of Offa II was ever more closely tied to that of the abbey in the Vitæ. Offa has the site of Alban’s burial revealed to him, he decides to found the abbey and dedicate it to Alban.26 As a consequence not only the royal founding and privileges of the abbey are emphasised but also the antiquity of its origins and its saint, the proto-martyr of the English.

in Buckinghamshire are mentioned by name for it is not the landed endowment but the liberties or special rights that had been claimed since the foundation that preoccupy the author. Offa’s supposed journey to Rome was to gain wide-ranging privileges from the papacy and get papal confirmation for those issued by Offa. There is no mention of freedom from secular exactions in the Vitæ. The collection of privileges in Nero Di does include many interpolations, making similar and even grander claims in both secular and spiritual privileges.29 Yet they have not been included in the life of Offa II. Rights and privileges are Matthew’s concern. The Vitæ claims, amongst others, that St Albans is a daughter house of the Church of Rome and free from episcopal intervention, exempt from Peter’s Pence and yet able to collect it throughout Hertfordshire and retain it for its own use. Such privileges typify the legal and financial benefits the house expected to consolidate or gain through the Vitæ.30

The close association of Alban and Offa helps to explain the treatment of Æthelbert of East Anglia in the Vitæ and the presentation of Drida. Earlier lives state that it was Offa’s queen who was responsible for Æthelbert’s death by her machinations. By the time Roger of Wendover recounts the tale Drida herself is the murderer.27 Matthew Paris then expands this, but not only to clear Offa of any incrimination: it also explains the founding of the abbey, as a penance by Offa, and its original endowment. It would have been most embarrassing for the community at St Albans to explain that the man whom they considered to be their founder was a murderer. Thus transfer of the blame is made to Drida, i.e. Cynethryth, the femme fatale from Francia, and emphasis laid upon the piety of Offa in the text. Offa is portrayed as ‘rex strenuissimus et potentissimus’, holding sway over twenty-three provinces, and showing great valour in defeating the Danes. Yet once he is king the emphasis is more upon his piety and humility. His humanity and piety are stressed in his permitting the dead to be buried after battle and by the fact that although he ruled many provinces he still preferred to use the title ‘King of the Mercians’ in his letters and documents.28 These qualities contrast strongly with the evidence for Offa’s career. Simply to remain as a ruler would have required qualities of cunning, ruthlessness and diplomacy. These are displayed in the text but it is the gentle and pious qualities that predominate.

Still there remain the problems of the date of the Vitæ, its incomplete state, and its context within the Nero Di compilation. Vaughan has ascribed the text to 1250 and there is a reference within it to the ‘Gesta Abbatum’ as being bound with it in the same volume. This means the Gesta had already been conceived and probably written but not necessarily bound with the Vitæ, as yet. There is no space to develop the idea here but from the content of the Nero Di compilation as envisaged by Vaughan in Matthew Paris’s lifetime and the events recorded by the chronicles in the 1250s, it would seem that there was a deliberate plan to further the cult of St Alban and the reputation of Offa.31 A statute was instituted in 1256 ordering prayers to be said for Offa’s soul on the day that Alban’s martyrdom was to be celebrated. In 1257 the discovery was recorded of the tomb of St Alban, beneath the floor between the altars of St Oswin and St Wulfstan in the abbey church.32 With such important events occurring it seems strange that the work should have been left incomplete. Matthew’s death in 1263 may well have brought the scheme to a halt although it is evident from Nero Di that he had collaborators.33

The benefits to the abbey are many. Having cleared the name of the reputed founder of the house the text reinforces its connections with royalty from its inception; its first abbot, Willegoda, was said to be of royal birth. The area around St Albans was inextricably linked with the martyr thus allowing the abbey to lay a distinct claim upon him as its patron. Had not their founder experienced a miraculous vision that revealed to him that he would discover the tomb of the saint and be responsible for its interment? Each of these personages added prestige, antiquity and sanctity to the abbey’s illustrious history. Royal origins, saintly relics accompanied by miracles and antiquity are fine advantages in themselves but were not enough to protect the abbey from its enemies. Certainly the tomb of St Alban encouraged pilgrimage with its obvious financial benefits to the abbey and the town. Many folio sides in the text are devoted to the founding of the abbey and the establishing of its privileges. Only the Winslow estates

29

Ms Cotton, Nero Di, fos. 149 et seq. Vitæ, fo. 23r ii. 31 Vaughan, p. 181 32 Luard, ‘Matthaei Parisiensis, Monachi Sancti Albani, Chronica Majora’, pp. 562 and 608. 33 See particularly Ms Cotton Nero, Di fos. 149 et seq. where the preconquest charters of St Albans are to be found transcribed. 30

26

Vitæ, fos. 21r ii – 24r. Vaughan, p. 181. 28 Vitæ, 16v i and 24r ii. 27

52

Richard Martin Conclusions Using his vivid imagination, skilled narrative style and the biblical typology technique, Matthew Paris has produced a fascinating tale that adds nothing to current knowledge of the reign of Offa of Mercia. However, Matthew achieves several important ends through the writing of the text. First, he further aggrandises the name and reputation of Offa while absolving him of any responsibility for the death of Æthelbert of East Anglia. Secondly, ever-closer ties are ‘established’ between Offa and the monastery at St Albans. Thirdly, the association between St Alban and the monastery is related, heightened and made closer. Fourthly, Alban and Offa are brought together in their roles as patron saint and ‘founder’, so that their reputations are mutually enhanced one by the other. Finally, the royal and papal privileges of the house are reconfirmed, clothing them in greater antiquity, authority and sanctity. Ultimately it was hoped that the text would encourage more pilgrims to the shrine of St Alban and help to maintain the cash flow of the monastery. The Vitæ would have been a powerful piece of evidence to put before a royal or ecclesiastical court because of the prominence it gave to royal and papal privileges in support of St Albans’ case for exemption from the exactions of Church and State. It is not necessary to look at the Vitæ as an historical record. The needs of the abbey in the mid-thirteenth century determined the image of Offa that is portrayed in the Vitæ, with the beliefs, opinions and prejudices of its author, rather than any historical reality. While there is uncertainty over Offa’s contribution to the founding of St Albans Abbey there is no doubt that his posthumous reputation was to play a significant part in the continued life of the Abbey in the thirteenth century.

53

The Lives of the Offas: the Posthumous Reputation of Offa, King of the Mercians Abbreviations ASC The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in English Historical Documents, Vol. I, c.500-1042, ed. D. Whitelock (London 1955), pp. 135-235. GMASA Gesta Monasterii Abbatum Sancti Albani I, ed. H.T.Riley, 2 vols (Rolls Series 28, London 1867-68). HE Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, eds B. Colgrave and R.A.B. Mynors, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford, 1969). S P.H.Sawyer, Anglo-Saxon Charters: an Annotated List and Bibliography, Royal Historical Society Guides and Handbooks 8 (London 1968).

Bibliography Haslam, Jeremy, ‘Market and fortress in England in the reign of Offa’, World Archaeology 19, no.1 (1987), pp. 76-93. Luard, H.R., ed., Matthæi Parisiensis, Monachi Sancti Albani, Chronica Majora, 7 vols, Rolls Series 57 (London 1872-83). Riley, H.T., ed., Gesta Monasterii Abbatum Sancti Albani I, ed. H.T.Riley, 2 vols (Rolls Series 28, London 1867-68). Sisam, K., ‘Anglo-Saxon Genealogies’ in Stanley, E.G., ed., British Academy Papers on Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford 1990), pp. 145-204. Stenton, F.M., ‘Foreword to Sir Cyril Fox’s “Offa’s Dyke”’ [1955], reprinted in Preparatory to Anglo-Saxon England, ed. D M Stenton (Oxford 1970), pp. 357-63. Stewart, I., ‘The London Mint and Coinage of Offa’ in Blackburn, M.A.S., ed., Anglo-Saxon Monetary History: Essays in Memory of Michael Dolley (Leicester, 1986), pp. 27-43. Thacker, A., ‘Kings, Saints and Monasteries in Pre-Viking Mercia’, Midland History 10 (1985), pp. 1-25. Vaughan, R., Matthew Paris (Cambridge, 1958). Wats, W., ed., Matthæi Paris Monachi Albanensis Angli, Historia Major (London 1640), incorporating Vitæ Duorum Offarum sive Offanorum (London, 1639).

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Legends of Offa: the Journey to Rome Stephen Matthews Kings, and especially great kings, attract legends; Cnut failed to control the tide and Alfred burnt the cakes. Although a few people may still know that Alfred also founded the University of Oxford, these are essentially one-legend kings. By contrast, Offa of Mercia has a whole trail of legends behind him stretching from Rome to Hereford and from Hereford to Hemel Hempstead, where in 1809 it was claimed that his coffin had been found.1 More curious still, apart from Leland’s fondness for thinking that any abandoned castle in the Welsh marches was a ruined palace of King Offa, the legends all show him in a virtuous light, founding or embellishing churches or engaging in works of a pious nature. This paper addresses only one of these stories, the legendary journey to Rome.

space here to explore them further. Rome In legend, Offa went to Rome. As far as we know he did not nor was there any real reason why he should, for the only major issue between him and the Papacy, which was the establishment of the third Archbishopric, was settled by negotiation with Papal envoys sent to England. In the legend in the Vitæ, he went to secure the future of his foundation at St Albans. The reason is plausible, especially to a later age more used to the exercise of papal authority, and its circumstantial detail seems to have persuaded many readers of its truth even after Moore’s critical examination of the sources, more than sixty years ago. In reality, little of the detail is convincing; the historic Offa is unlikely to have gone through Flanders, but rather through Quentovic and would be even less likely to have recruited monks at Bec on his return. Nevertheless one detail is curiously authentic, despite Rickert’s assertion that there was no historical precedent: Offa’s donation of land in Flanders for the use of pilgrims. This reminds one of Charlemagne’s gift of a hostel at St Josse for exactly the same purpose. One curious feature of this particular episode is that it was incompletely told in the Vitæ. The rubric on f.22r stated it explicitly but when the author finally returned to the story on f.22v he related only that Offa bought the land, not the gift that he made of it. We have to turn to the Chronica Majora for the whole story. What we make of this omission from the Vitæ is problematic; Matthew’s editor, Richard Vaughan, would probably have dismissed it as inadequate revision by Matthew but it may equally well indicate that the story was still being developed as it was written down. 6

The story is contained in two works by Matthew Paris, the Chronica Majora2 and the Vitae Duarum Offarum, which itself is the largest legend of them all.3 The latter has many strange features. I am not going to enter into the argument over authorship of the work; what seems commonsense to me is that there must have been a pre-existing body of written or oral tradition from which some at least of its elements were drawn. It cannot all be spontaneous invention, but must incorporate the work of previous writers or story tellers.4 The story woven by Matthew Paris or his predecessor, whoever he was, has much in common with a much later pair of chroniclers, Messrs Sellar & Yeatman. Their book, 1066 And All That, possesses an endearing quality of getting things nearly right. This quality is apparent in the Life of Offa II, which at first reading appears worthless as a historical source, but on thinking about it, its Sellar & Yeatman qualities begin to emerge. There are many echoes of real events: the parallels between Queen Drida and Judith, wife of Æthelwulf; the murder of Æthelberht; Offa’s flight into the wilderness after his defeat by the treacherous King Marmodius, so reminiscent of Alfred’s early defeat. Finally and most important for our story, as we shall see later, there is the dispersal of Offa’s daughters by Quendrida across the courts of Europe. Offa’s actual marriage negotiations with Charlemagne were abortive but later, in the tenth century, following a precedent set by Edward the Elder in 919, Athelstan married off his sisters across the courts of Europe; most significantly, when Edith married Otto, the son of Henry the Fowler in 928, there opened, in Stenton’s words, ‘a new period of intercourse between England and Germany which had considerable influence on English ecclesiastical history’.5 I mention these curious echoes of real events simply to set the greatest of our historical legends in context. There is no

7

The European Angle I want now to turn to the legend of St Richard of Lucca. He was the father of St Willibald and, according to that saint’s Life, he died at Lucca on his way to Rome.8 The Life tells us nothing about him, not even giving him a name. It simply tells us that he was buried at St Frigidian; there is no mention of special honour or veneration, although maybe the fact that he was buried in the church near the saint may indicate that he was of noble blood. The name Richard is not AngloSaxon and it does not emerge in the story until the late tenth century at the earliest, when it became necessary to create a respectable ancestry for his son Willibald. How the name Richard came about is a mystery; it may be pure invention but I am inclined to think that it may reflect an actual name that had been preserved in Eichstatt or Lucca. Dr Rumble suggested that the name may originally have been Ric-heard, from elements common in known names of the time.9

1

Dugdale, New British Traveller, p. 39. Luard, Chronica Majora. Printed by Wats in Matthæi Paris Monachi Albanensis Angli, Historia Major. 4 Rickert, The Old English Offa Saga. 5 Stenton; Anglo-Saxon England, p. 346. 2

6

3

7

Moore, The Saxon Pilgrims to Rome and the Schola Saxonum, pp. 79-81. Luard, Chronica Majora, p. 359. 8 Holder-Egger, Hodoeporicon, and in translation by Talbot, Anglo-Saxon Missionaries in Germany; the death is at p. 158. 9 Personal communication.

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Legends of Offa: the Journey to Rome Eichstatt and Worcester, for a mid-eleventh-century Passional from Worcester contains the whole office of Reginold for the feast of St Nicholas.14 Reginold was Bishop of Eichstatt from 966 to 991; he had been a senior figure in Ottonian court circles and his work was circulated widely. This, added to the royal marriage connection, must have helped to provide the channel between the two countries, and there would be no lack of knowledge of Offa in Worcester. If it was thought in Worcester that Offa went to Rome, surely that would be known to the Eichstatt hagiographer and included in the Vita Sancti Richardi? The answer must be that at the time that Offa’s fame spread across Europe to Eichstatt, the story of the pilgrimage was not current, or to put it more plainly, had not been invented. There would be no need for such a story – that need only arose later, when for whatever reason the Abbey of St Albans felt itself under threat and brought about the construction of the whole story in the Vitæ.

At any rate, the good people of Eichstatt were blessed with a famous saint, but they had no family context into which he could fit. A visit to Lucca about 1150 secured what were supposed to be Richard’s bones and possibly some other information, although at that date the Italians seem to have known or cared little about him. The cult then seems to have developed quickly for there was a Saint’s day in his name by the 1170s. Back to Eichstatt and the need to create a lineage for Willibald. St Richard came to perform a run-of-the-mill set of miracles, one of which can be dated to the decade 1150-60, but that was not enough. He in turn had to have a lineage and here we come back to the subject of these lectures, for he turns out to have been none other than the nephew of King Offa.10 This brings us back to the Vitæ and the daughters of Offa, whom I have taken to be the legendary equivalent of Athelstan’s sisters. According to his Life, Richard was the nephew of Rex Offa Anglorum, a title adopted by the historic Offa in charters of doubtful authenticity but also, unimpeachably, on coinage.11 He was the son of a sister of Offa by a Duke of Swabia, had become Duke of Swabia in turn and, after his uncle Offa’s death, he was invited to become king of England in his place. Later, at the insistence of his son Willibald, he abandoned his throne and went on pilgrimage to Rome.

There is no pre-Conquest reference to the journey; the earliest appearance seems to be in Gerald of Wales’ Life of St Æthelberht, but there the purpose of the journey is not to benefit St Albans but to be an act of penance for the murder of St Æthelberht. The earliest Life of that saint does not contain any reference to a Roman journey.15 We do not know what put the idea into Gerald’s head, but it is most likely that it was the later medieval practice of appeal and reference to Rome that underlay it rather than knowledge of the East Anglian Offa’s journey. Significantly perhaps, M.R. James considered the author of the earlier Life to be a Hereford man, not from St Albans. What does seem certain is that the story of the Roman journey did not come from Eichstatt, for there seems to have been no knowledge of it there. Whilst most of the Vitæ is based upon a maze of earlier legends, and on that I defer to Rickert, I consider that the story of the journey to Rome had no prior basis but was rather a spontaneous invention by Gerald for another purpose, shortly afterwards adapted to meet some need at St Albans.

Which Offa? Rickert asserted that the Mercian Offa’s journey to Rome was simply a confusion with that of Offa, King of the East Angles, in 709, only a little before that of Willibald and his father in 721.12 Even from a purely English perspective this seems unlikely, for the early story was well documented, and to take a later chronicler at random, Ranulf Higden in the fourteenth century, had no doubt that the Offa who went to 13 Rome was the son of the king of the East Angles. Another feature indicates that Rickert’s suggestion is wrong. The East Anglian Offa went to Rome on pilgrimage and died there. Going to Rome is possibly the greatest spiritual achievement for any early medieval king and it is inconceivable that if the author of the Life of Saint Richard had known of it, he would have failed to mention the fact in the Life. What better ancestry for a Saint than to have an uncle who made the great pilgrimage to Rome and died there? There is no question of a tactful omission to avoid upstaging Willibald, for the latter was in Rome twice. Despite Rickert’s assertion I believe it most likely that there is no accidental confusion between the two kings, that the tradition did not come from Lucca and that the German hagiographer did not have the East Anglian Offa in mind but rather the greater Mercian king.

What was the point of all this? The need must lie in some threat to St Albans Abbey which stimulated interest in its founder in order to enhance its rights and privileges by showing that they came from the most impeccable sources, the Papacy, the Papal Curia (which is stressed in the Vitæ), and one of England’s greatest kings. One such occasion, too early for Matthew Paris, lay in John de Cella’s financial mismanagement of the Abbey’s affairs, which may have demanded a higher profile for the Abbey as a pilgrimage centre. Last, the threat may have been of a more legal nature, in a direct challenge to the Abbey’s rights and privileges.

There is nothing improbable about a hagiographer in Eichstatt knowing the name of Offa of Mercia. He had after all been a player upon the European stage whose name would live in post-Carolingian circles. Æthelweard wrote his Chronicle for Matilda, far away in Essen. Veronica Ortenburg has shown that there was a connection between

At first reading the Vitae seems nonsensical but in fact the theme is subtle and coherent. It is the greatest of the legends associated with Offa. Offa I is fantasy but it is fantasy rooted firmly in an age-old Engish past. Its purpose is to link the

10

The Life is in Coens; ‘Légende et Miracles du Roi S. Richard’. For the royal title, Coens, ‘Légende et Miracles du Roi S. Richard’, p. 385; for the coinage, D. Chick, ‘The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries’, below, in this volume. 12 Rickert, The Old English Offa Saga, p. 7. 13 Higden; Polychronicon, at p. 176. 11

14

Ortenburg, The English Church and the Continent in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries, p. 66. 15 Two Lives were printed by James in English Historical Review 32, pp. 214-44.

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Stephen Matthews house of St Albans to the deepest roots of mythical origins. It is, to make the parallel, the Old Testament to the New Testament of Offa II. In Offa I there is the unfulfilled prophecy that the house will be established. In Offa II that prophecy is fulfilled and the purpose of Offa II is to glorify the life and reign of the founder. If that is the aim, why drag in the rather sordid story of the murder of St Æthelberht and give it so much prominence? Unfortunately, the murder was too well known to be ignored and the only solution was to accept the fact but put what we would now call a political spin on it. It was therefore easier to put the blame upon Offa’s wicked queen; Adam, Eve and the apple all over again. The rest is circumstantial, designed to blacken her image. On the other hand, Offa’s image has to be enhanced and what better way of doing so than by sending him off on the most pious of journeys, to Rome, to negotiate personally with the Pope the rights and privileges of the house of St Albans. He did not go for the third archbishopric: that could be settled with the papal legates, but the status of St Albans was more important than that, needing his physical presence in Rome. Whilst making the journey Offa had to perform a charitable act that would ensure the gratitude of posterity, hence the story of the meadows and the donation of Peter’s Pence from which St Albans was conveniently exempt. It is all good propaganda, and like all good productions of that kind it contained or alluded to enough actual facts to persuade the uncritical listener that it was probably right. There has not been space to address all the curious aspects of the Vitæ, let alone other legends, but one conclusion does emerge. Offa owned a remarkable number of legends, more than perhaps any other king. If we say that the more the legends, the greater the king, he must have been a very great king indeed. But then he was, in the words of the Ex Gestis Richardi Regis et Confessoris: a man full of piety and justice, worshipper of God and lover of mankind, father of orphans and widows, defender of pilgrims and the church of Christ, feeder of the poor and protector of the daughters of Christ.16

16

Coens, ‘Légende et Miracles du Roi S. Richard’, p. 393.

57

Legends of Offa: the Journey to Rome

Bibliography Coens, M., ‘Légende et Miracles du Roi S. Richard’, Analecta Bollandiana, XLIX (1931) pp. 353-97. Dugdale, James, New British Traveller (London, 1819). Higden, R, Polychronicon, ed. J. R. Lumby, Rolls Series 51 (1876), VI. Holder-Egger, W., ‘Hodoeporicon’ Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Script XV, I, pp. 86-106. James, M. R. ‘Two Lives of St Ethelbert, King and Martyr’, English Historical Review 32 (1917) pp. 214-44. Luard, H. R., Matthæi Parisiensis, Monachi Sancti Albani, Chronica Majora, 7 vols, Rolls Series 57, I (London, 187283). Moore, W. J., The Saxon Pilgrims to Rome and the Schola Saxonum (Fribourg, 1937). Ortenburg, V., The English Church and the Continent in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries (Oxford, 1992). Rickert, E., ‘The Old English Offa Saga’ Modern Philology II, (1904-5), pp. 321-76. Stenton, F. M., Anglo-Saxon England, 3rd edition, (Oxford, 1974). Talbot, C. H., Anglo-Saxon Missionaries in Germany (London, 1954). Wats, W., ed., Matthæi Paris Monachi Albanensis Angli, Historia MajorVitæ (London, 1639), incorporating Vitæ. Duarum Offarum sive Offanorum.

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Æthelberht, King and Martyr: the Development of a Legend Sheila Sharp ‘792 [794] In this year Offa, king of Mercia had Æthelberht beheaded.’

twice wrote of ‘a certain Alnod [who]…presented in perpetual alms to God and the Blessed Virgin and St Æthelberht the King, his manor of Ledbury, which is in Welsh territory, with all its appurtenances, and it is to this day in the lordship of the Bishop of Hereford, and is said to yield its lords thirty pounds a year...and the bishop of that place still enjoys it peaceably, being, it is said, the sixth from him who received it at the hand of Alnod...’. Otherwise, the only other reference is in Domesday Book, to a knight in Woolhope, who held land for five shillings ‘canonicis Sancti Alberti’.

With such brevity does the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle record one of the most perplexing episodes of Offa’s reign. A brevity underlined by the detail given in the subsequent account of an event of much less consequence: ‘...and Osred, who had been king of the Northumbrians, was captured after he had returned home from exile, and killed on 14th September; and his body is buried at Tynemouth’. Furthermore, it is the only extant mention (one could hardly describe it as an account) of Æthelberht for more than four hundred years, at which stage he emerges, fully fledged, as king, martyr and patron saint of Hereford cathedral. This gap in the record poses three questions: i) why did the story apparently disappear? ii) why did it suddenly re-surface? iii) how did it survive over such a long period? To provide answers, we must first look at the history of Hereford, and to the political setting of the events themselves.

Towards the end of the eighth century, Offa extended his rule beyond the Severn and this, together with the date of Wulfhard’s ‘Confession’, implies that the city came into existence at about that time, especially if, as R. Shoesmith suggests in his publications of 1982 on his excavations on or near to the city defences, Offa was responsible for the earliest phase of Hereford’s ramparts. If this is true, then such work would have undoubtedly been carried out in connection with the building of Offa’s Dyke. This enormous construction must have imposed considerable burdens on the population. Hereford had been a centre of the Magonsæte who, although under Mercian rule by the late eighth century, had had their own royal house in the seventh, and it is easy to understand why such people might support the cause of another of Offa’s victims in an act of defiance.

The history behind the legend Very little is known of Hereford for a considerable length of time. The original Roman ford lay about five miles to the west of the present city, and the Roman settlement, Magna, was to the north of this; and although a bishop of Hereford appears in all the Welsh lists of the seven British bishops who went to meet Augustine, there is no mention of any such person elsewhere. Bede, for example,1 lists the provincial bishops as follows: ‘...and Aldwin is Bishop of the Mercians; Walchstod of the folk who live in the West, beyond the river Severn; Wilfrid is Bishop of the Hwiccas...’ In 675, after Wulfhere of Mercia had ravaged Kent, Putta, bishop of Rochester at the time, fled and was given refuge by Saxulf, bishop of Mercia, who gave him a ‘certain church and a small piece of land’2 which could conceivably be the foundation of the see of Hereford, a view supported by Stubbs3 and Bright,4 in their accounts of the division of Mercia into five sees by Archbishop Theodore in 679. The name ‘Hereford’ does not appear until 800, when Bishop Wulfheard wrote his confession of faith: ‘..ego, Wulfhardus...Herefordensis Ecclesiæ Episcopus...’ [I, Wulfhard, bishop of the church of Hereford]. Later, by the early tenth century, under Wessex, Hereford, like Gloucester and Worcester, had acquired both a shire and a role as a place where English and Welsh could meet in war and peace. Our lack of knowledge of Hereford might even be due to one of these ‘meetings’ when, in 1055, the city and cathedral were sacked. Only one pre-Conquest document survived, although there are also two wills which mention the cathedral. One, by Wulfgeat, from before 994,5 leaves two or four bullocks to Hereford cathedral, while Walter Map6

Nevertheless, Æthelberht was of the royal house of East Anglia, not Mercia. His kingdom had been in conflict with Mercia for many years, probably over the lands of the Middle Angles that lay between them; furthermore, according to Frankish annals, East Anglia regularly offered refuge to Mercian exiles. Offa, already overlord of lands to the south of the Humber, might have perceived Æthelberht as a possible Saxon threat there, and although he was himself minting coins in East Anglia in the 790s, so was Æthelberht; this also could have been seen as an act of self-assertion. Dedications of churches to St. Æthelberht appeared early in East Anglia, although there is some confusion as to whether these were to Æthelberht, king and martyr, or to Æthelberht, first Christian king of Kent. However, miracle stories were current, some of which appear in Giraldus Cambrensis’ Life of Æthelberht, King and Martyr,7 thus making him a focus of local resistance as at Hereford. Had his cult developed and flourished as vigorously then as it did in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, it would no doubt have gravely injured Offa’s reputation, which is what happened with later chroniclers. Certainly Offa, despite his professed remorse and contrition, took immediate advantage of the situation and, ‘...although he was counted guiltless of the king’s death, he (Offa) sent out a great expedition, and united the kingdom of the East Angles to his dominions...’.8 It is reasonable to suppose therefore, that, in some way, the Mercian king saw Æthelberht as representing East Anglian independence. Be

1

Bede, A History of the English Church and People, Bk. 5, ch. 23. Bede, Bk. 4, ch. 12. Stubbs, Constitutional History I, p. 246. 4 Bright, Early English Church History, pp. 318-21. 5 Deanesly, Margaret, The Pre-Conquest Church in England, p. 345. 6 Map, Walter, De Nugis Curialum (trs. M.R. James, ed. F.S. Hartland), Dist. II, xii and IV, x; pp. 77 and 176 in James’s edition. 2 3

7 8

59

Brooks, E.C., The Life of St. Ethelbert, King and Martyr, ch. 4, pp. 50-8. Roger of Wendover, Flores Historiarum, Vol.I, Pt.1, s.a.792.

Æthelberht, King and Martyr: the Development of a Legend that as it may, Æthelberht was murdered, and with him died any hope of Offa achieving a peaceful overlordship of lands to the south and east, necessitating more aggressive methods. As William of Malmesbury wrote: ‘...(Offa) was a man of great mind who would endeavour to effect whatever he had preconceived ... this same man beheaded King Æthelberht ... who was at that very time within the walls of his palace ... and then unjustly seized upon the kingdom of East Anglia...’.9 It is therefore not surprising that the story of the murdered king, should have ‘disappeared’ during the lifetime of this powerful and determined ruler, only to re-surface much later, when the times were more propitious.

also murdered soon afterwards, and, like Æthelberht, very quickly sanctified, as were other murdered royals of the period, Wigstan and Kenelm, both linked to Mercia. Perhaps the church regarded sanctification as a way to prevent other killings, as the killing of those close enough to God to receive sainthood was a much more heinous crime than ordinary murder. After the Conquest, respect for these saints, as indeed for all insular saints, declined, since the Norman ecclesiastics who replaced leading Anglo-Saxon churchmen despised such local cults14 and it was not until much later that interest in them revived.15 It is difficult for us today to understand or appreciate the medieval passion for hagiography. Saints’ cults did not develop on their own, but were developed from requirements that were largely economic, arising out of the need to attract pilgrims who would then spend money locally. Unless a saint was venerated by the local population, no miracles would follow, hence no publicity or special literature, hence no pilgrims and no income. After Æthelberht’s murder, his head and body were enclosed in a shrine in Hereford Cathedral, which was then dedicated to him. Special services were written in his honour, later to be included in the Hereford Use16 and miracle stories circulated around both Hereford and East Anglia, telling of a column of light over the grave, the healing of a blind man, and others related by Giraldus Cambrensis. Already by the eleventh century it was believed that he had been slain at Sutton Walls near the city, a belief which was still current in Leland’s time: ‘...At Sutton a palayce of King Offa was King Ethelbright sleyn. Sutton is iii myles fro Hereforth northward apon Lugge. Yt is now cawled Sutton Walles, and now no thing but ruines.’17 However, after the sack of Hereford by the Welsh in 1055, when: ‘...monasterio ... cum omnibus ornamentis et reliquiis sancti Ethelberti, regis et martyris, aliorumque sanctorum combusto...’ ,18 the cathedral was left with so little that there is a votive Mass in one of its Missals, praying for the return of its relics. Therefore, the focus for any pilgrimage was lost and the need arose to re-create one. No doubt this was the reason why, after becoming bishop in 1130, Robert de Béthune, wrote to Abbot Suger of St Denys asking for any Æthelberht relics which he could send.19 This is also possibly the source of a tooth, reputedly sent to Hereford by Philip de Fauconberg, archdeacon of Huntingdon, 1222-7.20 William of Malmesbury visited Hereford in 1141, and discovered a cult, with what he felt to be somewhat dubious relics, but founded upon a genuine basis of Æthelberht, king and martyr. William appears to believe that this cult had begun c.1140, a view supported by Matthew Paris, when he writes ‘...[this relic] now adorns with miracles and brightens with virtues of the city of Hereford...’,21 since by using ‘now’ plus the present tense he implies fairly recent events. This

Revival of a legend This then brings us to the second question – why was the story of Æthelberht’s murder revived four centuries after the event? The answer to this lies in the English adherence to saints’ cults in general, and to those of royal provenance in particular. As Susan Ridyard10 points out, Anglo-Saxon England is remarkable for the number, ubiquity and regularity of appearance of its royal saints, involving not only kings, but princes, queens and other royal ladies – a process which only ended with Edward the Confessor. Other countries, of course, had their own, for example Henry II of Germany, Olaf of Norway and Stephen of Hungary, but never to the same extent as in England. Possibly the persistence of royal saint-making grew from ancient ideas on the link between royal blood and the priesthood,11 which is too big a topic to be considered here. It is important also to remember that the system of creating saints in the early Middle Ages was very different from that laid down by Gregory IX in the mid-thirteenth century, under which the pope became the final arbiter.12 Until then there was no very clear definition of sainthood, but much more a question of local veneration, admiration and, indeed, love for an individual perceived as having been touched by God either in life, or in the manner of death. This latter, where kings were concerned, often came about either in battle, for example Oswald, defending the faith against the pagan, or as an innocent like Edward the Martyr, taken unaware and slaughtered for nefarious reasons. In which category Æthelberht found himself. That his murder was seen even at the time as particularly atrocious is evidenced by the speed with which he became a saint. The church always took a particularly strong view of the murder of Christian kings, as it was regarded as a contravention of the teaching ‘Thou shall not touch the Lord’s anointed’. This teaching was emphasised, significantly enough in Offa’s reign, at the two Legatine Councils of 786, ostensibly called to consider the problem of Lichfield as an archbishopric, but at which kingship was also discussed; interestingly, it was during the second of these Councils that Offa had his son, Ecgfrith, anointed, the first time such an event occurred in English history.13 Ælfwald, king of Northumbria and present at the Northern council, was

14

E.C. Brooks, The Life of St Ethelbert, p. 6. R.W. Southern, The Cult of St Anselm and his Biographer, p. 249. 16 Brooks, Life of St Ethelbert, pp. 63-73. 17 John Leland, The Itinerary, pt. VIII, appendix II, p. 67. 18 Florence of Worcester, A History of the Kings of England, p. 124.. 19 A.T. Bannister, The Cathedral Church of Hereford, App.III, p. 110, quoting M. Felibien, L’Histoire de l’Abbaye Royale, p. 185. 20 Bannister, The Cathedral Church of Hereford, p.111, note 1. 21 Matthew Paris, Vitæ Duorum Offarum (Richard Martin’s unpublished translation, f.20v), and Roger of Wendover, Flores Historiarum, p. 159, s.a.792. 15

9

William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum, ch. 86, p. 68. Susan Ridyard, The Royal Saints of Anglo-Saxon England, ch. 1, pp. 1-3. 11 William A. Chaney, , The Royal Saints of Anglo-Saxon England, ch. 4, pp. 43-85. 12 David Rollason, Saints and Relics in Anglo-Saxon England, p. 28. 13 See Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 217. 10

60

Sheila Sharp sudden increase of interest must have encouraged the new writings on Æthelberht’s life, and the third question now arises, where did the writers acquire their information?

of Wendover, also from St Albans, in 1265 again places the blame firmly on the queen and says of the body ‘...conveyed to the city of Hereford, where it now graces the episcopal see with miracles and healing powers...’. Florence of Worcester is the first to actually name the queen, Cynefrith,25 while Richard of Cirencester, 26 writing 150 years later, gives the fullest account and, although knowing the St Albans version, since he quotes from it, has no doubt that the blame is Offa’s. In all these, the bare bones of the story are the same, the only variations being in the detail, which is only to be expected; suspicion only arises when all witnesses give exactly the same evidence. They must therefore all spring from the same foundation – a vernacular tradition.

The sources There are two main centres of literary provenance, each with its own emphasis: Hereford, where the action took place, and St Albans, reputedly founded by Offa in contrition for the murder. Although all the accounts involve both Offa and his queen, those from Hereford contrast with those from St Albans, grateful to Offa for its existence and much more anxious to blame all on the wickedness of his queen. The very earliest source is a Cambridge manuscript, CCCC 308, dating from the early twelfth century. It is not complete, since, as it says ‘...our ancestors omitted the miracles and the Passion’. It is the basis of the slightly later Passio of Osbert of Clare, and is believed by M. R. James to originate from Hereford since the proper names are in an older and more accurate form for the region – for example, Leofruna (Æthelberht’s mother) for Osbert’s Leoveromia, Sutton for Villa Australis, while Lude (Lyde), and Sceldwica (Sheldwick), are specific to this version. Osbert of Clare, d.1170, was a Suffolk man, who, at the time of writing his Passio was a monk at Westminster, where Æthelberht’s head had received refuge after the sack of Hereford.22 Interestingly, he dedicated his work to Gilbert, then bishop of Hereford, later of London, with whom Osbert had very difficult relations. Osbert described Offa as fearful of a possible threat from Æthelberht and hence easily persuaded by his queen to murder the young king. It is Osbert who introduced the villainous Winbert who accepted the bribe to murder.

In our media-soaked world, we are rather wary in our evaluation of oral evidence but, when the only entertainment was the telling of tales and the singing of songs in the mead hall, there must have been a mass of stories told and re-told over the generations in all Germanic societies, and woebetide the story-teller who got any detail wrong. Much evidence for this exists; from classical authors to medieval chroniclers: from Tacitus, who refers ‘..to the ancient songs (carmina antiqua) of the Germani and adds that they were the only kind of historical tradition which they possessed,’27 to William of Malmesbury, who includes in his work the story of Sceld of Sceaf, a little boy who could conceivably be the Scyld Sceafing of Beowulf.28 Asser speaks of Alfred’s love of old stories29 and his encouragement to his children to learn Old English poetry; Asser, writing the story of Eadburh, Offa’s daughter, says that he ‘learned [about the end of her life] from many who saw her’.30 Henry of Huntingdon, in describing the St Brice massacre, says ‘[he] had heard it as a boy from some very old persons’, and elsewhere begins his accounts with ‘unde dicitur’(‘about which it is said’).31

Then there is Gerald of Wales (Giraldus Cambrensis, 11461230), of Welsh royal blood, who led a turbulent life as a cleric in the Hereford area but, as possibly the greatest writer of Latin to come out of Wales, was warmly invited by the bishop, dean and chapter of Hereford cathedral to write a Vita Æthelberhti, in order to attract both money and credit. He was thus very well placed to learn the local traditions of the martyrdom and was the first to locate both the site of Offa’s ‘palace’ at Sutton, and then Æthelberht’s first burial place on the banks of the Lugg. He too named Winbert and described how the queen encouraged Offa. Fifty years later, Matthew Paris, (d.1259) wrote his Vitæ duorum Offarum. The only point I wish to make here is that, as a monk of St Albans, Matthew must have felt himself under the necessity to rehabilitate Offa as the founder and benefactor of his abbey.

