There Might Be Bears

There is a question about Ursus arctos in England, the brown bear that was most common in that part of the world: when did it disappear?

The illustrations of bears found throughout the Middle Ages show that people were quite familiar with them. There is little hard evidence of their range and dates, however. The brown bear was widespread in Europe after the last Ice Age, but estimates of when the wild population in England died out range from pre-Roman occupation to late- or even post-Medieval times. The few bones found in caves or other sites do not paint a definitive picture.

It is possible the Romans brought bears with them for the purposes of entertainment, and that some of these were released to breed and expand on the island. Some stones to mark graves from Anglo-Saxon times (420-1066 CE) have bears carved on them, and small carved bears in children's graves suggest they were considered protection for children. But were these evidence of bears in England, or just symbols brought from Northern Europe, where bears were plentiful and part of the culture?

After 1066, the only certain evidence of bears in Great Britain comes from bear-baiting in London—seen in the illustration from a 14th century manuscript—and bears kept at the Tower of London as a zoo, and a medical school in Edinburgh where bones were kept.

In the 12th through 19th centuries, bear-baiting was a "sport" that involved pitting a chained bear against one or more dogs, and sometimes against other animals. In Europe, it was popular in Sweden and Great Britain. It was also common in India, Pakistan, and Mexico.

The arena for it was called a "bear garden" or "bear pit": a circular space with a high wall and raised seating outside of it. The bear would be chained by the leg or neck near one end. Henry VIII was fond of watching bear-baiting, as was Elizabeth I; she even overruled Parliament when a bill was introduced to ban bear-baiting on Sundays. Bear-baiting was eliminated by Cromwell's Puritans, but brought back after 1660. It was not long afterward, however, that people in England started to speak out against the cruelty of bear-baiting (also, the cost of importing bears was becoming prohibitive). The Cruelty to Animals Act of 1835 ended it.

Bear symbolism in the Anglo-Saxon culture, mentioned above, is probably seen no more clearly than in the greatest and best-known epic hero of Anglo-Saxon literature, the "predator of the makers of honey." You all know him, but by a different name, so I'll leave you with that riddle until tomorrow.

How the Normans Changed Our Language

Many of you already know about the Norman Invasion of 1066 when William the Conqueror became ruler of England and the Anglo-Saxons within. The intersection of two cultures will always cause linguistic borrowing, no matter how protective one of them may be (even the French say "hot-dog"). When major changes in society take place, we can expect major changes in language.

In truth, the injection of Norman French vocabulary probably amounted to fewer than 1000 words. They were not random words, however, but words whose presence "reflect[s] the ‘superiority’ of the French culture" to use the words of one scholar. Words like noble, dame, servant, minstrel come from French, as do estate, government, duke, madam, sir.

Even outside of the upper classes, the Norman French words introduced in England are still with us in all walks of life and careers.

Thanks to the Norman influence, we gave ecclesiastical terms clergy, friar, prayer, and the word religion itself! In the legal profession, court, crime, judge and justice are used daily. The military still uses general, sergeant, army, regiment, and siege. A pupil can go to an art lesson and sit in a chair to learn about color or ornament. 

True, some of the words came through French ultimately from Latin, but we cannot know that English would have ultimately gained them otherwise. Or would they? There were two major French dialects that influenced English at different times; there was a second influx of Central French vocabulary in the 13th century, further adding to—and maybe confusing?— the English language.

For instance, Latin caballus (horse), led to Norman French cavalier, but Central French chevalier, which is why in Modern English we have not only cavalier and chevalier, but also cavalry and chivalry. Latin canalis (channel) turned into Norman French canal and Central French chanel, so now we have both canal and channel.

Another telling set of Anglo-Saxon vs. Norman French terms comes when we look at livestock. Anglo-Saxon peasants (peasant is French, but from the 15th century) raised cattle and pigs, but when those animals become food and are served at a table, they are dined on by Norman masters as beef and pork.

