Heavenfield

Queen Cynewise is one of the few early Mercian queens that we have any information on at all. The only direct mention of her name is after Penda’s fall when Bede notes that Ecgfrith was not at the battle of Winwaed because he was a hostage in the care of Queen Cynewise (HE III.24). He would have been less than twelve years old. The casual way Bede mentions her name suggests that she may have been well known. With the hostage left her in care, it suggests that she was Penda’s primary wife. Recall that Penda was pagan and therefore was probably polygamous. Even if he was, it seems unlikely that they were all considered his queen. After Penda’s fall, it seems likely that Cynewise used young Ecgfrith as a bargaining chip to secure her safety and that of at least her daughters.

Elsewhere Bede tells us that Penda drove out Cenwealh of Wessex when he turned out Penda’s sister (HE III.7). Alex Woolf has shown that this sister’s sons eventually succeed to the throne of Mercia after the lines of Penda and Eowa fall from power. This suggests that Cenwealh made the unusual move of turning out his sons as well and that Penda’s dynasty must have integrated them. This is particularly ironic given that Cenwealh is not succeeded in Wessex by a son. It seem likely that Penda had also married a daughter of Cyngisl; that they had at some point exchanged brides. The name Cynewise fits very well with West Saxon naming patterns.

Judging by names, it is possible that she was at least the mother of Cyneburgh, wife of King Alchfrith of Deira and later Abbess of Castor and Cyneswith. It is possible that she was known in the Derian court of her daughter and may have been a contact that fostered the relationship between King Alchfrith/Deira and her probable brother King Cenwealh of Wessex. Even if she returned to her brothers court in Wessex after Penda’s death, she still may have served as a link to her daughter’s court in Deira. Marriages of the daughters of Cynegisl may account for the hints at a close relationship between Deira and Wessex during the long reign of Cenwealh. The previous king Œthelwald may have also been Cenwealh’s nephew, if he mother was Oswald’s queen, a daughter of Cynegisl and sister of Cenwealh.

Given that Wulfhere and Æthelred were youths when Penda died, it is likely that they were her sons as well. Bede tells us they were hid by some nobles so it is unlikely that she was able to buy their safety from Oswiu by exchanging Ecgfrith. Once Wulfhere had secured the throne, it is likely that Cynewise would have returned to Mercia and her probably son’s court. Given that Wulfhere is described as a youth, Cynewise may have had considerable influence on him.

We should also remember that if Cynewise was indeed the daughter of Cynegisl, then she was also the sister of King Oswald’s queen named Cyneburgh is the 12th century Life of Oswald. If their marriage happened in c. 628 when Cynegils and Penda fought and came to an agreement (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle), before Oswald came to the throne, the two rivals would have had queens who were sisters or at least kinswomen. Alternatively, Cenwealh and Penda may have exchanged brides around 642 when Penda came to ascendancy and Cenwealh succeeded his father.

Just as Penda was the last great pagan king, it is almost certain that Cynewise was the last great pagan queen. Penda was one of the most dominant kings of his era, capable of making the kin of his victims his dependents like Anna’s brother Æthelhere and Oswald’s son Œthelwald, and Edwin’s cousin Oswine follow his will and join his campaigns. Yet, Penda fell when two kings, Cadfael of Gwyendd and Œthelwald of Deira, abandoned him within 24 hours of his last battle. His hegemony was more fragile than we might think. Regardless for the 13 years of Penda’s dominance (642-655), Cynewise would have presided over the most powerful court of the day and as we can see with young Ecgfrith, guardianship over young hostages may have been one of her primary duties.

References:

Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Oxford UP, 1994.

On May 20th, 685 King Ecgfrith of Northumbria fell deep in Pictland at Dunnichen to King Bridei, who was somehow his cousin. As far as we know, Ecgfrith’s death at Dunnichen marked the deepest incursion into Pictland that we know of in the Anglo-Saxon period. Given that Ecgfrith invaded to prevent loosing hegemony, it is quite possible that Northumbrian kings, perhaps even Ecgfrith himself, had penetrated further, but we have no record of it.

Major advances were not new to Ecgfrith. Just one year earlier Ecgfrith became the only Anglo-Saxon king to send a raiding party to Ireland bringing back hostages, seemingly boatloads. Ecgfrith’s strikes north and west in Ireland have always struck me as a bit of panic on his part. After 679 his ambitions south of the Humber had been thwarted by Deira’s failure to prevent the conquest of Lindsey by Mercia steaming from the battle on the Trent that year. The loss of his younger brother and heir Ælfwine left Ecgfrith very vulnerable.

