Showing posts with label Æthelbert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Æthelbert. Show all posts

Sunday, November 12, 2023

Saint Bertha

Augustine's mission to Christianize King Æthelbert of Kent in 597 was clearly successful, but we cannot discount the fact that he had help. He did not go alone, of course. Also, he had a powerful advocate when he arrived in Kent: Æthelbert's wife, Queen Bertha.

Bertha was a Frankish princess, the daughter of Charibert I of Paris and Ingoberga, and a granddaughter of Clovis I and Clotilde (who became a saint). Part of the marriage arrangement allowed her to bring a bishop with her, Liudhard. Bertha and Liudhard re-established a church from Roman times just outside of Canterbury dedicated to St. Martin of Tours.

By the time of Augustine's arrival, she and Æthelbert had been married about 20 years, and Christianity was not a new concept for the citizens of Kent. A biography of Bertha (unusual for women to have biographies in that era, but her royal status and connection to the Mission made for an exception) claims that, under her influence, Æthelbert actually requested Pope Gregory to send missionaries. No letters of the time support this, but the anecdote told here that precipitated the mission is considered by many to be a spurious argument of the mission created by Bede.

Bertha's ancestry might also have aided the mission in other ways: Frankish royals gave their support to the mission by adding interpreters and priests to Augustine's group as they traveled. The Franks likely also wanted Britain across the Channel (especially Kent, the closest and most powerful Anglo-Saxon kingdom), to be friendlier to the continent. (On the other hand, Gregory might have been hoping for a distant land to be more allied with the papacy than with the Franks.)

Whatever the case, Gregory wrote to Bertha in 601, complimenting her on her faith and her knowledge. The mission surely had a smoother reception than it might have if Bertha and Liudhard had not created an atmosphere amenable to Christianity for years.

Bertha had two children. Eadbald was King of Kent from 616 until 640. Æthelburh was the second wife of King Edwin, who was converted by St. Cuthbert. The date of Bertha's death is not known. She is commemorated in many places in Kent.

Another whose Christian influence on Kent should be noted is the bishop she brought with her, Liudhard. Let's take a look at this neglected man next.

Saturday, November 11, 2023

Augustine's Mission and Bertha

Augustine (early 6th century - c.26 May 604) was a prior of the Abbey of St. Andrew in Rome when he was chosen by Pope Gregory to travel to Britain to bring Christianity to the Anglo-Saxons.

His chief goal was to convert King Æthelbert of Kent. The illustration shows Kent to be a fairly small area, but Æthelbert was powerful as a bretwalda and was respected and listened to by neighboring kingdoms. He was also married to a Frankish princess, Bertha. This link to the continental kingdom not only helped his influence, it made him open to Christianity, since Bertha was a practicing Christian.

Æthelbert allowed the missionaries to preach and use a church dedicated to St. Martin as a base. Æthelbert did convert, and was probably baptized at Canterbury. We don't know when he converted, but letters dated 601 from Gregory refer to him as "my son" and mention his conversion.

With the king's conversion, a community-wide conversion became possible. Augustine mentions making lots of conversions within a year of his arrival. In 598 Augustine wrote to the patriarch of Alexandria claiming he had baptized more than 10,000.

With many conversions progressing, Augustine sent one of his companions, Laurence, back to Rome with questions for Gregory about organizing the church in Britain: who could marry whom, how to deal with church robbers, consecration of bishops, relations between the churches of Britain and Gaul, etc. Messengers from Rome eventually brought a pallium from Gregory to Augustine, making him a bishop.

One bit of advice was to shift feast days of the locals to days celebration Christian martyrs, and to turn religious sites to shrines for saints.

Obviously the Gregorian Mission worked, and Augustine became the first Archbishop of Canterbury for his efforts. There is someone else who should get more credit for Britain's conversion, however, and that is Bertha. I'll tell you more about her next time.