But these were more subtle changes than some deliberate actions taken by the Normans to show superiority. I'll talk about Norman culture tomorrow, and what they did to "show off."

Alfred the Great

Alfred the Great (848 - 26 October 899) was not the King of England, because at the time there was no unified England. He was king of the West Saxons (Wessex), which covered much of the south of Great Britain.

His father, Æthelwulf, died when Alfred was about 10 years old, and the crown went in turn to three of Alfred's brothers, Æthelbald, Æthelberht and Æthelred, before Alfred was crowned in April 871.

His chief task as king was fighting off invasions by Viking. In 878, after the decisive Battle of Edington against Guthrum, Alfred made an agreement with the Vikings, granting to them northern England, the north-east Midlands, and East Anglia (an area that became known as the Danelaw) in exchange for leaving the rest of Great Britain safe from invasion. Alfred also convinced Guthrum to convert to Christianity, whereupon he was baptized with the name Athelstan.

This attempt at peace did not last. Alfred was forced to deal with more Danish incursions. In 885 there was a raid on Kent, an ally of Alfred in south-east England. The Danes besieged Rochester, whereupon Alfred gathered a large that caused the Danes to abandon Rochester and flee to their ships. A year later, Alfred reoccupied the city of London (which was not as important as it became later), rebuilding the Roman wall and making the city safe for habitation and trade again.

In that same year he was named King of the Anglo-Saxons. Contemporary chronicles claim that all Saxon kingdoms of the time recognized him as ruler. This unification of the Anglo-Saxons did not mean all things were going well. Guthrum-Athelstan passed away in 889, and the uneasy peace that had been brokered between him and Alfred began to dissolve. Alfred's kingdom was about to become embroiled in frequent battle with Vikings again. We'll look at the latter years of his reign tomorrow.

Bee poetry?

I remember the character Queenie in the TV show "Lark Rise to Candleford" (based on the partially autobiographical books by Flora Thompson) speaking to several hives of bees, saying "Bees, bees, your master's dead; I must be your mistress now." The need was to explain to the bees that the person maintaining the hive was gone so that they could mourn properly and then attach to a new owner, not just fly away to seek a new home. The illustration here is "The bee friend" by Hans Thoma (1839-1924). He is speaking to his bees, because tradition holds that the bees must be informed of important events.

Bees were important for wax and honey, and a hive/colony could be kept going for years, with a strong bond developing between the family and the bees. You would not want the bees to have a reason to "swarm" and leave, so keeping them "in the loop" was important. Besides just "telling the bees," you could use a spoken charm to try to keep them.

One such charm was the Lorsch Bee Blessing, written down (we think) in the 9th century in Old High German and used to keep the bees from leaving. Translated, it says:

Christ, the bee swarm is out here!
Now fly, you my animal, come.
In the Lord's peace, in God's protection,
come home in good health.

Sit, sit bee.
The command to you from the Holy Mary.
You have no vacation;
Don't fly into the woods;

Neither should you slip away from me.
Nor escape from me.
Sit completely still.
Do God's will.

There also exists "For a Swarm of Bees," an Anglo-Saxon charm intended to prevent the bees from swarming and going to a new location.

Settle down, victory-women, sink to earth,
never be wild and fly to the woods.
Be as mindful of my welfare,
as is each man of border and of home.

Clearly each poem/charm indicates how important a thriving hive was for the person needing the wax and honey.

The "victory-women" of the first line of "For a Swarm of Bees" is curious. The Anglo-Saxon word is sigewif  and Jacob Grimm (of Grimm's Fairy Tales) and other scholars think it may be drawing a poetic comparison to the valkyries of Norse myth. Perhaps the bees are compared to valkyries because of their weapon (sting) and the way they ride to battle (swarm)?

Speaking of Valkyries, I mentioned one once when discussing the real historical figure portrayed in the 2013 TV show The Vikings. I think the valkyries need a little more explanation.