The church was opposed to this story-telling, as can be seen in Alcuin’s letter of complaint to Hygebald, bishop of Lindisfarne, in 797: ‘verba Dei legantur in sacerdotali convivio. Ibi decet lectorum audiri, non citharistam; sermons patrum, non carmina gentilium. Quid Hinieldus cum Christo? … Voces legentium audire in domibus tuis, non ridentium turbam in plateis.’ (The words of God should be read at priestly meals. Where it is fitting to listen to a reader, not a lute-player; the discourse of the fathers, not the songs of the people. What has Ingeld to do with Christ? The voices of readers should be heard in your houses, not the laughing hubbub of the streets.)32 Dunstan was accused of learning ‘vain songs’, an accusation which was included in the charges brought against him at Athelstan’s court,33 while Edgar’s canons forbade monks to sing songs, even to themselves. Nevertheless, much early history has clearly come from an oral tradition, from Bede’s Hengest and Horsa

After these three important works, many chroniclers wrote about Æthelberht’s martyrdom, nearly all adding various details of their own. John of Brompton’s account is almost pure Gerald, but adds the name of the blind man miraculously cured by Æthelberhts’s head. His work is accepted in the liturgy of the Hereford Use (1215),23 in which, during the Octave for St Æthelberht, Offa’s wife is said to have behaved as ‘the wife of Puthyfar (sic)’.24 Roger

25

Florence of Worcester, History of Kings, p. 42, s.a.793. Richard of Cirencester, Speculum Historiae I, pp. 280-94. 27 P. Hunter Blair, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 315. 28 William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum II, ch. 116, p. 97. 29 Asser, Life of King Alfred, ch. 22, pp. 74-5. 30 Asser, Life, ch.15, p. 72. 31 Henry of Huntingdon, Chronicle, Bk. II, p. 184.. 32 Monumenta Germaniae Historia, Epist. Karol. Aevi ii, p. 183. 33 D. Dales, Dunstan, Saint and Statesman, ch.3, p.19. 26

22

Brooks, Life of St Ethelberht, pp. 11-12. Brooks, Life of St Ethelberht, p. 68. 24 Wendover, Flores Historiarum, p. 159. 23

61

Æthelberht, King and Martyr: the Development of a Legend to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle account of Cynewulf and Cyneheard, s.a. 755, and early Danish attacks, s.a. 789 and 794, in which the details are so clear that they must have been gleaned from eye-witnesses. Further strong evidence lies in Dunstan’s account of the narration by his ancient sword-bearer of the story of St Edmund’s martyrdom, made in front of King Athelstan.34 Surely then, it is reasonable to believe that the story of Æthelberht’s martyrdom, with its attendant miracles and hagiographical topoi, could easily have survived by such means, to be written down by much later chroniclers and, in the words of William of Malmesbury, ‘Indeed God signalled his sanctity by such evident tokens that, at this very day, the Episcopal church of Hereford is consecrated to his name. Nor should anything appear idle or irrelevant, which our pious and religious ancestors have either admitted by their silence, or confirmed by their authority’.35

34

Abbo of Fleury, tr. E.S.Duckett, Saint Dunstan of Canterbury, ch. 8, pp. 204-5. 35 William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum, ch. 210, p. 202.

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Sheila Sharp

Bibliography

Kirby, D. P., The Earliest English Kings (London, 1991).

Abbo of Fleury, tr. E.S. Duckett, Saint Dunstan of Canterbury (see below, Duckett).

John Leland, Itinerary, ed. Lucy Toulmin Smith, pt. VIII (London, 1909).

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Whitelock, Dorothy, ed., with David C. Douglas and Susie I. Tucker (New Brunswick/New Jersey, 1961).

Loyn, H. R., The Governance of Anglo-Saxon England, (London, 1991).

Alfred the Great: Asser’s ‘Life of King Alfred’ and Other Contemporary Sources, ed. and trs. S. Keynes and M. Lapidge, (Harmondsworth, 1983).

Walter Map, De Nugis Curialum, ed. and trs. M.R. James and F S. Hartland, Cymmrodorion Record Series No. IX (London, 1923).

Bannister, A. T., The Cathedral Church of Hereford, its History and Constitution, Studies in Church History (London, 1924).

Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Epistolae Karolini Aevi II, ed. E. Duemmler, (Berlin, 1895; reprinted Munich, 1978). Osbert of Clare, Passio Ethelberti, trs. Brooks, Rev. Dr. E. C. (Bury Clerical Society, Ipswich).

Bede, A History of the English Church and People, trs. Sherley-Price, Leo and revised R. E. Latham, (Harmondsworth, 1955).

Paul the Deacon, History of the Lombards, trs. Foulkes, William Dudley (Philadelphia, 1907).

Blair, Peter Hunter, Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1955 and Folio Society, 1997).

Richard of Cirencester Speculum Historiae, ed. J.E.B. Mayor, 2 vols, Rolls Series 30 (London 1863-9).

Bright, W., Chapters of Early English Church History (Oxford, 1878).

Ridyard, Susan, The Royal Saints of Anglo-Saxon England (Cambridge, 1988).

Brooks, Rev. Dr. Edward C., The Life of Saint Ethelbert, King and Martyr (translated from Giraldus Cambrensis, Bury Clerical Society, Ipswich).

Roger of Wendover, Flores Historiarum, I, pt.I (formerly ascribed to Matthew Paris), trs. Giles, J. A. (Llanerch Reprint, Lampeter 1993).

Chaney, William A., The Cult of Kingship in Anglo-Saxon England (Manchester, 1970).

Rollason, David, Saints and Relics in Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1989).

Colgrave, Bertram, ed. and trs., Felix, Life of St Guthlac (Cambridge, 1956).

Southern, R W., St Anselm and his Biographer (Cambridge, 1963).

Dales, Douglas, Dunstan, Saint and Statesman (Lutterworth Press, Cambridge, 1988).

Stenton, Sir Frank, Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1962).

Deanesly, Margaret, The Pre-Conquest Church in England (London, 1961).

Stubbs, W., The Constitutional History of England (Oxford, 1878).

Duckett, E. S., Saint Dunstan of Canterbury (London, 1955).

William of Malmesbury, The Kings before the Norman Conquest, trs. Stephenson, J. (Llanerch Reprint, Lampeter 1989).

Florence of Worcester, A History of the Kings of England, trs. Stephenson J. (Llanerch Reprint, Lampeter).

Wilson, R. M., The Lost Literature of Medieval England (London,1952).

Gaimar, The History of the English, trs. Stephenson, J., The Church Historians of England II, pt. II (London, 1854).

Wright, C. E., The Cultivation of Saga in Anglo-Saxon England (Edinburgh, 1939).

Giraldus Cambrensis, Opera, Vol. 3, Rolls Series (London, 1863).

Yorke, Barbara, Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1997).

Henry of Huntingdon, Chronicle, ed. and trs. Forester, Thomas (Llanerch reprint, Lampeter 1991). James, M. R., ‘Two Lives of St Æthelberht, King and Martyr’, English Historical Review 32 (1917), pp.214-44. John of Wallingford, Chronicles, tr. Stevenson, J., The Church Historians of England, II, pt. II (London, 1854). 63

Mentions of Offa in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Beowulf, and Widsith Mark Atherton swyrdes ðe Ulfcytel ahte’ (‘the silverhilted sword which Ulfcytel owned’). This Ulfcytel is presumably Ulfkytel of East Anglia,5 who according to the CD versions of the Chronicle heroically distinguished himself fighting against the Danes at Thetford near Norwich in 1004, for ‘as they themselves said, they never met with any fiercer sword-play in England than what Ulfkytel gave them’:

‘Offa ... with his single sword defined the marchlands’ (Widsith) In 1014, Æthelstan Ætheling, son of Æthelred II the Unready, wrote a long will1 in which he left ‘the sword which king Offa owned’ to his brother Edmund, later to be known as Edmund Ironside.2 The mention of this ancient sword is a fascinating index of Offa’s reputation at the beginning of the eleventh century. By that time a number of texts were available – in the standard English of the period – in which Offa King of the Mercians was celebrated. Of these, the oldest is the Mercian genealogy, written in the early ninth century. Two late-ninth-century testimonies provide further insights: the brief but invaluable entries of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the positive (if puzzling) reference to Offa in the Laws of Alfred. In addition, there are possible allusions to the Mercian king in the poems Beowulf and Widsith, both of which were read and copied in the late Anglo-Saxon period, and presumably available, at least to some readers, in the eleventh century.

swa hi sylfe sædon þæt hi næfre wyrsan handplegan on Angelcynne ne gemetton þonne Ulfkytel him brohte.6 The next owner of a sword mentioned in the will seems to enjoy comparable heroic stature. Athelstan states ‘And ic geann Eadmunde minan breðer þæs swyrdes þe Offa cyng ahte’ (‘And I grant Edmund my brother the sword which King Offa owned’). Evidently, this ancient sword was something special. Thought by some to be the ‘Hunnish sword’ presented to Offa by Charlemagne;7 the weapon is seen by others as Offa’s personal sword, preserved with great respect and handed down from one generation to the next – and from one dynasty to next – for more than two hundred years.8 Simon Keynes has speculated that Offa bequeathed his sword to his son-in-law Beorhtric, king of Wessex (786802), from whom it passed to his successor Ecgberht (802839) and so remained in the possession of the West Saxon line.9

1. The Will of Athelstan Along with its rich gifts of land to various recipients, the will of Athelstan Ætheling (1014) is noteworthy for its detailed listings of valuable possessions and artefacts. The following extracts from the text give an impression of the high value that Anglo-Saxon society attached to a sword, a belt, a bracelet, a drinking horn, and a horse:3

The statement in Athelstan’s will is interesting for the light it throws on Offa’s reputation at the beginning of the eleventh century. In his own day he had been called ‘Offa Myrcna cyning’ (‘Offa king of the Mercians’), which must have helped to distinguish him from the earlier Offa of the East Saxons and from the legendary Offa of the Angles (more of whom below). But here the will refers to him simply as ‘Offa cyng’, employing the same formula as for ‘Æþelred cyng’ a few lines before, or ‘Eadmund cyng’ and ‘Cnut cyng’ in eleventh-century annals and other texts. Apparently Offa’s fame was circulating by word of mouth, and in the will of 1014 he was referred to in the same manner as the monarch of the (by then) much enlarged kingdom of the English.

...and þæs swyrdes mid þam seolfrenan hiltan þe Wulfric worhte. and þone gyldenan fetels. and þone beh þe Wulfric worhte. and þone drenc horn þe ic ær æt þam hirede bohte æt ealdan mynstre... and ic geann minan fæder Æþelræde cynge þæs landes æt Cealctune ... and þæs seolferhiltan swyrdes ðe Ulfcytel ahte. and þære byrnan þe mid Morcere ys. and þæs horses ðe Þurbrand me geaf. and þæs hwitan horses þe Leowine me geaf.4 Some of these objects appear to have acquired additional value through the famous people with whom they were associated (usually the craftsman who made the artefact or the person who owned it). So Athelstan’s will speaks of ‘the sword with the silver hilt which Wulfric made’ and ‘the drinking horn purchased from the community at the Old Minster’. Similarly, Athelstan grants his father (‘Æþelræde cynge...’) among many other possessions ‘þæs seolferhiltan

5

As suggested by Higham, The Death of Anglo-Saxon England. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle MS D, s.a. 1004. Cubbin, The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, p. 52. 7 ‘We have sent something to each of the metropolitan cities from the worldly treasure which the Lord Jesus has granted us in his goodness. And I have sent you too, in joy and thankfulness to God, a belt and a Hunnish sword and two silk cloaks, that God’s mercy may be preached and the name of our Lord Jesus Christ glorified for ever among Christian people everywhere.’ See the letter of AD 796 from Charlemagne to Offa in Allot, Alcuin of York, letter 40, p. 53. The letter was quoted by William of Malmesbury; see Gesta Regum I, ch. 93, in Mynors, et al., pp. 136 and 137. There is a brief discussion in Davidson, The Sword in Anglo-Saxon England, p. 109. 8 Whitelock, Anglo-Saxon Wills writes at p. 171: ‘Offa reigned from 757 to 796, so that the sword had been handed down for over two hundred years’. 9 Alternatively, the sword perhaps came to the West Saxon kings during periods of English unification, such as the reigns of Athelstan (924-39) or Edgar (959-75). Keynes, ‘King Alfred and the Mercians’, at pp. 1 and 44. For Beorhtric, see Keynes and Lapidge Alfred the Great, ch. 14, p. 71. 6

1

Whitelock, Anglo-Saxon Wills, no. xx, pp. 56-63. As the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle MS D noted s.a. 1057, recalling his brief reign in 1016, ‘Eadmund cing, Irensid wæs geclypod for his snellscipe’ (‘... of King Edmund, who was called Ironside for his bravery’). Cubbin, The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. A Collaborative Edition, p. 75. 3 The Old English text here is adapted from the edition by Earle, A Handbook to the Land-Charters, p. 225. 4 (‘and the sword with the silver hilt which Wulfric made, the golden belt, and the bracelet which Wulfric made, and the drinking horn which I purchased from the community at the Old Minster. And I grant to my father king Æthelred the estate at Chalton ... and the silver-hilted sword which Ulfcytel made, and the mailcoat that is with Morcar, and the horse which Thurbrand gave me, and the white horse which Leofwine gave me.’). 2

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Mentions of Offa in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Beowulf and Widsith is Seaxnet. In both royal genealogies, the recording of the list of ancestors appears to serve an important function as the guarantee of a king’s pedigree and prestige.

2. The Anglian regnal lists The Mercian genealogies, which survive in four manuscripts,10 show the lines of the royal house of Penda, Æthelbald and Offa:

3. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Further confirmation of the importance of genealogies is their use as a source in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, particularly the A version, compiled in its original form in the late ninth century. Appropriately, the preface to the Parker Chronicle (MS A) gives the genealogy of the founder of the West Saxon line, Cerdic, which goes back to the divine ancestral hero Woden:16

Mercia I Æðilred Peding [sic], Penda Pypbing, Pypba Crioding, Crioda Cynewalding, Cynewald Cnebbing, Cnebba Icling, Icil Eamering, Eamer Angengeoting, [A]ngengeot Offing, Offa Uærmunding, Uermund Uihtlæging, Uihtlæg Weoðulgeoting, Weoðulgeot Wodning, Woden Frealafing Mercia II Æðelbald Alwing, Alwih Eowing, Eowa Pybbing Mercia III Ecgfrið Offing, Offa Ðincfriðing, Ðincfrið Eanuulfing, Eanuulf Osmoding, Osmod Eowing, Eowa Pybbing11

ÞY GEARE ÞY WÆS AGAN FRAM CRISTES acennesse .cccc. wintra. 7 .xciiii. wintra. þa Cerdic 7 Cynric his sunu cuom up æt Cerdicesoran. mid .v. scipum. 7 se Cerdic wæs Elesing, Elesa Esling, Esla Giwising, Giwis Wiging, Wig Freawining, Freawine Friþugaring, Friþugar Bronding, Brond Beldæging, Beldæg Wodening.17

In such regnal lists (examples of which occur also in Bede) the original founders of the dynasty include divine hero figures, in this case Woden and Frealaf,12 as well as heroes from the legendary past. The two ancestral lists for Æthelbald (Mercia II) and Ecgfrith son of Offa (Mercia III) show that both Æthelbald and Offa descend from Pybba, whose ancestry goes back to Icel, the apparent founder of the Mercian royal family in England, and then, through such figures as Eamer and Angengeot, to Offa of the Angles and his father Uermund.13

The prominent use of genealogies in the Preface sets a pattern for the rest of the text. As the Chronicle unfolds, annals which record significant changes, such as the succession of a new king of importance or the appearance of a new character, are frequently marked by an appropriate genealogical list - in some cases combined with a demonstrative se to identify the person more precisely by his lineage, as in the above passage from the Preface ‘ond se Cerdic wæs Elesing’ (‘and that Cerdic was the son of Elesa’). Mostly the West Saxon lineage is given, exceptions being the use of the Mercian genealogy to highlight the successions of Penda in 626, Æthelbald in 716, and Offa in 757.

The Mercian lists could be compared with the genealogy of Offa of the East Saxons, a popular and long-awaited king, who spent the latter years of his life as a monk in Rome.14 Presented diplomatically, the fragmentary text of the East Saxon regnal list (from the fragmentary London, BL, Add. 32211) has the following form, the layout and large capital O perhaps contributing to the intended message:

For our purposes the annal of interest in MS A is for the year 755 (the scribe mistakenly begins his text adjacent to the figure 755 rather than 757)18 This records the accession of Cyneheard to the West Saxon throne, continues with the famous extended narrative of the feud between King Cyneheard and the rebel ætheling Cynewulf which led to both their deaths in 786, and closes with the accession of Offa in the same year (i.e. 757). The story of the feud has attracted considerable interest as evidence of the weakening of traditional Germanic kinship ties by the new requirements of loyalty to a leader.19 This generally-held view has been questioned by Stephen D. White, who argues that the story deals with ‘several competing ideologies about what people owed their lords and their kin’.20 With good reason, the story of Cynewulf and Cyneheard is

deregibus orientalium seaxonum:-Offa sighering sighere sigberhting sigberht s[ ] ing saweard saberhting saberht sledding sle[.] æscwining æscwine offing offa bedcing bedca[ ] sigefugl swæpping swæppa antsecging ants[ ] gesecging gesecg seaxneting15 Like Offa of the Mercians, the East Saxon king also has an ancestor named Offa, while the divine founder of his dynasty 10 Dumville, ‘The Anglian Collection of Royal Genealogies and Regnal Lists’, pp. 23-50. The relevant manuscripts are (1) A fragment written in early ninth-century Mercia, now London, British Library, Cotton Vespasian B. vi. (2) The genealogy from the first half of the tenth century in a copy of Bede’s Lives of Cuthbert, Cambridge, Corpus Christi College 183. (3) The lists included in the geographical and astronomical miscellany, London, British Library Cotton Tiberius B. v. (4) The famous twelfth-century collection of laws and other material known as the Textus Roffensis, Rochester, Cathedral Library, A. 3. 5. 11 Vespasian B. vi, f. 109v; edited by Dumville, ‘The Anglian Collection’, p. 30. 12 Davis, ‘Cultural Assimilation in the Anglo-Saxon Royal Genealogies’. 13 For a presentation of the comparable genealogy in the Historia Brittonum, see Chambers, Beowulf. An Introduction, pp. 195-8. The relationship of the various versions is discussed by Sisam, ‘Anglo-Saxon Royal Genealogies’. 14 Bede, HE, V.19. Yorke, ‘The Kingdom of the East Saxons’, pp. 22-3. 15 Dumville, ‘The West Saxon Genealogical Regnal List: Manuscripts and Texts’, especially the plate on p. 3. For an edited version, see Dumville’s text or Sweet, The Oldest English Texts, p. 179.

16

Bately, The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, MS A, p. 1. (‘In the year when 494 years had gone by since Christ’s birth, Cerdic and Cynric his son came up at Cerdic’s Shore with five ships. This Cerdic was the son of Elesa, the son of Esla, the son of Giwis, the son of Wig, the son of Freawine, the son of Frithugar, the son of Brond, the son of Bældæg, the son of Woden.’) For another translation, with – on the facing page – the very different Topographical Preface of MS E, see Swanton, The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, pp. 2-3. MS E, ‘The Peterborough Chronicle’, copied in the early twelfth century from a Canterbury exemplar, is far more restricted in its use of genealogies. 18 See Flower and Smith, The Parker Chronicle and Laws, folio 10a. 19 Magoun, ‘Cynewulf, Cyneheard, and Osric’, pp. 361-76. Towers, ‘Thematic Unity in the Story of Cynewulf and Cyneheard’, pp. 310-16. 20 White, ‘Kinship and Lordship in Early Medieval England: The Story of Cynewulf and Cyneheard’, p. 17. 17

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Mark Atherton Offa is not only identified clearly and located precisely in the temporal record, his position is also strengthened by what an anthropologically minded critic has called the ‘weight of ancestry’;26 As F. M. Stenton pointed out, the knowledge of the genealogy of the Mercian kings was politically significant: it gave them an authority that originated in the ‘men who had ruled the whole Anglian race before its migration to Britain’.27

usually treated as a separate episode and not discussed in conjunction with the accession of Offa.21 As scholars have shown, the Cynewulf episode’s stylistic features of ‘detailed narration’,22 extended chronology, and ‘artful slipping’ into direct speech23 suggest that it had circulated independently, perhaps as an oral ‘saga’ narrative, before being inserted among the characteristically much briefer annals of the Chronicle.24 Stylistically, the text is not an annal but a story. It has a plot with an exposition and a climax, the exposition briefly retelling the events after 757 that led to the feud, the climax narrating (in much greater detail and with conscious plot-shaping) the two-day series of fights at Merantun in 786. There are, however, connections between the account of Cyneheard and that of Offa in the full text of the annal which merit further scrutiny.

4. The Laws of Alfred The reputation of Offa in the Chronicle is mirrored by Alfred’s approval of Offa in the Preface to his Laws. Stylistically this is not one of Alfred’s most successful pieces, since it is verbose and repetitive, almost colloquial, perhaps composed quickly by dictation and not revised afterwards. As in the preface to the translation of Augustine’s Soliloquies,28 his main image is one of gathering material – and selecting and recording the best of what he finds. He modestly does not presume to set down all of his own laws because he cannot be sure whether they will be pleasing to those who come after him. Instead, as he says, ‘whenever I came across laws – either from the time of Ine my kinsman, from the time of Offa king of the Mercians or from the time of Æthelberht (the first of all the English to be baptised) – and whenever they seemed to me most just – I gathered them here, and the others I discarded’.29 The mention of the Laws of Offa is puzzling, since no law code has survived; perhaps Alfred meant the canons promulgated by the two papal legates to England in 786.30 Interestingly from our point of view, Alfred highlights only three kings for special mention: naturally his own ‘kinsman’ or what we would call his ancestor, Ine of the West Saxons, and understandably also Æthelberht of Kent (the first Christian king). But with these he associates another great figure of the past: Offa King of the Mercians.

Like many plots, this story does not end abruptly with the climax and its resolution; there is a concluding passage which functions as a final ‘coda’ or evaluation, giving the length of Cynewulf’s reign, his burial place and ancestry and then continuing with the accession of Offa in Mercia. In its appearance on the manuscript page and its style and rhetoric, though not (strictly speaking) in its chronology, the account of the feud blends seamlessly with the account of Offa’s accession by a series of verbal repetitions. Thus the Chronicler records the length of the reign ‘se Cynewulf ricsode .xxxi. wintra’ (‘that Cynewulf reigned 31 years’). He states where the two men lie buried (‘and his body lies at Winchester, and the ætheling’s at Axminster’), asserts that their lineage goes back to Cerdic, and then turns to Mercia. ‘In the same year,’ he writes, causing momentary confusion in the reader until he or she remembers that this phrase refers to the annal in the margin of the page (755/757) and not to the year of the fight at Merantun (784/786), ‘Æthelbald, king of Mercia, was killed at Seckington, and his body lies at Repton’. The length of the reign is then stated (‘and he ruled 41 years). Offa – a new character – now appears for the first time and, as with Cynewulf and Æthelbald, the duration of his reign is given: ‘and the same year Offa succeeded to the kingdom and held it 39 years’. True to the formulaic pattern of demonstrative se before the name (‘that Offa was Thingfrith’s son...’), the Chronicler goes on to give him his full ancestry, tracing it back through Eomer, Offa, and Wermund down to the divine ancestor Woden. By such parallelism and rhetorical use of genealogies, both Cynewulf and Offa are given the implicit approval of the narrative.25

5. Allusions to Offa in Beowulf I turn now to mentions of Offa in Old English poetry, briefly addressing the much-debated question of whether the references in Beowulf and Widsith to Offa of the Angles indicate connections with Offa of Mercia. As we shall see, this is not the only way of addressing the problem. In view of the interest during the later Anglo-Saxon period in the copying and reading of vernacular poetic collections such as the Exeter Book and the Nowell Codex, in which these 26

Hill, The Cultural World in Beowulf, p. 45. Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, p. 40. 28 ‘I then gathered for myself staves and props and tie-shafts, and handles for each of the tools that I knew how to work with, and cross-bars and beams, and, for each of the structures which I knew how to build, the finest timbers I could carry.’ See Keynes and Lapidge, Alfred the Great. p. 138. 29 For the text of the laws, see Attenborough, The Laws of the Earliest English Kings. The relevant passage (p. 62) reads: Ic ða Ælfred cyning þás togædere gegaderode, 7 awritan het monege þara þe ure foregengan heoldon, þara ðe me licodon; 7 manege þara þe me ne licodon ic awearp mid minra witena geðeahte, 7 on oðre wisan bebead to healdanne. Forðam ic ne dorste geðristlæcan þara minra awuht fela on gewrit settan, forðam me was uncuð, hwæt þæs ðam lician wolde, ðe æfter us wæren. Ac ða ðe ic gemette awðer oððe on Ines dæge, mines mæges, oððe on Offan Mercna cyninges oððe on Æþelbryhtes, þe ærest fulluhte onfeng on Angelcynne, þa ðe me ryhtoste ðuhton, ic þa heron gegaderode, 7 þa oðre forlet. Ic ða Ælfred Westseaxna cyning eallum minum witum þas geeowde, 7 hie ða cwædon þæt him þæt licode eallum to healdanne. 30 Wormald, ‘In Search of Offa’s “Law-Code”’.

21

27

The episode has often been printed separately, without the concluding Offa material; see for instance ‘Cynewulf and Cyneheard’, the first item in Sweet, An Anglo-Saxon Reader, the popular textbook which went through nine editions from 1876 to 1922. Sweet’s text ends with words ‘oft gewundad’. In Whitelock’s revised version, Sweet’s Anglo-Saxon Reader in Prose and Verse, the editorial policy changed and the full text of the annal was printed. 22 Meaney, ‘St Neot’s, Æthelweard and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: A Survey’, p. 231. 23 Reichman, ‘Artful Slipping in Old English’, p. 285. 24 Wright, The Cultivation of Saga in Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 26-8; Wrenn ‘A Saga of the Anglo-Saxons’; Waterhouse, ‘The Theme and Structure of 755 Anglo-Saxon Chronicle’. 25 Arguably, such techniques provide a (temporary) sense of closure, despite the fact that this effect is not normally created in the ongoing narrative in which the genre of the chronicle normally consists. For a discussion of the differences between annal, chronicle and history, see White, ‘The Value of Narrativity in the Representation of Reality’, pp. 1-25.

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Mentions of Offa in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Beowulf and Widsith to the tale.39 A few scholars doubt the whole existence of Thryth and attribute her murderous ways to Hygd,40 but this creates more problems than it solves. Whoever she is, the woman is subdued and transformed by her marriage to Offa, and the whole section ends with his eulogy. There may be ‘an allegorical parallel’ between this queen in the poem and the historical Cynethryth, wife of the Mercian Offa,41 or even with the legendary evil queen Drida or Quendrida of the later (twelfth-century) tales of Offa.42

poems occur, the question can be reformulated from a different perspective: did the scribes and readers of these manuscripts make the connection between the two Offas? The eulogy to Offa of the Angles in Beowulf during Beowulf’s homecoming to Geatland31 raises a whole host of difficulties, not least of which is Sisam’s suggestion that the passage is a ‘crude’ and ‘extraneous’ addition.32 Sisam appears to agree with W.P.Ker’s remark that the construction of Beowulf was ‘curiously weak, in a sense preposterous’.33 At present, critics are more receptive to the cumulative, episodic structure of Beowulf and other medieval texts,34 and (ironically, given his earlier opinion on the structure of Beowulf) Ker’s remark of 1908 on the style of the Icelandic Saga as ‘a series of pictures rising in the mind, succeeding, displacing and correcting one another’ can be fittingly applied to the episodes of Beowulf.35 A recent linguistic analysis using structuralist techniques has characterised the episodes as either based on similarity/contrast or contiguity.36 An example of similarity is when Beowulf kills Grendel in the main story just as Sigemund killed the dragon in the episode re-told (Beowulf, lines 874-915). Contiguity is an associative link, as when Wiglaf draws his ‘ancient sword that was – among men – the heirloom of Eanmund, Ohtere’s son’ (lines 2611-2612a); this leads to a digression on the fight between Eanmund and Weoxstan (261b-2625a). The Offa episode fits the similarity pattern, as we shall see. Nevertheless, there is some evidence from its style that the Offa digression is an anomaly, since it is ‘the only similarity digression not presented as part of a speech or a song’, and it occurs in the last textual unit written by the first scribe, who stops writing halfway through at line 1939.37

Other names later in the Offa episode are equally difficult. Consider the case of lines 1960b-62, which may be transcribed diplomatically as ‘þonon geomor woc hæleðum to helpe heminges mæg nefa garmundes niða cræftig’43 and translated fairly literally as ‘when the sad one awoke as the ally of heroes, Hemming’s kinsman, Garmund’s nephew, accomplished in battles.’ As the transcription shows, the connections with the Mercian genealogy list would not have been obvious to a reader of the manuscript in the early eleventh century. To make the genealogy fit, geomor has to be emended to ‘Eomer’, nefa is given the extended sense of ‘grandson’, Hemminges mæg is now seen to be designating Eomer rather than Offa (as at 1944b) and ‘Garmund’ has to be understood as being ‘Wermund’:44 hæleðum to helpe, nefa Garmundes,

þonon Eeomer woc Hemminges mæg, niða cræftig.45

Bradley translates: ‘To them was born Eomer, kinsman of Hemming, grandson of Garmund, to be the help of heroes, accomplished in warlike deeds.’46 Arguably, however, the second scribe of the poem did not recognize the Mercian connections; as Rickert argued, he perhaps knew a different

Arguments linking the episode with Offa’s Mercia are problematical, not only because of issues about the dating of the poem, but also because they partly rely on the identification of certain words in the text as names, although, as in most writing of the period, the two scribes do not normally capitalise proper nouns, and often separate with a space the two elements of a compound. Thus the crucial half-line ‘mod þryðo wæg’ (1931b) has given rise to four possible names: Modthryth, Thryth, Modthrytho and Thrytho. The context here is usually seen as an abrupt switch from a description of Hygd, Hygelac’s queen (lines 1926b1931a), in order to contrast her exemplary ‘thoughtfulness’ (the literal meaning of the word ‘hygd’) with the strength (‘þryð’) and/or pride (‘mod’) of queen Thryth,38who has any man executed who so much as dares to look at her. This is the general view of the episode, and feminist critics have lauded the frisson that this disturbing female character adds

39

Overing, ‘The Women of Beowulf’, at pp. 248-53. Eliason, ‘The “Thryth-Offa Digression” in Beowulf’. 41 ‘The vindictive character here given to Thrytho is a poetic and veiled admonition addressed to Cynethryth.’ The formulation is that of Earle, The Deeds of Beowulf, p. lxxxv. On the grounds of the ‘fair certainty’ of the early date of Beowulf and the lack of proof that the passage is an interpolation, Earle’s theory was dismissed by Chambers, Beowulf. An Introduction, pp. 37-8. 42 For the relevant passage from the Lives of the Two Offas, see Chambers, Beowulf, pp. 239-43. An equally vindictive Quendrida (Old English Cwoenthryth) occurs in the eleventh-century Life and Miracles of St Kenelm: ‘Cwoenthryth, having taken control of the kingdom gained by fratricide, terrorized everyone with the edict that if anybody were to look for Kenelm or show where he was, or even mention the name, he would without delay be executed.’ See Love, Three Eleventh-Century Anglo-Latin Saints’ Lives. Vita S. Birini, Vita et miracula S. Kenelmi and Vita S. Rumwoldi pp. 63-5. Another wicked queen was Eadburh, Offa’s daughter, who married Beorhtric, king of the West Saxons and ‘began to behave like a tyrant after the manner of her father – to loathe every man whom Beorhtric liked, to do all things hateful to God and men, to denounce all those whom she could before the king, and thus by trickery to deprive them of either life or power...’ See Keynes and Lapidge, Alfred the Great, pp. 72-4. 43 London, British Library, Cotton Vitellius A. xv, folio 176r. Davis, Beowulf Reproduced in Facsimile, os 245; Malone, The Nowell Codex, 12. 44 It must be admitted that the interchange of the letters G/W is not impossible in the transmission of these names; thus in the Historia Brittonum, the Mercian genealogy is Eamer, Ongen, Offa, Guerdmund, Guithleg, Gueagon, Guedolgeat, Uoden; see Chambers, Beowulf, p. 198. 45 Mitchell and Robinson, Beowulf, lines 1960b-1962. 46 Bradley, Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. 463. 40

31

Mitchell and Robinson, Beowulf , lines 1931b-1962. Sisam, The Structure of Beowulf, p. 50. 33 Ker, The Dark Ages, p. 253. On the same page Ker observed that the Beowulf poet put ‘the irrelevancies at the centre and the serious things on the outer edges’, an opinion hotly contested by Tolkien in his celebrated essay ‘Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics’, passim. 34 Evans, ‘Episodes in Analysis of Medieval Narrative’, pp. 126-41. 35 Ker, Epic and Romance. Essays on Medieval Literature, p. 237. 36 Diller, ‘Contiguity and Similarity in the Beowulf Digressions’. 37 See the theory of double authorship and late date in Kiernan, Beowulf and the Beowulf Manuscript. 38 Klaeber, ‘Zum Beowulf. I. Zur Þryðo-Episode’. Malone, ‘Hygd’; Malone, ‘Beowulf’; Bonjour, The Digressions in Beowulf. 32

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Mark Atherton story and felt ‘bound to correct’.47 Moreover, as she also pointed out, there is an external argument for keeping the reading ‘the sad one’, since ‘the word geomor answers perfectly to Saxo’s description of Offa’s youth’.48

(surprisingly, since this is Widsith’s own tribe). This is the text, in Bradley’s translation (p. 338): Offa ruled Anglen, Alewih the Danes, who was the most spirited of all those people; he did not, however, accomplish heroic achievements beyond those of Offa, for of these men Offa, being in his youth, first conquered the greatest of kingdoms. No one contemporary with him made a greater heroic achievement in battle. With his lone sword he defined a frontier against the Myrgingas at Fifeldor. From then on the Angles and the Swabians maintained it as Offa had conquered it.

The most successful recent approach to the difficult question of the two Offas in Beowulf is to leave aside such textual problems and look, as Clemoes does, at stylistic, arthistorical and linguistic patterns in larger contexts, at ‘interactions of thought and language’ which suggest connections with early modes of thinking. These he then associates with Mercia of the eighth century.49 Clemoes points to parallels between the man Beowulf and the king Offa, and between both of these and the imperial horseman on the Repton stone.50 Offa in Beowulf is praised as the ‘noblest man amid the encircling seas’,51 just as earlier in the poem Beowulf himself is praised by the Danes because ‘amid the circling seas ... no other man was more worthy of dominion’.52 Clemoes’ ideas chime well with another approach to the Offa digression in Beowulf. As Nicholas Howe reminds us, the expression be sæm tweononum is used also for Æschere (line 1297) and Hrothgar (1685), and he remarks: ‘the phrase may be formulaic, but the poet reserves it for deserving figures’.53 Howe regards the occasion of the homecoming of Beowulf ‘the emergent hero’ as an appropriate one for heroic allusions to Offa and the ‘ancestral homeland’ of the Anglo-Saxons.54 For Howe, it is grist to his mill, and further support to his thesis that a ‘basic core belief’ in significant origins existed throughout the Anglo-Saxon period, with differing expressions dependent on changing circumstances; in short, the Anglo-Saxons believed they were ‘a chosen people to whom a promised land had been promised by virtue of their migration’.55

Great prominence is given to Offa; with Alewih, he is the last in the catalogue of rulers (lines 18-35), but unlike the others he is more than simply a name in a list. Note here the insistence on Offa’s superiority to Alewih of the Danes and the allusive style of the narrative. The events of the battle at Fifeldor (on an island at the mouth of the Eider river) are only briefly summarised, presumably because they were known to the audience, but they can be reconstructed from later analogues. The idea of the ‘lone sword’ (ane sweorde) appears to refer to the story, told in three versions around the beginning of the twelfth century, of Offa’s single combat with the leader and champion of his father’s enemies.56 In Saxo Grammaticus, to take one of the three versions, this sword, ‘which, at a single blow of the smiter struck straight through and cleft any obstacle whatsoever’, is presented by the aged Wermundus to his son Uffa (as he is called here) after he has roused himself from the dull torpor of his youth and involved himself in the crisis of the nation. Eventually Uffa is victorious in the fight on the island, and secures the kingdom. A look at the original Old English suggests parallels, perhaps intentional, with Offa of the Mercians. In particular the words Ongle (line 35) and merce (line 42) will require our brief attention:

6. The Figure of Offa in Widsith Like the author (or authors) of Beowulf, the poet of Widsith in the Exeter Book may also have intended his audience to make general parallels between the two Offas. In the relevant passage (Widsith, lines 35-44), the poet-narrator eulogises Offa of the Angles for his superiority to Alewih of the Danes; he then praises Offa’s battle against the Myrgingas

Offa weold Ongle, Alewih Denum. No wæs þara manna modgast ealra. No hwæþre he ofer Offan eorlscype fremede, ac Offa geslog ærest monna, cniht wesende, cynerica mæst. Nænig efeneald him eorlscipe maran onorette. Ane sweorde merce gemærde wið Myrgingum bi Fifeldore. Heoldon forð siþþan, Engle and Swæfe, swa hit Offa geslog.57

47

Rickert, ‘The Old English Offa Saga’, p. 29. Rickert, ‘The Old English Offa Saga’, p. 27. For the ‘dull and foolish’ youth Offa, who suddenly spoke up and challenged the Saxon prince, see Saxo Grammaticus, Danish History, in Chambers, Beowulf, p. 219, and my discussion of Widsith below. 49 Clemoes, Interactions of Thought and Language in Old English Poetry. 50 For the Repton stone see Clemoes, Interactions, p. 60, fig.1. 51 Beowulf, lines 1954b-7a: hæleða brego, ealles moncynnes mine gefræge þæs selestan bi sæm tweonum eormencynnes (‘for the heroes’ king – the noblest man, I have heard tell, of all the mighty race of mankind amid the encircling oceans’, Bradley, AngloSaxon Poetry, p. 463). 52 Beowulf, lines 857b-61: ðær wæs Beowulfes / mærðo mæned; monig oft gecwæð, / þætte suð ne norð be sæm tweonum / ofer eormengrund oþer nænig / under swegles begong selra nære / rondhæbbendra, rices wyrðra (‘There Beowulf’s glorious exploit was related; repeatedly, many a man declared that south or north throughout the mighty earth amidst the encircling oceans there was no other shield-bearing man beneath the bright sky’s vault more noble, more worthy of dominion’, Bradley, Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. 434). 53 Howe, Migration and Mythmaking in Anglo-Saxon England, p. 157. 54 Howe, Migration and Mythmaking, p. 158. 55 Howe, Migration and Mythmaking, p. 180. 48

35

42

Kemp Malone suggests that the odd spelling Ongle in the first line of the episode is an emendation by the scribe. The original sentence in the older copy perhaps read: ‘Offa weold Englum, Alewih Denum’ giving a neater syntactic parallel between the one verb weold and its two objects the dative plurals Englum and Denum.58 When the poem was first 56 For translations of the relevant sections of Aageson, A Brief History of the Kings of Denmark, Saxo Grammaticus, Danish History, and the St Albans story Lives of the Two Offas, see Garmonsway, Simpson, Davidson, Beowulf and its Analogues, pp. 222-35. 57 Malone, Widsith. 58 Malone, Widsith, p. 40. The word Engle (‘Angles’) occurs at line 44.