Tuesday, November 22, 2022

The Battle of Chester

Much is made of Augustine's 597 arrival in Britain to christianize the island, but the Synod of Chester, where he expected to assert authority over local bishops, was a disaster. Native bishops rejected Augustine's attempts to change their ways, whereupon Augustine (according to Bede) promised divine vengeance on them. Bede, and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, claim the Battle of Chester was where that divine vengeance was enacted.

The map is here to help explain the two sides in the battle: Augustine landed in Kent to start his mission with the Anglo-Saxon King Æthelbert, whose wife Bertha was already Christian. The local bishops were Britons, whose version of religion is now referred to as Celtic Christianity, with some different practices from Roman Christianity. The conflict had a religious and ethnic facet.

That interpretation aligns with the two sources mentioned above. They are writing long after the battle, however. If Augustine landed in 597, the Synod of Chester would have taken place fairly soon. Welsh Annals, displaying the usual brevity of such records, lists the Synod in the same year that Gregory died—presumable Pope Gregory I, who sent Augustine). Gregory died in 604. Also, David died. That would be St. David, the estimates of whose death range from 589 to 601.

Archaeological evidence and literary records for the Battle of Chester place it anywhere between 605 and 613. If the battle was a result of Augustine's curse, it certainly took some time to get it started. Also, I would have expected it to be started by a known Christian aligned with Augustine—maybe a converted Æthelbert?—which was not the case: Æthelfrith of Northumbria was the aggressor, who was not known for being a Christian. Also, I am not aware of Augustine making any efforts in Northumbria.

The Battle of Chester, therefore, seems unlikely to have been a direct result of Augustine's promise of divine vengeance. Later chroniclers linked the two events for narrative purposes. That doesn't mean that the Battle of Chester was insignificant or a minor conflict. We'll look at the details and results of the battle next time.

Monday, November 21, 2022

Augustine of Canterbury

The Venerable Bede tells a story of Pope Gregory I in the Roman slave market, seeing some fair-haired and light-skinned slaves from Britain who stood out for their beauty among the dark-haired, olive-complexioned Mediterraneans. Upon being told that they were Angles, he makes a pun on them being called "angels" and decides that he must send someone to preach Christianity to their "Angel-Land." He sends the prior of a Roman monastery, Augustine.

In 597, Augustine reached Canterbury in Kent to preach to its king, Æthelbert, likely because his queen, Bertha, was already a Christian and would give a start on converting her husband. (Bertha was the daughter of the King of the Franks, Charibert I; the arranged marriage, tying two kingdoms together, had the provision that she be allowed to continue to practice Christianity. Gregory likely was aware of her.)

Most history book entries of this event are brief: Æthelbert did convert, Augustine gained the epithet "of Canterbury," he is considered the first Archbishop of Canterbury, and the conversion of England to Christianity was well begun. What is always left is the fact that there was already Christianity in England, and its clerics were wary of Augustine.

Part of Augustine's purpose was to bring Christianity in England in line with that of Rome, especially their calculation of the date of Easter. (This would not approach a resolution until the Synod of Whitby in 664.) The priests and preachers in England were not that keen to be told they were "doing it wrong." A preliminary meeting between the local bishops and Augustine took place at a location referred to as Augustine's Oak. Bede tells us of two meetings, in the first of which Augustine has them bring to him someone who is disabled, and they would see whose prayers were more effective at healing him. Even though Augustine's prayers restored sight to a blind man, he was told they would have to confer with their peers and hold a more inclusive gathering. This would be the Synod of Chester.

Prior to this second meeting, Bede tells us that the Britons sought the advice of a holy hermit as to how they should handle Augustine. He tells them that, when they approach, if Augustine rises to greet them, then they will know him for a humble man who considers them equals.

Augustine did not rise from his seat to greet them; they did not take it well, and the synod fell apart. Augustine called down divine vengeance on them for not agreeing to work with him. Fortunately, such Old Testament curses did not apply in "modern" 6th century England.