The Ruthwell Cross

In a part of southwest Scotland that used to be in Northumberland stands a stone cross 18 feet high, the Ruthwell Cross, carved with runic inscriptions and Christian imagery. Anglo-Saxon runes on a work of Christian art are highly unusual, but these runic inscriptions are also significant for their link to poetry.

Some of the runes are lines from the Anglo-Saxon poem The Dream of the Rood, giving us an opportunity to date the poem. The cross dates from the 8th century, which lets us know that the poem must have been well-known enough by then to be considered appropriate for carving.

Sadly, it was smashed in 1642 by Presbyterian iconoclasts. Fortunately, after smashing it, the destroyers left the pieces lying there, enabling a Scottish minister to re-assemble it 1818. Weathering and the destruction has obscured the carvings a little.

Besides traditional vine-scroll designs of leaves and birds, scenes show Mary Magdalene washing Christ's feet, Christ having dominion over the animals, Saints Paul and Anthony breaking bread in the desert (that one has a carved inscription that makes it clear), the healing of a blind man from the Gospels, and more.

The Ruthwell Cross is not completely unique, in the sense that there is another "cross" of similar vintage and style. We will talk about that next.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruthwell_Cross#Runic_inscription

https://www.bl.uk/collection-items/ruthwell-cross

The Staffordshire Hoard Conflict

Some of the pieces from the Anglo-Saxon Staffordshire Hoard.

The largest hoard of Anglo-Saxon gold and silver coins was uncovered in Staffordshire, England in 2009. The 3500 metal pieces added up to 5.1 kilograms of gold and 1.4 kilograms of silver.*

The hoard dates from the 7th century when the area was the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Mercia. The items are all of high quality and appropriate for a military man—swords, helmets, hilts, pommels, buckles, scabbard loops, etc. Commonly, Anglo-Saxon finds include jewelry, cooking vessels, and eating utensils—items related to a household or suitable for a woman. The few items that break this pattern are three crosses. This hoard seems likely to have been the collected possessions of a soldier or military leader who stashed it away for safekeeping and then failed to live long enough to retrieve it.

Another piece of evidence that these were the possessions of a military man is a small golden strip, approximately 7" x 0.6"; it is inscribed with a passage from the Old Testament: "Rise up, Lord, and let thine enemies be scattered; and let them that hate thee flee before thee." [KJV, Numbers 10:35]

The Hoard is now on display at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery. You can see more stunning pictures here.

Next, we return to the Tutbury Hoard and talk about, not the finder, but the person who likely lost it.

*The farmer on whose land it was discovered agreed to split the value with the man who found it with a metal detector. They split the £3,300,000 value, but other issues turned them into enemies. You can read about it here.

Why a Boar's Head?

From a feast at the University of Rochester

Most readers of this blog will be familiar with the Boar's Head Carol.

The version we use most often today (there are slight variations, including a version for serving poultry) was recorded in a book of Christmas carols printed in 1521. It has been a popular carol—and a Yuletide event—ever since.

At least one scholar links it to a Norse tradition brought to England with the Anglo-Saxons. Sacrificing a boar to Freyr, a Norse god amenable to mortals, was supposed to bring peace and prosperity in the new year.

There's another origin for the choice of a boar, which has a slight hint in a line in the carol itself. In a book about Christmas carols printed in 1868, we can read the following:

Where an amusing tradition formerly current in Oxford concerning the boar's head custom, which represented that usage as a commemoration of an act of valour performed by a student of the college, who, while walking in the neighbouring forest of Shotover and reading Aristotle, was suddenly attacked by a wild boar. The furious beast came open-mouthed upon the youth, who, however, very courageously, and with a happy presence of mind, thrust the volume he was reading down the boar's throat, crying, "Græcum est," [Latin: "compliments of the Greeks"] and fairly choked the savage with the sage.  [Husk, William Henry. Songs of the Nativity Being Christmas Carols, Ancient and Modern]

I have included translations of the Latin lines below. The final one refers to Queen's College in Oxford. Husk was the librarian at Queen's College.