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Mentions of Offa in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Beowulf and Widsith Ecclesiastica,62 which appears to take its information from a copy of the Chronicle.63 In his annal for 757 the Latin translator does not get the wrong date for Offa’s accession but he does wrongly assume that Cynewulf died in the same year, a misunderstanding which, as we saw above, can only arise if the 755 Chronicle text of the ‘Cynewulf and Cyneheard’ story is not read with particular care and attention. Using the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as his source, then, the writer of the Continuatio wrote the following:

performed, an English audience perhaps misunderstood the story as referring to the Offa who ruled the English rather than the Offa who ruled the Angles. The very need that the scribe felt to make the distinction clear suggests that the two Offas could have been associated in the minds of audience and reader.59 The other term to consider is in line 42. Again this may have suggested Mercia in the minds of the audience. The idea of Offa ‘defining his frontier’ could also have had associations with the kingdom-building activities of the other (Mercian) Offa. As Dorothy Whitelock wrote, ‘it is tempting to take the definite reference to a boundary in Widsith as a complimentary reminder that a greater Offa built a greater boundary, Offa’s Dyke’. Even the sound of the word merce in the expression ‘merce gemærde’ perhaps reminded the hearers of ‘Offa, Myrcna cyning’ of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, since as well as meaning ‘march’, ‘frontier’ or ‘frontier land’, the word merce can also mean ‘Mercia’ or ‘Mercians’.60 For a similar expression to ‘merce gemærde’ we could compare the phrase ‘Myrce geeode’ from the opening lines of the Chronicle poem composed for the Capture of the Five Boroughs in 942:

Anno DCCLVII Aedilbald rex Merciorum a suis tutoribus nocte morte fraudulentia miserabiliter peremptus occubuit; Beornred regnare coepit. Cyniuulfus rex Occidentalium Saxonum obiit. Eodem etiam anno Offa, fugato Beornredo, Merciorum regnum sanguinolento quaesiuit gladio.64 The Latin of the Continuatio is considerably more critical of Offa than the Old English of the Chronicle. But in the light of the present discussion, notice should also be taken of the additions that the Latin writer has made to the annal, in particular the rhetorical mention of the ‘sword’ with which Offa makes his bid for the kingdom of the Mercians. Bearing in mind the textual idiosyncrasies of both Widsith and the Chronicle, I return now to ‘the sword which king Offa owned’ and its subsequent ownership by Edmund Ætheling from 1014. As we have seen, a slightly later tradition of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (s.a. 1057) recorded Edmund’s appellation Ironside ‘for his bravery’, but the entry for the year 1016 is implicit in praising the popularity and strength of the new king:

Her Eadmund cyning, Engla þeoden, mægþa mundbora, Myrce geeode, dyre dædfruma, swa Dor sceadæð Hwitanwyllesgeat 7 Himbran ea, brada brymstream...61 Interestingly, the writer seems self-consciously aware of the double meaning of Myrce, for he goes on to define that nation’s borders before continuing with his main point, a passage listing the names of the five towns which Edmund recovered during his campaign.

ealle þa witan þe on Lundene wæron 7 seo buruhwaru gecuron Eadmunde to cyninge, 7 he his rice heardlice wæ ode þa hwile þe his tima wæs.65

7. Conclusions For various reasons, then, whether or not the original composer of Widsith intended a tribute to Offa of Mercia, the later audience may have perceived one. The same is true of the other Old English texts reviewed in this essay. All without exception can be seen as enhancing the later reputation of Offa king of the Mercians. This is true even of MS A of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which despite its West Saxon bias gives implicit support to Offa, at least in the annal for 755 (757). In general, of course, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle was widely read and used in the later period. Specific evidence of actually how it was read is found in translations of its Old English text by Latin writers, a good example being the text of the Continuatio of Bede’s Historia

In the end, of course, the kingdom was temporarily divided, Edmund succeeding to the West Saxon and Cnut to the northern part. But by then, despite the brevity of his rule, Edmund’s reputation was also well founded. In later tradition, Edmund reportedly fought, or intended to fight, against Cnut in single combat, a meeting or ‘coming together’ on an island in the Severn, 66 which eventually brought about 62 Eight manuscripts of Bede from the twelfth century and later contain this text; they are listed, HE, pp. lxviii-lxix. 63 Bede, HE p. 575, note 9: ‘Cynewulf died in 786. The compiler has misread the famous Anglo-Saxon Chronicle annal for 757 (755), which recounts the whole story of the life and death of Cynewulf under the date of his gaining the throne of Wessex.’ 64 (‘Æthelbald, king of the Mercians, was treacherously killed at night by his bodyguard in shocking fashion; and Beornred came to the throne; Cynewulf king of the West Saxons died; in the same year Offa put Beornred to flight and attempted to conquer the Mercian kingdom with sword and bloodshed.’) Bede, HE pp. 574 and 575. 65 (‘and all the counsellors who were in London and the citizens chose Edmund as king, and he stoutly defended his kingdom for the time that was his.’) 66 The idea of a single combat perhaps arose from a later misreading of the phrase ‘to come together’ (which sometimes implies ‘to fight’) in the annal for 1016: ‘coman begen þa cyningas togædre æt Olanige wið Deorhyrste, 7 wurdon feolagan 7 wedbroðra’ (‘the two kings came together at Ola’s Island near Deerhurst, and they became partners and pledged brothers’). Cubbin, Anglo-Saxon Chronicle MS D, p. 62; cf. Swanton, Anglo-Saxon

59 The possibility of confusion between the two nations must have been there in the mind of the poet himself. Hill, Old English Minor Poems (p. 95) comments: ‘When Widsið is said to travel eastan of Ongle (l. 8), the point of view is clearly English: he travels from the east (i.e. from a country lying east of England), and it is specified that in doing so he travels of Ongle ‘from Ongel’. 60 The feminine noun merc (mearc) has an accusative form merce, while Mierce or Merce (not normally written with an initial captial letter in the manuscripts) is a masculine plural noun meaning ‘Mercians’. 61 Cubbin, Anglo-Saxon Chronicle MS D, p. 43. (‘Here King Edmund, lord of the English, guardian of kindred, beloved instigator of deeds, conquered Mercia, bounded by the The Dore, Whitwell Gap and Humber River, broad ocean-stream’.) For the translation, see Swanton, The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, p. 110.

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Mark Atherton the peaceful settlement and division of rule.67 In this account, Edmund on Ola’s Island appears in the same legendary light as Offa on the island at Fifeldor on the River Eider, fighting the enemy leader to preserve the security of his kingdom. As the dynastic struggles of Beowulf and early English history show, it was no mean achievement if the country was preserved from anarchy on the death of a king. In this respect, Howe writes on the Offa of Fifeldor in Widsith: ‘by leaving his mark on the map of his world, Offa exemplifies the great heroic leader and thus earns the poet’s extended eulogy’.68 I will conclude with one final speculation. An eleventhcentury literary audience may have known of Offa’s fame as recorded in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and other texts; they may have known also of Offa’s sword, owned by Edmund Ironside. If so, a reading or recitation of Widsith, a poem from the pre-migration period, would have captured their attention, for here they could listen to a poem about another hero of legendary status, who ‘with his single sword defined the marchlands’.

Chronicle, p. 152. 67 Ashdown, ‘The Single Combat in Certain Cycles of English and Scandinavian Traditional Romance’, pp. 113-30. 68 Howe, The Old English Catalogue Poems, p. 179.

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Mentions of Offa in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Beowulf and Widsith J. Bessinger, Jr., and R.P Creed, eds, Franciplegius. Medieval and Linguistic Studies in Honor of Francis Peobody Magoun, Jr. (New York, 1965), pp. 124-38.

Abbreviations Bede, HE The Ecclesiastical History of the English People, eds, B. Colgrave and R.A.B. Mynors (Oxford 1969).

Evans, J.D., ‘Episodes in Analysis of Medieval Narrative’, Style 20, no. 2 (1986), pp 126-41.

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Kiernan, K., Beowulf and the Beowulf Manuscript (Ann Arbor, 1996).

Diller, H-J., ‘Contiguity and Similarity in the Beowulf Digressions’ in W-D. Bald and H. Weinstock, eds, Medieval Studies Conference Aachen 1983, Bamberger Beiträge zur englischen Sprachwissenschaft 15 (Frankfurt am Main, 1984) pp. 71-83.

Klaeber, F., ‘Zum Beowulf. I. Zur Þryðo-Episode’, Anglia 28 (1905) pp. 448-52. Love, R.C., Three Eleventh-Century Anglo-Latin Saints’ Lives: Vita S. Birini, Vita et Miracula S. Kenelmi and Vita S. Rumwoldi (Oxford, 1996).

Dumville, D.N., ‘The West Saxon Genealogical Regnal List: Manuscripts and Texts’, Anglia 104 (1986) pp. 1-32.

Magoun, F.P., ‘Cynewulf, Cyneheard and Osric’ Anglia 57 (1933), pp 361-76.

Dumville, D.N., ‘The Anglian Collection of Royal Genealogies and Regnal Lists’ Anglo-Saxon England 5, (1970) pp. 23-50.

Malone, K., ‘Hygd’, Modern Language Notes 56 (1948) pp. 161-72.

Earle, J., A Handbook to the Land-Charters and other Saxonic Documents (Oxford, 1888). Earle, J., The Deeds of Beowulf (Oxford, 1892).

Malone, K., ed., The Nowell Codex, Early English Manuscripts in Facsimile 12 (Copenhagen, 1963).

Eliason, N.E., ‘The “Thryth-Offa Digression” in Beowulf’, in

Malone, K., ed., Widsith, Anglistica 13 (Copenhagen, 1962).

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Mark Atherton Wormald, P., ‘In Search of Offa’s “Law Code”’, in I. Wood and N. Lund, eds, People and Places in Northern Europe 500 – 1600. Essays in Honour of Peter Hayes Sawyer, (Woodbridge, 1991).

Meaney, A.L., ‘St Neot’s, Æthelweard and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: A Survey’, in ed. P.E. Szarmach,, Studies in Earlier Old English Prose (Albany, 1986), pp. 193-243. Mitchell, B. and F.C. Robinson, eds, Beowulf (Oxford, 1998).

Wrenn, C.L., ‘A Saga of the Anglo-Saxons’, History XXV (1940), pp. 208-15.

Mynors, R.A.B., R.M. Thomson and M. Winterborrom, eds, William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum Anglorum, The History of English Kings I, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford, 1998).

Wright, C.E., The Cultivation of Saga in Anglo-Saxon England (Edinburgh, 1939). Yorke, B., ‘The Kingdom of the East Saxons’ Anglo-Saxon England 14 (1985), pp. 1-36.

Overing, G.R., ‘The Women of Beowulf’ in ed. P.S. Baker, Beowulf Basic Readings (New York, 1995), pp. 219-60. Reichman, G., ‘Artful Slipping Neophilologus 70 (1986), pp. 2-91.

in

Old

English’,

Rickert, E., ‘The Old English Offa Saga’, Modern Philology 2.1 (1904), pp. 1-48. Sisam, K., ‘Anglo-Saxon Royal Genealogies’, Proceedings of the British Academy xxxix (1953), pp. 287-348. Sisam, K., The Structure of Beowulf (Oxford, 1965). Stenton, F.M., Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1971). Swanton, M., The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (London, 1996). Sweet, H., An Anglo-Saxon Reader (Oxford, 1876). Sweet, H., ed., The Oldest English Texts, Early English Texts Society os 83 (London, 1885). Tolkien, J.R.R., ‘Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics’ in The Monsters and the Critics and other Essays, ed. C. Tolkien (London 1983), pp. 5-48. Towers, T.H., ‘Thematic Unity in the Story of Cynewulf and Cyneheard’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology 62 (1963), pp. 310-16. Waterhouse, R., ‘The Theme and Structure of 755 AngloSaxon Chronicle’ Neuphilologische Mitteilungen 70 (1969), pp. 630-40. White, H., ‘The Value of Narrativity in the Representation of Reality’ in his The Content of the Form, Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation (Baltimore and London, 1987), pp. 1-25. White, S.D., ‘Kinship and Lordship in Early Medieval England: The Story of Cynewulf and Cyneheard’, Viator 20 (1989), pp. 1-18. Whitelock, D., ed., Anglo-Saxon Wills (Cambridge, 1930). Whitelock, D., Sweet’s Anglo-Saxon Reader in Prose and Verse (Oxford, 1967).

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Felix’s Life of Guthlac: history or hagiography? Audrey L. Meaney Felix’s Life of Guthlac1 has many different layers or aspects, and there are several disparate ways in which the modern scholar can read it. For example, we can examine it for the folkloric or historical (both political and ecclesiastical) information it can impart, or for its character as hagiography. We can also use the modern disciplines of archaeology and psychology and even place-names to test and to illuminate what Felix has to say.

Crowland, and based his account of the saint’s life there on interviews with ‘credible witnesses’: ‘Abbot Wilfrid’, and Cissa, who succeeded Guthlac at Crowland and was still living there when Felix was writing (VG Prologue and XXVIII). For the accounts of one dramatic incident (VG XXXV), and of Guthlac’s death (VG L), Felix was indebted to Beccel, who (after a bad start) had become Guthlac’s devoted follower. A date for the composition of the Life of about 730, fifteen or so years after Guthlac’s death, or a little later, seems probable.

The writer names himself Felix, and declares in his Prologue that he writes at the command of ‘his lord’ Ælfwald, king of the East Angles, who ruled from about 713 to 749.2 Ælfwald wrote to Boniface, sometime after 747, promising prayers from the monasteries of his kingdom3 and so was presumably a pious man, but virtually nothing else is known about him. He was the son of the previous king, Aldwulf,4 and according to Felix, his sister Ecgburh, who was an abbess, sent gifts to Guthlac (VG XLVIII), presumably not long before he died; and Guthlac declared his affection for her (VG L). Perhaps it was because of his sister’s friendship with Guthlac that the East Anglian king asked Felix to write the Life of a Mid Anglian saint. The twelfth-century Liber Eliensis calls Ecgburh Abbess of Repton, but this comes in a passage taken directly from Felix, and is probably pure guess-work.5 It is more probable, as Whitelock suggests,6 that she presided over an East Anglian foundation; if, however, she had been at Repton when Guthlac was there, it would provide a plausible context for their acquaintance.

Felix’s Life of Guthlac is virtually the only contemporary or nearly contemporary source for the saint’s existence. However, from the beginning Felix puts the Life into a chronological framework, apparently using versions of the Mercian Royal Genealogy and Regnal List older than any of those now extant.11 Anno Domini dates have to be obtained from elsewhere – usually from Bede’s Ecclesiastical History or from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. The historical framework can be summarized as follows (with my annotations in square brackets): VG I-XI:

Even less is known about Felix himself, and he is not recognised as the author of anything else. To judge from the text of his work, Felix had received the best education available at the time, in the Roman rather than the Celtic tradition,7 and must have been in a foundation (presumably East Anglian) with an impressive hagiographical library.8 As for the date of his Life of Guthlac, Felix borrowed much from Bede’s Prose Life of Cuthbert9 which was written no earlier than 721, but apparently did not know the Ecclesiastical History,10 which was completed by 731; nor did Bede know of the Life of Guthlac. Like a modern biographer, Felix appears to have undertaken research on Guthlac and

In the days of Æthelred ‘king of the English’, Penwalh [otherwise unknown], who was a descendant of Icel the ancestor of all the Mercian kings, had a well-furnished home in the district of the Mid Angles. He married a noble girl called Tette, and in the natural course of things their first son, Guthlac, was born; a golden hand was seen stretching down from heaven to a cross in front of the house.

Bede (HE V.24) and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle12 date the accession of Æthelred to Mercia in 675 on the death of his brother Wulfhere, and his abdication in order to enter a monastery in 704. It might seem from Felix’s wording here that Guthlac could have been born no earlier than 676. VG XVI-XVII: After a blameless youth, Guthlac gathered together a gang and ‘devastated the towns and residences of his foes’ thereby acquiring immense booty and even more followers. [During these years, apparently, he spent enough time as an exile among the British to learn their language, see VG XXXIV.]

1

Felix’s Life of Guthlac, ed. B. Colgrave; references to the text of the Life are given in brackets as VG, followed by the chapter number in roman numerals. 2 Colgrave, Felix’s Life of Guthlac, p. 16; references to the editorial material of the Life are given as VG, followed by the page number. See also Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 59, 63, 6671. 3 Tangl, Die Briefe des Heiligen Bonifatius und Lullus, pp. 181-2. Emerton, The Letters of Saint Boniface No. 81; pp. 149-50. 4 Stenton, ‘The East Anglian Kings’. 5 Blake, Liber Eliensis, p. 29 and n. 10. 6 Whitelock, ‘The pre-Viking age church in East Anglia’, p. 15, n. 8. 7 Whitelock, ‘The pre-Viking church’, pp. 11, 14, 16. 8 Thacker, ‘Social and Continental Background to Early Anglo-Saxon Hagiography’, ch. VII, pp. 279-328. 9 BVC; references given in brackets in the text. 10 HE; references given in brackets in the text.

The name Guthlac appears among the signatories of two probably genuine charters of Æthelred of Mercia belonging to the years 691-2, but there can be no certainty that this is the future saint.13 VG XVIII-XIX: After nine successful years of warfare, Guthlac experienced a conversion, and 11

Dumville, ‘The Anglian collection of royal genealogies and regnal lists’. ASC; references given in brackets in the text. 13 Roberts, ‘An Inventory of Early Guthlac Materials’, p. 219. 12

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Felix’s Life of Guthlac: History or Hagiography? VG XX-XXIII: went to Repton, where he received the Petrine tonsure under the abbess Ælfthryth, renounced alcohol, learnt to read, to sing psalms, and the rest of the church routine. He stayed there for two years, and then VG XXIV-XXVII: decided to ‘seek the desert’, following the example of ‘monks of former days’, about whom he had read. He went directly to the fens, and was told by a man called Tatwine about a remote island called Crowland. Tatwine took him there in a fisherman’s skiff; he explored it, considered it suitable, and went back to visit ‘his companions’, with whom he stayed for 90 days, returning with two boys on St Bartholomew’s Day, 25th August. [Felix tells us that Guthlac was then aged about 26.] VG XXVIII-XLV: He built a hut over a robber pit in a barrow, and lived a life of great austerity, eating one meal a day of barley bread and muddy water, wearing only animal skins, praying every night, seeing visions and performing miracles. VG XXXIV: One of his visions took place in the time of Cœnred [Æthelred’s nephew, who ruled Mercia from 704 to 709; HE V.24], when Britons were raiding. VG XXXV: Beccel, Guthlac’s voluntary servant, who came every twenty days to tonsure him, was urged by the devil to kill him; but Guthlac perceived his intention, and talked him out of it, promising help. VG XLVI-XLVII: Guthlac was visited by Headda, [identified by Colgrave as bishop of Lichfield from 691 and Leicester also from 709, dying sometime after 71614]. Headda consecrated a church at Crowland, and ordained Guthlac as its priest. Crowland must then have belonged to the Mid Anglian diocese. VG XLVIII: Abbess Ecgburh (aforementioned) sent gifts of a lead coffin and a linen cloth, and asked who would occupy Guthlac’s place after his death. He said the man still lived among a pagan people; and this turned out to be true of his successor Cissa. VG XLIX: Æthelbald [grandson of Penda’s brother] was being harassed by Ceolred [Æthelred’s son, king of Mercia from 709 onwards]; Æthelbald came to Guthlac, who prophesied that he would become king. VG L: After fifteen years of a solitary life, Guthlac took sick over Easter, and died after eight days. He had told Beccel to go and inform his sister Pega when he died, and she came to Crowland and buried him. VG LI: Twelve months later she wished to translate her brother’s body, found it without corruption, and placed it in a shrine, which Æthelbald later embellished. VG LII: When Æthelbald, living in distant parts, heard of Guthlac’s death, he came to the sepulchre, and 14

VG LIII:

prayed for help. He stayed in his usual hut and had a vision of Guthlac, who told him that within a year he would be king. [The ASC gives the date of his accession as 716.] Describes a post mortem miracle performed by Pega, using salt consecrated by Guthlac.

Guthlac died on 11th April, which Colgrave tells us was the Wednesday of Easter week in 714,15 which is when the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle dates Guthlac’s death. Therefore we can work out an approximate chronology for Guthlac’s life. Fifteen years at Crowland takes us back to about 699 for the date of his arrival there, and if he was twenty-six at the time, he must have been born about 674, at the very beginning of or even just before Æthelred’s reign. However, if he were not born until 676, which the first four chapters imply, he would have only been twenty-four when he went to Crowland. Two years at Repton dates Guthlac’s conversion to 697, at an age between twenty-two and twenty-four; and the beginning of his nine years of warrior life to 688, when he was between thirteen and fifteen. It may be significant that noble boys normally seem to have joined the geoguð (the comitatus or war band) in their teens, become senior warriors (duguð) and were given estates by their kings in their midtwenties, at about the age that Guthlac went to Repton.16 How far can Felix’s evidence be taken as reliable? The earliest manuscript of his work is from the ninth century,17 but Felix’s chronology checks out, and many of the events he relates have the kind of circumstantial detail that gives them verisimilitude. The fact that Æthelbald, who had known Guthlac in the last years of his life, was still alive when Felix was writing, militates against Guthlac’s career being wholly fictitious. This is not to imply, however, that Felix never twisted the evidence to make Guthlac’s life fit the pattern he wanted. A possible problem concerns the account of his life as a warrior. Felix appears somewhat uncomfortable about these years, emphasising that Guthlac returned some of the booty he acquired. The fact that Guthlac went as a soldier at the age of fifteen, the same age as Martin of Tours when he was unwillingly inducted into the army by his father, has been considered suspicious. Yet we can only discover the coincidence of their ages by complicated calculations, and the circumstances appear very different – Martin seems to have avoided fighting, for example,18 and the way in which each departed from the army is so distinct that we can probably take what Felix says about Guthlac’s young manhood as true, by and large. Guthlac’s conversion has also been the subject of varying interpretations. Recently, Henderson has argued that this may have been a political act,19 and not entirely voluntary. Did the remarkable portent at Guthlac’s birth reflect his position as an æþeling, one of those male descendants of the 15

VG, p. 193. Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England, p. 163. 17 Roberts, ‘An Inventory of Early Guthlac Materials’, pp. 194-5. 18 Hoare, ‘Sulpicius Severus, Life of Martin’. 19 Henderson, Vision and Image in Early Christian England, pp. 215-21. 16

VG, p. 190; see also Page, ‘Anglo-Saxon Episcopal Lists’.

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Audrey L. Meaney royal line from whom the king would be chosen?20 Did his early ‘exile’ among the Britons mean that he had been a hostage? Or was he taking refuge from Æthelred because he was in danger as a potential pretender? Could he have been implicated in the murder of Osthryth, Æthelred’s queen, sister of Ecgfrith of Northumbria, who was killed by ‘her own Mercian nobles’ in 697 (HE V.24), the year before Guthlac went to Repton? Was Guthlac forced into ‘political paralysis’ by tonsuring?21 Did Beccel’s attempted assassination have the aim of gaining the approval of ‘kings and princes’ threatened by Guthlac’s very existence? Did his withdrawal to the fenland frontier zone make him a kind of political prisoner? There are no certain answers to any of these questions.

him by correspondence or proxy – even his sister was not allowed to come there until after his death. No doubt the fact that Guthlac died at about forty years old, and Cuthbert at about fifty-three, whereas Antony is said to have lived for more than a century (80+ years in the Egyptian desert), and Sabas for ninety-seven years (at least 60 in the Judaean desert) reflects the difference that asceticism can make to health when carried out in a cold damp climate as opposed to a warm dry one. The general shape of Felix’s Life is modelled on that of the Egyptian, then, but (like some modern scholars, including me) he has allowed his research to get out of hand, and has been at pains to press his hero into the saintly mould. For example, all ascetic saints appear to have seen visions of a frightening kind. Felix describes Guthlac’s in such an exaggerated way that the effect becomes comic, but they are clearly related to Antony’s and were perhaps intended to surpass those of Fursey, the Irishman who for a time inhabited a Roman fort on the coast of Suffolk (see HE III.19), and whose Vita was known to and used by Felix.24

All these events, however, can be interpreted quite differently. Thacker saw Guthlac’s conversion in hagiographic terms as the working out of God’s grace in him,22 according to Augustinian ideas then current in the west. If we look at it from the psychological perspective however, a desire to retreat from the world after undergoing the horrors of warfare is by no means unusual. Among the ‘wretched deaths and shameful ends of the ancient kings of his race’, which Felix says influenced him to give up his raiding, Guthlac could have recalled that Penda, the last pagan king of Mercia, had been defeated and killed with 30 duces regii by Oswiu of Northumbria in 655, and that Penda’s Christian son Peada, sub-king of Mid Anglia, had been murdered by his wife (Oswiu’s daughter) only a year later (HE IV.12). Indeed, Guthlac may have started a trend in royal Mercian retreat into monasteries, for Æthelred abdicated for that purpose in 704, and his nephew and successor Cœnred left for Rome in 709.

But Felix borrowed other incidents from other saints’ Lives; neither Antony nor Cuthbert had had a portent at his birth, but Wilfrid had, and Felix borrows some of the description of the reactions of the villagers to embellish his own account of a red-gold hand stretching down out of the clouds to touch a cross in front of the house door. The pointing hand of God was already a hagiographic device, however. How far were the contemporary readers meant to believe this story? Or were they sophisticated enough to realise that the hand was simply a device to indicate future greatness, just as it is used today to try to persuade the optimistic to invest in the lottery?

The pattern of Guthlac’s life after his conversion has many resemblances to those of other hermit saints. There is a requirement to live within a cenobitic monastery for some time before being allowed to take up solitary life – like, for example, Sabas in Judaea, as described in a Greek Life by Cyril of Scythopolis,23 which Felix could not have known. Guthlac’s life, however, is very different from those of other Anglo-Saxon saints, in his single-minded devotion to the ascetic and anchoretic. There seems to me little doubt that Guthlac himself was affected by the desire to live the kind of life undertaken by Antony in the third century, and which he had read about at Repton. After all, if he had merely wanted to live retired and out of mind, he could have been far more comfortable and indeed more active than in his cell on Crowland. Even Cuthbert, who perhaps comes closest to him in his retreat to Farne Island whenever he could and when he was close to death, had a far more varied and responsible career than Guthlac. Both of them were in touch with princes and princesses, but whereas Cuthbert met them in the course of his affairs, Æthelbald and his retainers came to Crowland to see Guthlac, while it seems that women could only contact

The miracles that Felix ascribes to Guthlac are all borrowed or adapted from earlier saints’ Lives. Benedicta Ward has described the ‘Miracles of the Desert’ as of four kinds, concerned with visions, healing, clairvoyance, and mastery over birds and animals.25 For Healing Miracles, Felix is especially indebted to Bede’s Life of St Cuthbert; the story of Ofa, Æthelbald’s retainer, whose infected foot was cured by being covered by the sheepskin Guthlac usually wore when praying (VG XLV) resembles that of the paralysed boy who was cured by having Cuthbert’s shoes put on his feet (BVC 45). Another of Æthelbald’s adherents, Ecga, went mad and was cured when Guthlac’s girdle was placed on him (VG XLII), as the Abbess Ælflæd and one of her nuns were cured from physical illness by Cuthbert’s girdle (BVC 23). Guthlac’s one recorded post mortem miracle (VG LIII), however, may have been adapted from Adomnan’s Life of Columba:26 in both stories a piece of salt blessed by the saint was used to cure eye-infections. Guthlac’s ‘Nature Miracles’, however, Thacker27 considers closer to those in Jonas’ Life of Columbanus;28 both have

20

24

21

25

Dumville, ‘The ætheling: a study in Anglo-Saxon constitutional history’. James, ‘Bede and the tonsure question’. 22 Thacker, Social and Continental Background to Early Anglo-Saxon Hagiography, pp. 285, 315. 23 Price, Life of Sabas.

Thacker, Social and Continental Background, pp. 283, 305-7, 318. Ward, Introduction to The Lives of the Desert Fathers, pp. 39-46. 26 Anderson and Anderson, Adomnan’s Life of Columba, II.7, pp. 340-1. 27 Thacker, Social and ContinentalBackground, p. 310. 28 Krusch, Ionae Vitae Sanctorum, I.9, 15, 17, pp. 75, 83, 85.

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Felix’s Life of Guthlac: History or Hagiography? stories involving clairvoyance that gloves had been stolen by a corvid which became conscious of its guilt. Both saints were on familiar terms with, and gave food to, birds and fishes – as indeed would be a common tendency among any humans living away from their own kind. Only the story of the tameness of some swallows, vouched for by Wilfrid, appears unprecedented and could be genuine, especially since there appears to be some confusion in the account of the nesting behaviour of hirundines (VG XXXIX).

became associated with the Mercian royal house: Penda’s son Merewalh was said to have been buried there about 685.35 Æthelbald was also buried there in 757 (ASC s.a. 755), perhaps because of its connection with Guthlac, and some later kings followed his example. A carved stone, almost certainly part of a memorial cross for Æthelbald, was found there, with, on one of the narrow sides, a nightmarish representation of the mouth of Hell, rather reminiscent of Guthlac’s vision.36

For other ‘Miracles of Clairvoyance’ Felix seems to have turned to the Life of Benedict in the Dialogues of Gregory the Great (II.xii.1-2; xviii; xx29). Both saints knew when monastic servants had stopped off for refreshments when they should not have – in Italy, at the house of a ‘pious woman’, in England, at a widow’s house (no doubt an alehouse) – and when visitors had hidden flasks for their own consumption, when they should have brought the drink to the saint. It is also possible that Gregory’s story of Benedict’s awareness of a monk’s resentment when obliged to hold a lamp while Benedict ate (II.xii.1-2) has affected Felix’s story of Beccel. Whether Beccel’s was a genuine attempt at political assassination, as Henderson has argued,30 or not, is in hagiographic terms somewhat immaterial. Ward has pointed out that these miracles are intended to convey ‘a picture of insight and foresight carried by grace to a remarkable degree’. 31

The main fabric of the present crypt of the church at Repton has been recognised as a royal burial chamber (and perhaps also a baptistery), dating from the first half of the eighth century. Excavations by Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle in the 1970s and 80s have found evidence of two earlier masonry buildings on the site, both built of local red-brown Bunter stone with yellowish clay instead of mortar. One (in the vicarage garden) was a two-celled mausoleum aligned EW; the other, more or less in line with it, was destroyed probably in the early eighth century and its stones used in the construction of a new church, otherwise built of whiter stone. The earlier building, probably itself a church, had had white plaster on its inner walls and glass in its windows.37 Other seventh-century minster buildings ‘seem to have re-used a large timber hall’.38 For his version of the ‘desert’ Guthlac decided to use the fens, which he may have known about because his parents lived in Mid Anglia, at least at the time of his birth, or perhaps because of Repton’s association with Medeshamstede. Felix’s atmospheric and often-quoted description of ‘a most dismal fen of immense size’ stretching from Cambridge as far north as the sea makes it sound very uninviting as a place to live – and no doubt it was, at this time. There had been a considerable population in the fens in Roman times, but by the early Anglo-Saxon period there was a dearth of habitation, perhaps because of the deterioration of the climate and of the Roman drainage system. There may even have been a period of abandonment between the Romans and the earliest Anglians, but settlement began to occur on the gravel ‘islands’ and peninsulas; and no doubt the fens were exploited by fishers and fowlers, as they were until the next period of drainage, by Vermuyden and his ilk. But certainly they were not tilled by agriculturalists (any more than the Middle Eastern deserts were, though they were inhabited by Bedouin), so the fens would qualify as ‘desert places’.

For hagiographers it was quite legitimate to adapt miracles from other Lives to enhance one’s own saint; it was the impression of ‘Christ-likeness’ which they wished to convey which was important, not literal truth, and many of their readers must have recognised this, and taken pleasure in how well the hagiographer made the miracle fit the saint. Often the social details in the miracle stories may be real and specific, though the wonder-working is borrowed. Felix names only one monastery that Guthlac was connected with: Repton in Derbyshire, where Guthlac went for his introduction to monastic life. It must have been there that he read of ‘the solitary life of monks of former days’ (certainly including Evagrius’ Latin version of the Life of Antony,32 and perhaps Jerome’s Life of Paul the First Hermit,33 which seem to have been freely available in the early monastic foundations), which influenced him towards the ascetic hermit’s life. The implication is that there was a double monastery at Repton already before the year 700, which may have been founded as part of missionary work between 675 and 692 by a princeps Friduricus on land granted to Hædda, abbot of Breedon-on-the-Hill, who had been a priest of Medeshamstede (later called Peterborough).34 Repton

Guthlac, Felix said, ‘made his way to the fens by the most direct route’; Colgrave assumed it was via Cambridge;39 but no-one could say that this was the most direct route from Repton. It seems to me that the most obvious place for him to have aimed for was Medeshamstede, which surely must have been known at Repton, even if it were not its motherhouse. Crowland is only about seven miles north of

29 De Vogűé, Grégoire Le Grand, Dialogues II, xii.1-2, xviii, xx, pp. 1747, 194-5, 196-7 respectively. 30 Henderson, Vision and Image in Early Christian England, p. 216. 31 Ward, Introduction to The Lives of the Desert Fathers, p. 41. 32 Migne, Vita Beati Antonii Abbatis. 33 Migne, Vita Sancti Pauli auctore Sancto Hieronymo. 34 Dornier, ‘The Anglo-Saxon monastery at Breedon-on-the-Hill, Leicestershire’ pp. 155-68; Rumble, ‘“Hrepingas” Reconsidered’ pp. 16972.

35

Finberg, The Early Charters of the West Midlands pp. 217-20. Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle, ‘The Repton Stone’, pp. 233-92. Taylor, ‘St Wystan’s Church, Repton, Derbyshire: A Reconstruction Essay’, pp. 210-11, 220-22, 243. 38 Blair, ‘Anglo-Saxon minsters: a topographical review’, pp. 230-1, 252-5. 39 VG, p. 4. 36 37

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Audrey L. Meaney If Guthlac’s base was at Medeshamstede, however, why does Felix not say so? Perhaps he wished to imply that Guthlac’s only attachment was to Repton, even though it was so far away from Crowland. Medeshamstede, however, was in the borderlands, neither properly Mercian, nor East Anglian, but part of Mid Anglian territory. Æthelbald, who was still ruling when Felix was writing, adorned Guthlac’s tomb at Crowland, and was later buried at Repton, so perhaps Felix wanted to emphasize these two places, and not one to which Æthelbald gave no favours, and which may even have been considered too powerful. This is all speculation, however, an attempt to explain the inexplicable.

Peterborough, and is much more likely to have been known about there than at Cambridge, some distance to the south. When he reached the fens, Felix tells us, Guthlac made enquiries from those who lived nearby about a place where he could live in solitude, and ‘a certain man among those standing by’, called Tatwine, told him about, and afterwards took him by ‘fisherman’s skiff’ to Crowland. Crowland was not in fact an island, because it was joined to the fen margins at Peakirk, about four miles to the west, by a gravel ridge. On the east, however, the peninsula is higher and wider, and would have been more easily reached by boat via the River Welland than by land, so that it came to be regarded as an island. The landscape has been so altered in modern times by man-made channels, drainage, agriculture and urban development that it is all but unrecognisable.

When Guthlac finally took up residence on Crowland, on 25th August, he found a mound built of clods of earth which greedy comers to the waste had dug open, in the hope of finding treasure there. In the side of this there seemed to be a sort of cistern, and in this Guthlac . . . began to dwell, after building a hut over it (VG XXVIII). These sentences have created many problems for modern scholars. At first sight, it might seem that this was a Neolithic chambered long barrow, but there is no stone in the fens, and if the barrow had had a timber chamber (as at Haddenham in Cambridgeshire),44 it seems unlikely that Anglo-Saxon grave robbers (as opposed to modern archaeologists) would have wanted to or have been able to dig it out to resemble a cistern. Colgrave conjectured that it might have been a Roman barrow,45 examples of which are known in eastern England (though, so far as I know, none in the fens). Some of these contained cists ‘built of tiles, mortar, stone, or iron-bolted wooden planks’, but it is difficult to know if any of them would have been solid enough to have been considered a ‘cistern’ or big enough to have had a hut built over it.46

Though there is some disjunction in the following chapters, it seems that Guthlac must have arrived there at the beginning of summer, and after a few day’s exploration, went back to spend time with his companions, whom he had left without any farewells. Colgrave assumes that he went back to Repton, but this seems to me neither clear nor sensible. If we assume, instead, that Tatwine took him back to Medeshamstede, where he had maybe left some brothers from Repton when he went on his exploration, it makes much more sense. Though within ninety days a trip back to Repton would have been feasible, it would surely have been more important to arrange for supplies and local support. Guthlac could hardly have obtained grain or bread for his daily meal from Repton. In the later description of his life on Crowland, it becomes clear that Guthlac was frequently visited by brothers coming in small boats who sounded a signal when they reached the landing-stage. Surely they must have been coming from a neighbouring foundation; and I submit that Medeshamstede was the most appropriate place to have given the necessary support.