...or did they? You'll want to find out tomorrow what happened next.

Tuesday, September 13, 2022

Queen Cynethryth

If Eadburh, wife of Beorhtric of Wessex, was as vindictive as history reports—exiling and executing enemies—what was the catalyst for that behavior? Did she learn from growing up and watching her mother, Cynethryth?

It is true that the queens of Mercia seem to have a notable amount of authority compared to other royal women—in fact, Cynethryth of Mercia, wife of King Offa, even had her own coinage with her image on it!—but was she actually as terrible and bloodthirsty as we are told?

We don't know anything about her or her parentage until 770, when her name appears as a witness on a charter. The similarity of her name to that of the wife and daughters of King Penda (c.606 - 655) of Mercia (Cynewise, Cyneburh, Cyneswith) suggests she was of that line, which would make her a distant relative of Offa.

The Vitae duorum Offarum ("The lives of the two Offas") relates and compares the stories of the 4th or 5th century Offa of Angel and the Offa of Mercia who reigned in the second half of the 8th century and was married to Cynethryth. Originally thought to be composed by Matthew Paris, it is now thought to be an earlier work. Of Cynethryth, the Vitae calls her "Drida," and that she was Frankish and condemned for some crime to be set adrift at sea. She drifts to the Welsh shore where she is found and brought before Offa. She claims to be a member of Carolingian royalty, and Offa puts her in the care of his mother, Marcellina. Offa eventually falls in love and marries her, after which she changes her name from Drida to Quindrida (from Thryth to Cynethryth).

The minting of coins in her likeness tells us a lot about how much authority Offa gave her. In one of his letter, Alcuin refers to Cynethryth as "controller of the Royal household." The marriage seemed to be a steady one. Alcuin, writing to their son Ecgfrith, advised him to follow the example of his parents, and comments on her piety.

What the crime was that originally caused her to be set adrift, we'll never know. Æthelberht II, King of East Anglia and Alfred the Great's older brother (died 20 May 794) is said to have been assassinated by Offa. Later chroniclers suggest that Cynethryth was more involved. This may be simply because of the earlier tale of her coming into the picture as an exiled criminal. There are no specifics or evidence that she was inciting executions or assassinations.

It is not unknown, however, that early kings would kill off even relatives in order to make succession clear and avoid attempts at usurpation of civil war. When Offa's and Cynethryth's only son, Ecgfrith, reigned a mere 141 days, the only heir to the throne of Mercia was a very distant relive, Coenwulf, because nearer relatives had been eliminated by Offa. Alcuin himself acknowledged this, writing:

That most noble young man has not died for his sins, but the vengeance for the blood shed by the father has reached the son. For you know how much blood his father shed to secure the kingdom upon his son. ... This was not a strengthening of the kingdom, but its ruin.

The last reference we have to Cynethryth was in 798, when she was present at the Synod of Clovesho in a dispute regarding the monastery at Cookham. I'll explain her connection to that dispute, and talk about the Synods, next time.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

England's Best Hidden Treasure

First page of the Textus Roffensis.
The water damage is from the early 1700s.
The Textus de Ecclesia Roffensi per Ernulphum episcopum ["The Book of the Church of Rochester through Bishop Ernulf"] has been voted England's Best Hidden Treasure by the British Library. It can currently be found in the Medway Studies Centre in Rochester, England, and online. It is 235 vellum leaves from two manuscripts written in the early 1120s, mostly by a single scribe.

What makes it so special? The subject matter, partly. The first manuscript that comprises the Textus Roffensis is is a copy of the laws during the reign of Æthelbert. By creating this record, we have the earliest known example of an (Old) English document,* since the laws of Æthelbert were assembled by 604. And the English is rare: most Anglo-Saxon documents are in the dominant West Saxon dialect, but the Textus is in the Jutish dialect of Anglo-Saxon.