The boar's head in hand bear I,
Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary.
And I pray you, my masters, be merry
Quot estis in convivio [You who all feast in harmony]

CHORUS
Caput apri defero [The boar's head bear I]
Reddens laudes Domino [Singing praise to God]

The boar's head, as I understand,
Is the rarest dish in all this land,
Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland
Let us servire cantico. [serve with a song]

CHORUS

Our steward hath provided this
In honour of the King of Bliss;
Which on this day to be servèd is
In Reginensi atrio. [in the Queen's hall]

Ginger

The European Middle Ages did not like bland food, and used spices extensively—often in combinations we would find odd or downright unappealing (although cinnamon-flavored pork tartlets are surprisingly very tasty). Among the many spices cultivated and grown in Europe was ginger.

Ginger has a long history of use for medicinal and culinary purposes. References to it indicate that it was used thousands of years ago in Southeast Asia, spreading elsewhere as trade routes were established. Ancient Rome procured it from trade with India and valued it greatly. By the Middle Ages, Arab cultures were spreading westward and carrying ginger rhizomes with them to plant and sell.

The name "ginger" [Zingiber officinale] is from the Old English gingifer, the adaptation of the Medieval Latin gingiber, from Classical Latin zinger, the Romans name for the spicy root they used in cooking and healing. (No, this is not the source of the modern term "a zinger," although relating a "zinger" to spiciness is tempting.) One author's history of ginger called it "the Alka-Seltzer of the Roman world." Ginger ale is still considered good for an upset stomach. The University of Salerno, famed for teaching medicine, claimed that a recipe for a happy old age was to "eat ginger, and you will love and be loved as in your youth."

From the 11th century, ginger became more popular as a flavoring agent, used in all sorts of medieval dishes. It became so popular that its import (it would not grow in the cold wet climates of the north, although it can be grown in well-warmed greenhouses, such as the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew) made the value (in 14th century England) of a pound of ginger equivalent to an entire sheep (1 shilling and 7 pence, if you must know).

There is a legend that Queen Elizabeth I created gingerbread men cookies as gifts for the men of her court. That is unverified, but gingerbread definitely was known to the Anglo-Saxons. A recipe for medieval gingerbread can be found here.

Death of a Medievalist

Tolkien in his study

Time to break one of my rules and discuss a 20th century event.

Today is the 41st anniversary of the death of J.R.R.Tolkien. Born 3 January 1892, he learned to read and write by the time he was four, even learning a little Latin from his mother. Among his literary preferences were the fairy stories of Andrew Lang and the fantasy of George MacDonald. In his teens he added the Anglo-Saxon language to his Latin studies. He and his cousins played with inventing languages of their own, a pursuit that would help him lend artistic verisimilitude to his literary masterpiece The Lord of the Rings.

A career in World War I brought him home as an invalid, after coming down with trench fever. In 1920 he became the youngest professor at the University of Leeds, on the strength of his linguistic knowledge. His first academic publication was a Middle English Vocabulary in 1922. A few years later, this was followed by an edition/translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight that is still in print.

Although his focus was more on language than literature, he produced two scholarly works in the 1930s that bridged (what some would call) the gap between the two. His 1934 article "Chaucer as a Philologist: The Reeve's Tale" showed that Chaucer was well aware of dialects and deliberately gave some of his characters a different dialect to make their status plain to the audience

Then, in 1937, he published a lecture (given the year before) called Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics. In it, he argued successfully that the poem Beowulf had value not just as a repository of Anglo-Saxon language and northern European history that could be used to cross-reference other references to history It was also a poem of literary merit. This essay continues to be fundamental to any modern study of the poem. His own translation of the poem was published a few months ago.