Along the axis of the Crowland gravel peninsula, however, round barrows of the Bronze Age are known, which have yielded ‘rude pottery, ...cinerary urns (including Roman ware), flint spearheads’ and the like – hardly enough, one would have thought, to tempt treasure-seekers. In fact, unless a mound had been used as a convenient repository for a coin hoard,47 it is only the richer barrows of the later sixth and seventh centuries, within about a hundred years of Guthlac’s arrival in Crowland, which would have yielded enough in the way of precious metals to make the efforts of grave-robbers worthwhile. But whether there ever was one of these AngloSaxon barrows on the ‘island’, or whether the mound-robbers would have been able to make a distinction between one kind of round burial mound and another, seems to me doubtful. At Eye, however, about five miles to the south of Crowland, a secondary burial with beads dated to the sixth century was found in an early Bronze Age barrow,48 so that a later, richer

There may have been at least one other anchorite about four and a half miles to the south-east of Crowland, at Thorney (which was earlier known as Ancarig, ‘the anchorite’s island’40) but the abbey there was founded much later. There may also have been a double monastery at Castor, about ten and a half miles to the south-south-west, but the evidence is ambiguous.41 Medeshamstede, however, which must have been founded in the mid seventh century (well before its founder Seaxwulf became bishop of the Mercians about 675), and whose influence seems to have been widespread before the century was over,42 is much the most probable as Guthlac’s base. For what it is worth, the boundaries of the spurious foundation charter of Medeshamstede include the territories later separately assigned to the abbeys of Crowland and Thorney.43

44 Hodder and Shand, ‘The Haddenham Long Barrow: an Interim Statement’. 45 VG, p. 1. 46 Dunning and Jessup, ‘Roman Barrows’; Jessup, ‘Barrows and Walled Cemeteries in Roman Britain’, pp. 1, 4, 6, 7. 47 Grinsell, ‘Barrow Treasure, in Fact, Tradition and Legislation’, pp. 1-38. 48 Hall, The Fenland Project, Number 2: Fenland Landscapes and Settlement between Peterborough and March, p. 6.

40

Reaney, Place-names of Cambridgeshire and the Isle of Ely, p. 280. 41 Dallas, ‘The Nunnery of St Kyneburgha at Castor’, pp. 16-17; Mackreth, ‘Castor’, pp. 22-5; Lucas, From Roman Villa to Saxo-Norman Village, An Archaeological Evaluation at the Cedars, Castor’. 42 Stenton, ‘Medeshamstede and its Colonies’, pp. 313-26. 43 Hallam, Settlement and Society: A Study of the Early Agrarian History of South Lincolnshire, p. 165; also S 68, p. 88.

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Felix’s Life of Guthlac: History or Hagiography? appropriate place for a hermitage. An anchorite needed the solitude of the desert; but in order to prove his dependence on God, he had to show he was strong enough to expel evil spirits, who were more likely to haunt pagan burials.

primary barrow burial at Crowland is not entirely out of the question. It is difficult to know what a ‘kind of cistern’ means in this context. Thacker has pointed out that in Jerome’s Life of Paul the First Hermit, another hermit is said to live in ‘an old cistern’ [in cisterna veteri]; and, according to Aldhelm (whose works De Virginitate were well-known to Felix49) Athanasius, author of the Greek Life of St Antony, spent six years hiding in ‘the hollow of a cistern’.50 Perhaps, then, Felix was using the term traditionally but not precisely, and Guthlac’s cistern may have been no more than a robber pit dug into the gravel, which provided him with a conveniently scooped-out base for a ‘Sunken Featured Building’ of typically Anglo-Saxon type. Later details in one of Guthlac’s visions (VG XXXI), where devils were envisaged as entering his cell ‘through floorholes and gaps; neither the hinges of the doors nor the openings in the wattle-work denied them entry’ might indicate that Guthlac’s cell was very similar to the houses lovingly reconstructed, with plank floors over a hollow but with log walls instead of wattle and daub) not far away at West Stow in Suffolk.51

Like nearly all ascetic hermits, Guthlac saw visions of evil spirits who tried to frighten him away from his chosen habitation. Though his visions, as described by Felix, owe much to earlier hagiographers, they are for us so exaggerated that they appear comic. This is his description of evil spirits in the form of misshapen humans: … they were ferocious in appearance, terrible in shape with great heads, long necks, thin faces, yellow complexions, filthy beards, shaggy ears, wild foreheads, fierce eyes, foul mouths, horses’ teeth, throats vomiting flames, twisted jaws, thick lips, strident voices, singed hair, fat cheeks, pigeon breasts, scabby thighs, knotty knees, crooked legs, swollen ankles, splay feet, spreading mouths [and] raucous cries. (VG XXXI) Some readers have believed that this represents the saint’s biased view of the local inhabitants, but though some of them around the year 700 may have been ‘outlaws, bandits and half savage fishers and fowlers’, and modern folklore attributes webbed feet to the fenman,53 Felix’s excessively exaggerated description is clearly of appropriately frightening devils, who (after dragging the saint through the muddy and thorny fens and beating him) sprouted wings in order to carry him off to view the mouth of hell. It seems to me most probable that, whatever Felix’s devils may owe to hagiographic tradition, they have been approximated to that denizen of marsh-lands, the þyrs of Old English poetry; that is, of Beowulf (lines 1034)54 and of the Cotton Gnomic Poem (Maxims II, lines 423),55 where a monster like Grendel is said to live in the fen as a wolf lives in a grove. Neither poet gives a description of the þyrs, and for that reason, perhaps they are far more frightening than Felix’s monsters.

There have been attempts to discover the site of this cell, and there is still a metal sign in front of the south aisle of the abbey church, marking where later tradition placed it and where the rector thought he had found it in 1908; this is not now accepted, though it is usually agreed that the cell must have been somewhere in the vicinity of the present church. Another possibility, however, is a site about five hundred yards to the north-east of the church, on a site known as Anchor Hill (or Anchor Church Hill), where a later medieval building (sometimes called a ‘chapel’) apparently overlay a Bronze Age barrow, and was surrounded by an enclosure ditch, as is shown on air photographs.52 This is the place where, in the year 1999, a stone was placed to mark the thirteen-hundred-year anniversary of the foundation. It was shown on television, where it was stated that this was the site of Guthlac’s cell; but the inscription on the stone is much more circumspect. Guthlac’s establishment had several cells, so in the unlikely event of the remains of an eighth- to ninthcentury building being found at Crowland (be it a Sunken Featured Building or a ‘hall’) it would require an extraordinary piece of evidence to identify it as Guthlac’s original hut.

Later, Guthlac had another vision where evil spirits again attacked him, this time in the shape of frightening animals such as a lion, a bull, a bear and a snake, all making threatening noises; he had no problem in dispelling them with the sign of the cross and a command to depart. Here Felix seems to be entirely dependent upon earlier hagiographers and his own over-vivid imagination, buoyed up, perhaps, by the desire to make the tribulations and powers of his saint appear greater than those of any rival.

The early Anglo-Saxons avoided living on or near prehistoric burial mounds, though they dug graves into them for their own dead. A barrow was an appropriate place for a hermit saint to take up residence, however; when Antony first moved from his village he withdrew to some tombs. In hagiographic terms, Guthlac’s choice of an ancient site on which to build his hut is entirely conventional. However, if in real life Guthlac were indeed attempting to emulate Antony and other desert fathers, he would have regarded a burial mound as an

Several modern scholars have suggested explanations for the visions which Guthlac experienced; Hallam suggested that his distress ‘resembles closely the symptoms of malaria or fen ague’,56 sufferers from which certainly alternate between freezing cold and great heat, as I can personally testify. However, Antony, who saw visions first, was not in a malarial area, and M.L. Cameron has examined the accounts of the visions of both Guthlac and Antony, and suggested that

49

VG, pp. 17-18. Ehwald, ‘Aldhelmus De Virginitate (Prosa) XXXII, in Aldhelmi Opera, p. 274; trs. Lapidge and Herren, Aldhelm, The Prose Works, p. 94. 51 West, West Stow: The Anglo-Saxon Village I, cover picture. 52 Hayes and Lane, The Fenland Project Number 5: Lincolnshire Survey, the South-West Fens, p. 169 and pl. IX. 50

53 54 55 56

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Hallam, The New Lands of Elloe, p. 6. Klaeber, Beowulf and the Fight at Finnsburg, p. 7. Dobbie, The Anglo-Saxon Minor Poems, pp. 55-7. Hallam, The New Lands of Elloe, p. 5.

Audrey L. Meaney Another of his visions might lend some support to this idea, and that is the one that Felix dates to the reign of Cœnred, king of Mercia between 704 and 709, when British raids were taking place. Guthlac was as usual watching and praying at about dawn, when he was suddenly: … overcome by a dream-filled sleep, and it seemed to him that he heard the shouts of a tumultuous crowd. Then … he was aroused from his light sleep and went out of the cell; standing, with ears alert, he recognised the words the crowds were saying, and realised that British hosts were approaching his dwelling; for in years gone by he had been in exile among them ... Straightway they strove to approach his dwelling through the marshes, and at almost the same moment he saw all his buildings burning: indeed, they caught him, too, and began to lift him into the air on the sharp points of their spears. Then at length the man of God, perceiving the thousandfold forms of the insidious foe … sang ‘Let God arise etc’. When they had heard this ... all the hosts of demons vanished like smoke. (VG XXXIV)

they were ‘convulsive and hallucinatory episodes induced by the eating of bread made from grain infected with ...ergot’. 57 He compared details of the saints’ visions to the symptoms of poisoning by LSD ‘a derivative of the lysergic acid that is the main hallucinogenic component of ergot’, and found great similarities. He regarded it as significant that the visions, for both saints, followed the eating of their one daily meal of barley bread and water; to survive on these alone would require eating up to two pounds of bread a day. The fact that neither saint drank the usual beer or ale would have meant that they were both deficient in Vitamin A, and this would have exacerbated the effect of the ergot. However, there are problems in accepting Cameron’s persuasive arguments wholeheartedly. Why were the saints’ companions not affected? Perhaps because they were not leading such ascetic lives, Cameron suggests. But visions appear to be a necessary concomitant of asceticism everywhere. Malnutrition and lack of sleep, with resulting susceptibility to illness and fevers, may well be enough to produce the hallucinatory visions that the culture expects: this is certainly true of Buddhism, for example.58 Nor is it only religious ascetics who can experience similar visions; I vividly remember, at the age of five, being scared of a frieze of gnome-like men running around the picture-rail in my bedroom and all pointing and shouting at me. I was suffering from the measles at the time.

There has been much discussion over this passage, which is often mentioned as evidence that there were still Britons in the fens in Guthlac’s time. However, this is extremely unlikely. Place-names of British origin in this area are negligible, and the population in early Anglo-Saxon times, to judge from archaeology, apparently very small. As mentioned above, there was probably a short period of abandonment of the fens between the late Romans and the early Mid-Anglians.60 Moreover, this is the only vision to be so precisely dated, and Felix therefore indicates that it originated from the fact that Britons were raiding in Mercia at the time, as indeed was very probable in the half-century before the construction of Offa’s Dyke. Yet, even if formidable, it is unlikely that any British raid could have reached all the way across Mercia to the fens. There does not seem to be a similar vision in any other saint’s Life that I have read, and so perhaps we are justified in assuming that it may have been a genuine event in Guthlac’s life.

Recently I have been reading about William Minor, the homicidal lunatic who was one of James Murray’s most useful volunteers working on the Oxford English Dictionary, and I was struck by some aspects of his delusions. He claimed that little boys, fiends, or pygmies came into his room through the ceiling, door and windows and beat and tortured him, leaving him with savage pain. He was trundled across the countryside in a wagon, and (after planes were invented) put into a flying machine and taken to brothels in Constantinople. He also claimed that his eyes were regularly pecked out by birds. He was diagnosed as suffering from ‘Dementia praecox of paranoid form’, that is, from schizophrenia. The writer conjectured that he might also have been affected by Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (first identified as such in the Gulf War, but evidently the same as the ‘shell shock’ of the First World War). The symptoms of this disorder normally diminish after a while, but Minor seems to have suffered from them to the end of his life.59 I enquired of a psychiatrist whether Guthlac could have been suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and she said that it could not have produced such hallucinations unaided. Nevertheless, it seems quite possible that in the early years at Crowland, at least, Guthlac might have still been affected by the horrors of the warfare that he had experienced as a young man and which had caused his conversion; malnutrition and lack of sleep might have combined to cause the hallucinations.

If so, it may have happened like this. The news of the British raids may have weighed on Guthlac’s mind, and when he was woken from sleep by a loud noise (thunder? bird calls?) he may have been momentarily carried back to his youth, so that he imagined British words in the noise. There would probably have been an appreciable interval until he came to himself and realised the improbability that he was really being tossed on the spear points of the Britons, and dispelled the vision by the usual means of calling on God. In this instance, the input of the hagiographer might have been minimal, apart from the addition of the illusory fire (found in many saints’ Lives). As a parallel, I offer another of my own memories. Once, as an adult, I awoke in the middle of the night terrified, because a noise made me think a dog-fight between British and German planes was taking place over my

57

60 Darby, ‘The Fenland Frontier in Anglo-Saxon England’, pp. 188-90; Schramm, ‘Fenland Place-Names’, pp. 430-2; Darby, The Medieval Fenland, pp. 6-10; Simmons, ‘Saxon Settlement of the Lincolnshire Fens’, pp. 28-30; Lane and Hayes, ‘Moving boundaries in the fens of south Lincolnshire’, pp. 68-9.

Cameron, ‘The visions of Saints Anthony and Guthlac’. Mackenzie, Cave in the Snow: A Western Woman’s Quest for Enlightenment, pp. 2, 111-24. 59 Winchester, The Surgeon of Crowthorne: A Tale of Murder, Madness and the Love of Words, pp. 110-1, 140-1, 158, 180-5. 58

81

Felix’s Life of Guthlac: History or Hagiography? head, as had happened quite often when I was a child living in suburban Essex during the Blitz. For me, there was certainly an appreciable interval before I came to myself and realised that the war was long over, and that the noise had merely been rumbling thunder. The point of this brief epitome of a much longer paper61 is to attempt to distinguish between the saint and the hagiographer; how much of the Life written by Felix would have been recognisable to the saint as his own life, if he had had the chance to read it? One would hope that the bare bones of events – parentage, life as the leader of a warrior gang, conversion, two years of monastic life at Repton, followed by fifteen at Crowland living as an ascetic hermit, and his ordination by Bishop Headda – are to be trusted, though there is no good early supporting evidence for Guthlac’s existence. The miracles Felix ascribes to Guthlac are highly suspect, however, since they all appear to be adaptations from earlier hagiography, as could the portent at his birth and the account of his death. These are all included for a purpose: to show how worthy Guthlac was to be considered a saint; they have their part to play in the genre, but are worthless as history. Other incidents in Felix’s Life are more problematic and therefore more interesting to us. Did Guthlac get support from Medeshamstede? Did he really take up residence on a burial mound, and if so, where and what kind was it? Did he really have visions as his predecessors had done, and if so, what caused them? In short, how much of Guthlac’s life is reflected in Felix’s Life, and how much is owed to his (from our point of view) far too plagiaristically scholarly and imaginative hagiographer?

61

Meaney, ‘Felix’s Life of St Guthlac: Hagiography and/or Truth’.

82

Audrey L. Meaney Dumville, D., ‘The Anglian collection of royal genealogies and regnal lists’, Anglo-Saxon England 5 (1976), pp. 23-50.

Abbreviations ASC Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, eds J. Earle and C. Plummer, 2 vols (Oxford, 1892-9). BVC Bede’s Prose Life of Cuthbert, ed. B. Colgrave, in Two Lives of St Cuthbert (Cambridge, 1940).

Dumville, D., ‘The ætheling: a study in Anglo-Saxon constitutional history’, Anglo-Saxon England 8 (1979), pp. 1-33.

HE Bede’s Ecclestiastical History of the English People, eds B. Colgrave and R.A.B. Mynors (Oxford, 1969).

Dunning, G.C. and R.F. Jessup, ‘Roman Barrows’, Antiquity 10 (1936), pp. 37-53.

S P. H. Sawyer, Anglo-Saxon Charters: an Annotated List and Bibliography, Royal Historical Society Guides and Handbooks 8 (London, 1968).

Ehwald, R., Aldhelmus De Virginitate (Prosa) XXXII, in Aldhelmi Opera, ed. R Ehwald, Monumenta Germaniae Historica Auct. Antiquis. XV (Berlin, 1919), pp. 226-323.

VG Felix’s Life of Guthlac, ed. And trs. B. Colgrave (Cambridge, 1956)

Emerton, E., trs., The Letters of Saint Boniface (New York, 1940). Finberg, H.P.R., The Early Charters of the West Midlands (Leicester, 1972).

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Felix’s Life of Guthlac: History or Hagiography? Stenton, F. M., ‘Medeshamstede and its Colonies’, Historical Essays in Honour of James Tait (Manchester, 1933), pp. 313-26, reprinted in Preparatory to AngloSaxon England: Being the Collected Papers of Frank Merry Stenton, ed. D. M. Stenton (Oxford, 1970), pp. 179-92.

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84

Guthlac’s Vita, Mercia and East Anglia in the first half of the Eighth Century N. J. Higham The Life of St Guthlac is an early eighth-century example, in Latin, of the vita genre, written by an otherwise unknown cleric, Felix.1 The Life consists of a prologue or preface, a list of contents and fifty three chapters, all written in a conventional hagiographical style appropriate to the period, with the author expressing an obligatory level of self-doubt in the prologue and plagiarising heavily from ‘lives’ along the way.2 This text offers a unique testimony, written in East Anglia, but pertaining to East Anglian and Mercian religious and dynastic politics in the early eighth century.3

some reason to suspect that he was writing quite early in Æthelbald’s reign (see below). Felix’s understanding of the dynastic positioning of his subject provides an appropriate starting point for this study. Guthlac was located by Felix (VG, I) within the Mercian royal kindred, the son of the wealthy and prestigiously descended Penwalh and Tette. He was brought up in Middle Anglia, so effectively within a Mercian province (since c.650) and a Mercian diocese, along with his sister, Pega, who was also destined to become an anchorite. He was closely connected by Felix with Æthelbald, eventually king of the Mercians (716-57), although he did not live to see his close friend obtain the kingship, dying c.714x716 at about forty-one years of age, still at the fenland hermitage at Crowland which he had founded in the late 690s.

The focus in this essay will not be on Felix’s style, nor the reputed sanctity of his hero (who is probably correctly identified by Cubitt as a clone of Cuthbert). Instead, I will concentrate on the Life as evidence for the political perceptions of the East Anglian royal family concerning Æthelbald of Mercia. The Life is well suited to this purpose: Felix was certainly well acquainted with the East Anglian court and its king, Ælfwald (c. 713-49), who was his patron and who chose him for this particular task. Felix was comparatively widely-read, so was presumably considered well suited to the task. As Colgrave noted, he used the writings of Vergil, Aldhelm, Athanasius (in the Latin translation), Bede on Cuthbert and the Life of St. Fursa, as well as the Bible, so presumably was (or had been) a member of a well-endowed school with a creditable library and scriptorium. Such a school was reputed by Bede4 to have been established by his namesake, the Burgundian Bishop Felix, under royal patronage, about a century earlier. Whether or not he was connected with that school or some other, Felix was a member of the clerical intelligentsia of East Anglia, gathered around the king and benefiting from his patronage, and perhaps to be identified as a royal clerk as Cubitt has suggested.5 If he was an immigrant from the continent, rather than East Anglian by birth, his dependence upon royal patronage is likely to have been the greater. While the evidence is insufficient to establish this with any certainty, there are indications in, for example, his treatment of the Guthlacingas6 and his reference to baptism ‘within Britain’,7 that his perceptions were in some sense external. In this respect he may stand comparison with the Welshman Asser, writing for, and in some sense from within, King Alfred’s court.

Given Guthlac’s birth and dynastic positioning, a pertinent question to be addressed must be why an East Anglian king should have commissioned a life of a recent royal Mercian saint? If we remind ourselves of the patrons interested in other English saints’ lives, the Anonymous and Bede both wrote of Cuthbert ostensibly for the Lindisfarne community.9 Stephen similarly wrote from within Wilfrid’s parochia and for his successors.10 The Life of Gregory is odd in this respect, being written at Whitby,11 but the local context does at least become transparent via lengthy excursions into the life and death of King Edwin of the Deirans, whose daughter and granddaughter presided over the abbey. Additionally Gregory had, unlike Guthlac, a special place in the conversion story of the English. Guthlac’s Life stands out therefore. Its authorship had no known encouragement from his cell at Crowland (although his successor, Cissa, provided information), nor from Repton (where Guthlac was tonsured) nor from the episcopacy of Headda (who ordained him), nor from his Mercian relatives (who enriched his cult site). Rather, it was dedicated to ‘my lord king Ælfwald, beloved to me above any others of royal rank, who properly presides over the governance of the East Angles’. Felix repeatedly stressed that it was written at the king’s command and was presented to him in public, in the company of his learned men. Felix’s own justification (‘it may serve as a sign to call them back to the remembrance of so great a man’) is surely insufficient to justify this choice of subject for such a symbolic act. Ælfwald sprang from a dynasty with a glorious past and with a highly accessible conversion story of its own, centred on the earlier Felix, Fursa, martyrs such as King Anna and several royal abbesses. The East Angles were not so deficient in holy men that they had to look towards the Mercian royal dynasty for suitable subjects for hagiography. We must conclude that the choice of Guthlac was Ælfwald’s, and we can only search for some explanation in the Life itself.12

It is unfortunate for this present essay that the chronological context of Felix’s text cannot be established more precisely than the period spanning the 720s (following Bede’s compositions on Cuthbert) to the 740s.8 However, there is 1

Felix, Vita Guthlaci, hereafter VG; see Bibliography. The text of the Vita is referred to by chapter number and Colgrave’s editorial text by page number. 2 Thacker, ‘The Social and Continental Background to Early Anglo-Saxon Hagiography’, pp. 279-328. 3 Cubitt, ‘Memory and Narrative in the Cult of Saints’, pp. 50-61. 4 Bede, HE III.18. 5 Cubitt, ‘Memory and Narrative’, p. 56. 6 VG, X. 7 VG, XLVIII. 8 VG, pp. 15-19.

9

Colgrave, Two Lives of St. Cuthbert. Colgrave, Life of Bishop Wilfrid by Eddius Stephanus. 11 Colgrave, The Earliest Life of Gregory the Great, by an Anonymous Monk of Whitby. 12 But see Cubitt, ‘Memory and Narrative’, pp. 57-61. 10

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Guthlac’s Vita, Mercia and East Anglia in the first half of the Eighth Century Careful attention to the text will help us here. There are significant differences between the treatment of various royals. The first mentioned is of course Ælfwald, whose treatment is by far the most reverential and who occurs in the first few lines, so establishing a yardstick against which all others must be measured. There follows mention of ‘the illustrious Æthelred, king of the English’ in chapter I, in reference to the comparatively distant past (he resigned in 704) and as a means of fixing the chronological scene; then Penwalh, Guthlac’s father (whose descent was via ‘the most noble names of illustrious kings of old back to Icel’), of the Mercian lineage, although Penwalh was not himself a king. There is no further mention of a royal until chapter XXXIV, when Coenred’s reign (704-9) is contextualised by reference to damaging British raids against the English nation. By contrast, Guthlac was a successful warrior and booty-taker in his youth,13 before he switched to the parallel career of battling demons. He is then represented as stoutly overcoming devils masquerading as Britons, and the Mercian king of the day comes very poorly out of a comparison that is powerfully drawn within the same chapter.

This is hardly the image of a great warrior king, a mover and shaker, or of an effective and generous patron and protector.14 It can be argued that this is a natural consequence of Æthelbald’s difficulties prior to 716, but Felix was necessarily conscious of the current status of the Mercian king, whom Bede described in 731 as wielding imperium across all southern Britain.15 It is difficult to justify the view, expressed by Cubitt,16 that he wrote in order to legitimise the rule of Æthelbald, since he patently fails to exploit each and every opportunity so to do.

Æthelbald ‘of famous Mercian stock’ (note the dissimilarity with Penwalh and the lack of explicit royalty herein) makes his first appearance in chapter XL. The story here, however, focuses on Guthlac’s recovery of Wilfrid’s gloves from the jackdaws, and the Mercian king of the day (when Felix wrote) is no more than a shadowy onlooker. Chapters XLI and XLII are paired by their subject matter – Guthlac’s Godgiven power to cure madness – but the first and far longer has an East Anglian subject, Hwaetred, while Æthelbald’s comes Ecga is treated quite perfunctorily in the second, again without any benefit to the reputation of Æthelbald. Another comes of Æthelbald, Oba, arrives in XLV, suffering from an unheroic case of septicaemia, the result of treading on a thorn in the fields. Æthelbald arrives once more in XLIX, but is represented as a powerless fugitive, ‘driven hither and thither by King Ceolred [709-716], tossed about among divers peoples’. It was Guthlac who promised that he would acquire great power by the gift of God. Chapter LI focuses on Guthlac’s incorrupt body and its final resting place above ground, and it is with the cult centre-stage that reference is made to Æthelbald’s later enrichment and rebuilding of the shrine. His last appearance, in LII, is again as an exile in distant parts, arriving in despair only to receive a prophecy from Guthlac post mortem that he would soon gain the kingdom.

The East Anglian court arguably welcomed that separation and had already sought to work it to their own advantage. Felix told in Chapter XLVIII of messengers dispatched to Guthlac by Abbess Ecgburh, daughter of King Aldwulf so sister of Ælfwald. Ecgburh sent Guthlac valuable gifts – a lead coffin and linen shroud – and asked him who was to inherit the cult site itself. Given the chronology, the question was posed either late in Aldwulf’s reign or at the very start of Ælfwald’s. At whichever time, it certainly betrays an East Anglian concern regarding Crowland’s future at a date when Ceolred still ruled in Mercia. Guthlac’s answer named Cissa, who was still pagan but who later received baptism ‘in Brittannia’, and whose information Felix later acknowledged. However, Ecgburh’s enquiries suggest that the East Anglian establishment had ambitions regarding the future of this fenland cult site. Indeed, dynastic ambitions may provide one explanation for the commissioning of Felix’s Life by the king.

By contrast, Felix’s treatment of Ælfwald was far more reverential. It was Ælfwald, not Æthelbald, who was presented as ruling by right. Ælfwald became king while Æthelbald was still a fugitive, and was the son of a king, and a powerful, well-connected and long-lived one at that – Aldwulf (c.673-713).17 Additionally, he had necessarily been born while his father was king. Æthelbald could claim no such dynastic legitimacy, and Felix did nothing to resolve this difficulty. Rather, Mercian royal authority was invested in this text in the person and cult of Guthlac.

There are certainly good reasons to pursue this possibility. Early in the eighth century it was far less clear than it was later to become that the Mercian kings had begun a century of dominance in Southumbria. Until 685 the Northumbrian challenge for hegemony had been very much alive, and Ecgfrith had only lost direct control of Lindsey – and its fen country – in the very late 670s. East Anglian kings had earlier sought to bind fenland communities to themselves, for example by the marriage between Anna’s daughter St Æthelthryth and the princeps of the South Gyrwe, Tondberht, and her later establishment at Ely as abbess, where she was succeeded by her long-lived sister Seaxburh.18 Æthelthryth’s second marriage, to Ecgfrith, suggests a dynastic alliance against the Mercians with some potential to control the fen country.19 Aldwulf himself had a Northumbrian mother. The East Saxon Swithhelm’s baptism

In these stories the credit and kudos accrue to Guthlac and his cult. Æthelbald’s current position as king is recognised, but Felix only offers him comparatively faint praise: ‘even to the present day his happiness as king over his kingdom has grown in succeeding years from day to day’. It is Guthlac, not Æthelbald, who is represented as protecting Æthelbald’s followers and Æthelbald himself. Æthelbald’s stature is therefore systematically minimised by Felix: an image is planted and successively reinforced of the king as a powerless exile, incapable of protecting his followers or rewarding those who support him. Ultimately he attained kingship as a gift to a suppliant and only via Guthlac’s intercession. 13

14

Contra, VG, p. 16. HE, V.23. 16 Cubitt, ‘Memory and Narrative’, p. 56. 17 HE, II.15, IV.17, 23. 18 HE, IV.19. 19 Higham, An English Empire: Bede and the Anglo-Saxon Kings, pp. 124-5. 15

VG, XVI-XVIII.

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N. J. Higham within Mercia. Presumably it was located within that conglomeration of minor peoples who feature prominently in the Tribal Hidage, and it may be significant that an eleventhcentury document described it as being in ‘the middle fen of the Gyrwe’, so in an area of known East Anglian interest. Another of these fenland peoples was mentioned by Felix – the ‘provincia Wissa’ – in the context of post mortem miracles.24 The Mercians had ‘tidied up’ many of these peoples during the second half of the seventh century to form the Middle Anglian sub-kingship, within which Guthlac’s own family resided. However, Æthelbald seems to have been able to visit Guthlac freely enough while in exile from Mercia, suggesting that their authority was far from secure in this watery march beyond Middle Anglia. It seems a reasonable assumption that he habitually approached from East Anglian territory and with the connivance and support of the East Anglian court. In this context, the choice of St Bartholomew as Guthlac’s protector may be significant. Bartholomew was one of the more obscure apostles credited with missionary work in the shadowy east25 and it may have been this which recommended him to Guthlac and/or Felix, rather than the mere fact of his setting out on Bartholomew’s feast day.

by the (Northumbrian) Cedd at Rendlesham, with Æthelwold of East Anglia as sponsor, similarly suggests a joint approach by East Anglia and Northumbria to the region.20 Propagation of the cult of St Oswald at Bardney in northern Lindsey by King Æthelred and his Northumbrian wife looks like a considered Mercian response, reinforced by Æthelred’s retirement there in 704. However, the Mercian dynasty was no more united than that of Northumbria, and Æthelred was unwilling to allow his relatives unfettered rein in their religious patronage. He had, for example, earlier prevented one nephew giving sanctuary to St. Wilfrid.21 Guthlac’s actions were perhaps also suspect. He entered the monastery of Repton, a double monastery which was, later at least, particularly connected with Æthelbald, and it was from there that, with two boys for company and after a mere two years of training, he established his hermitage at Crowland. This may reflect the consolidation of Mercian influence in a disputed march, but more probably it represents the efforts of part of the royal lineage to establish their own cult on the periphery of the Mercian kingship, to their own particular advantage. Whichever it was, Guthlac’s initiative brought him to a spot only forty kilometres from Ely, where Seaxburh was still abbess c. 700. However, his new abode was a mere fifteen kilometres from the (now) A1 (near Peterborough and Stamford), which was the principal conduit of power in central eastern England. Despite its watery remoteness, therefore, political influence at Crowland was a live issue in the early eighth century and this presumably increased as the fame of Guthlac spread, attracting visitors of all sorts and from all parts and eventually providing a significant power base from which to launch a challenge for the Mercian succession. That challenge involved the displacement of one branch of the Mercian royal family by another and is likely to have been disputed. The year 716 was arguably a succession crisis in Mercia, and the young East Anglian king may well have thought to profit by the fact.

Another issue is Felix’s treatment of the Britons. It might be thought odd that an eighth-century East Anglian text refers to Britons at all, but we are told that Guthlac’s reputed knowledge of the British language derived from his having been in exile among them, and this is generally now presumed to have been in Wales.26 However, such an interpretation has a self-evident circularity about it. The logic goes as follows: since there were no Britons in central eastern England by 700, ergo any reference to such must be explained by reference to the far west. This is not very convincing. There are few British place-names surviving in this region, but it may be worth noting that the one central to this text – Crowland – does seem to have a British suffix (crug), meaning ‘hill’, ‘barrow’ or ‘mound’. Felix even mentions the presence of a robbed tumulus, against which Guthlac made his home, and the survival of the name element implies a degree of continuity. Felix nowhere states that the Britons who were putatively pillaging the English in Chapter XXXIV were in far off western Mercia, and his metaphor of British-speaking devils is at Crowland itself. If Guthlac had ‘in years gone by been an exile among them [the Britons], so that he could understand their sibilant speech’, this could have been anywhere the language was spoken. Guthlac’s father had a name that seems to contain a British prefix (pen, meaning ‘great’ or ‘high’) attached to the common suffix walh, meaning ‘foreigner’, ‘slave’ or ‘Welshman’. Such British elements were common in the seventh-century Mercian royal family (as Penda, Pybba or Peada).27 What these names mean in terms of ethnicity and language is, of course, unclear, but they should not be ignored.

Felix reflects a sense of competition between Mercian and East Anglian establishments in his treatment of Bishop Headda22 and abbess Ecgburh.23 Headda is depicted as arriving with his household staff unexpectedly, desirous of consecrating Guthlac’s oratory and ordaining him priest. Although there was a bishop of this name at Winchester at this date, this was presumably the Mercian bishop (consecrated 691), who by this act was effectively asserting his own authority in this marcher district and over this enigmatic royal. Conversely, Guthlac’s acceptance of ordination implies some level of recognition of the Mercian establishment, but Felix’s text lends nothing to the status and authority of the bishop. The political marginality of Crowland is palpable in Felix’s text. His assertion that people flocked to visit Guthlac ‘not only from the neighbouring lands of the Mercians but even from remote parts of Britain’ suggests that he did not himself consider Crowland to be irretrievably Mercian, or actually

It may be unfashionable, but it is possible to imagine the British language surviving in parts of Middle Anglia – in the 24

VG, LIII. ASC, E, s.a. 883. 26 VG, XXXIV. 27 Jones, ‘Penda’s footprint? Place-names containing personal names associated with those of early Mercian Kings’.

20

25

HE, III.22. 21 Colgrave, Life of Bishop Wilfrid, ch.XL. 22 VG, XLVI, XLVII. 23 VG, XLVIII.

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Guthlac’s Vita, Mercia and East Anglia in the first half of the Eighth Century for his candidacy. Once successful, he was presumably considered in East Anglia to have been particularly indebted to Ælfwald,31 and this has important implications for our perceptions of relations between the two. A parallel, which both sides would have known, was Rædwald’s relations with Edwin of Deira a century earlier, although Bede, our principal source, was comparatively reticent on this issue for reasons primarily of Rædwald’s apostasy.32 It would not be surprising, however, if Ælfwald saw himself as the political sponsor of Æthelbald, so as in some sense his superior in 716.

Chilterns, for example, as much as the fens – until the late seventh century. Bede’s comments on the survival of a cult at St Albans from the Roman period certainly implies some cultural continuity in the region up to the time when Mercian Christianity colonised the site in the eighth century.28 Felix’s text suggests that pagans were still numerous in the region even after 700,29 implying a context in which cultural change was erratic. Some of the obscure fenland peoples could have retained a British cultural identity to this date, and so have spoken among themselves in Old Welsh. The text is not, however, adequate evidence on its own for the survival of British cultural identity in any particular locality, and to pursue this line of reasoning further is to miss the point, to which I propose to return. What Felix was seeking to do by reference to Britons was to contrast Guthlac’s reputed victory over ‘British’ devils with the failure of Coenred’s protection of the English nation against actual British attacks. He did this in a context that would not have offended the current Mercian establishment, dominated as that was by Æthelbald, Coenred’s erstwhile enemy. Protection of society at this date was seen as a joint responsibility shared between kings and warriors on the one hand and monks and holy men on the other, each operating in their own but interconnecting domains. Guthlac’s success against the devil and his minions – albeit derivative of Bede’s treatment of Cuthbert – is as powerful and repetitive a theme of this work as is the lacklustre performance of Mercia’s kings as warriors. By contrast, Guthlac was himself portrayed as a successful warrior in his youth.

This picture also has a local context, given that Felix’s Life is played out against the backdrop of the fenland. It is widely believed that it was the fens, beyond all else, that enabled East Anglia to survive as a political unit during the late seventh and eighth centuries and to avoid the fate of other of Mercia’s neighbours. Guthlac’s development of a cult site at Crowland was necessarily of significance to the East Angles, bringing with it a need, and an opportunity, to exercise influence there. Felix stresses that Guthlac used his position as a holy man to sustain dynastic opposition to Penda’s grandsons in favour of Æthelbald. This was presumably interpreted in East Anglia as an East Anglian sponsored opposition – hence Abbess Ecgburh’s approach. Following Guthlac’s death, Æthelbald’s rise to power brought with it direct Mercian royal patronage for Crowland, but Felix’s work suggests that East Anglian interest in the site, its cult and its role as a locus was undiminished at the time of writing. Increased East Anglian influence over the cult might offer enhanced status for East Anglian kings, much as the Mercian embrace of St Oswald had brought Æthelred success. It is significant that Guthlac is represented in Felix’s miracle stories as mediating divine protection for East Angles, as well as Mercians. The gifts given by an East Anglian royal abbess, Ecgburh, were presumably also embedded in the cult at the time of composition.

To turn to a related issue, Felix had a clear vision of what the East Anglian kingdom actually comprised. For example, he recognised its boundaries, which stretched to within not much more than one day’s boat journey from Crowland.30 Within those boundaries he stressed that Ælfwald ruled ‘by right’. The text therefore asserts the legitimacy of the dynasty, its ownership of its own core authority and its superior validity (by implication) to Mercian kingship. Felix’s treatment of Æthelbald, as noted above, certainly reinforces this separation, portraying the Mercian ruler as it does predominantly in extremis during his days in exile, when he was dependant on the support and protection of power centres such as the East Anglian court and other distant ‘divers peoples’. No Mercian king since Æthelred comes well out of Felix’s text. There were differences, therefore, between the treatments afforded the East Anglian and Mercian establishments, and Felix’s work was supportive of the agenda of his own patron and the pretensions to greater influence and power of the East Anglian elite.