Ecgfrith’s state on the eve of his death was an unfortunate end for a king we know more about than perhaps any other before Alfred. We first hear of Ecgfrith when he is only about seven years old; he is a hostage in the care of Cynewise, Queen of Mercia, while Penda campaigns in Northumbria. His father had risked Ecgfrith’s life by defying Penda and then following him back down Northumbria to attack Penda on his way home. It all came out famously since Oswiu managed to kill Penda. Bede doesn’t tell us how Oswiu got his son back but we can imagine since Bede mentions Queen Cynewise we might imagine that she was involved. At the same time, the surviving nobles of Mercia were hiding Penda (and probably her) sons from Oswiu. Cynegisl’s daughter is one of the few women of her generation to be mentioned in the historical record and must have been quite formidable. Ecgfrith isn’t mentioned again until he was about 15 when he was married to the widowed daughter of King Anna of East Anglia; she is of course Æthelthryth. It seems highly likely that Æthelthryth was significantly older than Ecgfrith and we know that she held out for 12 years without consummating the marriage. The marriage was surely an important alliance but she was surely not a first class bride. As treasured an ally as King Anna had been, Æthelthryth was the widow of a minor local lord and the daughter of a dead king. Like all his siblings, Oswiu had disposed of his middle son for political purposes.

Ecgfrith owed his eventual rise to power to the political prowess of his mother. His mother Eanflaed was the second wife of Oswiu, who already had several children when she married him. His son Alchfrith was clearly this favored son until the 660s. He had kept Alchfrith by his side throughout the campaigns of 655 and had earlies married him to Penda’s daughter. After Penda’s death and Œthelwald’s fall, Alchfrith became King of Deira, while Ecgfrith was married to Æthelthryth. Queen Eanflaed successfully used to the church to support herself and her children. Both Queen Eanflaed and her step son Alchfrith realized that Northumbria would have to ally itself with Rome if it were to become a major player in the south and with the continent. To make a long story short, Queen Eanflaed managed to get her way with Oswiu agreeing to accept Rome at the Synod of Whitby, thwarting his sons ambitions to come to power in opposition to his father. Alchfrith later rose in rebellion against his father and disappears from history within two years while his favorite abbot, Wilfrid of Ripon, was in Gaul getting a grand ordination as bishop of York. Ecgfrith’s activity during this time is unknown, but it is quite possible that he became King of Deira after his brother, or at least became his father’s presumptive heir. Some have suggested that Alchfrith’s rebellion had been for fear that his brother would succeed over him, but this really doesn’t feel right.

In 670 Ecgfrith’s father Oswiu died peacefully and he succeeded to the throne. His lack of a heir was on his mind early. As he pushed his new Queen Æthelthryth to consummate their marriage (and give him a heir), he tried to bribe his bishop for support with no success. The young king was clearly in trouble, and he eventually was allowed to divorce her. At her divorce Æthelthryth gave Bishop Wilfrid the prime family estate at Hexham, probably received at her marriage, to Wilfrid for a monastery. This estate was particularly important because it included the site of Heavenfield associated with Ecgfrith’s saintly uncle Oswald and his miracle working cross. The Tyne river valley where Hexham is located was the primarly area of Ecgfrith’s economic development where he planted his primary monastery at Wearmouth and Jarrow and a prime port. Prior to Ecgfrith’s succession, the area between the rivers Tyne and Tees may have been an unstable frontier zone between Bernicia and Deira. Now that both Bernicia and Deira were in the hands of Eanflaed daughter of Edwin’s sons, it was save to begin real economic development there. Prior to Ecgfrith’s reign, only the monasteries of Tynemouth (Deira?) and Gateshead (Bernicia) may have been along the Tyne, but as their names suggest they were gate keepers to their respective kingdoms. Tynemouth has been associated with King Oswine of Deira and obviously controls access to the River Tyne, the primary river along Hadrian’s Wall. It is near the Roman forts that anchored the end of Hadrian’s Wall. On the otherhand, Gateshead controls the former Roman bridge over the River Tyne and access into Bernicia by inland waterways.