Current culture equates his name with a series of blockbuster adventure movies, but long after those have fallen out of favor, his academic work will still be fundamental to future scholarly endeavors.

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.

Anglo-Saxon Riddles

As best we can determine, Symposius was a 4th- or 5th-century author of the Ænigmata, a collection of 100 Latin riddles. The oldest known collection of riddles, they have influenced other riddle-makers through the ages, such as Aldhelm.

Why are we talking about Latin riddles in a post titled "Anglo-Saxon Riddles"? Because without Symposius we might have a more difficult time guessing at some of the Riddles of the Exeter Book. Consider Exeter Book Riddle #61:

#61
A creature came     where many men
sat at council     with wise hearts.
It had one eye     and its ears were two;
it had two feet     and twelve hundred heads,
a back and a belly     and two hands,
arms and shoulders,     one neck,
and two sides.     Say what I’m called.

This might have been more difficult if we did not have Symposius' example #94:

#XCIV
Cernere iam fas est, quod vix tibi credere fas est;
Unus inest oculus, capitum sed milia multa;
Quidquid habet vendit, quod non habet unde parabit?

Now may you see, though not believe, I fear,
One eye and many thousand heads are here,
Whate'er he has, he sells. Whence comes what don't appear?

The answer is the same for both, and I will give it to you in footnotes, along with the answers to the rest. Enjoy.

#18
My garment is darkish.     Bright decorations,
red and radiant,     I have on my raiment.
I mislead the stupid     and stimulate the foolish
toward unwise ways.     Others I restrain
from profitable paths.     But I know not at all
that they, maddened,     robbed of their senses,
astray in their actions     —that they praise to all men
my wicked ways.     Woe to them then
when the Most High holds out     his dearest of gifts
if they do not desist     first from their folly.

#57
I war oft against wave     and fight against wind,
do battle with both,     when I reach to the ground,
covered by the waters.     The land is strange to me.
I am strong in the strife     if I stay at rest.
If I fail at that,     they are stronger than I
and forthwith they wrench me     and put me to rout.
They would carry away     what I ought to defend.
I withstand them then     if my tail endures
and the stones hold me fast.     Ask what my name is. 

#31
I saw a thing     in the dwellings of men
that feeds the cattle;     has many teeth.
The beak is useful to it;     it goes downwards,
ravages faithfully;     pulls homewards;
hunts along walls;     reaches for roots.
Always it finds them,     those which are not fast;
lets them, the beautiful,     when they are fast,
stand in quiet     in their proper places,
brightly shining,     growing, blooming.

*Symposius #94 and Exeter #61: a one-eyed garlic seller
Exeter #18: wine
#57: anchor
#31: rake

Source for Symposius
Source for Exeter riddles

The Other Three Books

The Vercelli Book, opened to "The Dream of the Rood"

The post on The Exeter Book mentioned that it was one of four sources of Anglo-Saxon literature. So what about the other three? One of them, the Nowell Codex, has been mentioned before—but you won't find it in this blog under that name.

The Nowell Codex is named for Laurence Nowell (c.1515 - 1571), who was an antiquarian and early scholar of Anglo-Saxon literature. Where he found the Codex is unknown, but he wrote his name on it. Later it passed into the hands of Sir Robert Cotton (c.1570 - 1631) and became part of the Cotton Library. There it was catalogued on a shelf under a bust of the Emperor Vitellius, which is why we know it as Cotton Vitellius A.xv. It contains the only copy in existence of the epic poem Beowulf.

Another important source of Anglo-Saxon literature is the Vercelli Book. The Vercelli is the oldest manuscript, dating to the late tenth century. Written with very precise penmanship (no doubt by a monk), it contains a collection of religious texts. It sits in the library of Vercelli in northern Italy; Vercelli was a likely stop for pilgrims traveling to Rome and beyond, and its presence there is presumed to have been intended for the use of Anglo-Saxon pilgrims.