What, though, of the wider sense of Englishness, and the role of the East Angles within that greater grouping? At this level, it is difficult to distinguish Felix’s East Angles and Mercians, setting aside the physical geography and separate dynastic traditions. The sense of commonality between the various different ‘English’ participants in these stories far outweighs any differences. In this respect, Guthlac’s Life enables us to touch upon another debate, that concerning the formation of an English, or Anglo-Saxon, identity. This debate should be distinguished from that surrounding the political unification of the English in the late ninth and tenth centuries,33 when, of course, there were conscious efforts to reinforce English identity by constructing a particular and highly supportive vision of the past.34 An English identity did, however, long precede the formation of an English state, constructed as it was on a common language, reinforced by a common foundation myth (albeit with local variations) and,

There is a fundamentally important but understated relationship between Ælfwald and Æthelbald implicit within this text, which reflects reality immediately prior to Æthelbald’s accession. Felix’s portrayal of Æthelbald primarily as a powerless refugee, dependant on the East Angles and others for protection and for access to Guthlac’s cult site, suggests that Æthelbald had East Anglian support

31

VG, p. 16. HE, II.12. For example: Wormald, ‘Bede, the Bretwaldas and the Origins of the gens Anglorum’; Wormald, ‘Engla lond: the making of an allegiance’; Foot, ‘The making of Angelcynn: English identity before the Norman Conquest’. 34 Compare with McKitterick, ‘Constructing the Past in the Early Middle Ages: the case of the Royal Frankish Annals’. 32 33

28

HE, I.7. VG, XLVIII. 30 VG, XLI. 29

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N. J. Higham latterly, a common providential history as a chosen race.35 To those factors can be added the spread of a common material culture across Anglo-Saxon England during the course of the seventh century.36 The early English adopted strong rhetorical positions regarding the boundaries of their own ethnicity. A particular feature of this is the categorisation of the Britons as W[e]alh, so foreigners or slaves.37 In the new providential framework of the early eighth century, this converted into a British people who ‘still persist in their errors’ and ‘oppose the English through their inbred hatred, and the whole state of the catholic church by their incorrect Easter and evil customs’, who were in part under English rule.38 Such perceptions among the English categorise their Celtic neighbours as barbarians excluded from divine providence and the prospect of salvation, fit only to be ruled by the elect. Certainly the Anglo-British racial divide that is so powerfully imagined in these works far outstrips any sense of a more localised identity distinguishing one part of the English nation from another.

political ambitions of an eighth-century king of the East Angles. The Life of St Guthlac contains subtle messages about Ælfwald’s perceptions of his own power which, in some respects, conflict with Bede’s positioning of his Mercian neighbour in the 730s. It may well, of course, predate that account by as much as a decade, but that we can only surmise. Given that Guthlac was a Mercian royal saint, Felix’s work also implies a desire on Ælfwald’s part to broadcast those messages to a wider (so presumably Mercian) audience. What the reception was we cannot know, but this attempt to quietly secure Guthlac’s cult in support of East Anglian kingship did not ultimately prove a success.

In Felix’s case, this inter-provincial commonality is unlikely to be accidental. As has been remarked, he envisioned Ælfwald’s kingship as uniquely legitimate. By contrast the Mercian kingship was low on legitimacy and portrayed as if in the gift of God via Guthlac, whose warrior capabilities and royal birth he emphasised and whose cult lay in an area where East Anglian kings had traditionally had some influence. Before his accession, Æthelbald’s very access to the cult site had presumably been in Ælfwald’s gift. Should Ælfwald have aspired to leadership of the English, he could legitimately view Æthelbald as his own erstwhile client now made good. If that perception was not shared by the Mercians, then appropriate propitiation of the saint and a realignment of his putative power offered potential advantages. In that context it suited Felix’s story to portray the East Angles, Middle Angles and Mercians as a single people and participants in a single providential narrative, from which the Britons – those barbarian others whom Guthlac but not Coenred had worsted – were entirely excluded. It is within this grouping that Ælfwald’s kingship was uniquely legitimised in this text. There is a sense of an English race in this, and a sense of racial distinction and exclusion with which his audience would presumably have concurred. However, there is also an immediacy to Felix’s message and a political expediency which should caution us against seeking to generalise too avidly from what was arguably a highly contemporary text, written for a particular court and a particular political context. Bede provides us with a pen sketch of the East Anglian kings’ heroic but often suicidal history of competition with the Mercians.39 If this is a valid reading of Felix’s text, then his portrayal of Guthlac, Ælfwald of the East Angles and Æthelbald of the Mercians offers us another context within which we can explore the

35

Davies, ‘The Peoples of Britain and Ireland 1100-1400: I. Identities’. Geake, The Use of Grave-Goods in Conversion-Period England, c.600c.850, pp. 123-36. 37 Faull, ‘The semantic development of Old-English wealh’; Gelling, Signposts to the Past; Smyth, ‘The Emergence of English Identity, 7001000’. 38 HE, V.22. 39 Stenton, ‘The East Anglian Kings of the Seventh Century’; Campbell, ‘The First Christian Kings’, p. 56; Higham, An English Empire, p. 208. 36

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Guthlac’s Vita, Mercia and East Anglia in the first half of the Eighth Century Smyth, A. P., ‘The Emergence of English Identity, 7001000’, in A. P. Smyth, ed., Medieval Europeans: Studies in Ethnic Identity and National Perspectives in Medieval Europe (Basingstoke, 1998), pp. 24-52.

Abbreviations ASC The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, as printed in English Historical Documents I c.500-1042, ed. D. Whitelock (Oxford, 1955), pp. 135-235.

VG Felix’s Life of St Guthlac, ed. B. Colgrave (Cambridge, 1956).

Stenton, F.M., ‘The East Anglian Kings of the Seventh Century’ in The Anglo-Saxons: Studies in some aspects of their History and Culture, presented to Bruce Dickins, ed. P. Clemoes (London 1959), reprinted in D. M. Stenton, ed., Preparatory to Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1970), pp. 394-402.

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Offa’s Dyke Margaret Worthington ‘There was in Mercia in fairly recent times a certain vigorous king called Offa, who terrified all the neighbouring kings and provinces around him, and who had a great dyke built between Wales and Mercia from sea to sea’.1

When I joined the group in 1979 excavations had been carried out to show that originally the ditch had been dug in many of these gaps, and it was reasonable to infer that where there was a ditch there had also been a bank. Further excavations continued to suggest strongly that there had been a continuous earthwork and it became clear that there is no necessity to invoke Fox’s raging torrents in impassable ravines or jungle-like forests where the earthwork is no longer visible. How Offa’s engineers had dealt with river crossings was an important consideration: two excavations showed that, although no evidence remained above ground level, Offa’s Dyke had been built right to the banks of the River Camlad, a major tributary of the River Severn on the Shropshire/ Montgomery border. It is to be seen on the banks of lesser streams although we have observed that where it could move slightly off-line to go round their source it did so. Again it is sensitive to topography and carefully sited to take the best line. Its relationship to the River Severn near Welshpool on the Shropshire/ Montgomery border is still uncertain, with a three-mile gap between the two known ends. We hope that our current fieldwork will go some way to elucidating its line here.

‘Rex, nomine Offa, qui vallum magnum inter Britanniam atque Merciam de mari usque ad mare fieri imperavit.’2 The ongoing research discussed in this paper was carried out under the direction of David Hill from 1971, and under our joint direction from 1984. Some of the conclusions and comments in this paper are my own and may still be the subject of healthy debate. The fieldwork is the result of the labours of a considerable number of trained Extra-Mural students without whom this research could not have proceeded, as it has never received outside funding. Offa’s Dyke (in Welsh Clawdd Offa) is a linear earthwork running along the border country between present day England and Wales (Figure 1). For much of its length the line can be seen clearly as a sequence of straight field boundaries that are particularly striking from the air but they can also be traced on large-scale maps. The earthwork consists of a bank with a ditch to its west and, when excavated, the ditch is six feet deep on average and the bank still stands to a height of six feet in some places. Its line is sensitive to the topography and rarely loses clear, and sometimes spectacular, views to the west. There are however some places on the ground where it is more difficult to find, and David Hill’s work in the 1970s and early 1980s was largely concerned with identifying the exact line. The method used was a combination of air photographs, maps, fieldwork, geophysical survey and finally excavation to locate the diagnostic feature, the ditch.

The question of the northern terminus had been considered from the beginning of the research and it was clear that, prior to the work of Fox, Offa’s Dyke had been considered to end in the area of Treuddyn, to the south of Mold. When Fox began his inventory he spent his first three-week season in the north and, knowing Asser’s statement that it should go ‘from sea to sea’, he suggested a line to fill the twenty-two miles between the traditional terminus and the sea at Prestatyn. Fox found two places along this line where he saw evidence for an earthwork, a total length of 3.75 miles within the 22 miles to the sea. Investigations have failed to show any trace of the shorter of these lengths near Babell; the 2.5-mile length of undoubted earthwork near Whitford has been shown to be of a different construction from Offa’s Dyke, complete in itself and medieval in date. Thus the northern terminus would still seem to be where tradition has always placed it, south of Mold near Treuddyn.

Sir Cyril Fox had carried out a field-by-field inventory of the state of Offa’s Dyke in the 1920s and 1930s, published year by year in Archaeologia Cambrensis and then gathered in one volume in 1955 without amendment to the fieldwork record or conclusions.3 This fieldwork is an invaluable record today when so much has been destroyed since his time. In the same volume Fox published, with great confidence and authority, some far-reaching conclusions based on his observations. Fox seems to have had a firm belief that if there was no surface evidence for the Dyke it had never been built in that place. He therefore offered reasons as to why there should be these gaps in the line and an impassable ravine with a raging torrent or impenetrable forest were his two most frequent explanations. It was to these gaps that David Hill first turned his attention. As Fox had also published his inventory of Wat’s Dyke and some Short Dykes in the same volume these were also investigated by what became known as ‘The Offa’s Dyke Project’.

Turning to the south, from Mold to Rushock Hill, on the northern side of the Herefordshire Plain, Offa’s Dyke can be traced as a continuous earthwork for a distance of sixty-four miles. From this point to the Severn Estuary in the south is a further 59.5 miles, in which a total of only 13.8 miles were suggested by Fox to have had discontinuous lengths of built earthwork. Fox was again trying to follow through Asser’s ‘from sea to sea’ comment and, as in the north, he had little success. Fox’s postulated line across the Herefordshire Plain has now been investigated. There are a number of short lengths of earthworks on the plain but techniques that have been successful elsewhere, including aerial photography, geophysical survey and excavation, have been unable to make them into a coherent whole. Indeed these techniques have shown the longest suggested length, the Rowe Ditch, to

1

Keynes and Lapidge, Alfred the Great, p. 71. Stevenson, Asser’s Life of King Alfred, ch. 14, p. 12. 3 Fox, Offa’s Dyke. 2

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Offa’s Dyke

Figure 1: OFFA’S DYKE

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Margaret Worthington be a complete cross-valley dyke with a bell-ended ditch on the valley side.

400 and probably later and he felt a date in Offa’s reign was not inconsistent with his discoveries. So the earthwork is late Roman or post-Roman! The medieval ridge and furrow in Shropshire seems to respect it and therefore an early medieval date seems likely and that it was built by Offa a possibility.

South of Hereford, on the lowlands, Fox had suggested that the River Wye was a sufficient barrier. This seems unlikely in an age when the rivers were more frequently used for transport than they are today. However no earthwork has been found in this area. Our attention then turned further south to the east bank of the River Wye in Gloucestershire. There are undoubted banks and ditches on the English side of the river as it approaches the Severn Estuary. It does seem perverse of Fox however to suggest that the more northerly length of the River Wye on the Herefordshire floodplain was seen to be an adequate protection whereas the considerable cliffs and tidal reaches of the River Wye near Chepstow required a built earthwork. If there is anywhere with a ravine and a raging torrent it is here. We have looked at all the proposed lengths in this area and Gloucestershire County Council have carried out more intensive fieldwork and we agree with their conclusions that there are three separate monuments, none dated and only one short length bearing any resemblance to Offa’s Dyke.4 In the same area, an earthwork runs between two river cliffs and cuts off a low, marshy area between the River Wye and the River Severn as they approach their confluence. This is of a similar build to Offa’s Dyke: it is built on the rising ground; holds the contours; has excellent views to the south-west and on excavation the ditch is six feet deep. It is possible, perhaps probable, that this is an earthwork complete in itself designed to cut off the approaches inland and perhaps control traffic using the important early crossing of the Severn estuary between Beachley and Aust. It may date from Offa’s reign but to try to make it a part of Offa’s Dyke, last seen nearly sixty miles to the north, is optimistic in the extreme.

The only early documentary reference is that in Asser; but if we cannot trust his ‘from sea to sea’ statement, can we trust his belief that it was built by Offa? Why did he use that particular phrase? Offa’s Dyke is reasonably close to the Dee Estuary in the north and the River Wye in Herefordshire but it seems unlikely that Asser would have considered this to be ‘from sea to sea’. This convenient Latin tag de mari usque ad mare is met frequently in early writings. Gildas in The Ruin of Britain uses it when describing the second wall built in stone (Hadrian’s Wall) that ran straight ‘from sea to sea’ ‘de mari usque ad mare’ and Gildas uses it again when describing the woes of the British – ‘the impious easterners spread from sea to sea.’.5 Bede also uses it when describing an earthen wall he attributes to Severus (c.AD 189-206) and a second time, in what is an almost direct quote from Gildas, concerning the stone wall.6 The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle is probably following Bede when it too uses the phrase to describe an earthen wall ascribed to Severus.7 Doubtless the term is used in other contexts. It seems likely, to me at least, that Asser, familiar with a range of sources, and writing in Latin, might have adopted this terminology, perhaps without exact knowledge of where Clawdd Offa was, simply to attempt to give an impression of great length. If we accept this as a literary device then perhaps we can accept Asser’s statement that Offa built a dyke, especially as the information was contained in what is an aside to his main point concerning Offa’s daughter.

In summary, we have a central section of earthwork between Treuddyn and Rushock Hill that is sixty-four miles long and, except for the one river crossing near Welshpool, our research has produced strong evidence for its being continuous. The earliest maps and descriptions call only this length ‘Offa’s Dyke’. To north and south there are a number of earthworks that extensive fieldwork has shown to be separate and not part of a coherent whole. Offa’s Dyke therefore is an earthwork 64 miles in length that does not extend from sea to sea. We should consider next what more can be said about it. Does it date to the reign of Offa? How did it function? Why was it built?

What can its build and its siting tell us of its purpose and how it functioned? Excavations have shown its build to be formidable. A barrier that was a minimum of twelve feet from the bottom of the ditch to the top of the bank can not be crossed easily. If we postulate a cresting structure such as a palisade then it was formidable. The ditch is always to be found on the west, that is the Welsh side, and so it is built against the Welsh. In recent years we have been working on a detailed measured survey of Offa’s Dyke and other earthworks and one of the benefits of undertaking such a detailed topographical survey has been the time spent walking up and down or gazing into the distance while holding a survey staff or a ranging rod. It holds command of the ground to the west even when not built on the highest available point. It is very carefully sited. A few metres to east or west of its actual position and the control is lost or it runs into difficulties with surface water drainage. When it does appear to give up the best situation the dead ground is covered from north and south and usually the seemingly poor line can be shown to be the shortest line that makes strategic sense between two points. Modern boundaries tend to be lines drawn on maps but this is a line drawn on the ground by people with a keen eye for topography almost certainly

Firstly the thorny problem of dating. Archaeologically we are without a firm date for the earthwork. It has consistently refused to produce any finds or material that could be dated by carbon-fourteen or dendrochronology. Sir Cyril Fox excavated in Ffrith village, not far from the northern terminus, and found artefacts of Roman date, mainly abraded Roman pottery and tile fragments. These he dated to no later than AD 200 for manufacture and noted that their abraded appearance suggested that they had not been buried immediately. This material was within the make-up of the bank and in the upper levels of buried soils beneath it. Fox concluded that the bank could not have been built before AD

5

Winterbottom, Gildas: The Ruin of Britain, 18.2; 24. Bede, HE I.5; I.12. 7 ASC, C, s.a. 189. 6

4

Hoyle, ‘Offa’s Dyke Management Survey 1995-6’.

93

Offa’s Dyke coupled with information from someone with local knowledge.

the Vale of Llangollen records that he ‘annexed the inheritance of Powys…throughout nine (years?) from the power of the English which he made into a sword-land by fire’.9 The inscription was transcribed by the antiquarian Edward Llwyd in 1696 before modern pollution rendered it illegible. The names recorded are consistent with the ruling Cadellin dynasty which may have its origins earlier than the battle of Chester, as discussed by Wendy Davies,10 although the earliest sources do not refer to Powys by name. Concenn, whom the inscription tells us had the stone inscribed, is in the genealogies and recorded as dying in AD 854. Considering him as a great-grandson, we might suppose a lapse of perhaps 45 years if all generations were born whilst their fathers were very young, or more than 90 years if their fathers were more mature. Thus the height of Eliseg’s power is likely to fall within Offa’s reign and a date in the 760s is usually suggested. So we have Powys in conflict with Mercia and the traditional limits of Powys in this early period extended from near Mold as far as the bend of the Wye at Glasbury.11 It would seem that the time of Eliseg gives us a context for a line being drawn along the particular length of the Mercian border that it shared with Powys. There was no need for such a barrier between Mercia and the various other Welsh kingdoms as they were not in dispute with Mercia at the time.

Its siting therefore argues for a military purpose, at least in part. It would be unreasonable to think of it as being thickly garrisoned and no evidence has been found for forts or towers along its length although we cannot rule them out completely. This is not a Roman style limes, but it could not be crossed accidentally. Any groups that did cross it could have been intercepted by the local population before they could return to their homes with raided cattle, prisoners or looted goods. Swift guerrilla raids were the preferred Welsh style of attack and one of their aims may have been to destroy crops and settlements as they attempted to regain land taken from them by the Anglo-Saxons, albeit many years before. It has been suggested by Fox that there were a small number of entrances as part of the original design, and by Noble that there were many entrances.8 We have tested all but one of Fox’s suggested original gateways by looking for evidence that the ditch was dug continuously, as it was normal in the Anglo-Saxon period, or indeed earlier, to leave a causeway at an entrance rather than construct a bridge across a continuous ditch. In each case the ditch was present, suggesting that no gateway had existed at these points. A two-mile length in the Montgomery plain, where a number of early routeways are known to cross the line of Offa’s Dyke, was investigated more intensively. All breaks in the bank that could be shown to pre-date the earliest edition of the Ordnance Survey maps were investigated along this length. All were found to have had a ditch in place originally and therefore presumably a bank also. Out of the eight excavations, two had cobbled trackways over the infilled ditch, representing medieval routes between Montgomery and outlying areas. There are of course modern roads crossing the Dyke in the area and where a major one was tested, inadvertently by Shropshire County Council, the ditch could be seen in the section of their trench. It seems likely therefore that either there were no gateways or they were very few and far between. This is a situation that could not have lasted for long given the interconnectivity of the local populations. Perhaps we should think in terms of a Berlin Wall; erected to meet a particular need at a particular time and totally unnecessary when the political situation changed.

Much of this paper is, of necessity, built on inference. What is important is that these inferences are founded on a solid base of nearly thirty years work by the Offa’s Dyke Project. That body of work includes information from over fifty excavations on Offa’s Dyke that were planned to answer specific questions, insights from detailed survey of the earthwork and examination of aerial photographs. We can say, with some degree of confidence, that the line, the siting, the continuous nature and the length of this enigmatic monument are now better understood, and this understanding leads us to an historical context within Offa’s reign that is compatible with the archaeological evidence.

If we accept the Offan date then why did he have it built? Conflict between Anglo-Saxon kingdoms and the various Welsh kingdoms was inclined to break out at regular intervals although they could also be allies. Welsh traditions record the loss of land to the Anglo-Saxons, with the loss of Rhychdir Powys (indicating arable land) in the western part of Shropshire being particularly mourned. Then, as now, the actual border between Englishness and Welshness was doubtless somewhat blurred in the borderlands and intermarriage normal. This may have helped to preserve the peace for part of the time but, given a strong and ambitious Welsh king in any area, this long-standing wrong could become the focus of armed conflict. Such a king, Eliseg by name, would seem to have been in power in the Kingdom of Powys during Offa’s reign. An inscription on a monument in

9

Nash-Williams, Early Christian Monumentsof Wales, No. 182. Davies, Wales in the Early Middle Ages, p. 101ff. 11 Williams, An Introduction to the History of Wales, p. 114. 10

8

Noble, pp. 437-8.

94

Margaret Worthington

Abbreviations ASC The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, C, printed in English Historical Documents I, c.500-1042, ed. D. Whitelock (London 1955). Bede, HE Bede: A History of the English Church and People, ed. L. Sherley-Price (Harmondsworth 1968).

Bibliography Davies, W., Wales in the Early Middle Ages (Leicester, 1982). Fox, Sir Cyril, Offa’s Dyke: A Field Survey of the Western Frontier-Works of Mercia in the Seventh and Eighth Centuries AD (London, 1955). Hoyle, J., ‘Offa’s Dyke Management Survey 1995-6’, Glevensis 29 (1996), pp. 29-33. Keynes, S. & M. Lapidge, Alfred the Great: Asser’s Life of King Alfred and other contemporary sources (Harmondsworth, 1983). Nash-Williams, V. E., The Early Christian Monuments of Wales (Cardiff, 1950). Noble, F., unpublished MPhil. thesis, Open University, 1977. Noble, F., Offa’s Dyke Reviewed, British Archaeological Report 114 (Oxford, 1983). Stevenson, W. H., ed., Asser’s Life of King Alfred together with the Annals of St Neots (1904, reprinted 1959 with additional notes by D. Whitelock). Williams, A. H., An Introduction to the History of Wales, Volume 1 (Cardiff, 1941). Winterbottom, M., Gildas: The Ruin of Britain and other documents (Chichester, 1978).

95

The Eighth-Century Urban Landscape David Hill charter of his sub-king Frithuwold in 672-4.4 The law-code issued by Hlothere and Eadric (673–c.85) indicates that the Kentish kings regulated the sale of property in London and had a hall there.5 By the early eighth century Lundenwic’s position as an international centre engaged in maritime trade was evidently well established, for it was described by Bede in c. 730 as a multorum emporium populorum terra marique uenientium, a ‘mart of many nations coming to it by land and sea’.6 Bede also makes a passing reference to the sale in London in 679 of a Northumbrian prisoner to a Frisian, presumably a slave-trader.7 London’s maritime trade is also indicated by charters issued by Æthelbald of Mercia (716-57) to the Abbess of Minster in Thanet, and to the Bishops of Rochester, Worcester and London respectively, exempting them from tolls on ships landing at the port.8 According to the Historia Regum, a twelfth-century manuscript attributed to Simeon of Durham, London was destroyed by fire in 764, 798 and 801.9

Great strides in the study of early medieval English and Continental towns were made in the past half-century and we have been left with a new intellectual structure for the AngloSaxon’s town. Basically it is bipartite: there are the international foundations of the wics or emporia, exemplified by the excavations at Hamwic (Saxon Southampton) and then what is generally regarded as the true beginnings of urbanism with Alfred the Great’s impressive series of multifunctional burhs, fortified places with, in some cases, planned layouts and paved roads – even, in the case of Winchester, a water supply system. The type-site for this is Winchester, recognized as a result of the pioneering work of Martin Biddle.1 How does eighth-century development and, in particular, the role of the king fit into this? There would seem to be three main elements, for the Alfredian pattern is for a fortified centre, with a market and a mint. The Alfredian burh would also appear to have an administrative role. In the eighth century there is a landscape consisting of the wics and emporia, but also showing a greater complexity, even a confusion, for all towns do not begin with Alfred although, unfortunately, the sources tend to. The documentary and numismatic material comes ‘on stream’ in the ninth century, but there is much happening in the reigns of Æthelbald and Offa.

The origin of the town Another set of sites form a less clear-cut grouping. These may be signalled by an entry sub anno 764 in Historia Regum Annno eodem multae urbes monasteriaque atque villae per diversa loca, necnon et regna, repentino igne vastatae sunt, verbi gratia Stretburg, Venta civitas, Homwic, Londonia civitas, Eboraca civitas, Donacester, aliaque multa loca illa plaga consussit…10

Wics and Emporia In the England of the eighth century there is a set of sites primarily mercantile, the wics and emporia, the subject of a recent study.2 These wic sites are part of a European network of undefended sites and, in England, they include Southampton, Ipswich, London and, perhaps, York. Claims have been made for some other sites, perhaps smaller beach sites such as Meols in the Wirral. But there can be no doubt that the four major English sites are not only large and important, but are as extensive, or greater, than the famous continental sites such as Quentovic and Dorestad.3 That the English wics fit into the general pattern of European emporia can easily be demonstrated (Figures 1 and 2).

In the same year many towns, monasteries and villages in various districts and kingdoms were suddenly devastated by fire; for instance, the calamity struck Stretburg, Winchester, Southampton, the city of London, the city of York, Doncaster and many other places…11 An easy and convenient method of checking a list of urban sites is not available until the link is made in the reign of Athelstan between mint, market and fortification.12 A consensus has emerged in modern standard works that the continuous history of Anglo-Saxon and medieval towns begins with Alfred the Great, who founded a majority of the Anglo-Saxon urban sites, and that these were usually laid out in rectilinear street patterns to reflect their functions of defence, trade and refuge. This ‘burghal system’ was backed by military reforms and included the early warning of the beacons.13 Nowhere was this to be seen more clearly than in the ‘type-site’ of Winchester. As a result of a series of

Clearly the English wics ranked along with the European sites in terms of size. London has a comparatively full documentation at this period and can, one hopes, stand for the other English sites in terms of its complexity. Archaeological evidence suggests that Lundenwic developed into a major trading port during the second half of the seventh century. This process may have begun in the reign of Wulfhere of Mercia (658–75), overlord of Essex and Surrey, as the Saxon ‘port of London’ is first mentioned in a

4

S 1165. EHD, pp. 360-1. HE, II.3; EHD, p. 609. 7 HE, IV.20; EHD, p. 661. 8 S 86, 88, 98 and 1788. 9 EHD, pp. 249 and 250. 10 Historia Regum, ed. Arnold, p. 42. 11 EHD, p. 242. 12 Hill, ‘Athelstan’s Urban Reforms’. 13 Hill and Sharp, ‘An Anglo-Saxon Beacon System’. 5 6

1

Biddle and Keene, ‘The late Saxon burh’. Hill and Cowie, Wics: the Early Medieval Trading Centres of Northern Europe. 3 Hill et al, ’The Definition of the early medieval site of Quentovic’; for Dorestad, Netherlands (Wijk-bij-Duurstede), see Hill and Cowie, Wics: the Early Medieval Trading Centres of Northern Europe. 2

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The Eighth-century Urban Landscape

Figure 1: DATE RANGE OF EARLY MEDIEVAL SETTLEMENTS IN NORTHERN EUROPE

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David Hill

Figure 2: COMPARATIVE AREAS OF ALL KNOWN AND DEFINED WICS.

99

The Eighth-century Urban Landscape brilliant excavations by Martin Biddle we were convinced in the 1970s that all herepaths lead to Winchester.

palace of the charters has not been discovered. Similarly, Winchcombe, in what is now Gloucestershire, has an early ditch under its later Saxon fortifications.18

From the charter of Dunwald to SS Peter and Paul, Canterbury, dated 762, the following extract can be translated:

The charters, Anglo-Saxon royal diplomas, granted estates with general immunities but usually excepted three obligations: (i) service with the army; (ii) the building of fortresses and (iii) the construction of bridges. In a fundamental article Brooks has traced the development of these military obligations, emphasising that the first recorded instance of the reservation of the obligation to defend or maintain fortresses is to be found in a general grant of privileges at the Synod of Gumley in 749, made by Æethelbald of Mercia to the Mercian churches.19 The king orders …vel necessariis defensionibus arcium contra hostes non sunt renuenda, (the necessary defence of fortresses against enemies may not be refused). The king of the Hwicce reserved the defence of fortresses in 767 and 770, and Offa, in a charter dated 793 x 796, frees from all works except the usual three, which includes arcium munimentum; as with other diplomas it is emphasised that these burdens are laid upon the whole people without exceptions.20 At the Synod of Clofeshoh in 792, Offa is recorded as freeing the churches in Kent of all burdens:

+ In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. I, Dunwald, the thegn of King Ethelberht of glorious memory … a residence (villam) which is situated in the market place at the Queen’s Gate of the city of Canterbury (ad Quenegatum urbis Dorovernis) and which Hringwine now holds – the same which the aforesaid king granted with other small lands in his own right for me to possess with his tribute, and to give to whomsoever I should wish….. This land is surrounded by these boundaries: from the Queen’s gate in the south, having three perches in extent, and thence west a most straight line divides the land of the king and this, for 23 perches as far as the walled enclosure (maceria) which adjoins the city wall on the north side, having 33 rods.14 This reveals all the elements of the ‘Alfredian’ burh: we have an occupied burh which has most of the attributes of an Anglo-Saxon town – streets, market, wall, refuge and tenurial heterogeneity, before the year 800. How far indigenous urban development had progressed is demonstrated by Offa’s charter of 786, which among the appurtenances of a great estate appends a vicum… in aquilone parte venalis loci.15

Nisi expeditione intra Canciam contra paganos marinos cum classis migrantibus vel in australes Saxones si necessitas cogit, ac pontis constructionem et arcis munitionem contra paganos itemque intra fines Cantwariorum21 Allied with the expansion of urban sites is the evidence that in the reign of Offa a crossing of the floodplain of the Thames south of Oxford was constructed; this offered an exit from the land-locked kingdom of Mercia to the port of Saxon Southampton. For a state that was capable of the construction of Offa’s Dyke, the construction of a major crossing of the Thames was certainly possible. This northsouth road through Oxford was to become one of the major arteries of late Saxon and medieval England.22

There was also a long tradition of fortification in Early and Middle Saxon Britain. By the reign of Offa we have charter evidence of fortress building and maintenance, the possibility of a minimum of four forts, a possible palace site at Kingsbury by St Albans and a complex system of frontier defences. In Mercia at least there was the expertise to build burhs and, in four old Roman centres, the models for town life.

We cannot doubt that such enterprises as the provision of a network of burhs and bridges, together with Offa’s Dyke and the causeways, took place. Clearly the archaeological evidence for the wic sites with their commerce and trade, and the documentary evidence for a network of bridges and burhs shows that there was development in the reigns of Æthelbald and Offa for which we have only the barest of outlines. However it is noteworthy that there was at this time a steady expansion of urban sites throughout Europe (Figure 3).

In the same reign comes Offa’s Dyke, to the south of which is the burh of Hereford. In a series of important excavations the early history of the site has been elucidated. After a battle between the Welsh and Offa in 760 at Hereford (meaning the Army Ford), an important route centre and a gateway into Wales, it is likely that Offa fortified the site. The defences covered a rectangular fifty-acre site. There are two phases of early defence: a small, marking-out bank and ditch, followed by a rampart of gravel with a larger ditch.16 In the centre of the Mercian kingdom lies Tamworth. It may be important that, under the fortifications attributed to 913, an earlier ditch has been found which has been given an Offan context. It is not considered by the excavator to have been defensive and was five-feet deep by eight-feet wide at the top.17 Recent work has revealed an important mill but the

18

Bassett, forthcoming. Brooks, ‘The development of military obligations in eighth- and ninthcentury England’; S 92, text from BCS 178. 20 S 58, 59; S 139, text from BCS 202, 203, 274 . 21 S 134, text from BCS 848. 22 Hassall, ‘Archaeology of Oxford City’, p. 118.

14

19

S 1182, text from BCS 192. 15 S 125, text from BCS 248. 16 Noble and Shoesmith, ‘Hereford City excavations 1967’; Rahtz, ‘Hereford’. 17 Gould, ‘Third report on excavations at Tamworth, Staffs, 1968’, p. 37.

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David Hill

Figure 3: GRAPHS SHOWING THE NUMBER OF EUROPEAN TOWNS AD 400-1000

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The Eighth-century Urban Landscape Hill, D., ‘Towns as structures and functioning communities through time: the development of central places from 600 to 1066’, in D. Hooke, ed., Anglo-Saxon Settlements (Oxford, 1988), pp. 197-212.

Caveat A radically different review of these sites appeared in Jeremy Haslam’s 1987 article in World Archaeology, entitled ‘Market and fortress in England in the reign of Offa’.

Hill, D., ‘Unity and diversity – a framework of European Towns’, in R. Hodges and B. Hobley, eds, The Rebirth of Towns in the West, 700 – 1050, CBA Research Papers No. 68 (London, 1988), pp. 8-15. Hill, D., ‘Athelstan’s Urban Reforms’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History II (2001), pp. 173-185.

Abbreviations

Hill, D., D. Barrett, J. Warburton and M. Worthington, ‘The Definition of the Early Medieval Site of Quentovic’, Antiquity, Vol. 66, No. 253 (1992), pp. 965-969.

BCS W. de Gray Birch, Cartularium Saxonicum, 3 vols (London 1885-93). EHD English Historical Documents I, c.500-1042, ed. D. Whitelock, (London 19555.

Hill. D. and R. Cowie, eds, Wics: The early medieval trading centres of northern Europe (Sheffield, 1999).

HE Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, trs. and printed in EHD, see entry above. S P.H.Sawyer, Anglo-Saxon Charters: An Annotated List and Bibliography (London 1968).

Hill, D. and S. Sharp, ‘An Anglo-Saxon Beacon System’, in A.R. Rumble and A.D. Mills, eds, Names, Places and People, an Onomastic Miscellany for John McNeal Dodgson (Stamford, 1997), pp. 157-165.

Bibliography

Noble, F. and R. Shoesmith, ‘Hereford City Excavations 1967’, Transactions of the Woolhope Naturalists Field Club XXIX, Part 1 (1967). Rahtz, P. A., ‘Hereford’, Current Archaeology, Vol. 1, No.9 (1968), pp. 242-46.

Addyman, P. V. and D. Hill, ‘Saxon Southampton: A review of the evidence, Part 1’, Proceedings of the Hampshire Field Club XXV (1968), pp. 61-93. Addyman, P. V. and D. Hill, ‘Saxon Southampton: A review of the evidence, Part 2’, Proceedings of the Hampshire Field Club XXVI (1969), pp. 61-96. Arnold T., ed., Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia: Historia Regum, Rolls Series 75, II (London, 1885). Biddle, M. and D. J. Keene, ‘The late Saxon Burh’, in M. Biddle, Winchester in the Early Middle Ages (Oxford, 1976), pp. 449-69. Brooks, N. J., ‘The development of military obligations in eighth- and ninth-century England’, in P. Clemoes and K. Hughes, eds, England before the Conquest: studies in primary sources presented to Dorothy Whitelock (Cambridge, 1971), pp. 69-84. Gould, J., ‘Third report on excavations at Tamworth, Staffs, 1968 – the western entrance to the Saxon Borough’, South Staffordshire Archaeology and History Society Transactions X (1968-9). Haslam, J., ‘Market and fortress in England in the reign of Offa’, World Archaeology 19, No.1 (1987), pp. 76-93. Hassall, T., ‘Archaeology of Oxford City’, in G. Briggs, J. Cook and T. Rowley, eds, Archaeology of the Oxford Region (Oxford, 1986), pp. 115-34.

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Military Obligations and Mercian Supremacy in the Eighth Century Gareth Williams seminal article by Nicholas Brooks, and more recently in a more extensive treatment by Richard Abels.1

Warfare features heavily in contemporary accounts of AngloSaxon England. It features as a regular event in chronicles, histories, and even saints’ lives, and forms a central theme in a significant proportion of the surviving Old English and Old Welsh verse. Nevertheless, the study of military organisation in the Anglo-Saxon period is highly problematic. Chronicles and similar sources seldom give more than a bare outline, mentioning that battles were fought, but not necessarily who won, or even who was fighting, still less why, or how the armies were gathered. Literary sources may give rather more detailed information concerning individual battles, but provide little detail on underlying structures of military organisation. Furthermore, while poems like Beowulf or the Battle of Maldon appear to provide useful information on the social structures behind warfare, the historian has to face additional problems in distinguishing between literary motifs, authorial agenda, and historical fact. More technical sources, such as charters, Domesday Book and the Burghal Hidage, undoubtedly contain details of considerable importance to the military historian, but the interpretation of such sources is seldom entirely straightforward, and it is difficult to know how far it is possible to generalise from the particulars of military obligation described in any individual source.

The appearance of these obligations as royal rights under Æthelbald and Offa raises several questions. Does the appearance of these obligations in the charters indicate that they are new? How significant is it that they develop first in Mercian charters? How do they relate to the development of centralised royal authority? How do they relate to offensive and defensive warfare? While it is impossible to produce definitive answers to any of these questions, the remainder of the paper will attempt to address each question in turn, and to relate the answers to the broader issue of how the development of military obligations relates to traditional interpretations of Mercian supremacy during the reigns of Æthelbald and Offa. Bridgework and fortress work first appear as reservations to the general immunities granted to the Mercian Church by Æthelbald at the Synod of Gumley in 749.2 Service in the host first reliably appears in a charter of Offa from between 793 and 796.3 The appearance of bridgework and fortress work in the context of the Synod of Gumley makes the antiquity of such obligations very difficult to assess. Since the Synod dealt with general privileges of the Church, it is possible that these obligations were much earlier, but had not previously been uniformly applied, or that the privileges of the Synod merely restate and confirm earlier obligations. It could also be that these obligations were only recently imposed, and Eric John pointed to the fact that the famous letter of Boniface and seven other missionary bishops to Æthelbald in 747 specifically reproves him for violating the privileges and stealing the revenues of the lands of the churches and monasteries within his kingdom, and for allowing his earldormen and companions to offer greater violence to monks and priests than other Christian kings had done before. A supplementary letter from Boniface to Archbishop Cuthbert of Canterbury mentions more specifically that Æthelbald was forcing churchmen to engage in manual labour on royal projects, which could easily be taken as an allusion to bridgework and fortress work.4 According to this view, the Synod of Gumley can be seen as a settlement of precisely which dues Æthelbald could demand, and which were unacceptable.