Æthelbert's laws were referenced by Alfred the Great when he created his own laws, and were mentioned by Bede. The Textus was clearly only one of a number of manuscripts that existed to carry these laws to others.

The Textus also has laws from Æthelbert's successors. Wihtred of Kent (reigned c.690 - 725), who died on 23 April 725, created many laws that gave rights to the Church. For example, the Church was free from taxation, and a bishop's word was considered as good as a king's oath.

One of the reasons the Textus Roffensis is prized by English historians is that its attempt to bring together several of the laws of kings in one document:
represents a new self-conscious attempt at recording an English heritage, after the Norman Conquest. The incomers needed an effective guide to the law of King Edward (i.e. King Edward the Confessor) as the Conqueror and King Henry his son promised to observe it; incomer and native alike needed all the resources of the book to preserve their ancient rights and recent acquisitions. [source]
Compiled as it was in the 1120s, the Textus Roffensis is seen as a reminder to the Norman rulers of what rights and privileges were held prior to the Norman Invasion that they were promised would be respected.

*Technically, it also qualifies as the earliest example of a Germanic language document, so no other German-language records exist from the early 7th century.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

King of the Broken Kingdom

The various Anglo-Saxon kingdoms
Poor Æthelbert! All the attention this blog gives him is in regard to wergild. He deserves attention for more than putting a price on murder and dislodged teeth. But not today. Today we get side-tracked by the title given to him.

According to Bede, Æthelbert (c. 560 – 24 February 616) was the third of eight kings to be a bretwalda. In context, it is clear that it refers to a ruler who holds sway over various Anglo-Saxon kingdoms. The term is used by various authors, but is spelled differently. Remember that, at the time, there would be no universal education that would ensure "standard spelling" among all Anglo-Saxon writers. So some manuscripts describing the same status use Bryten-wealda or Breten-anweald.

Because we are talking about Britain, the reader who knows no Anglo-Saxon might hazard a guess that the bret/bryt- root refers to "Britain" and weald might have something to do with "wield" as in "to wield power." This would be an excellent guess, and satisfied scholars for a long time.

One king however, Æthelstan, was referred to as brytenwealda ealles ðyses ealondes, which is best translated as "ruler of all these islands." If brytenwealda already meant "Britain-ruler" there would be no need for the rest of the phrase referring to "all these islands."

The likeliest source of the bret/bryt- root is now thought to the verb breotan which means "to break" or "to disperse." The origin of the phrase used to describe the kings who rule over more than their local kingdom therefore refers to their rule over the "broken" or widely dispersed territories of the Anglo-Saxons. The resemblance to the word "Brit" is coincidental.

A step closer to a true King of all Britains would wait until the late 9th century with King Alfred the Great.

Monday, February 24, 2014

The Price of a Man (With Details)

King Æthelbert of Kent (c.560-616) was first mentioned here in an explanation of wergild, the price paid by law for a man's death by the killer. This system helped to halt the endless "Hatfield and McCoy" style of revenge killings that could destroy families and tear apart a community.

But was each man worth the same amount? And what were they worth? And what if he wasn't killed, but there was some other transgression that required revenge? Æthelbert had that covered; here are some "items from the menu":