Finally, the Cædmon Manuscript is called that because it is presumed (hoped? fantasized?) to have been produced by Cædmon, a man whom legend says went from illiterate monk to brilliant poet after praying for inspiration. (It is more seriously referred to—by scholars who prefer accuracy over legend—as the Junius Manuscript, after Franciscus Junius who first published it in 1655.) It contains religious works which have been named—based on their contents; none of the writings mentioned here have titles—Genesis, Exodus, Daniel, and Christ and Satan.

Each of these deserves its own time in the spotlight, but they will have to wait for another day.

The Exeter Book

"The Wanderer" in the Exeter Book

The Exeter Book was mentioned as the source of two poems about St. Guthlac. It holds much more than that, however. Of the four manuscripts we have of Anglo-Saxon literature, the Exeter Book is the largest collection in existence of Anglo-Saxon poetry, including all the Anglo-Saxon riddles we have (but one), and several poems that survive nowhere else.

The original date of composition is unknown, but it is assumed to have been produced as part of the Benedictine revival in the 10th century, when Benedictine monasteries strove to record and preserve manuscripts of all kinds.

Its existence can reliably be traced to the will of Bishop Leofric (1016 - 1072), who left it to the library of Exeter Cathedral in 1072 along with the rest of his impressive (for the time) collection. Exeter was one of the largest scriptoria in Leofric's lifetime, where manuscripts were created and copied, so it is surprising that this particular manuscript seems to have been so abused.

Several pages at the beginning are believed missing along with the cover. Several pages are scored as if the book was used as a cutting board. One reader of the book clearly set his drink down on the page, leaving a stain, and several pages at the end of the book show burn marks.

The Book contains religious texts; not just the aforementioned Guthlac A and B, but also poems on Christ, Judgment Day, Soul and Body, and The Lord's Prayer. It also has examples of Anglo-Saxon culture in poems such as "The Wanderer," "The Seafarer," "Deor," and "The Wife's Lament." As well it contains over 90 riddles whose answers are usually mundane things, but some of which engage in double entendres, such as the following, whose answer is dough:

I have heard of a something-or-other, growing in its nook, swelling and rising, pushing up its covering. Upon that boneless thing a cocky-minded young woman took a grip with her hands; with her apron a lord's daughter covered the tumescent thing.

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.

Deer Park

Deer park at Kentchurch Court, UK

A royal prerogative in many eras and cultures was to be able to hunt where and when the ruler wished. From at least Anglo-Saxon times forward, England had deer parks for the convenience of the ruling class.

Deer parks were often constructed with a bank topped with a pale, or fence. Inside the bank was a ditch, unenticing to deer. Rather than "corral" the deer, large parks were built in already forested areas where deer were likely to be, and deer leaps were constructed. A deer leap was a gentle ramp that led from outside the park over the bank and down a narrower ramp to the park. The ditch in that area would be much deeper, and the likelihood of deer wandering out again was slim.

The area inside was landscaped to make it suitable for deer and yet still attractive to garden-loving people. Trees were trimmed to make the deer more visible, and yet still give them a place to flee so that the hunt was not boring. Parks could be many miles in circumference—Woodstock, north of Oxford, was seven miles around—or small enough to be visible all at once.

Not all parks were for the use of the king. Other nobles with sufficient land could establish them, but only after being granted a royal license "to empark." This might be done less for sport than for ensuring a steady supply of venison. Because of the number of parks, deer could usually be hunted only by the nobility. Venison, therefore, became essentially a dish for the table of nobility, not a meat one could find at market.

Deer parks took effort to maintain, however, and this probably led to their demise. Henry III's bailiff, for instance, in 1251 had "to remove the bodies of dead beasts and swine which are rotting in the park"—a time-consuming task, given the area to be covered in the several deer parks owned by the king. There was also the trimming of trees to be done, and maintaining the pale. The fact that the deer were hemmed in sometimes led to starvation, especially in winter when they could not range for food. Few deer parks exist today, unless they have been revived by an interest in history.