The fact that evidence about military organisation is so patchy helped to create a tendency amongst earlier historians to bring together fragments of information from very different times and places to create a synthetic picture of Anglo-Saxon warfare as a whole. The problems inherent in this approach are obvious. Quite apart from ignoring the possibility of significant differences between different Anglo-Saxon kingdoms before the unification of England in the tenth century, using Domesday Book to explain military organisation in the reigns of Æthelbald or Offa is just as inappropriate as using records of the British army in the Second World War to explain military organisation during the English Civil War, or records of the English Civil War to explain the organisation of Edward III’s army in France. Not all scholars have adopted this synthetic approach to Anglo-Saxon military obligations, and a number have attributed particular changes and developments to specific periods. In particular, the eighth century has been identified as an important period of change in military organisation, with the kingdom of Mercia as the focus of that change. Three specific obligations, sometimes misleadingly referred to as the ‘common burdens’, appear for the first time as reservations of royal rights within grants of liberties to the Church by the Mercian kings. The obligation of bridgework and fortress work first appeared during the reign of Æthelbald, while service in the host is first mentioned specifically during the reign of Offa. Eric John suggested that these obligations developed as a consequence of the development of bookland tenure during the reign of Æthelbald, and this idea was developed and modified in a

If Æthelbald really was introducing bridgework and fortress work as new obligations onto Church land, it is important to consider why he should do so, since the granting of ‘bookland’ to the Church was well established before his reign. A possible answer may be that such action only became necessary once the existing immunities of the 1

John; Land Tenure in Early England, pp. 64-79; John, Orbis Britanniae, pp. 64-127; Brooks, ‘Development of Military Obligations in Eighth- and Ninth-century England’; Abels, Lordship and Military Obligation in AngloSaxon England, pp. 43-57. 2 S 92, BCS 178; Brooks, p. 76. 3 S 139, BCS 274; Brooks, p. 78. 4 EHD 177; Tangl 78, MGH Ep.Selectae I, p. 169; John, Land Tenure, pp. 71-2.

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Military Obligations and Mercian Supremacy in the Eighth Century Church became sufficiently abused. A clear indication of the problems that rulers faced as a result of the abuse of ‘bookland’ immunities can be found in Bede’s letter to Ecgberht, archbishop of York, written on November 5th, 734. Bede complains that:

informed of the details, attacked as a matter of principle any encroachment on the privileges of the Church.8 One should note that even such a major patron of the Church as Alfred the Great did not escape criticism from the Pope when necessity forced him to encroach on Church privileges.9

There are innumerable places, as we all know, allowed the name of monasteries by a most foolish manner of speaking, but having nothing at all of a monastic way of life… there are many and large places of this kind, which, as is commonly said, are useful neither to God nor man, in that neither is there kept there a regular life according to God’s will, nor are they owned by thegns or gesiths…, who defend our people from the barbarians… For – what indeed is disgraceful to tell – those who are totally ignorant of the monastic life have received under their control so many places in the name of monasteries… that there is a complete lack of places where the sons of nobles or of veteran thegns can receive an estate; and thus, unoccupied and unmarried…, on this account they either leave the country for which they ought to fight and go across the sea, or else with greater guilt and shamelessness devote themselves to loose living and fornication….5

It thus seems appropriate to link the development of bridgework and fortress work with the extension of bookland under Æthelbert. Unfortunately, it is not really possible to trace the development of these obligations very clearly in other sources. Narrative accounts of warfare make no clear references to the use of fortifications or fortified bridges before, during, or for a long time after, the reign of Æthelbald, making it very difficult to assess when military construction really appeared for the first time. Archaeological evidence is not much clearer. Steven Bassett discusses the evidence for fortified burhs, and his arguments may be briefly summarised: at three burghal sites in western Mercia – Hereford, Tamworth and Winchcombe – it is possible to trace early levels of urban fortification below the later fortifications built by Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, in the early tenth century. However, none of these early levels can be securely dated, and while they may date from the period of Mercian supremacy in the eighth century, they may actually be either earlier or later, or the three may date from different periods. Thus, although an eighth-century Mercian predecessor of this network of burhs introduced in Alfredian Wessex has been postulated,10 the evidence for this is negligible, and the theory must be regarded as highly speculative. The excavated burhs provide a very limited corroboration for the obligation to contribute to fortification in Mercia, but on the current evidence provide no real information about either the dating or the extent of the obligation.

While it is tempting to interpret this as an early reference to a younger generation opting out of military service with the motto ‘Make Love, Not War’, Bede’s implications are clear. Kings should only grant ‘bookland’ to those who will benefit their kingdoms: either genuine churchmen, or the warriors necessary for the defence of the kingdom. This system was being abused by those who accepted all the privileges of Church status, but fulfilled none of the responsibilities. The granting of land to men ‘useful neither to God nor man’ left the king without resources to reward his younger warriors adequately, leading to a potential military crisis. This problem was far from unique in early medieval Europe. Brooks cites similar problems in Visigothic Spain in the seventh century; the seizure of Church lands by the early Carolingians to endow their warriors,6 and the problem of people of wealthy families entering the Church as a means of maintaining status whilst evading the concomitant duties, can be traced back to the fifth century.7 Although Bede’s letter refers specifically to the kingdom of Northumbria, and the fact that Mercia had been Christianised later than Northumbria means that the extension of ‘bookland’ privileges may thus be assumed also to have taken place somewhat later, it is likely that Æthelbald faced similar pressures on the land available to reward his followers. This was particularly important, given the number of rival branches of the Mercian royal house, since the king needed to maintain a larger body of loyal followers than his rivals to ensure his continued royal authority. John Blair has suggested very plausibly that the forced labour of monks and priests referred to in Boniface’s letter may represent an attempt to assert royal authority over pseudo-monasteries of the sort described by Bede, while Boniface, not being fully

Similarly, while Offa’s Dyke clearly required a large-scale royal building programme, we know nothing of the administrative underpinning of its construction. In this respect it is important to note that the most recent dating of the Danevirke, a comparable defensive structure in Jutland, takes it back to c. 700.11 At that date, a system of charterbased obligations within the Danish kingdom is most unlikely, and the Danevirke thus provides a clear indication that the obligation of fortress-work need not be the most appropriate model for the construction of Offa’s Dyke. Furthermore, we lack any contemporary attribution of the construction of the Dyke to Offa, nor is the Dyke firmly dated archaeologically.12 Like the burhs, Offa’s Dyke is consistent with recorded military obligations under Æthelbald and Offa, but adds nothing to our understanding of those obligations, and need not necessarily be related. On this basis, we have no specific reason to challenge the suggestion that the obligations of bridgework and fortress work first developed under Æthelbald, but we must admit the possibility that this was not the case.

8

See Blair, The Church in Anglo-Saxon Society (Oxford, forthcoming). Smyth, King Alfred the Great, pp. 41-2; EHD, no. 222, pp. 811-13. 10 Haslam, Early Medieval Towns, pp. 19-24. 11 Andersen, Danevirke. 12 Hill and Worthington, Offa’s Dyke; see also Margaret Worthington, ‘Offa’s Dyke’, above, in this volume. 9

5

EHD 170. Brooks, ‘Development of Military Obligations’, p. 74, n. 2. 7 Jones, The Later Roman Empire, II, pp. 920-29. 6

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Gareth Williams A further problem with the introduction of military obligations lies in the chance of documentary survival. Although bridgework and fortress work appear in the surviving charters to develop later in Kent and Wessex than in Mercia, the limited amount of evidence may be misleading. Even more misleading may be the apparent absence of such obligations in East Anglia and Northumbria. Since no charters of this period survive from either kingdom, one cannot expect any evidence of military organisation.13 It is important to note, however, that Bede’s letter to Ecgberht clearly implies some association between landholding (probably in bookland tenure) and military service. Furthermore, the development of regal coinage in both Northumbria and East Anglia in the mid-eighth century at the same time as, or even slightly before, that of Offa, indicates a similar approach to the expression of royal authority, even though it does not necessarily imply that that authority was as great as that of Offa.14

very strong, the lack of formal structure made it relatively easy for either side to terminate the relationship, and either individuals or the warband as a whole could simply refuse to follow their leader’s wishes. By contrast, the military obligations inherent in bookland tenure are set down specifically as a right, and set down in perpetuity. The military service was also tied directly to the king, even if the personal lord of the individual landholder was somebody else. The grant of land was intended to be permanent, but the landholder no longer had the right to refuse service. However, this raises a second issue concerning central authority, since it supposes the power of the central authority to enforce the obligations set down in the charters. This ties in to the distinction between offensive and defensive warfare. In this respect, Timothy Reuter’s work on military obligations in the Carolingian Empire is very significant. He argues that the appearance of specific military obligations in the Frankish capitularies at the beginning of the ninth century, and particularly the imposition of military service onto very minor landholders, represents a shift from offensive to defensive warfare. This he sees not as a result of military resources of the Carolingians having been exhausted, but as a result of the growing wealth and power of the Empire making it a prime target for external attack. The need to defend against external attack required a structured system of defence, including the obligation to serve. By contrast, he argues that offensive warfare was primarily undertaken by warbands motivated by a crude cost/benefit analysis. Only those who could afford to equip themselves for war, or who were so equipped by their lords, and who had sufficient wealth and leisure to leave the care of the land in the hands of others, would be able to go on offensive military expeditions.16 This fits with what is known of Anglo-Saxon warfare in the eighth-century. The most famous, and most detailed, instance is the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle’s account of the killing of Cynewulf of Wessex by his rival Cyneheard, and the vengeance taken by Cynewulf’s loyal followers. The account makes it clear that the followers of both leaders were willing to accept death rather than betray their lords. It also makes it clear that a small warband was sufficient to overthrow the reigning king, and that Cyneheard might have expected to become king himself had the surviving leaders of Cynewulf’s men been willing to accept him as lord.17 The Life of St. Guthlac portrays Æthelbald himself as the lord of a personal warband before he became king,18 and Offa’s seizure of the kingdom from Beornred also suggests that different branches of the royal house were able to attract warbands to support their rival claims, doubtless in return for the promise of suitable rewards. Rival factions in Northumbria seem equally to have been able to raise warbands when necessary.

Even once obligations do appear in the charters, there is a further problem in the textual traditions of different scriptoria. Brooks has pointed out that in ninth-century Kent the three obligations are normally reserved in charters produced by the Canterbury scriptorium, but normally not in charters of the Rochester scriptorium. This he takes to be a difference in the practice of the two scriptoria rather than a genuine difference in military obligations in East Kent and West Kent respectively. If this interpretation is correct, it is possible that any or all of the three obligations may have existed in areas with existing charters without being mentioned specifically. A Kentish charter of Æthelberht II from 732 mentions ‘royal rights’ without further clarification, and it is likely that this refers to service in the host, but possible that bridgework and fortress work were also included. A West Saxon charter of Æthelheard from 739 refers specifically only to expeditio, service in the host, but other obligations may also have been understood to be included.15 The evidence as it stands suggests that the development of specified military obligations as a condition of ‘bookland’ tenure occurred first in Mercia, especially in the case of bridgework and fortress work. However, because of the limited evidence, this is far from certain. What is certain is that this change had taken place in Mercia by the mid- to late-eighth century, but this does not necessarily imply a higher degree of royal authority in Mercia, or that the Mercia of Æthelbald and Offa had a more sophisticated military apparatus than neighbouring kingdoms. Nevertheless, the development of military obligations on ‘bookland’ is directly tied to centralised authority in two ways. Firstly, military service was no longer simply a matter of personal lordship between lord and follower, in which loyalty was rewarded by short-term grants of land, sustenance and movable wealth. Although the personal bond of lordship appears in Anglo-Saxon literature to have been

Obligations on ‘bookland’ play no necessary part in this, whether in aggressive warfare against external enemies in search of plunder or tribute, or in internal warfare to seize or maintain control of the kingdom. Legal obligations were

13

Brooks, ‘Development of Military Obligations’, p. 80. See Marion Archibald, ‘Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context’ and Derek Chick, ‘The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries’, below, in this volume. 15 Brooks, pp. 73-6. 14

16

Reuter, ‘Plunder and Tribute in the Carolingian Empire’. ASC, s.a.757, printed in EHD, pp. 162-3; Abels, Lordship and Military Obligation, p. 35. 18 Colgrave, Felix’s Life of Guthlac, chs XVI-XVII; Abels, ibid., p. 35. 17

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Military Obligations and Mercian Supremacy in the Eighth Century equally unnecessary for purely local defence. When threatened by attack, the people within a specific locality had a simple choice. They could defend the property in which they had a vested interest at the risk of their lives, or they could run away, risking the destruction of their property. Such a decision would be based on the assessment of the risks on either side of the equation, not on the obligations due to a distant lord. Furthermore, if the inhabitants of a particular settlement or locality did decide to fight, such a decision would be based on the willingness of a sufficient number of able-bodied men to fight, irrespective of status, rather than on the arbitrary number of men required to serve under any system of obligation. Despite the danger of using later evidence, it is interesting to note the distinction in the twelfth-century law codes of western Norway between service in the royal host, and local defence. The terms of service in the host were stated precisely, if not (to the modern historian) very clearly, but if an alarm was raised locally, everyone was to serve, ‘both thegn and thrall’.19 It was when defence extended beyond purely local concerns that military obligations became necessary. Obligations were necessary to compel people to defend lands and property in which they had no vested interest, since those serving in such a defence force risked losing their lives, but had nothing to gain. The same applies to the labour expended on fortress work and bridgework. While the defences of the burhs may possibly have been built and garrisoned entirely from their own hinterlands, the construction and garrisoning of a major earthwork like Offa’s Dyke probably involved the compulsory contribution of people not directly threatened by invasions from Powys, whether this was organised in terms of obligation on ‘bookland’, or some form of forced conscription.

Mercian expansion and the consolidation of the extended Mercian state also created a requirement for more than purely local defence. Arguably, this requirement had also existed during the reigns of Penda and Wulfhere, since their hegemonies stretched over a very wide area. However, as Damian Tyler argues elsewhere in this volume, the military relationship between the Mercian kings and their neighbouring petty kingdoms was very different in the seventh and eighth centuries. While Æthelbald and Offa aimed at direct control of subject kingdoms, the earlier Mercian kings seem to have been content to establish overlordship over existing rulers, demanding tribute and an element of military service, and leaving the rulers in charge of their own kingdoms.21 This meant that each of these kingdoms could, to some extent, take care of its own local defence. Furthermore, the cluster of petty kingdoms around the Mercian heartland provided a buffer zone protecting Mercia itself. While Penda and Wulfhere may have summoned their client kings for defensive purposes, there is no reason to suppose that they received anything more than service from those rulers and their immediate followers. However, the situation changed in the eighth century. The petty kingdoms seem largely to have been absorbed into the larger kingdoms, although they probably retained strong elements of regional identity. Mercia became a much larger kingdom, but potential enemies had also consolidated into larger kingdoms. While there is no indication that armies became larger as a result of the creation of these superkingdoms, the territories ruled directly by Æthelbald and Offa were much larger than those of their predecessors, and they required a correspondingly higher degree of defence. This was especially true for Offa once he took over direct authority in the neighbouring kingdoms of East Anglia and Kent. It is interesting to note, however, the limitations to the military service which Offa demanded in Kent. According to the record of the Synod of Clofesho, traditionally dated to 792, but possibly slightly later, Offa made a general imposition of military obligation on ‘bookland’ in Kent. This specifically included:

If one accepts this link between specific military obligations and a system of national defence, one must consider what pre-conditions would have to pertain to allow the creation and functioning of such a system. There are four fundamental pre-conditions.20 Firstly, there would have to be sufficient administrative facility for the system to be organised. Secondly, there would have to be an established idea of the nation or polity as something worth defending. Thirdly, there would have to be a sufficient external threat to make defence necessary. Finally, there would have to be a sufficiently strong central power to enforce compliance from those not inclined to serve of their own accord.

campaigns within Kent against pagan seamen with migrant fleets, and amongst the South Saxons as necessity dictates, and the construction of bridges and fortifications against the pagans, again within the borders of the Kentish people.22

The first condition, administrative facility, clearly existed by the reign of Æthelbald. The adoption of Christianity had brought with it access to literate administration, and it was clerical literacy that had led to the introduction of ‘bookland’ tenure, as well as (in some kingdoms) written law. However, literate administration was not new in the reign of Æthelbald, nor was it exclusive to Mercia. On grounds of administrative facility alone, military obligations could have developed in Kent by the early seventh century, in Northumbria by the middle of the century, and in East Anglia, Mercia and Wessex well before the end of the century.

Offa thus seems to have been careful to limit the service of his Kentish subjects to the Kentish kingdom or at most to neighbouring Sussex, rather than obliging them to serve in Mercia itself, the homeland of their oppressors. A similar limitation can be found in a Frankish capitulary of 807, concerning the military service from the Saxons, who, like the people of Kent, had only relatively recently been conquered. Unlike the men of Kent, the Saxons were expected to serve throughout the Carolingian Empire, but the level of service was graded depending on how far away they were required to serve. Of those men eligible to serve at all,

19

Williams, ‘Ship-levies in the Viking Age’. For discussion of this in a Mercian context, see Williams, ‘Military Institutions and Royal Power’. For discussion in a broader context, see Williams, ‘Ship-levies’. 20

21 See Damian Tyler, ‘Orchestrated Violence and the “Supremacy of the Mercians”’, above, in this volume. 22 S 134. Text in BCS 848

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Gareth Williams only every sixth man was required for war on the Spanish borders or in Pannonia, every third man for war in Bohemia, with the full levy only required against the Saxons’ immediate neighbours, the Sorbs.23 There was thus a recognition of the established identity of the distinct regional identity of the Saxons within the Carolingian empire, just as Offa recognised a sense of separate Kentish identity within ‘Greater Mercia’.

dramatically with the attempts at conquest under Æthelbald. On the ground of defensive necessity, one might argue that the other kingdoms might well have developed military obligations before Mercia, for the very reason that Mercian kings had no need to defend against themselves.27 Furthermore, the presence of external threats was nothing new, in Mercia or elsewhere, and again gives no reason to attribute the introduction of military obligations to the reigns of Æthelbald and Offa, rather than to their predecessors. If, however, one does accept the link between threat and the necessity of such obligations, and if one does accept that these obligations were introduced in Mercia under Æthelbald and Offa, then it is necessary to consider that the extent of Mercian power in the eighth century may have been overstated. There can be no doubt that Æthelbald and Offa became in turn the most powerful kings in England, but that does not mean that their power went unchallenged. Although they may have dominated their neighbours, it seems likely that the Kentish people threw off Mercian overlordship after the battle of Otford in 770,28 and the inscription on the Pillar of Eliseg implies that the kingdom of Powys may have gained a similar liberty around the same time,29 while Offa’s execution of Ethelbert of East Anglia in 794 implies rebellion there.30 It is also notable that although Offa succeeded, at least to some extent, in conquering East Anglia and Kent and subjecting them to his direct rule, he did not have direct authority in either Northumbria or Wessex, but maintained peace through marriage alliances.

There can be little doubt that Mercia faced sufficient external threats to make defensive institutions worthwhile. To the west, the Welsh kingdoms posed a constant threat, and the records of both the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the Annales Cambriae indicate repeated warfare against the Welsh under Æthelbald and Offa, continued by Offa’s successors in the ninth century.24 The Welsh threat is particularly emphasised by the construction of Offa’s Dyke, whether or not one accepts Asser’s attribution of the Dyke to Offa, and whether one sees it as an intended long-term barrier, or a response to the specific threat posed by the kingdom of Powys under Eliseg in the late eighth century.25 Intermittent conflict with the other major Anglo-Saxon kingdoms suggests that these may also at times have posed threats, and it is important to note that Mercia’s central position made it especially vulnerable, since it lay open to attack from all directions, with Northumbria to the north, East Anglia to the east, Kent to the south east and Wessex to the south, in addition to the Welsh threat in the west. Of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, only Northumbria was perhaps equally vulnerable, with the Picts, the Scots and the British kingdom of Strathclyde to the north, and Mercia to the south.

With this caveat about the extent of Mercian royal power, were Æthelbald and Offa both sufficiently powerful within Mercia itself to enforce military service? There seems no reason to doubt this, not least because the documentary evidence discussed above suggests that they did so. However, it is again difficult to establish from negative evidence that their predecessors did not exercise equal authority within Mercia itself, especially Penda and Wulfhere. It is also possible that Æthelbald may have overstepped the bounds of his authority, since he was killed by his own bodyguard.31 This may have occurred for any number of unknown reasons, including a purely personal dispute. That he was ineffective in war or in government, a common reason for deposing or murdering an unpopular king, does not seem likely on the limited evidence available, since Æthelbald was apparently killed at the height of his power. However, Æthelbald’s ‘bodyguard’ were also representative of the landed aristocracy. They either held land in bookland tenure, or expected to do so as a reward for their service. They thus had a vested interest in discouraging the extension of royal authority in imposing new rights and duties on landholders. The evidence for military obligations comes largely from specific reservations in immunity clauses in grants to the Church, and it is easy to lose sight of the fact that there were other unstated royal rights from which the

The end of Offa’s reign saw an additional threat from the Vikings, and it is striking that the military obligations which Offa imposed on the people of Kent are specifically stated as being against pagan seamen.26 This last point is interesting, because no other threat at that time seems to be considered. The greatest recurrent threat which Kent had faced in the late eighth century was Offa himself, and he obviously had no interest in raising forces in Kent to counter Mercian aggression against his own expanded kingdom. Nevertheless, the limitation to service against pagan seamen suggests either that Offa felt completely secure against the possibility of any Frankish or West Saxon aggression against Kent, or that he was responding directly to a specific crisis of Viking attacks in the area. Presumably Offa’s East Anglian dominions and the coastline of Lindsey were equally vulnerable to Viking attacks in this period, although none are actually recorded. There thus seems no reason to doubt that sufficient external threats existed to make some form of defensive organisation necessary in eighth-century Mercia. However, when considering where such obligations were first introduced, it is important to note that neighbouring kingdoms faced a real threat from Mercian expansionism, first in the seventh century under Penda and Wulfhere, and even more

27

However, the apparent success of Mercian campaigning in the eighth century (if not necessarily the attempts at subjugation which followed) may suggest that such obligations did not prove particularly effective, at least in East Anglia and Kent. 28 Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, pp. 202-38, esp. p. 207. 29 Hill, ‘Offa’s Dyke, Pattern and Purpose’, pp. 202-3. 30 ASC, s.a.794. 31 Historia Regum, s.a.757, in EHD, p. 241.

23

Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Capitularia I, no. 49, c. 2, p. 136. ASC, passim; AC, passim. 25 Hill, ‘Offa’s Dyke, Pattern and Purpose’; Worthington, ‘Offa’s Dyke’, above, in this volume. 26 S 134; text in BCS 848. 24

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Military Obligations and Mercian Supremacy in the Eighth Century Church lands were immune, but from which secular estates presumably were not. The burden of royal impositions probably fell more heavily on secular landholders, and it is entirely possible that Æthelbald’s murder may reflect his followers’ dissatisfaction with excessive new demands. This situation seems comparable with the killing of Godred, king of Denmark, by his own followers in 810, shortly after he had ordered the construction (or renovation) of an earthwork across Jutland and divided the responsibility for this amongst his followers;32 or with another Danish king, St. Cnut, who was also murdered by his followers in circumstances connected with the introduction of some sort of royal due, which Niels Lund has interpreted as a Danish equivalent of the Anglo-Saxon fyrdwite, the fine for not performing military service which was due.33

military supremacy as much for granted as some later historians have done. This defensive stance, coupled with the possibility that other kingdoms may have developed just as early as Mercia, prompts us to consider whether previous studies may have considerably overstated the extent of Mercian supremacy in the eighth century.

The precise extent of royal authority within Mercia under Offa is not much clearer, but we do have an indication of a new statement of royal power in Offa’s extensive coinage. Offa’s reign saw the introduction of explicitly regal coinage, following the example of the coinage reforms of the Carolingian dynasty when they took control of the kingdom of the Franks. This was by no means unique to Offa, since regal coinage also appeared in East Anglia, Northumbria and Kent in the same period, and Offa was probably not the first Anglo-Saxon king to introduce coinage of this sort.34 Nevertheless, regal coinage was a clear symbol of royal power, and the scale of Offa’s coinage was unprecedented in Anglo-Saxon England. Offa’s ability to raise armies to conquer East Anglia and Kent also suggests power and authority, and the famous Charlemagne letters also create a picture of a ruler who was confident of his power, at least within his own kingdom. It seems likely that Offa’s authority within Mercia exceeded that of his predecessors, and there is little doubt that he had the power to enforce military obligations due from his landholders. However, once again, this condition may well have been met by Mercian kings long before the reign of Æthelbald or Offa. To conclude, the appearance in the written record of specific military obligations linked to ‘bookland’ tenure seems to originate in the kingdom of Mercia during the reigns of Æthelbald and Offa. This cannot be stated with certainty, partly because of the limited evidence, but also partly because the pre-conditions for the development of such obligations seem to some extent to be met in Mercia before the reign of Æthelbald; and met also in other areas as well as in Mercia, especially in Northumbria, in the mid to late eighth century, if not before. Nevertheless, a development in the charters is apparent in Mercia in this period, and this seems to be specifically linked to the development of defensive measures, which find at least limited confirmation in the archaeological record. This development of defensive systems arises from the necessity of defending the expanded Mercian state, coupled with the consolidation of royal authority within that expanded state under Æthelbald and Offa. While the pre-eminence of the two Mercian kings is unquestionable, the fact that they felt the need to develop defensive institutions suggests that they did not take their 32

Annales Regni Francorum, s.a.810, p. 131; Williams, ‘Ship-levies’. Lund, ‘Cnut’s Danish Kingdom’, p. 33 and n. 29; Williams, ‘Ship-levies’. 34 See note 14 above. 33

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Abbreviations

Smyth, A.P., King Alfred the Great (Oxford, 1995).

AC Annales Cambriae in Morris, J., ed. and trs., Nennius: British History and the Welsh Annals (Chichester, 1980).

Stenton, F.M., Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 3rd edn, 1971). Tangl, M., ed., Die Briefe des Heiligen Bonifatius und Lullus, Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Epistolae Selectae I (Berlin, 1916), 2nd ed. (Berlin, 1955).

ASC The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, trs. in English Historical Documents I (see entry below), pp. 135-235.

Williams, G., ‘Military Institutions and Royal Power’ in Mercia: An Anglo-Saxon Kingdom in Europe, ed. M.P. Brown and C.A. Farr (London and New York, 2001), pp. 295-309.

BCS Birch, W. de Gray, Cartularium Saxonicum, 3 vols (London 1885-93). EHD English Historical Documents I c.500-1042, ed., D. Whitelock (London, 1955).

Williams, G., ‘Ship-levies in the Viking age: the methodology of studying military institutions in a semihistorical society’, in Maritime Warfare in Northern Europe: Technology, Organisation, Logistics and Administration, 500 BC – 1500 AD, ed. A. Nørgård Jørgensen, J. Pind, L. Jørgensen and B. Clausen (Copenhagen, 2002), pp. 293-308.

S Anglo-Saxon Charters: An Annotated List and Bibliography, ed., P.H. Sawyer (London, 1968).

Bibliography Abels, R., Lordship and Military Obligation in Anglo-Saxon England (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1988). Anderson, H.H., Danevirke og Kovirke: Arkæologiske undersøgelser 1861-1993 (Aarhus, 1998). Annales Regni Francorum, ed., G. Pertz (Hannover 1895). Blair, J., The Church in Anglo-Saxon Society (Oxford, forthcoming). Brooks, N., ‘The Development of Military Obligations in Eighth- and Ninth-century England’, England Before the Conquest, ed. P. Clemoes and K. Hughes (Cambridge, 1971), pp.69-84. Colgrave, B., ed., Felix’s Life of Guthlac (Cambridge, 1956). Haslam, J., Early Medieval Towns (Aylesbury, 1985). Hill, D.H., ‘Offa’s Dyke, Pattern and Purpose’, The Antiquaries’ Journal, Vol.80 (2000), pp. 195-206. Hill, D.H. and M. Worthington, Offa’s Dyke (Stroud, 2003). John, E., Land Tenure in Early England (Leicester, 1964). John, E., Orbis Britanniae (Leicester, 1966). Jones, A.H.M., The Later Roman Empire (Oxford, 1964). Lund, N., ‘Cnut’s Danish Kingdom’ in The Reign of Cnut: King of England, Denmark and Norway, ed. A.R. Rumble (Leicester and Cranbury, NJ, 1994), pp. 27-42. Reuter, T., ‘Plunder and Tribute in the Carolingian Empire’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 5th series, 35 (1985), pp. 75-94.

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The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries Derek Chick There are today more than six hundred surviving broad pennies struck in southern England between Offa’s accession in 757 and his death in 796. By far the majority of them were struck in the name of Offa, or under his authority in the name of his wife, Cynethryth, and jointly with the two Canterbury Archbishops, Jaenberht and Æthelheard, and the Bishop of London, Eadberht. A small number also exist which were struck by two minor kings of Kent, Heahberht and Ecgberht II, and by the East Anglian king, Æthelberht, who was put to death by Offa in 794.

finds are associated with previously unsuspected productive sites with recovered material covering extended periods and including a wide range of other artefacts, suggesting that some of them at least may have been busy and regularly used market sites. The density and location of provenanced finds confirm a south-eastern bias of coin use: in other words, looking towards the coin-using continent and with more activity around the coastal wics. Very noticeable is the paucity in the Mercian heartlands and the exclusion from north of the Humber. It also points up the relative scarcity in Wessex, with the notable exception of coastal penetration into Dorset and Hampshire. Coinage circulated widely in an area roughly east of a line drawn from the Humber to Dorset and apparently taking advantage of navigable river systems, old established trackways and coastal routes. Its distribution pattern and the volume of finds make it difficult to sustain a claim that the coinage of this period may have predominantly served an aristocratic élite and fulfilled only a limited use. It was certainly royal and struck by appointed moneyers who no doubt derived profits from it whilst at the same time contributing to the royal treasury. With its south-eastern distribution, substantially generated by its continental trading connections, the relative absence of coin finds in the heartlands of Mercia need be of little surprise, and it is extremely unlikely that any coins were struck in that region. During Offa’s reign Mercian rule dominated the coin-using areas of Southumbrian England. The minting structure of the earlier eighth-century sceatta coinage was almost certainly much more diverse but it seems likely that as few as three mints may have served for Offa’s coinage; these were probably groups of secure workshops accommodating all the processes of coin production under the control of moneyers – themselves answerable to royal authority.

Offa’s coinage has, of course, quite rightly received much attention and admiration. Artistically it stands at the high point between the ancient world and the coinage and medallic art of the renaissance. Irrespective of the sources of its inspiration, it always conveyed in interpretation the spirit of its own time and in some ways was presaged by some of the finer examples in the secondary sceatta coinage of the earlier eighth century. Technically and administratively it was a remarkable achievement. Die studies indicate an issue which ran into millions of coins and which was struck by more than thirty moneyers whose names are preserved on the coins themselves. It comes then as rather a disappointment to realise that Offa does not enjoy universal credit for having introduced the broad penny, that its status and even the location of its minting places are still questioned, and that many of the coins cannot be precisely dated with assurance. No corpus of Offa’s coins or comprehensive listing of known find-spot provenances has yet been published, but we can compare the present total with the numbers of extant coins that were known thirty or more years ago. In his masterly survey of Offa’s coinage in 1961, the late Christopher Blunt was able to list about two hundred and seventy coins known to him at that time and recorded in his extensive AngloSaxon card index.1 The almost exclusive reasons for the more than doubling of known coins at the present time has been the activity of metal detector users. Crucially, this wealth of new material differs from the older finds in that the majority of the new finds that have accumulated in more recent years have reliably recorded provenances. The metaldetecting hobby has attracted much criticism and little enthusiasm since the first machines became widely available in the early 1970s but it would be fair to say that the majority of these metal-detector enthusiasts do operate within the law and are often very willing to provide information about their finds. Most important and very relevant for this study of Offa’s coins, the majority of their discoveries come from ploughed farmland with no suspected archaeological context and would very likely never have come to light in any other circumstances. Such a wealth of securely provenanced new material is of significant importance. Many of these new

London, with its important trading connections and well established coining tradition, was almost certainly the site of one such minting centre. Similarly, Canterbury in Kent was most likely to have been where Offa’s Kentish coinage was produced. As with London, it had a well-established coining tradition and geographically was ideally situated with its proximity to the continent. At least one more, as yet unidentified, mint in East Anglia must also have existed. The identification of individual coins and moneyers to particular mints is now becoming much more secure. The coins struck by the East Anglian moneyers have a distinct idiosyncratic appearance that always identifies their origins. London and Canterbury coins can usually be grouped together stylistically, with the products of more uncertain moneyers linked to their mints by reference to comparison with securely located examples. The following maps illustrate how the steady accumulation of reliably reported single finds are facilitating the study of the circulation and the distribution characteristics of Offa’s coins as well as providing evidence of geographical minting

1

Blunt, C., ‘The Coinage of Offa’, in R.H.M. Dolley, ed., Anglo-Saxon Coins (London, 1961), pp. 39-62.

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The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries patterns. The maps in Figure 1 and Figure 2 compare the volume of single finds known at the time of Blunt’s paper in 1961 (about sixty) with the situation as it stands today, taking into account all new finds reported up to the end of 1999 – a total now in excess of two hundred and sixty. The circles represent accumulations of single finds that represent separate losses, usually on single productive sites.

Offa’s coins appearing later; he cited Sir Frank Stenton’s suggestion that the battle of Otford may not have been a complete Mercian victory and that Offa cannot be shown to have possessed any authority in Kent for the following ten years after 776. However the new evidence not available to Blunt suggests that it was Offa himself who introduced this new coin – though that likelihood can be deduced even without recourse to the new material. Heahberht’s unique coin, struck by the moneyer Eoba, found in Italy and now in the British Museum, appears stylistically the earliest of the group. Eoba’s coins of all three issues have for their reverse type a large annulet cross already familiar from certain coins in the later sceatta series. On Heahberht’s coin this device seems less developed than in its appearance on the coins of Ecgberht and Offa, but the most striking difference between these coins is their form of obverse inscription. The names of Heahberht and Ecgberht are displayed clearly in full in a circular form around the coin with a monogram for rex – R with x on downstroke –in the centre. Offa’s name and royal title, on the other hand, are abbreviated to O F R M (for Offa Rex Merciorum with the R of rex of monogram form) displayed in two lines across the field and apparently influenced by contemporary Frankish models. This contrasts with Heahberht and Ecgberht’s coins, which appear to have been more inspired by the inscriptions of East Anglian coins of Beonna or the Northumbrian coinage. The abbreviated inscriptions of the Offa coins seem rather unlikely if indeed it was the issues of Heahbertht and Ecgberht that provided the primary inspiration for them. Indeed a recent unique discovery now establishes that even the Kentish Archbishop Jaenberht participated in the issue of Ecgberht II, striking coins in his own name, without reference to any overlord and again employing a circular inscription to display his name in full. It seems more likely that either Offa’s coins were earlier or that their obverse inscriptions were perhaps continuing an older, established convention. An important East Anglian type (unknown to Blunt in 1961) provides a clue to this possible established convention: struck by Offa, the inscription is again abbreviated to O F R M on the obverse. The moneyer, Wilred, is almost certainly the same individual who produced coins for Beonna. Only two examples of this rare issue are known, the more recent of the two being found in Essex during the 1980’s.3

Figure 3 illustrates the density of all single finds. The method of calculation involves counting the total number of coins found within a circle of 25 km radius from the position of each find spot (i.e. placing that spot at the centre of the circle).2 The same method is applied to the following three maps, which compare the distribution patterns for coins likely to have been struck at London (Figure 4), Canterbury (Figure 5) and East Anglia (Figure 6), and are derived from single finds information. The contour maps are generated by comparing the number of coins from any one mint within the circle as compared with all others, and expressing that number as a percentage at the point of each find spot. The patterns for London and Canterbury are not too dissimilar but the concentrations for London are stronger in the London and Thames estuary areas and extend northwards into the east midlands, with possibly more coastal trading activity in the Sussex region. By contrast the Canterbury distribution appears stronger moving north-eastwards and into the East Anglian heartland. Figure 6, the East Anglian coins, is the most instructive. It seems to illustrate clearly the relative lack of penetration of these coins into other areas and points to the possibility that the source of their production might be sought rather further north than generally suspected. The broad penny coinage of southern England emerged during the second half of the eighth century. Its inspiration was the Frankish reformed denier – the novus denarius of Pepin the Short introduced in 755. This new broad penny differed from its predecessors both in its larger size, which allowed more scope for the engravers’ skills when cutting the larger dies, as well as in its manufacture. This involved preparing blanks cut out of sheets of silver which were hammered to the correct thickness. However there is still uncertainty regarding its precise origins and introduction. By the time that Offa had become king of Mercia, the secondary phase of the earlier sceatta coinage had probably diminished in southern England whilst a silver coinage of similar module was continuing to be struck by the kings of Northumbria, who shared with mint with the Archbishops of York. In addition, the reformed East Anglian coinage of the middle years of the eighth century, struck principally by Beonna, may well have been fully established. Confusingly, what appear to be amongst the earliest examples of this new broad penny coinage were struck in the names of three different kings, often employing common design elements and struck by the same moneyers. Apart from Offa, Heahberht and Ecgberht II of Kent, minor kings who were ruling during the period in which Offa was extending his authority in Kent, also struck them. On balance Blunt, in 1962, favoured the introduction of the broad penny by the kings of Kent, with

The name of the moneyer Wilred identifies these coins as East Anglian and suggests an early date, probably prior to 770. This is certainly early enough to have provided a model for Offa’s later O F R M coins, but there must be some doubt as to whether the newly-conquered East Anglia would have been a likely place for Offa to inaugurate a new coinage. Evidence that Wilred’s coins do in fact post-date an even earlier issue for Offa comes from two recent finds, both in fragmentary state, recovered from a productive site on the Thames estuary at East Tilbury in Essex. Both coins are small: the larger fragment represents a coin about the size of Beonna’s interlace type, and the smaller piece is closer to the size of Efe’s coins. The weight for both coins was probably

2

3

This method was suggested by Professor Metcalf: see D.M. Metcalf, An Atlas of Anglo-Saxon and Norman Coin Finds 973-1086.

See M.M. Archibald, ‘Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context’ (below, in this volume), n. 10.