[The bracketed items are my translations of the Anglo-Saxon terms.]
3. If the king drink at any one's home, and any one there do any lyswe [corrupt thing], let him make two-fold bot [compensation].
4. If a freeman steal from the king, let him pay ninefold.
5. If a man slay another in the king's tun [manor], let him make bot with fifty shillings.
6. If any one slay a freeman, fifty shillings to the king, as drihtinbeah [lord's payment].
7. If the king's ambihtsmith [court craftsman], or laadrinc [escort], slay a man, let him pay a half leodgeld [wergild for manslaughter].
8. The king's mundbyrd [protection], fifty shillings.
9. If a freeman steal from a freeman, let him make threefold bot; and let the king have the wite [penalty fee] and all the chattels.
10. If a man lie with the king's maiden, let him pay a bot of fifty shillings.
12. Let the king's fedels [livestock] be paid for with twenty shillings
13. If a man slay another in an earl's tun [earl's/lord's village/manor], let him make bot with twelve shillings.
14. If a man lie with an earl's birele [steward], let him make bot with twelve shillings.
15. A ceorl's [low-class freeman; a churl] mundbyrd, seven shillings.
16. If a man lie with a ceorl's birele, let him make bot with six shillings; with a slave of the second (class), fifty sceatts [coin worth 1/20th of a shilling]; with one of the third, thirty sceatts.
17. If any one be the first to make an inroad into a man's tun, let him make bot with six shillings; let him who follows, with three shillings; after, each, a shilling.
18. If a man furnish weapons to another where there is strife, though no evil be done, let him make bot with six shillings.
19. If wegreaf [highway robbery] be done, let him make bot with six shillings.
20. If the man be slain, let him make bot with twenty shillings.
21. If a man slay another, let him make bot with a half leodgeld of 100 shillings. . . .
31. If a freeman lie with a freeman's wife, let him pay for it with his wergild, and provide another wife with his own money, and bring her to the other.
(...regarding fighting:)
34. If there be an exposure of the bone, let bot be made with three shillings.
35. If there be an injury of the bone, let bot be made with four shillings.
38. If a shoulder be lamed, let bot be made with thirty shillings.
39. If an ear be struck off, let bot be made with twelve shillings.
40. If the other ear hear not, let bot be made with twenty-five shillings.
41. If an ear be pierced, let bot be made with three shillings.
42. If an ear be mutilated, let bot be made with six shillings. 
(...and what I think is my favorite:)
51. For each of the four front teeth, six shillings; for the tooth which stands next to them four shillings; for that which stands next to that, three shillings; and then afterwards, for each a shilling. (See this explained on YouTube.)
It goes on. There are 85 rules of payment in all. You can find them (and more early medieval laws) here.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Price of a Man

Murder has long been considered the worst crime in many societies. Unlike theft, or vandalism, it cannot be paid back. The only "proportional response" for avenging the death of a friend or loved one was to use the Old Testament values of "an eye for an eye" and slay the slayer. This, unfortunately, could lead to a Hatfields and McCoys situation, with death after death on both sides, an escalating cycle of inter-family murders.

But does it have to?

In the early Middle Ages, Anglo-Saxon and Germanic societies found a way to establish, as a community, a way to settle the matter of a death in a legal and tidy system: wergild (Old English wer = "man"* + gild = "tribute/gold").

The practice was first established by Æthelbert of Kent (c.560-616). The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle tells us that Æthelbert held sway over the other Anglo-Saxon kingdoms in Britain. He was the first English ruler to convert to Christianity, and perhaps wergild was his attempt to cool the hot blood of the Anglo-Saxon culture. Within a couple centuries, wergild was being used for theft, rape, breach of peace and many other crimes and misdemeanors. Wergild allowed a community to move on after monetary retribution.

How much retribution? It was different for different areas and times. In Kent in the 8th century, a cow was worth a shilling; a freeman was worth 100 shillings, and a nobleman 300. Elsewhere, a sheep might be worth a shilling, and a nobleman worth 1200 sheep. Only slaves were worth too little to account for.

Exchanging money for people had uses beyond crime. In the later Middle Ages, ransoms for captured prisoners were a regular occurrence, and money was more valuable than eliminating an enemy in a military engagement that was far removed from the emotional setting that might have led to homicide in a different time and place. The 20th century hasn't forgotten about wergild, even if we do not use it widely. You may recall the revelation that the U.S. was using financial compensation for deaths and injuries to civilians in Afghanistan. Wergild also appears in The Lord of the Rings, when Isildur refuses to throw the One Ring into Mount Doom when he had the chance, instead claiming it "as wergild for my father and brother." In his case, however, wergild created a larger problem than it solved.

*Think "werewolf"="man+wolf."