...or ecology: at least one scholar sees value in studying deer parks now, saying

Where deer parks survive, and even this is rare, they do so as a unique landscape separated in time and function from their origins. They reflect the landscapes of the time and place they were emparked and the changes in economic function and ecology over a long lifespan. ["The Ecology and Economics of Medieval Deer Parks," Ian D. Rotherham, Landscape Archaeology and Ecology, 2007]

1066: The Other New King

Edgar and his sister, St. Margaret, landing at
Wearmouth after their ship was blown off course

Yesterday was the anniversary of the Battle of Hastings, when the forces of William the Conqueror (mentioned many times; see one of them here) defeated the English and killed King Harold Godwinson. The link in the previous sentence for the Battle of Hastings tells more of the story than is generally known, namely that Harold's army had been on the march and fighting for weeks prior to Hastings. Also not generally known is that someone was proclaimed King of England the day after the Battle of Hastings, and it was not William of Normandy.

Edward the Confessor supposedly saw the impending trouble with succession to the throne of England and saw a way out: he had a nephew who was the legitimate heir: Edward (1016-1057), called "the Exile, who had fled to Hungary after being ousted from England after the defeat of his father (Edmund II "Ironside," c.989-1016) by King Cnut. Edward the Confessor had called Edward the Exile back to England to make him his heir. Sadly, the Exile died very soon after his arrival back in England in 1057. History does not record a reason, but it is possible that he was eliminated by the Godwinsons, who were very powerful and wanted to see Harold succeed to the throne.

Edward the Exile had left children behind on the continent, however. Edgar the Ætheling (c.1051-c.1126) was only a teen in 1066, but his youth was no bar to the succession. The witenagemot, the council of wise men that approved the succession in Anglo-Saxon England, met in London and chose Edgar as king the day after Harold fell at Hastings, and sent for him to return to England and lead the opposition to William of Normandy.

The men who chose him, however, chose not to defend their choice and resist William as his forces approached; instead, they negotiated with William for a peaceful turnover of the kingdom. In December, the aristocracy of England met with William at Berkhamstead to submit themselves to his rule and hand over Edgar. William took Edgar and some other English leaders into custody in order to ensure future cooperation.

In 1068, Edgar fled captivity with his mother and two sisters (Margaret and Cristina) to return to Hungary, but their ship was blown off course and landed in the north of England, where they were taken in by Malcolm* III Canmore, king of Scotland. Malcolm married Edward's sister Margaret (who later became Saint Margaret). Edgar had an "on again, off again" relationship with William and an adventure-filled life. He was still alive in 1125 according to William of Malmesbury, so his date of death assumed to be c.1126.

*Malcolm was the model for the character in Shakespeare's MacBeth.

Queenshithe

Plaque in Queenhithe.

One of modern London's 25 Wards, Queenhithe, has an ancient history. It is currently quite silted up, but originally was an inlet (probably made during Roman times) for ships to dock at. The name means "Queen's Dock" after Matilda, the wife of King Henry I, when it was presented to her as a source of income from the import duties gathered from ships landing there. The Agas Map of London (c.1560) also names it "Queenshithe"; the "s" has since been dropped.

The site is much older, however. As mentioned, it was no doubt established in Roman times—excavations have found remains of Roman baths in the area. When King Alfred the Great (849-899) "revived" the City of London around 886. Alfred made a gift of it to his brother-in-law Ethelred, and for a time it was called Ædereshyd, or "Ethelred's Dock."

It was an important landing place for ships bringing grain into the city. The nearby Bread Street has existed under that name at least as far back as the Agas Map. Also, Skinners Lane a block away attests to the import of furs, particularly rabbit skins.