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Figure 1: SINGLE FINDS KNOWN AT THE TIME OF C. BLUNT’S PAPER, ‘THE COINAGE OF OFFA’, IN 1961. The relative size of the circles represents the accumulated finds from 1 to 7.

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Figure 2: SINGLE FINDS KNOWN AT END 1999. The relative size of the circles represents the accumulated finds from 1 to 8.

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Figure 3: DENSITY OF ALL SINGLE FINDS

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The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries

Figure 4: DISTRIBUTION PATTERNS – COINS STRUCK AT LONDON

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Figure 5: DISTRIBUTION PATTERNS – COINS STRUCK AT CANTERBURY

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The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries

Figure 6: DISTRIBUTION PATTERNS – COINS STRUCK IN EAST ANGLIA

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Derek Chick late as possible might be safest – but probably before Otford. His coins may have been an opportunistic issue quickly suppressed by Offa. Ecgberht’s coinage appears to have been very much more substantial and employed three moneyers, Eoba, Babba and Udd. His surviving coins are struck from a relatively high number of dies and it is possible that a favourable outcome at Otford provided him with an opportunity to issue these coins. They are likely to have enjoyed only a relatively limited circulation in south-east England, with new discoveries from Chartham near Canterbury, Shoreham (also in Kent), Ripley in Surrey and Ongar in Essex adding to the two previously recorded specimens from London. There is also evidence that Ecgberht’s coins reached Rome and examples were also present in the 1906 Ilanz hoard from Switzerland, and more recently in what appears to be a small hoard from near Bedale in North Yorkshire (also the source for the unique new coin of Archbishop Jaenberht). If the documentary evidence is correct in assuming that Ecgberht did not survive beyond 779-780 then it is likely that at least the later stages of his coinage overlap the early stages of Offa’s new and impressive portrait and related coinage, which superseded the early issues of Mang and almost certainly commenced at London. Eoba’s earliest Canterbury contribution to this Mercian coinage is his annulet cross issue which is stylistically very close to his coins for Ecgberht and seems to follow it closely. However, yet another recent discovery from near Wimborne St Giles, Dorset, may be earlier. This coin of Eoba is essentially of the same annulet cross type but rather different in appearance – a stylistic difference which seems to place it closer to the coins of Ecgberht and in particular Heahberht. Chronologically it appears to be not only the earliest of Eoba’s annulet cross coins for Offa but also possibly earlier than Ecgberht’s coins. The implication of this might mean that Eoba’s Canterbury coinage for Offa had been established prior to c. 776 – interrupted by Ecgberht’s coinage and then resumed.

in the range 18 to 20 grains and apparently of good silver, though the metal has not been analysed. They are almost certainly the earliest surviving examples of Offa’s broad penny coinage and likely to have been struck at London. Since the early 1980s more than one hundred coins have been retrieved from the East Tilbury site, principally secondary sceattas, and the issues are dominated by London coins. Because of their fragmentary state the moneyer’s name was uncertain, though both coins, on the basis of surviving letters, were struck by the same individual. This can now be confirmed as Mang, due to the discovery, even more recently, of a complete example. This coin, found near Market Deeping, Lincolnshire, has close stylistic affinities with Eoba’s annulet cross coins for Offa and is likely to be significantly later in date than the East Tilbury coins. Indeed it may represent a phase of Mang’s coinage that actually influenced the Eoba coins just as his earliest coins, represented by the East Tilbury fragments, probably inspired the East Anglian Wilred’s. Of particular significance is the likelihood that these coins of Mang established the convention for displaying Offa’s name and title in abbreviated form as O F R M. If this was indeed so, then it might explain the seemingly strange decision (on some of Offa’s earliest and most splendid portrait coins) to place the moneyer’s name on the obverse with the portraits, so relegating Offa’s abbreviated name and title to the reverse in its conventional two line quartered form. What then can we conclude with regard to the likely dating sequences of these early phases and to the later light coinage chronology? One of the problems of early dating of what we might call the substantive light coinage is that several of the participating moneyers, for example Eoba, Babba, Ciolhard, Winoth, Ibba and the East Anglian moneyers, Wihtred, Lul and Botred, are still active as late as 800. However, this new chronology allows for an early commencement to the coinage without the need to associate these substantive light coinage moneyers with it. The status of moneyers during this period is not accurately known. They are unlikely to have been mere operatives and may have enjoyed a relatively high status. Some indeed may be identified with individuals of the same name who appear in witness lists of contemporary charters. Some of them at least also seem to have enjoyed a degree of political immunity. For example the moneyer Babba, whose earliest coins were struck for Ecgberht II at Canterbury, subsequently worked for Offa then struck coins for Eadberht Praen during the Kentish revolt of 796-798, and finally participated in Coenwulf’s coinage after the restoration of Mercian rule in Kent. This was not an unusual occurrence and new finds have added significantly to the numbers of such moneyers.

Offa’s new light coinage then is likely to have commenced by the late 770s. Its impressive volume suggests the possibility that Offa was taking advantage of favourable economic conditions which provided the means for it, and possibly for Ecgberht’s not insignificant issue. Blunt favoured a date of c.787 for the introduction of Offa’s prestigious portrait coins, citing his successful negotiations regarding the establishment of a Mercian see at Lichfield (following the legatine mission of 786) and the consecration of his son Ecgfrith. He considered it a significant year in Offa’s life for the introduction of this coinage. One objection to such a late date is the problem of Ecgberht’s coinage. Because of the very close similarity between his coins and the annulet cross issue struck by Eoba for Offa it is difficult (though admittedly not impossible) to accept a gap of seven or eight years between them – unless Ecgberht and his rule in Kent survived longer than the documentary evidence suggests.

Offa’s coinage overall was considerable and needs to be placed chronologically within a long reign of nearly forty years. This presents problems because it is difficult to tie, convincingly, historical facts and documentary evidence to particular phases or issues in Offa’s coinage. His earliest coinage was almost certainly struck at London and the coins of Mang appear to be the surviving evidence of it, possibly struck as early as 760 – 765. At Canterbury the surviving evidence is that Heahberht’s brief issue represents the first broad pennies to be struck there. Because his moneyer, Eoba, was still active as late as c. 800, a date for the issue as

Certain stylistic elements bind together what must have been the constituent issues and participating moneyers of this substantive light coinage. Quite apart from the quality of the workmanship there is a consistent use of a minuscule or lower case ‘a’ and of course the abbreviated O F R M inscription. Reassuringly, types displaying these and other 119

The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries apparently ‘early’ features and struck by the same cohesive group of moneyers are, so far, exclusively occurring in the newly discovered North Yorkshire hoard and may be implying an early deposit date. A single metal-detector user has gradually, over a period of several years, been finding coins in ones and twos on a single ploughed field site and to date the accumulation contains no heavy coins or light coins which might reasonably be considered late. This hoard has yielded two examples of non-portrait type by the London moneyer Ealhmund that might well add weight to the proposal for an early introduction of this substantive light coinage, no later than c. 780. Coins of this type (Blunt 40) have the abbreviated O F R M obverse inscription with, in this case, the letters arranged in the angles of an ornate lozenge cross. However, on some of the coins of this type the inscription is ‘O F R A’. Opinion is divided as to whether this can be interpreted as OFFA REX ANGLORUM or merely OF[F]A R [EX]. The O F R M inscription is always consistent and always intended to be read in two lines (OF/RM). The letters are always upright and accompanied by contraction bars – often above or below the O, usually above or below the F, often above the M and with the R of RX monogram form. On Ealhmund’s ‘Blunt 40’ coins the letters of the inscription are tilted so as to conform to the appearance of a circular inscription. The O and F are outwards but the R and A point inwards, so clearly indicating the intention – OFFA REX ANGLORUM. No less than six such obverse dies are now known in this issue and so engraving errors can be discounted and if the intention had been O F [F] A R [EX] the two lower letters would have been transposed. Ealhmund’s ‘Blunt 40’ type is certainly amongst Offa’s early substantive light coinage London coins and the title ‘Rex Anglorum’ would seem to be much more likely on coins which were struck no later than the very early 780s.4 This O F R A inscription is now known on a recently discovered coin of Bishop Eadberht. Stylistically Eadberht’s coins are firmly associated with the early substantive phase, as indeed are those struck in the name of Offa’s wife, Cynethryth. On the other hand there is no strong stylistic evidence that Archbishop Jaenberht’s joint issue with Offa is particularly early, and considering the enmity between them, his coinage may have owed its existence to earlier coining rights. Jaenberht’s coins may be contemporary with rather later stages of this substantive light coinage – coins that either suggest a stylistic evolvement or, for the most part, share little or no connecting features with the earlier types. On the evidence of die studies the primary phase seems to have been struck quite intensively over what may have been a relatively short period. Quite possibly the later stages may have been struck more erratically and with not all participating moneyers regularly active, though the lack of sufficient dies militates against an assured judgement.

interpretation of these problems. In some cases even short die chains are now able to be constructed – a remarkable circumstance for such a rare coinage. The problem of accurate dating and arrangement of Offa’s coinage is almost exclusively confined to the light issue. The heavy issue is much more certain. It extends over a far shorter period with its date of commencement at c. 793. This dating rests conveniently on the coins of the two Canterbury archbishops, Jaenberht and Æethelheard. Jaenberht, who died in 792, is not known to have struck any heavy coins whilst his successor Æthelheard appears not to have participated in the light coinage. Additionally this date reflects a similar increase in weight and module in the Frankish coinage during the first half of the 790’s. New finds also help to establish that the light coinage, or at least elements of it, was being struck as late as 792/3. This eliminates the possibility that the light coinage terminated at an earlier date leaving a period devoid of coins before the introduction of the heavy issue. For example, a new type for the London moneyer Winoth, from Harlow in Essex, is clearly transitional and anticipates the standard three-line obverses of the heavy coins but has a reverse die used in the light coinage. Its weight conforms to the heavy issue. Another example is an unrecorded portrait type, probably of the Canterbury moneyer Tirwald, which shares a reverse type with certain coins of Archbishop Æthelheard. Offa’s heavy coins are significantly heavier than their predecessors and noticeably larger, with undamaged and uncorroded specimens often weighing between 20 and 22 grains. Visually these heavy coins were unexciting; reform in the early 790s swept away the spectacular light coinage and replaced it with something altogether more utilitarian, aniconic and more closely harmonizing with the Frankish coinage across the Channel. No area of Offa’s coinage has benefited from the wealth of recent finds more than its East Anglian element, and a number of remarkable discoveries have revised the perspective of its stature. Blunt was able to note only thirteen coins representing both light and heavy issues so that, until relatively recently, it appeared to be a very minor contributor to the coinage. Today the number of known coins stands at forty-six, many representing types that were previously unknown and unsuspected. The evidence seems to be that many of the East Anglian coins were stylistically influenced by the design of London and Canterbury coins but that the interpretation of those designs transformed them into a very distinct and idiosyncratic local series. One area where these East Anglian coins differ noticeably from their London and Canterbury counterparts is in the sustained use of runic lettering in the inscriptions. Runic letters are extremely rare on London and Canterbury coins but their adoption for the East Anglian series continues a strong tradition witnessed on earlier coins, notably the coinage of Beonna. But on Offa’s coins and for all subsequent issues these runic letters and inscriptions are consistently confined to the reverses (in other words, the moneyers’ names). Sometimes these inscriptions are mixed, though often of completely runic form, and frequently accompanied by highly imaginative and innovative designs that seem to owe nothing to

It is possible to discern a deterioration in the quality of some issues – both early and late, which may well have a chronological significance. But there are also instances where inferior workmanship is more likely to identify the insufficiency of better dies, possibly during periods of intense activity. In either case the accumulation of recent new finds is again proving of considerable value in the 4

Possibly corroborating the validity of Offa’s ‘Rex Anglorum’ title on rather less than secure documentary evidence from the 770s.

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Derek Chick London/Canterbury inspiration – but this presumption must be tempered with caution. Two very recent discoveries illustrate the point well. The first example, and one of the most remarkable of Offa’s coins to come to light, was found in the village of Akenham near Ipswich in the spring of 1996. Although the obverse portrait die is a fairly conventional East Anglian copy of the better London/Canterbury examples, the reverse is spectacular and at first sight of purely East Anglian-inspired workmanship. The moneyer’s name, Lul, is rendered in full runic form and ingeniously enclosed by two tail swallowing creatures with two further fantastic, eel-like creatures ‘swimming’ in the field, above and below. However, only six months later a similar piece with an identical reverse type was unearthed at a metaldetecting rally near Dover in Kent. But this second coin was not struck by Lul, nor was it of East Anglian origin, but was a London coin of the moneyer Dud. The portrait die of Dud’s coin is superior in style to that of the Lul coin and is of the finest London/Canterbury quality. This suggests an earlier date for the Dud coin. The reverses of the two coins, although so similar, are clearly the work of different hands. On Dud’s coin the eel-like creatures are particularly finely engraved. Their bodies are encircled by rows of tiny pellets and there is the suggestion of beaded hooks projecting from their mouths. It appears that once again the East Anglian version is imitating rather than initiating this exceptional design. These recent and predominantly metal-detector finds are then of demonstrably significant importance to the present state of understanding of this coinage. The year 1999 was a particularly unproductive one for Offa coin finds, with fewer reported examples than for several years. However there will, undoubtedly, be further discoveries and this remarkable coinage is unlikely to have yet exhausted its capacity to surprise. Much work still lies ahead to appreciate fully the complexities, but hopefully this has been a reasonably convincing demonstration of just how crucial these new discoveries are to that more complete understanding.

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The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries

Bibliography Blunt, C., ‘The Coinage of Offa’, in R.H.M. Dolley, ed., Anglo-Saxon Coins (London, 1961), pp. 39-62. Metcalf, D.M., An Atlas of Anglo-Saxon and Norman Coin Finds 973-1086, Royal Numismatic Society Special Publication No. 32 (London, 1998).

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Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context Marion M. Archibald not far from Sutton Hoo, where the finds include the only known coin of Alberht.4

The written sources The existence of mid-eighth century rulers in East Anglia named Beonna and Alberht rests, as far as the written sources are concerned, on rather weak evidence. Neither appears in any contemporary document or in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, even in the East Anglian recession, which had access to additional local information. The earliest references to Beonna (variously spelt) are in a number of post-Conquest chronicles, only one of which mentions Alberht. This northern Historia Regum survives in a unique twelfth-century manuscript but its first section has been recognised as the work of Byrhtferth of Ramsey who died in the early eleventh century. Under the year 749 it records that ‘Aelfwald king of the East Angles died; Hunbeanna and Alberht divided the kingdom between them’. Whitelock, influenced by the references to Beonna elsewhere and the existence of a few coins in his name, divided ‘Hunbeanna’, a form unacceptable as it stands, into two personal names, Hun and Beanna.1 The Worcester chronicle, also compiled in the twelfth century, adds to the annal for 758 the names of three kings, ‘in these times’ ruling south-eastern English peoples, including ‘Beorna’ of the East Angles.2 Taken at face value, the omission of Hun and Alberht implies that within less than a decade of their accession they had both ceased to reign, leaving Beonna as sole king in East Anglia.

Beonna’s coins are pennies of small, thick fabric made of base-silver, and about twelve to fifteen millimetres in diameter (Plate 1, 4-13). They are a reformed coinage produced late in the series of early Anglo-Saxon pennies known as sceattas. The inscriptions on the obverses are in all-runic letters (Plate 1, 9-13), all-Roman capitals (Plate 1, 8) or a combination of the two (Plate 1, 4-7). The letters of both alphabets are almost always well-formed and their interpretation is unambiguous. The king’s name appears as either Beonna (Plate 1, 4, 6-8 and 12) or Benna (Plate 1, 5, 9-11 and 13) but never in any form with an R. It is followed by ‘rex’, sometimes in a pronunciation form ‘ress’ (Plate 1, 4 and 5), or by a previously unknown runic symbol which Page has suggested is a bind-rune for ‘rex’ (Plate 1, 9-11 and 13).5 The contemporaneity of ‘rex’ and this symbol is shown by obverses using them sharing the same reverse die (Plate 1, 12 and 13). Coins of the moneyers Werferth and Efe There are three distinct groups within Beonna’s coinage, distinguished by a combination of typological, orthographic, technical and metrological factors. The first comprises the coins of the moneyers, Werferth (Wærferth) and Efe. The three known coins of Werferth are all struck from the same pair of dies with mixed Roman and runic letters on the obverse reading BEOnnaREss (the first ‘s’ retrograde) and an all-runic reverse ‘þ+ we rf er’ (Plate 1, 4). The reverse type shows the letters of the moneyer’s name (preceded by the usual initial cross) divided by the arms of a cross with a lozenge centre, itself containing a cross, recalling the pendant jewels and standing stone crosses of the time. This design shows a typological devolution from earlier East Anglian coins showing a standard (Plate 1, 1), through the immediately preceding non-regal coins with a moneyer’s name Wigræd or Tilberht, often blundered (Plate 1, 2 and 3 respectively), and continues, slightly modified, on the coins by Efe (Plate 1, 5-8).6 This places the coins of Werferth typologically at the head of Beonna’s coinage. Pellets are added around the reverse cross and among the letters of the

The coins of Beonna, and now one attributable to Alberht, are no longer simply the means of establishing the historicity of late written sources, crucial though that is. The object of this paper is to outline the wealth of the coin-evidence now available and to draw attention to its potential as a source for contemporary history, not only for a shadowy period in East Anglia but for the transition of power in Mercia between Æthelbald and Offa. The coinage From the three coins of Beonna recognised before the late 1960s, the total has now risen to one hundred and eleven. The principal source of the new material is the hoard found at Middle Harling in southwest Norfolk between 1980 and 1983, which contained fifty-one Beonnas, a small number of earlier coins and two blanks.3 The rest of the forty-nine provenanced coins are isolated losses found by metal detectorists or in excavations. The major source among the latter is the high-status site at Burrow Hill, Suffolk, situated

4

Fenwick, ‘Insula de Burgh: excavations at Burrow Hill, Butley, Suffolk, 1978-81’, pp. 35-54; Archibald and Fenwick, with Cowell, ‘A sceat of Ethelbert I of East Anglia and recent finds of coins of Beonna’, pp. 1-31. 5 Page, ‘Appendix 2. The legends on the coins’ pp. 37-40. All comments here on the runic inscriptions on the coins of Beonna refer to this paper by Professor Page. Following Professor Page’s notation, all-runic inscriptions are shown in lower case letters with inverted commas; inscriptions with mixed Roman and runic letters also use lower case letters for the runes but without the inverted commas. 6 The Beonna reverses are shown as crosses on Plate 1 although the strength of numismatic convention to illustrate coins with the initial cross at the top, combined with the design’s origin in the non-cruciform standard type, has usually seen the reverse turned through forty-five degrees so that the lozenge centre becomes a square and the crosses, saltires. In fact, the transformation into a cross had already begun with lines extended diagonally from the corners of the central square on some standard type dies (Plate 1, 2). The usual orientation has also obscured the continuity of the design into the coinage of Offa.

1

EHD, p. 240. JW Chron. pp. 200-1. 3 Rogerson, A late Neolithic, Saxon and Medieval Site at Middle Harling, Norfolk; Archibald, ‘The coinage of Beonna in the light of the Middle Harling Hoard’, pp. 10-53. See also Pagan, ‘A new type for Beonna’, pp. 10-15; Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas in the Ashmolean Museum Oxford, pp. 601-7 and 617-20. The present paper is based, with some additions and modifications, on the writer’s contributions to the 1985 and 1995 articles in BNJ to which reference should be made passim for further information on the numismatic detail, the provenances of finds, and the discussion of the context. Specific points are only occasionally footnoted here. Some coins were found at Middle Harling too far from the nucleus of the hoard to have been certainly part of it. 2

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Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context twenty-three are known. This is a more homogeneous group with consistent forms of obverse and reverse legends both in all-runic letters. The inscription surrounds a simple cross or pellet motif and on both sides it invariably starts with a cross and has a second cross diametrically opposite dividing the legend into two equal parts of three letters, obverse: ‘+ben+na▼’ and reverse: ‘+wil+red’. Perhaps it was the desire for this symmetry which accounts for the for the use of the unprecedented symbol after the king’s name; this is probably a bind-rune for rex, although the Benna form of the king’s name without an O is also found on the Efe coins where there was no design requirement for it (Plate 1, 5). There are no pellets around the initial cross or letters as found on the Werferth and Efe dies. Each die with the moneyer’s name is paired with up to five dies with the king’s name showing that, in this case (and contrary to the Efe series), it was the die with the moneyer’s name which occupied the lower position during the striking process. The earliest coins are on very small flans with particularly neat runes (Plate 1, 9), but this soon changes to wider flans with larger, more sprawling letters (Plate 1, 10-11). Several coins have a retrograde inscription on obverse or reverse, something which is never found on the coins of Efe. One retrograde reverse additionally blunders both the letter-order and the placing of the intermediate cross, reading ‘+wlir+ed’ (Plate 1, 10). The average silver content of the reverse-die groups range from 47% to 24% silver. The groups are much smaller here than among the Efes, with a maximum of four coins, so the precise figures are less reliable but the trend is clear. It would appear that the Wilreds began trying, but failing to achieve, a 50% silver standard and fell, possibly through an intermediate stage, until a standard of one part silver to three parts alloy was being aimed at, i.e. 25% fine. This decline in execution, literacy and silver content is reminiscent of the pre-regal Series R coinage of East Anglia and is a sign of sharp decline in silver stocks and a slackening of control. The metrology places the Wilreds after the Efes, but the other differences outlined above make it almost impossible to place them as successors at the same mint. Their find-spot distribution patterns, to be discussed below, confirm the argument for different minting places.

inscription, a feature also found on Efe coins, where it was apparently used to identify different reverse dies used with each obverse. This suggests that more reverse dies of Werferth were originally envisaged for use with this obverse die.7 The silver of the Werferths averages about 71% fine (two coins analysed), possibly indicating a standard aiming at three parts silver to one part alloy, i.e. 75% fine.8 The silver content of Werferths is significantly higher than all Beonna’s other issues and confirms the typological evidence that they are his earliest coins extant. The coins of the moneyer Efe, of which seventy-eight are now known, are the most plentiful of Beonna’s issues (Plate 1, 5-8). They have a similar, but slightly simplified, reverse design to the Werferths, and are soon struck on slightly wider flans, usually an indication of later date. They have a lower silver content with averages of groups sharing an obverse die ranging from 56% (three coins analysed) to 49% silver (thirteen coins analysed). Cowell concluded that these differences were not deliberate and ‘that there is no evidence of multiple standards for the Efe coins’. He suggested that the standard being aimed at was probably one part silver to one part alloy, i.e. 50% fine. That the Efe coins were the successors of the Werferths is clear. The obverse inscriptions on Efe’s coins are usually in mixed runic and Roman letters, most commonly BEOnnaREX (Plate 1, 6-7), although one early die has BEnnaREss (Plate 1, 5). One die has all-Roman letters BEONNAREX (Ns retrograde) (Plate 1, 8). The letters on the reverses are usually all-Roman E F E although a runic ‘f’ is sometimes used (Plate 1, 5 and 8). The number and positions of the pellets on the reverse are systematic and were apparently intended to identify individual reverse dies used with particular obverses. Obverse dies are paired with up to eleven different reverses, a high ratio usually associated with intensive production. As upper dies wore out more quickly, this also shows that it was the die with the king’s name that occupied the lower position during the striking process. In only one case is there evidence of a reverse die being used with two obverses. These patterns suggest strict control over the minting process and considerable sophistication of administration and record keeping. The internal chronology of the Efe coins is difficult to establish with any degree of certainty. The single die reading REss marks continuity with the preceding Werferths; the coins struck from it are smaller in size than other Efes and have a rather larger and decorated reverse lozenge which suggests that they are early in Efe’s coinage (Plate 1, 5). This confirms the suggestion made on metrological grounds that these coins stand at the head of his series.9

Wilred’s place at the end of Beonna’s coinage is supported by the existence of two broad pennies of the reformed finesilver coinage struck for Offa of Mercia with the same moneyer’s name, both obverse and reverse in all-Roman letters (Plate 1, 15).10 It is reasonable to conclude that the same person was involved and that the coins were produced within a relatively short time of each other. Coins of Interlace type The third group of Beonna’s coins have no moneyer’s name and are known from their reverse as the Interlace type (Plate 1, 12 and 13). Seven are recorded (one known only from an early nineteenth-century publication11). Like the Wilreds, they have all-runic obverse legends. Most obverse dies have

Coins of the moneyer Wilred The second group of Beonna coins are of a different type in the name of the moneyer Wilred (Plate 1, 9-11), of which 7

As the three known coins from different find-spots are all from the same die, it may be that other reverses were not in fact made. This prompts the thought that Werferth and Efe were perhaps the same person, the latter name being a hypocoristic form that was less time-consuming to cut on the dies when many were required quickly. 8 Cowell, ‘Appendix 4, Analysis of coins of Beonna and related issues’, pp. 42-8. All comments here on the silver content of the coins of Beonna refer to Cowell’s paper. 9 Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas, pp. 604-5.

10 One coin is in Berlin: Kluge, Sylloge of the Coins of the British Isles 36, State Museum Berlin Coin Cabinet: Anglo-Saxon, Anglo-Norman and Hiberno-Norse coins, No. 67. The second, from different dies, was found at St Osyth’s, Essex, in 1981, and is in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, with whose kind permission it is illustrated here. 11 Pagan, ‘A new type for Beonna’.

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Marion M. Archibald expertise in locations likely to have produced the previous non-regal commercial coinages, Thetford and Ipswich are perhaps more probable for the main mints and, more tentatively and controversially, Beadricesworth for the Interlace type. In view of the uncertainties, it is preferable to refer to the mints by general location rather than place-name until more secure evidence becomes available. The absence of Beonna coins from the east coastal area of Norfolk is notable when compared with the presence there of coins of the previous Series R sceattas whose distribution is otherwise generally similar.15

a pellet instead of an initial cross and unbroken legends: ‘▪ beonnarex’ using the rare rune for ‘x’ (Plate 1, 12). One die has the same layout and inscription as used on the Wilred obverses: ‘+ben+ na▼’ with the bind-rune for rex, divided into groups of three letters by two crosses (Plate 1, 13). This obverse die is not known (at least as yet) paired with any reverse for Wilred. The reverse has a cruciform interlace pattern and lacks an inscription. Again paralleling the Wilred, the single known reverse die is paired with several obverses (here four) in the king’s name. The Interlace coins are struck on particularly wide flans; the average silver content of the three coins analysed is 51%. Despite their similarities with the coins of Wilred, the Interlace coins are too wide to be placed before his smaller, baser pieces, and too fine to follow them, as would be required by their wider flans. The distinctive design and lack of a moneyer’s name set them apart from both the other groups, as indeed does their distribution pattern, suggesting the possibility of a third mint (discussed below). Why they do not have a moneyer’s name like the other Beonna coins is unknown. One possibility is that they are an ecclesiastical or monastic issue like the sceattas reading MONITA S(an)C(t)ORUM and others which the writer has suggested were produced by monastic foundations.12 As the seven known Interlace coins from five different find-spots all share a single obverse die, it is likely that this was a small issue produced over a short period.

The Æthelberht coin A coin found on Valerie Fenwick’s excavation at Burrow Hill, south-east Suffolk, is so similar to Beonna’s issues that it is clearly East Anglian and of the same period (Plate 1, 14)16. This is confirmed by the presence of a Series R sceat stratified in the same level, paralleling the inclusion of a few coins of Series R with the Beonnas in the Middle Harling hoard. Both obverse and reverse types are versions of the cross with central motif and inscriptions divided by the cross-arms familiar from the reverses of Werferth and Efe. On the die of heavier style the central area is still squarish in outline while on the other, of finer style, it is circular. The two inscriptions are interspersed with pellets, again as found on the Werferth/Efe reverses, although here they appear to be less systematic. Both sides lack an initial cross, a feature particularly important in the privy-marking system on the Efe dies. There therefore seems little doubt that, despite its southern provenance, this coin (like several Efes also found at Burrow Hill) was produced at the northern mint. It also seems to mark some decline from the standards of the previous issues from that mint. It is on a fairly wide flan and is only 41.5% fine17 so cannot be placed before or in parallel with the smaller, finer, Werferths at the start of Beonna’s coinage, nor slotted between them and the Efes. Unless the silver-content of the only extant example is abnormally low it cannot even be placed alongside any of Efe’s coins. Its most likely place is after the Efes at the south-west Norfolk mint, and so chronologically between the two major groups of Beonna’s coins.

Findspots and mints of Beonna’s coins No mints are named on Beonna’s coins so their find-spots must be used, despite the problems in using this evidence, as an indication of where they were struck. Those of Werferth and Efe are shown on Map 1, and Wilred and Interlace type on Map 2.13 More individual find-spots are desirable to strengthen the evidence, so it is particularly regrettable that no provenances are recorded for any of the five additional coins (all Efes) to appear on the market since 1994. With the exception of two outliers from the major trading centre of Dorestadt in the Netherlands and the important monastic site at Whithorn in Galloway, and one coin from Cambridgeshire, all the coins are located within East Anglia. Predictably, the commoner coins of Efe are more widely distributed: trading places and coastal sites show a more mixed currency, and the Icknield Way band of distribution familiar from the preceding East Anglian coins of Series Q and R14 is just coming into focus. The distribution patterns of the different groups are none the less distinctive, with coins of Efe and Werferth more common in the north, and those of Wilred in the south, with those of the Interlace type between the two. Taken together with the evidence of distinctive features separating the groups discussed above, this suggests a minting place for the Werferths and Efes in south-west Norfolk, for the Wilreds in south-east Suffolk, with the Interlace type apparently somewhere in central Suffolk. The actual minting places are unknown. Villae regales in these areas are not impossible but, on the basis of a continuity of

The coin bears a personal name on each side in all-runic letters, which are again carefully engraved. The side of heavier style reads ‘eþ æl be rt’, and that of finer style, ‘ti æl re d’. Both name-forms are abnormal. The simple transposition of ‘e’ and ‘æ’ is probably no more than the result of hypercorrection by an inexperienced die-cutter engraving in mirror image, and the name involved is clearly Æthelberht. The second name presents greater problems but has been interpreted as Tilræd.18 There is no title on either side, but the regal coins of the contemporary Eadberht of Northumbria never include his title, nor do some of the broad 15

Ibid., map on p. 505. Fenwick, ‘Insula de Burgh’ and Archibald and Fenwick, ‘A sceat of Ethelbert I’. 17 Cowell, ‘Appendix 2: Statistical and analytical investigation of the Beonna and Ethelbert coinages’, pp. 17-19. 18 The name forms are discussed in Archibald and Fenwick, ‘A sceat of Ethelbert I’, pp. 8-9, with the advice of Dr Fran Coleman. See F. Coleman, ‘More Meetings of Philology and Linguistics – with a Little Help from Their Friends: on a Recently discovered Anglo-Saxon Coin’, pp. 25-33. 16

12

Archibald, in The Making of England: Anglo-Saxon Art and Culture AD 600-900, p. 66, No. 56. The maps were modified by the writer from four prepared by Brendan Moore for Archibald and Fenwick, ‘A sceat of Ethelbert I of East Anglia and recent finds of coins of Beonna’. They are reproduced here by kind permission of the Council of the British Numismatic Society. 14 Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas, maps on pp. 500, 503 and 505. 13

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Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context

Map 1: FINDSPOTS INDICATING COINS OF WERFERTH AND EFE

Map 2: FINDSPOTS INDICATING COINS OF WILRED AND INTERLACE TYPE 126

Marion M. Archibald

Æthelberht I x 2

Beonna x 2

PLATE 1 127

Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context R. Since there is only one coin of Æthelberht among a total of fifty-one isolated finds it is not necessarily statistically or chronologically significant that his coins are absent from a hoard containing just fifty-one coins of Beonna. The earliest coin in the hoard, the Werferth (Plate 1, 4), shows virtually no sign of wear. While duration in circulation is always impossible to quantify as an exact number of years, it is unlikely that this coin had been in circulation for long. The condition of the earlier coins in the hoard (Plate 1, 1-3) is also significant. They are not worn but, even allowing for the greater vulnerability of their baser metal, they are distinctly less fresh that the Werferth and the other Beonnas. The evidence therefore suggests that Beonna’s coinage was issued intensively but over a comparatively short period of time.

pennies of Offa of Mercia. Known persons at this period called Tilræd are unlikely issuers, leaving little doubt that the ruler is Æthelberht and that he may be identified with the Alberht who shared the kingdom of the East Angles in 749.19 The omission of the title may be no more than a consequence of a long name at a time when the title was not an imperative. Since there is now the contemporary authority of the coin, Alberht should be called Æthelberht I and the later saint, Æthelberht II, of the East Angles. Representativeness of the present material Before considering the sequence of issues and their historical context it is necessary to form a view of how representative the extant coins are of the original coinage as a whole. Could there still be coins earlier or later in date, of other dies, types, moneyers and even rulers, which have not yet come to light? New coins are always possible, especially from issues produced in very small numbers, but there is good evidence that the present corpus is a fairly representative sample of the major series. Using statistical techniques Cowell showed in 1985 that, for the Efe and Wilred series, few lower dies remained to be discovered, although a larger number of the less chronologically significant upper dies were still outstanding.20 This conclusion is supported by the fact that since 1985, a total of thirty-three additional coins of Efe and Wilred have turned up and yet there has not been one ‘new’ lower die among them, nor indeed any for the rarer Werferth and Interlace types. It is therefore unlikely that any major series of Beonna’s coins is still outstanding, although the Æthelberht itself underlines the possibility of something startlingly new. It remains theoretically possible that there were coins, perhaps even in better silver and on possibly narrower flans, struck before and on an even smaller scale than the Werferths. It seems more probable that Beonna’s coinage was instituted (like that of Eadberht of Northumbria, which it resembles in other ways) on a 75% standard. Earlier coins at the southern mint for Beonna, while again a theoretical possibility, are once more unlikely. Earlier coins at the Interlace mint, and earlier or later coins for Æthelberht cannot be ruled out completely but, if there were any, they must have been issued on a tiny scale. The absence of coins of Hun could, arguably, also be just an index of the even smaller scale of his production, but he may no longer have been around when the regal pennies began to be issued. In that case no coins in his name may be expected.

Relative chronology of the coinage The sequence of the coinage represented by currentlyrecorded coins appears to be as follows: Beonna’s coins began in south-east Norfolk with the issue of Werferth at 75% silver, followed by the Efes at 50%. They were a prolific and well-produced series with a sophisticated system of privy marking which implies strict royal control over the coinage. They were followed by the only known issue of Æthelbert I, where there is evidence of a decline in output and some slippage in terms of both silver content and production quality. No later coins of Beonna are known from the northern mint. The surviving coins of Beonna by Wilred at the southern mint are unlikely to have begun as early as his better coins in the north. The new type and the small flans of the earlier coins suggest a fresh start, but the privy marking system of the earlier regal coins was abandoned and the 50% silver standard could not be maintained. At the end of the series the silver content was halved to only 25% silver while literacy and production standards were also beginning to show signs of decline and of a lessening in royal control. It should be noted that the earlier East Anglian coins of Series R had fallen still lower to an apparent target-standard of 5% silver, so it looks as if Beonna’s coinage may have been cut off by external political factors rather than just running into the ground through a failure of bullion supplies. The Interlace coins with an average of 50% silver are better metal than the Wilreds but with their very broad flans are likely to be later in date. This anomaly would be easier to explain if they were struck at a different mint by a monastic issuer who, late in the coinage, still had sufficient bullion to maintain a more limited production at the regular 50% standard at a time when the king’s supplies of silver were beginning to run out.

It is important to this discussion that the Middle Harling hoard is also likely to be representative of the complete timescale and broad range of the extant Beonna coinage. Examples of both the finest and basest known coins are included and most of the individual site finds die-link with coins present in it. None of the site-finds unavailable for analysis would appear visually to be of obviously worse metal than those already analysed; certainly none have the characteristically coppery baseness of the late coins of Series

Date of the coinage From before 749 until 757 East Anglia was subject to the overlordship of Æthelbald of Mercia. The extent and consistency of his power is uncertain but it seems unlikely that he would, under normal circumstances, have tolerated a king in his sphere of influence issuing a self-aggrandising coinage in his own name. Since the moneyer Wilred ties the end of Beonna’s coinage to a time shortly before Offa’s initial presence in East Anglia and the coinage is likely to have been produced over a comparatively short period, the earlier part of Beonna’s reign after Ælfwold’s death in 749 can be ruled out. The most likely period for the issue of the

19 The attribution of this coin to Alberht/Æthelberht I, rather than to Saint Æthelberht, is discussed in Archibald and Fenwick, ‘A sceat of Ethelbert I’, pp. 9-10. Kirby, The Earliest English Kings, equated Alberht and Saint Æthelberht, p. 134. 20 Cowell, ‘Appendix 3. Estimation of the original number of dies used for the Beonna coinage’, pp. 40-42; up-dated in Cowell, in Archibald et al., BNJ 65. pp. 17-18.

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Marion M. Archibald local. An immobilised moneyer’s name had been a feature of the East Anglian issues of Series R (Plate 1, 1). If Beonna’s coins were first produced around 757 as proposed above, the preceding coins with real moneyers’ names Wigraed and Tilberht (Plate 1, 2 and 3 respectively), which are also present in the Middle Harling hoard, are likely to have been the result of an earlier reform of Beonna’s and Æthelberht’s time. There is a hint in their distributions that they too are geographically distinct,23 and it may be that this innovation was made in order to differentiate clearly the issues of their two kingdoms, although numbers are still too small for this to be secure. The introduction of real moneyers’ names was certainly a move towards greater accountability and implies an administrative organisation to record and monitor the system. This is true of privymarking, also probably inspired by the Northumbrian coinage where it took a somewhat different form. The Northumbrian example is present too in Beonna’s ambitious metrological reform to replace the previous East Anglian currency with coins of much higher intrinsic value. He apparently did not have sufficient bullion to restore a finesilver standard like Pepin, nor could he sustain his initial 75% standard, rapidly settling on 50% silver, also echoing developments in the issues of Eadberht in Northumbria.24 Shortage of bullion was chronic in England at this time, but Beonna’s case was complicated by his political situation. Indeed it was probably this political situation that prompted the later reformed coinage rather than any purely economic or commercial considerations.

Beonna coinage is thus between the murder of Æthelbald in 757 (or just before) and Offa’s taking control in East Anglia, after which issues in the name of a local king would again have been inadmissible. The date of Offa’s arrival is not known, but since his first extant East Anglian coins are of the broad-flanned, fine-silver type (Plate 1, 15) which was preceded (in London?) by an issue of small-flanned, basesilver pennies (sceattas),21 it was not immediately after his accession. He is, in any case, unlikely to have tackled East Anglia until he had secured his position in Mercia after driving out his rival. The writer has proposed that it took place sometime between 760 and 765 although other students have preferred a slightly later date, c.770. This would place Beonna’s coinage within the period 757 to 760/65, a period of between three and eight years which would be compatible with the unworn condition of even the oldest of his coins in the Middle Harling hoard, which also includes his latest. The innovative coinage and its inspiration It is important to underline how remarkable and innovative Beonna’s coinage was. Although related to local East Anglian precursors and inspired principally by Northumbrian precedents, these influences were combined and developed in a novel way. Beonna’s coinage was the first south of the Humber to bear a king’s name since the gold tremisses of Eadbald of Kent in the early seventh-century. The inspiration for the king’s name came from the coins of Eadberht of Northumbria (738-57) whose simple circumscription obverse type was also adopted by Beonna.22 However, the royal title never appears on the contemporary Northumbrian coins and the reverse is an animal type, not a moneyer’s name. The reverse of coins of Eadberht’s brother Ecgberht, archbishop of York, sometimes gives his title as A or A as well as his name, and, as the obverse is the usual royal one, the coins provide a precedent in having an inscription on both sides. In Francia, Merovingian regal coins are extremely rare and on the very recent reformed coins by the Carolingian Pepin, introduced c.755, the king’s name and title are usually contracted to single letters. Beonna’s inclusion of ‘rex’ in full was therefore likely to have been his own decision. The introduction of the royal name and title was not simply a typological change but probably marked a deliberate intention to impose royal control on the coinage as in Northumbria and Francia.

Historical context Beonna’s coinage, in the most straightforward interpretation, is the first instance of a recurring phenomenon in East Anglia, when coins in the names of new local kings or existing under-kings aspiring to greater independence were issued for a brief interval before Mercian control was reimposed and the East Anglian moneyers resumed striking exclusively for the current Mercian king.25 The need of a local king in such circumstances to advertise his status, dispense largesse, purchase war material and possibly pay for mercenaries, would provide reasons for Beonna’s introduction of an explicitly regal coinage of much improved silver. In this scenario Beonna and Æthelberht could both have been members of the East Anglian royal family or powerful local magnates who took a share of the kingdom in 749. This model does not, however, fit the pattern of the coinage very well.

Beonna was the first ruler in England to pair the king’s and moneyer’s names, a combination which was thereafter to be standard on the English coinage until the mint name was added as a consistent feature from c.973. Moneyers’ names had been a regular feature of the Merovingian coinage until Pepin’s reform and were the distant precedent for their use in England, but the influence on Beonna’s coinage here was

There may be an added dimension to the case. Æthelbald was succeeded on the throne of Mercia by a certain Beornred whose origins are obscure. Within the year, he was overthrown and put to flight by Offa.26 On the basis that this

21 This coin is unprovenanced but was probably found somewhere in France, and is in the Cabinet des Médailles, Paris. The attribution is not absolutely certain as part of the inscription is off the flan, but it is reasonably secure. M. D(hénin) and M. M. A(rchibald) in Webster and Backhouse, p. 247-8, no. 213 (photograph); Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas, p. 608 (clear line drawing). A fuller publication by Dhénin and Archibald is forthcoming in BNJ 74 (2004, in press). 22 For the Northumbrian coinage see Booth, ‘Sceattas in Northumbria’, in Hill and Metcalf, pp. 71-111; Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas, pp. 576-93; Booth, ‘Northumbrian coinage: the productive site at South Newbald’. The Northumbrian influence is interesting and suggests that there may have been other connections.

23

Metcalf (1994), pp. 521-2 and maps on p. 522. Archibald and Cowell, ‘The fineness of Northumbrian sceattas’. 25 This was the case with Æthelberht II (Saint Æthelberht) during Offa’s lifetime; after Offa’s death with the local king Eadwald; and probably after Coenwulf’s death with the first issue of the local king Athelstan. Kirby also suggested that ‘the minting of his own coins by Beonna would suggest that he too broke free for a time from Æthelbald’s domination’ and that his coins ‘are possibly to be associated with the disintegration of Æthelabld’s imperium in southern England following his death’; see Kirby, The Earliest English Kings, p. 134. 26 This was the fate accorded him by two good early sources: the Peterborough manuscript (E) and the Canterbury manuscript (F) of the 24

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Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context local king in 749 with Norfolk or at least the greater eastern part of it. When Æthelbald was killed, or perhaps shortly before when Beornred/Beonna had assumed greater independence and was planning a bid for the Mercian throne, he instituted a personal coinage to further his ambitions. This was the Werferth/Efe issue. At this stage Æthelberht was presumptively still in Suffolk but possibly in an inferior position if ‘in these times’ Beonna was already ‘king of the East Angles’. Hun’s situation, if he was still effective, was similar. Beornred/ Beonna then ‘invaded’ Mercia and seized the throne, reigning there ‘unhappily’ for some months.31 It was at this point that the coin of Æthelberht was struck at the northern mint. It is possible that Æthelberht had taken the opportunity of Beornred/Beonna’s departure and difficulties in Mercia to try to re-establish East Anglian unity and independence, and had had coins struck in his own name rather hurriedly, and briefly as it turned out, by his own man at his predecessor’s mint. Beornred/Beonna was then put to flight from Mercia by Offa and, it may be suggested, returned to East Anglia where he was for the moment safe while Offa consolidated his position in Mercia. What happened to Æthelberht I thereafter is unclear but, if this hypothesis is correct, he is unlikely to have survived. As far as the Worcester chronicle is concerned, ‘in these times’ only Beonna was king of the East Angles. His coins from this period were produced by the moneyer Wilred at the southern mint in the Wuffingas’ heartland where, as sole king of East Anglia, he was now naturally based. This area was in addition less vulnerable to attack from Mercia. These Wilred coins were also issued on a considerable scale over a short time, probably in anticipation of having to counter an attack by Offa sooner rather than later. They are of a different simplified type, starting off like a new issue on small neat flans but already of worse silver and without the complexities of privy marks. The silver standard was in due course halved; presumably as depleted bullion stocks could not be replaced, shortly before the coinage ended abruptly. It was at this time that the Middle Harling hoard was deposited, significantly including two rough blanks cut and hammered out from some artefact made of better silver, an indication of a reversion to the conditions of earlier periods when coins were not available in sufficient quantity.32 The fact that the coinage ceased at this point rather than becoming even more debased was probably due to Offa’s arrival between 760 and 765, putting an end to Beonna’s rule and probably his life. His moneyer Wilred then struck coins for the victorious Mercian king.

name with a prototheme Beorn- would give a hypocoristic form Beorna or Beonna, Oman suggested that the coins might be not East Anglian but Mercian and of this shortlived king.27 This theory was plausible when the three known coins were without provenances, but the overwhelming East Anglian distribution of the large number now extant makes it untenable. The coincidence of names is perhaps worth looking at from a different direction: is it possible that that Beornred of Mercia and Beonna of East Anglia were the same person? The Worcester chronicle says that after Æthelbald’s death, Beornred ‘invaded’ his kingdom;28 if taken at face value, this means that in the preceding period Beornred had been based outside Mercia, which would support the view that he could have been a king of the East Angles. The same chronicle, however, says that Beornred was killed, whereas the earlier evidence of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says that he was put to flight. These are not incompatible if the Worcester chronicle entry was derived from information that he was killed within a short time of being expelled from Mercia. The following hypothesis shows how the coinage would fit into this model. When Alfwald died in 749 Æthelbald of Mercia may have seen this as an opportunity to bring East Anglia more closely under his control through influencing the succession. He could have tried to achieve this by installing an East Anglian client favourable towards himself, but there was possibly not a suitable local candidate. He may have preferred, and been strong enough, to impose Beornred, a member of the ‘B’ branch of the Mercian royal family, as a sub-king alongside two local candidates. Known in East Anglia by the hypocoristic form of his name, he would have retained a claim to the Mercian throne. Æthelberht was probably a member of East Anglian dynasty, as his name would suggest.29 The origins of Hun, whose name is possibly another hypocoriostic form from -hun or Hun-, is unknown but he was possibly another East Anglian. The territorial boundaries arranged in 749 are not recorded, but a tripartite division of the kingdom is acceptable.30 It is likely that the most senior of the local candidates, probably Æthelberht, acquired the Wuffingas heartlands in Suffolk, and the Mercian nominee, the districts on the western side of East Anglia adjacent to, and/or the marcher lands of Middle Anglia. At least by the time the regal coinage began in 757, Beornred/Beonna and his power-base were already established in south-west Norfolk, but whether this area was already part of his share in 749 or he had acquired it subsequently is uncertain. This would have left the second

The only other written source for East Anglian regal history at this time is the Vita of St Æthelbert (Æthelberht II) which says that the saint began his reign in 779 and that his father was King Æthelred.33 The East Anglian regnal list in the Worcester chronicle (whose information here may or may not be independent of the Vita) has Æthelred succeeding Beonna. The credence given to this information has varied over the years, and recently it has been widely regarded as

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle – both say that Offa put Beornred to flight; the Parker manuscript (A) is silent on what happened to him, Swanton, The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, pp. 46, 48-50. The northern Historia Regum follows this, s.a.757, EHD, p. 241. JW Chron. says that he was killed, but see the discussion in the main text below. 27 Oman, The Coinage of England, p. 16. 28 JW Chron, pp. 198-9. 29 Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England, p.68, suggests that Alberht may have been a member of the same family group as the earlier kings of the East Angles but that Beonna, from the form of his name, probably was not. 30 Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, p. 69 suggests that the tripartite division in 749 could be based on Norfolk, Suffolk and the lands around Ely. See also the discussion on the position of Middle Anglia and adjacent areas in Kirby (1991), pp. 65-6.

31

References as at note 26. The blanks are discussed in Archibald et al, ‘The Coinage of Beonna’, pp. 16-17. In addition to a number of hoards including blanks mentioned there, it is noted that a blank was present among the contemporary material from Burrow Hill. 33 James, ‘Two lives of St Ethelbert’, pp. 222 and 236. 32

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Marion M. Archibald unsafe, but some historians have begun to accept with caution some of its statements.34 If the Vita may be relied upon in this regard, Æthelred probably became sub-king of the East Angles under Offa sometime in the early 760s and, as there are no coins for him (at least as yet), he apparently remained in a subordinate position to Offa throughout his reign and was succeeded by his son Æthelberht II in 779. The chronology of this period is dependent on the interpretation of Offa’s East Anglian coinage, which is considered elsewhere in this volume.35

34

Yorke, Kings and Kingdoms, pp. 64 and 68. See Chick, ‘The Coinage of Offa in the light of Recent Discoveries’, above, in this volume.

35

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Beonna and Alberht: Coinage and Historical Context James, M. R., ‘Two lives of St. Ethelbert’, English Historical Review 32 (April, 1917), pp. 14-44.

Abbreviations BNJ

The British Numismatic Journal

Kirby, D. P., The Earliest English Kings (London, 1991).

EHD English Historical Documents I c.500-1042, ed. D. Whitelock (London, 1955).

Kluge, B., Sylloge of the Coins of the British Isles 36, State Museum Berlin Coin Cabinet: Anglo-Saxon, Anglo-Norman and Hiberno-Norse coins (London, 1987).

JWChron The Chronicle of John of Worcester, Vol.II, eds R.R. Darlington and P. McGurk, trs. J. Bray and P. McGurk (Oxford, 1995).

Metcalf, D. M., Thrymsas and Sceattas in the Ashmolean Museum Oxford, Vol. 3 (London, 1994). Oman, C., The Coinage of England (Oxford, 1931).

Bibliography

Pagan, H. E., ‘A new type for Beonna’, BNJ 37 (1968), pp. 10-15.

Archibald, M. M., with contributions by M. R. Cowell, R. I. Page and A. J. G. Rogerson, ‘The coinage of Beonna in the light of the Middle Harling Hoard’, BNJ 55 (1985), pp. 1053.

Page, R. I., ‘Appendix 2. The legends on the coins’ in Archibald et al., ‘The coinage of Beonna in the light of the Middle Harling Hoard’, BNJ 55 (1985), pp. 37-40.

Archibald, M. M. and M. R. Cowell, ‘The fineness of Northumbrian sceattas’, Metallurgy in Numismatics 2 (1988), pp. 55-64.

Rogerson, A., A late Neolithic, Saxon and Medieval Site at Middle Harling, Norfolk, East Anglian Archaeological Report No 74 (Sleaford, 1995).

Archibald, M. M. and M. Dhénin, ‘A sceat of Offa of Mercia’, BNJ 74 (2004), forthcoming.

Swanton, M., ed. and trs., The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (London, 1996).

Archibald, M. M. and V. Fenwick, with M. R. Cowell, ‘A sceat of Ethelbert I of East Anglia and recent finds of coins of Beonna’, BNJ 65 (1995), pp. 1-31.

Webster, L. and J. Backhouse, The Making of England: Anglo-Saxon Art and Culture AD 600-900 (London, 1991). Yorke, B., Kings and Kingdoms of Early Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1992).

Booth, J., ‘Sceattas in Northumbria’ in D. Hill and D. H. Metcalf, eds, Sceattas in England and on the Continent, BAR British Series 128 (Oxford, 1984), pp. 71-111. Booth, J., ‘Northumbrian coinage: the productive site of South Newbald’, The Yorkshire Numismatist 3 (1997), pp. 15-38. Coleman, F., ‘More Meetings of Philology and Linguistics – with a Little Help from Their Friends: on a Recently discovered Anglo-Saxon Coin’, in Festschrift for Professor Matti Rissanen, ed. Terttu Nevalainen and Leena KahlasTarkka, Mémoires de la Société Néophilologique de Helsinki 52 (Helsinki, 1997), pp. 25-33. Cowell, M. R., ‘Appendix 3. Estimation of the original number of dies used for the Beonna coinage’ in Archibald et al. (1985), pp. 40-42. Cowell, M. R., ‘Appendix 4. Analysis of coins of Beonna and related issues’ in Archibald et al. (1985), pp. 42-8. Cowell, M. R., ‘Appendix 2. Statistical and analytical investigation of the Beonna and Ethelbert coinages’ in Archibald et al. (1995), pp. 17-19. Fenwick, V., ‘Insula de Burgh: excavations at Burrow Hill, Butley, Suffolk 1978-81’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History 3, Oxford University Committee for Archaeology (Oxford 1984), pp. 35-54. 132

Riches in Heaven and on Earth: Some Thoughts on the Iconography of Coinage at the time of Æthelbald Anna Gannon The long reign of King Æthelbald (716-757) and the beginning of the Mercian supremacy coincided with an expansion in the circulation of the sceattas, or early silver pennies, the Secondary phase of the silver coinage.1 From the early eighth century the pattern of distribution of coin finds is not exclusively limited to the South East, but includes Wessex, East Anglia and Southern Western Mercia and Northumbria, and their great numbers indicate lively inland trafficking and interregional trade. There were mintplaces in Kent, Wessex and East Anglia and London, but it is debatable whether there were any in Mercia.

of variations, which shows a common preoccupation with the theme of Salvation.4 But what of the figure that is traditionally taken to represent ‘the king’, the bust on the obverse of a coin? On eighthcentury issues busts are often shown with attributes that must have been introduced to lend additional meaning to the image. Many of these attributes are capable of conveying a range of ideas, and may be seen to represent secular as well as sacred symbols. It is my contention that the iconography of busts is related to the concepts of ideal kingship and its responsibilities.5 I shall consider a range of attributes which appear in discrete Series and explore their interpretations. Some, such as crosses, are obvious, whilst for the significance of others we need corroboration from contemporary literature.

Secondary-phase coins south of the Humber do not bear the name of kings, so no particular coinage can safely be attributed to King Æthelbald, and earlier ‘political’ suggestions have necessitated retraction on account of chronological problems.2 Moreover, as we lack evidence to state categorically that in the eighth century mints were under direct royal control, it is more prudent to consider the coinage of the time as a whole, and only to venture to assume that the coins in question, minted at different places and spanning about fifty years, would most probably have all been known to Æthelbald. What would he have made of the iconography of these coins?

Crosses in front of busts already appear in Anglo-Saxon gold coinage of the first half of the seventh century, and indeed on the coins ascribed to King Eadbald of Kent the strong Christian symbolism (cross-on-globe before the king’s bust and on the reverse of the coin) is particularly poignant.6 For Æthelbald the sign of the cross in front of busts on coins of Series T (perhaps minted in the Midlands), on sceattas reading MONITASCORUM, on Series K, Type 32, minted in Kent early in Æthelbald’s reign, and Series L, from London, probably about the 730s, might have recalled Constantine’s dream with the promise of Victory, which he might have equated to his own vision at the tomb of Guthlac.7 (Figure 1: Series K, Type 32a, obv.). One must also recall that this is the age of the great stone crosses, a remarkable feature of Anglo-Saxon art. An emphatic Chi-

The innovative designs of the time confidently move away from the traditional numismatic prototypes of the earlier coinage, and mirror the wide artistic and cultural heritage of eighth-century Anglo-Saxon England.3 Within the great variety of designs, some Germanic, some Mediterranean in origin, however, there appears to be a remarkable uniformity of subjects across Series and regions, for instance in the recurring iconography of the ‘bird-in-vine’, albeit in a wealth

4

Emblematic of Jesus’ words in John, XV.1-8, the ‘bird in vine’ motif is found in countless variations in Anglo-Saxon sculpture, metalwork, manuscripts, embroidery and carvings (see for instance, Webster & Backhouse, The Making of England [henceforth referred to as MoE], nos. 101, 113, 114, 116, 134, 140, 143, etc.). Among Anglo-Saxon coins the ‘bird-in-vine’ appears in Series U, Series V, Series H Type 39, ‘Celtic Cross’ with rosettes type, ‘animal mask’, and the ‘archer’ group. A vine scroll with bunches of grapes features in Series M. The reader is invited to consult the relevant sections in T&S, vol. 3, for details on these and the other Series mentioned in this article. 5 The kingship approved of by Bede and later by Alcuin, which finds its ‘type’ in the Old Testament, is discussed in Wallace-Hadrill, Early Germanic Kingship in England and on the Continent, pp. 76-87; in Bullough, ‘“Imagines Regum” and their significance in the Early Medieval West’, pp. 238-39. See also the language and imagery used by Boniface in his letter of admonition to King Æthelbald (Talbot, The Anglo-Saxon Missionaries in Germany, ‘Boniface writes a letter of Admonition to Æthelberht’, No.32, pp. 120-21) and biblical overtones given to the prophecy of St Guthlac (VG, ch. XLIX, pp. 148-51). 6 King Eadbald of Kent (616-40) succeeded King Æthelberht (560-616) who had accepted St Augustine’s mission and the new faith. At Æthelberht’s death however there was a reaction against Christianity and Eadbald followed pagan practices at the beginning of his reign. He later converted to Christianity (Bede, HE, II.5-11), as his coins testify (Williams, ‘The gold coinage of Eadbald, King of Kent( AD 616-40)’, including plate 26, 1-5). 7 VG, ch.LII, pp. 164-67. More prosaically, Æthelbald’s celestial sign is a delivery of food: the dead Guthlac in his new otherworldly wisdom must have been aware of the dangers of prolonged abstinence. See Meaney, above in this volume, ‘Felix’s Life of Guthlac: History or Hagiograph?’.

1

Grierson and Blackburn, Medieval European Coinage: I The Early Middle Ages (5th-10th centuries), pp. 168-73 (henceforth referred to as MEC) for a concentrated overall view of the coinage of the time in question. Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas In the Ashmolean Museum Oxford, (henceforth referred to as T&S), specifically volume 3 for a detailed analysis of the various Series and Types in which the coinage is subdivided by numismatists. The coinage is divided between Primary, Intermediate and Secondary phases, and the coins are subdivided in twenty-six Series, distinguished by alphabet letters, some functioning as aide-mémoire, such as H for Hamwic (Rigold, ‘The principal Series of English sceattas’). Rigold’s arrangement has been widely adopted, but the classification of the coinage is extremely complicated, as it is also divided in Types, originally from the numbering of the coins in the British Museum Catalogue (BMC Types 1-54), as devised by Keary (A Catalogue of English Coins in the British Museum, Anglo-Saxon Series) and subsequently added to by Hill (Types 55-76; Hill, ‘Uncatalogued sceattas in the national and other collections’) and Stewart (Types 77-109: I. Stewart, ‘The early English denarial coinage, c.680-750’). For an annotated concordance among Types and Series, see T&S, vol. 3, pp. 681-685. A chronology of the sceattas has been devised by Blackburn, MEC, pp. 18489. 2 Metcalf, ‘The “bird and branch” sceattas in the light of a find from Abingdon’, but see now Metcalf in T&S, vol. 3, p. 553. 3 See Gannon, The Iconography of Early Anglo-Saxon Coinage (6th to 8th Centuries).

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Figures 1 – 8 1. Series K, Type 32a, obv. 2. Series K, Type 20, obv. 3. Series K, Type 42, obv. 4. Series K, Type 20, obv. 5. ‘Animal Mask type’, rev. 6. ‘CARIP’ Group, obv. 7-8 ‘Archer Group’, obv. and rev.

Riches in Heaven and on Earth: Some Thoughts on the Iconography of Coinage at the time of Æthelbald

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Anna Gannon signifies the spiritual salvation of the soul, one must not forget that Anglo-Saxon medicine and magic were based on the virtues of plants bringing healing to the body. The two ideas of deliverance, spiritual and physical, may be intentionally juxtaposed, as in a riddle. Because on coins of Series K, Type 42, the sprig is held close to the nose, we might postulate that its perceived perfume would have had further anagogical connotations. Frankincense and myrrh, burnt in the worship of God and emperors, symbolise prayer.15 They are also praised for their medicinal virtues, and appear, with gold coins, as worthy gifts from the Wise Men on the front panel of the Franks Casket.16

Rho, another cross sign common on many artefacts of the time, is to be read in the flamboyantly knotted wreath-ties of Series K.8Coins of Series K, Type 20 have a cup held in front of the bust, in some varieties with a cross above it. On the Franks Casket two different types of cups are represented:9 a palm-cup,10 similar to the one on our coins, and one with a stem and a prominent knob, resembling contemporary Eucharist chalices.11 It seems that the cup on our coins can be interpreted as secular, alluding to hospitality and generosity, kingly qualities in pagan times, and also desirable in a Christian context.12 The Anglo-Saxon riddles understood as meaning ‘cup’, however, alert us to a more complex interpretation of the object, where dichotomies between sacred and profane contexts, secular feasting and the Eucharist, wine and Blood, are material for metaphysical meditations and edifying thoughts.13 (Figure 2: Series K, Type 20, obv.)

On other coins of Series K, Type 42, there is a bird next to the bust (Figure 4: Series K, Type 42, obv.). This bird is usually interpreted as a falcon.17 A reference in Beowulf to falconry as a suitably heroic and fashionable pastime, Archbishop Boniface’s gift of one hawk and two falcons to Æthelbald of Mercia, and King Ethelbert of Kent’s request for two falcons from Boniface, testify to its prestige in Anglo-Saxon England.18 Many birds, however, are connected with saints: the obvious example is St John the Evangelist and his eagle, but stories of Cuthbert and Guthlac also include references to birds,19 and of course a dove symbolises the Holy Ghost. The legends and the iconography connected with the cult of the Saint-King Oswald, perpetuated on the Continent through Anglo-Saxon missionaries, also include a raven as his attribute.20 The ambiguity between the two contexts, the sacred and the secular, is also shared by the related iconography of the reverses of the K-related eclectic group (Type 20) and of Series L, Types 18 and 19, with a standing figure (and Type 13, with a sitting figure) holding a cross and a bird, sometimes with a T-shaped perch for the bird (Figure 5: ‘Animal Mask type’, rev.).

It is equally possible to see a multiplicity of allusions in the iconography of coins of Series K, Type 42, where a sprig is held in front of the bust (Figure 3: Series K, Type 42, obv.). We might see it as a representation of the crux foliata, the living cross, or of the vine-scroll, on account of the berries that appear on some variations. Coins classified as Types 32B and 68 have ‘rosettes’ of pellets in front of the busts. Similar ‘rosettes’ are found nestled under the armpits of the Celtic crosses of Hamwic Series H, Type 39 and within the vine-scroll of Series M. A clue to the meaning of these comes from the sculptural counterparts of the vine-scroll at Breedon-on-the-Hill, on that of the Lowther Cross, and from the many examples in the Book of Kells:14 the ‘rosettes’ of pellets represent bunches of grapes. If the vine-scroll 8

The meaning of the Chi-Rho is explored in Lewis, ‘Sacred calligraphy: the Chi-Rho page in the Book of Kells’. See also Stiegemann and Wemhoff, 799 Kunst und Kultur der Karolingerzeit, Karl der Große und Papst Leo III in Paderborn (catalogue of the 1999 Paderborn exhibition), vol. 2, VII.18, p. 458, on the iconography of the Gandersheim (Braunschweig) Casket and the Chi-Rhos formed by the interlace. Such crosses are indeed conspicuous on many artefacts: see for instance MoE nos. 47, 184 and 173. Innumerable examples appear in the Book of Kells (e.g. ff. 114, 124, 187v, 218), and allow a Christian reading to the interlocked beaks on the jamb of the west door of St Peter’s, Monkwearmouth, and related images. On some reverses of coins of Series K, Type 33, the animals’ tongues are occasionally knotted and a paw inserted in the loop (cf. T&S, vol. 3, pp. 388-89). 9 The Franks Casket (MoE no. 70): two types are represented on the front panel: palm cup given by Weland the Smith to Beadohild and a chalice in the scene with the Magi. Another palm cup is shown on the bottom left scene of the back panel and there is a chalice on the right-hand panel. For the latest interpretations of the iconography of the casket, see Webster, ‘The iconographic programme of the Franks Casket’; Lang, ‘The Imagery on the Franks Casket: another approach’, and Vegvar, ‘The travelling twins: Romulus and Remus in Anglo-Saxon England’, all in Hawkes, J. and S. Mills, Northumbria’s Golden Age. 10 Harden, ‘Glass vessels in Britain and Ireland A.D. 400-1000’, at p. 138, fig. 25X. 11 See, for instance, the Tassilo Chalice (MoE no.131) and Ryan, ‘The Formal Relationships of Insular Early Medieval Eucharistic Chalices’. 12 Apart from the well-known references to feasting as bonding in Beowulf, there are several inscriptions on the theme of hospitality as ‘political medium’ on bracteates (Andrén, ‘Guld och makt – en tolkning av de skandinaviska guldbrakteaternas funktion’, at p. 249) and also see Bede, HE, III.6 on King Oswald as Christian host and alms-giver. 13 Williamson, ed., The Old English Riddles of the Exeter Book, nos. 9, 61 and 28a, and Whitehurst Williams, ‘Sacred and profane: a metaphysical conceit upon a cup’. 14 For the Lowther Cross and the plant-scroll at Breedon-on-the-Hill, see Wilson, Anglo-Saxon Art, p. 76, fig. 77 and p. 80, fig. 85. For the Book of Kells, f. 32v., see Youngs, ‘A Northumbrian plaque from Asby Winderwath’, at p. 292, fig. 23.8, and her discussion of the motif.

There is a parallel between these coins and the lower panel of the Bewcastle Cross,21 where a tall, stately figure stands 15 Incense, ‘the prayers of saints’ (Rev. 5.8), was also burnt in Anglo-Saxon England as a departure ceremony: Bede, Lives of the Abbots of Wearmouth and Jarrow, ch. 17, p. 203, in Webb and Farmer, The Age of Bede; myrrh, associated with the memory of the Saviour, was also used as an analgesic, Cabrol and Leclerq, Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie; Riddle, ‘The introduction and use of Eastern drugs in the Early Middle Ages’, at p. 188, and Atchley, A History of the Use of Incense in Divine Worship. 16 See MoE, no.70, p. 101. 17 T&S, vol. 3, p. 392. 18 Alexander, ed., Beowulf, p. 148: lines 2262-65 ne god hafoc / geond sæl swingeð. For the correspondence on falcons, Dümmler: Epistolae Merowingici et Karolini Aevi: letter of Boniface to Æthelbald, p. 337, no. 69; letter of Ethelbert to Boniface: p. 391, no. 105. For an account of falconry in Anglo-Saxon England, see Oggins, ‘Falconry in Anglo-Saxon England’ and Hicks, ‘The birds on the Sutton Hoo purse’, at pp. 162-65. 19 Bede, Life of Cuthbert, ch. 12, p. 58 and chapters 19-20, pp. 68-70, in Webb and. Farmer;.VG, ch.XXXIX, pp. 120-25. 20 Clemoes, The Cult of St Oswald on the Continent. See also: Thacker, ‘Membra disjecta: the division of the body and the diffusion of the cult’; Tudor, ‘Reginald’s Life of St Oswald’ and Jansen, ‘The development of the St Oswald legends on the Continent’ in Stancliffe and Cambridge, Oswald, Northumbrian King to European Saint. In Reginald’s Life the ash-tree into which the raven flew with Oswald’s severed arm becomes sanctified. The probably unintentional pagan overtones (both ash-tree and raven are sacred to Woden) are worth noting because they unwittingly perpetuate attributes of sacral kingship. For a discussion of these, see Rollason, Saints and Relics in Anglo-Saxon England. 21 MoE, p. 149, Fig. 11. Bewcastle is not far from Hexham, whence Wilfrid promoted the cult of Oswald (Rollason, Saints and Relics, p. 113 and

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Riches in Heaven and on Earth: Some Thoughts on the Iconography of Coinage at the time of Æthelbald to instil fear leading to repentance.31 The obverse and reverse of the coin are related – salvation, as the well-meaning blows of the archer/preacher remind us, is found abiding and feeding in the True Vine. The fact that the image of the archer can also be understood as a symbol of Evil seems to furnish material for meditation on the pains of temporary penance compared to those of eternal damnation32 (Figures 7-8: ‘Archer Group’ obv. and rev.).

holding a bird, next to a T-shaped perch. The figure has been interpreted as representing an aristocratic benefactor with his falcon or as St John with his eagle.22 The ambiguity is unavoidable, as the attribute is shared, but may be intentional, stimulating meditation, inviting cross-references and anagogical readings.23 Indeed a similar multivalency may be invoked for the mounted warrior of the Repton Stone, generally identified with King Æthelbald,24 whose iconography is modelled on Classical prototypes subsequently used to represent militant Christian saints. The audience may have been invited to draw parallels between these and the figure, in the ‘orans’ position and in secular clothes and military accoutrement, who not only fulfilled Guthlac’s prophecy,25 but is now triumphant over death.26

The complexity of themes and references suggested by the images and attributes of the coins finds counterparts in the exegesis and in the secular literature of the time, both characterised by the juxtaposition of potent images. Coins take on an extra dimension, so that we might consider them as offering the audience, sensitive to subtle connections and actively searching for patterns of meaning, much material for edifying thoughts. A similarity between the aesthetic pleasure to be found in the interweaving of seemingly disparate ideas in Anglo-Saxon literary art and the interlace patterns in graphic art has been suggested by Whitehurst Williams.33 Interlace has been seen as an underlying organising principle in the complexity of Beowulf,34 an idea refined by John Niles’ perception of the structure as composed of symmetrically arranged roundels.35 This image suggests a way of organising concepts or events as selfstanding medallions or miniatures within a complex framework, again reminiscent of the visual arts. It is particularly helpful as it suggests a mentality and an intellectual framework in which coins may have been seen as the perfect embodiment of riddles, or indeed of sermons in miniature. The more educated the onlooker, the more meaning could be teased out, so that the iconography could be read at different levels, from literal to anagogical,36 truly offering riches in Heaven and on Earth.

Whoever the figures on the reverses of many of the Series, often standing on a lunette and entrenched between symbols, represent, they also suggest interesting comparisons. Whereas the figures of Series U stand between two large crosses, those of Secondary Series L, K and related, stand between a cross and a plant or between two plants.27 The juxtaposition of crosses and trees invites a comparison between the cross and the uprooted tree, once a living plant, expressed in the same manner in the Dream of the Rood.28 Transmutation is a recurring theme in the metaphors of Anglo-Saxon riddles, a number of which invite meditation on the idea of living trees becoming wood, out of which objects such as spears, cups or boats can be fashioned.29 Although the image of the tree might have also carried ancient echoes,30 some of the sinuous plants would undoubtedly have suggested a biblical reference by recalling the beloved image of the ‘true vine’, provider of food and refuge for the soul (Figure 6: ‘CARIP’ Group, obv.). It seems fitting to terminate with an image Æthelbald would have understood well: that of the Archer. The archer represents the preacher: his arrow, not pointed, but with a rounded finial, intended to stun rather than kill, aims God’s words and warnings of His punishment at the soul, in order

Acknowledgements: I am very grateful to Prof. G. de Wit in Rotterdam for generously allowing me to reproduce coins in his Collection as illustrations to this article.

Thacker ‘Membra disjecta’, p. 107 ff.) and from where his cult spread (Bede, HE, III.2 and 9-13). Artistic similarities between the Bewcastle cross and fragments from Hexham show links between the two communities, see Bailey and Cramp, Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Stone Sculpture in England, p. 70. 22 Ó Carragáin, ‘A liturgical interpretation of the Bewcastle Cross’. Bailey and Cramp, Corpus, pp. 69-70 and Karkov, ‘The Bewcastle Cross; some iconographical problems’, at p. 12 ff., also note, and discuss similarities with our coins. Recently scholarly opinion has moved towards a secular interpretation of the figure (Ó Carragáin, personal communication). 23 Karkov, ‘The Bewcastle Cross’, p. 20. I interpret the figures at Bewcastle and on the coins as kingly saints, but strongly reject the label ‘noblemanfalconer’, as the bird (as echoed in Oswald’s legend) carries far richer connotations than those of a fashion accessory being paraded. 24 Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle, ‘The Repton Stone’, at pp. 289-90. 25 VG, ch. XLIX, pp. 149-51. 26 The iconography may be compared to that of the ‘riders with raised arms’ (Salin, La civilisation mérovingienne, Vol. 4, pp. 286-292). See also the triumphant pose of the female centaurs on coins of Series S, carrying palms of victory in their raised hands. 27 Series L, Type16, CARIP group, K/N-related eclectic group, Type 16/41. 28 Swanton, The Dream of the Rood, e.g., lines 28-30. 29 Williamson, The Old English Riddles, p. 229 and p. 345; Niles, ‘Exeter Book riddle 74 and the play of the text’. 30 As the world-tree Yggdrasil in Norse mythology and Woden’s sacred oak: see note 20 on Oswald’s sacred ash-tree.

31 Raw, ‘The Archer, the Eagle and the Lamb’, at p. 393 for relevant quotes in the Patrologia Latina. Ó Carragáin, ‘The Ruthwell Crucifixion poem in its iconographic and liturgical contexts’, at pp. 41-2 (third Canticle of Habakkuk, verse 9: ‘Thou wilt surely take up thy bow’) and 62, note 86. 32 Saxl, ‘The Ruthwell Cross’, quotes Psalm 91.5 ‘Thou shall not be afraid…for the arrow that flieth by day’. Also Atherton, ‘The figure of the Archer in Beowulf and the Anglo-Saxon Psalter’, and Henderson, Vision and Image in Early Christian England, p. 210. Kantorowicz, ‘The Archer in the Ruthwell Cross’, saw the archer as Ishmael, a type of persecutor, an interpretation accepted by Beckwith, ‘A rediscovered English reliquary cross’. Like Shapiro, ‘The bowman and the bird on the Ruthwell Cross and other works’, Morehart in ‘Anglo-Saxon art and the “archer” sceat’ considers the vine-scroll and its inhabitants as purely decorative and fashionable. 33 Whitehurst Williams, ‘Sacred and profane’, note 13, p. 24. 34 Leyerle, ‘The interlace structure of Beowulf’, at p. 14. 35 Niles, Beowulf: the Poem and its Tradition. 36 Alexander, ‘Daniel themes on the Irish High Crosses’, at p. 107; Karkov ‘The Bewcastle Cross’, p. 20, note 22.

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Anna Gannon

Abbreviations

Dümmler, E., Epistolae Merowingici et Karolini Aevi, vol. 1, Monumenta Germaniae Historica (Berlin, 1892).

Bede, HE Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, eds, B. Colgrave and R.A.B. Mynors (Oxford, 1969).

Gannon, A., The Iconography of Early Anglo-Saxon Coinage (6th to 8th Centuries) (Oxford, 2003).

MEC Medieval European Coinage I: The Early Middle Ages (5th – 10th centuries), eds, P. Grierson and M. Blackburn (Cambridge, 1986).

Grierson P., and M. Blackburn, Medieval European Coinage 1: The Early Middle Ages (5th – 10th centuries) (Cambridge, 1986).

MoE The Making of England, eds, L. Webster and J. Backhouse (London, 1991).

Harden, D. B., ‘Glass vessels in Britain and Ireland A.D. 400-1000’ in D. B. Harden, ed., Dark Age Britain (Studies Presented to E. T. Leeds) (London, 1956), pp. 132-67.

T&S Thrymsas and Sceattas in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, 3 vols (London, 1992-4). VG Felix’s Life (Cambridge, 1956).

of

Guthlac,

ed.,

B.

Henderson, G., Vision and Image in Early Christian England (Cambridge, 1999).

Colgrave

Hicks, C., ‘The birds on the Sutton Hoo purse’, Anglo-Saxon England 15 (1986), pp. 153-65. Hill, P. V., ‘Uncatalogued sceattas in the national and other collections’, Numismatic Chronicle 13 (1953), pp. 92-114.

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