It was designated a Scheduled Ancient Monument in 1973, particularly as it is the only surviving site of a once-Saxon harbor. It is therefore protected from random alterations by construction. Its use as a port, however, has fallen off because of its position upriver from London Bridge, preventing large modern ships from reaching it.

Night of the Mothers

Were the Norse Norns/Fates the "Mothers"?

Among the notable works of the Venerable Bede (c.673-735) is De temporum ratione (The Reckoning of Time). It explains why the length of days and nights changes (Bede knew the Earth was a globe); it explains how the Sun and Moon cause the phases of the Moon, and it addresses the relationship between the Moon and the tides (but doesn't understand how the relationship works). It also includes an explanation of various calendars used by different cultures. The whole point of his scholarship was to explain how to calculate the date of Easter, that "floating Holy Day" that can be held anywhere from 22 March to 25 April.

One of the events he discusses as part of other calendars is Mōdraniht (Night of Mothers), intended to be the start of the New Year:

...began the year on the 8th kalends of January [25 December], when we celebrate the birth of the Lord. That very night, which we hold so sacred, they used to call by the heathen word Modranecht, that is, "mothers night", because (we suspect) of the ceremonies they enacted all that night. [Wallis, Faith (1999). Bede: The Reckoning of Time. Liverpool University Press.]

The 25th of December was notable in the past because it came four days after the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. By the 25th, it was possible to determine even without precise measurements and instruments that the days were growing longer. The 25th therefore became a day of celebrating the returning Sun.

Who were the "Mothers" meant by Bede? We think he was referring to female spirits that had to do with mankind's welfare, and who would be sacrificed to and invoked for bounty for the coming year. Some scholars have linked them to the dísir (singular dís), female spirits that watch over the fate of Norse clans. These would be similar to the Norns of Norse mythology who function like the Fates of Greek mythology.

Bede seems to be reliable on many of the observations he makes of other cultures. Unfortunately, he did not elaborate on the "ceremonies" that he "suspected" were performed on Mōdraniht, and we have no other contemporary source for information on what the celebration entailed.

Wassail!

We don't talk enough about Anglo-Saxon, but the Yule season and Christmas traditions evoke Old English images and customs (at least, in the Western Hemisphere) rather than Latin/Roman culture. So let's talk about wassail.

Wassail was originally spelled Wæs hæl ("Be hale/healthy!" [pronounced with short a, to rhyme with lass gal]). The "modern" spelling became current in the late 12th/early 13th century. It is not only an imperative to be well, but also the drink used to toast each other's health in the bleak midwinter. Ralph Holinshed (1529-1580) in his Chronicles quotes a story from Geoffrey of Monmouth's (c.1100-c.1155) Historia Regum Britanniæ (History of the Kings of Britain):

A great supper therefore was prepared by Hengist at the which it pleased the king [Vortigern] to be present, and he [Hengist] appointed his daughter [Rowen], when every man began to be somewhat merry with drink, to bring in a cup of gold full of good and pleasant wine, and to present it to the king saying; “Wassail.” Which she did in such comely and decent manner, as she that knew how to do it well enough, so as the king [Vortigern] marveled greatly thereat, and not understanding what she meant by that salutation, demanded what it signified. To whom it was answered by Hengist, that she wished him well and the meaning of it was, that he should drink after her,...

Currently, many who make wassail start with red wine, but originally it was based on heated cider or ale with spices and fruit thrown in. Ale or cider mixed with sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg was common. The hot concoction would have toasted bread tossed on it to sop up the liquid for easy consumption. A traditional carol alludes to this:

Wassail! wassail! all over the town,
Our bread it is white and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee.

 If you are interested, there are countless recipes online for wassail. For a modern take on old recipes, Alton Brown is always reliable. A recipe that sticks more to its roots can be found at Nourished Kitchen. For an inauthentic recipe that attempts to make wassail easy for the modern cook, you could do worse than Gode Cookery.

Wæs hæl!

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."