Eventually King Ecgfrith remarried to a well connected woman named Irmenburgh. All we know of her is that her sister was an abbess at Carlyle and another sister was Queen of Wessex, but we don’t know the names of either of them. Her name suggests that she may have been related to Kent, but the presence of her sister in Carlyle is odd given that women were usually involved with convents in their home kingdom. Her presence there makes me wonder if she could have been a member of a dynasty that lost power, particularly since Queen Irmenburgh herself also became an abbess within Northumbria during her widowhood. We know that she was astute enough to recognize that Bishop Wilfrid was a threat to King Ecgfrith’s power and became his constant enemy. After Wilfrid’s death she was a powerful enough abbess for Stephan of Ripon to complement her on her transformation as an abbess in his Life of Bishop Wilfrid. Her name is also mentioned the Durham Liber Vitae, even though is first wife St Æthelthryth is not mentioned. Her omission can not simply be because she was on a list of saints somewhere else. St Oswald, a more widely accepted saint when the list was compiled, is listed. It seems more likely to me that St Æthelthryth had powerful enemies in Northumbira, Ecgfrith’s family members bitter over her behavior as queen, which his family probably thought shameful, and of course his second wife who was herself both a queen and abbess within Northumbria. It is now disputed whether the Durham Liber Vitae began at Lindisfarne or Wearmouth-Jarrow, but neither of them are likely to have supported Æthelthryth before c. 705 when Bishop Wilfrid returned to Northumbria and supported her cause as a saint at Wearmouth-Jarrow at least. Trained in the style of Iona, Lindisfarne is unlikely to have supported her ability to leave her marriage or her failure to do her duty in her marriage. We may overestimate how popular St Æthelthryth was in Northumbria because Bede was obviously a fan, but there is no other indication that anyone else in Northumbria really supported her cause for sainthood. The Life of Bishop Wilfrid refers to her in a positive and saintly way, but fails to mention that Bishop Wilfrid was present at her translation and an actual witness to her incorrupt state! The abbots of Wearmouth and Jarrow, who knew how important a heir for Ecgfrith was, may have viewed Æthelthryth’s behavior rather differently than Bede. These abbots would have been keenly aware of what it cost them that Ecgfrith did not have a bodily heir for them to champion and gain the rewards.

King Ecgfrith was also extensively involved in the church within his kingdom. I’ll save this topic for another day. For now, its easy to say that he was an opponent of Bishop Wilfrid of York, and a supporter of St Cuthbert who personally persuaded Cuthbert to accept the position as Bishop of Lindisfarne. He was also critical in splitting Northumbria’s huge diocese into at least three — Lindisfarne, Hexham, and York. He also had a mutually helpfully relationship with Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury. This relationship may have been fostered by Theodore’s old guide to England and Ecgfrith’s trusted counselor, Abbot Benedict Biscop of Wearmouth-Jarrow. Recall that Theodore had Benedict Biscop as his abbot in Canterbury for his first year or so in England.

As a warrior Ecgfrith was aggressive but with the exception of his odd invasion of Ireland, he only attacked to hold what was already his. I think he would have been very stressed to maintain the huge hegemony of his father Oswiu. Ecgfrith was clearly very concerned to prevent the usual pattern of hegemony collapsing with the death of a major king. Early in his career he won a major victory over King Wulfhere of Mercia to retain Lindsey and presumably keep Mercia under his hegemony. The loss along the River Trent may have been primarily led by his teenage brother King Ælfwine whose territory of Deira may have been responsible for the Mercian border and control of Lindsey. The history of warfare between these kingdoms and the fact that they both must have retrained substantial power caused Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury to intervene and broker a peace treaty that set the border between the two kingdoms permanently. Ecgfrith lost control of Lindsey, a mighty blow, but was given a large weregeld for the death of his brother that allowed him to save face and perhaps compensate the families of the warriors who were lost in the battle. After Ælfwine’s death Ecgfrith appears to have seized direct control over Deira and this would have allowed him to reward loyal retainers with prize appointments in Deira. Ecgfrith’s lack of a heir now became acute and his retainers would have begun positioning themselves to reap the rewards normally reserved for the king’s kin.

Over his fifteen year regin, Ecgfrith personally led three campaigns into Pictland. The first two were early in his reign to establish his hegemony after his father’s death. It is possible that after the last one of these victories that he helped his cousin Bridei son of Beli come to the throne of the Picts. Its unclear exactly how Ecgfrith and Bridei were related but the Historia Brittonum clearly calls them cousins, specifically sister’s sons. Alex Woolf’s suggestion that Bridei’s mother may well have been an older daughter of Edwin of Deira by his first wife, Cwenburg of Mercia makes sense. Legend claims that Bridei was the son of King Beli of Strathclyde and a marriage between a king or prince of British Strathclyde and Edwin of Deira would have been a likely method of ensuring Edwin’s hegemony over the north and they may have been eager allies intent on preventing Æthelfrith of Bernicia’s sons from returning to the throne of Bernicia. Either way, Bridei compiled a string of military victories in Pictland before he rebelled against his cousin Ecgfrith. They met at Dunnichen deep in Pictland and Bridei used his knowledge of the terrain to lead Ecgfrith into a trap where the Northumbrians were slaughtered. The battle scene on the stone shown is believed to refer to the battle of Dunnichen with Ecgfrith’s death in the last scene.

Bridei retained hegemony over the North for the rest of his life, possibly including over Northumbria. Ecgfrith was succeeded by his half-brother Aldfrith who was residing on Iona at the time of the battle. This brings up a very important point, that Abbot Adomnan of Iona was a connection between the two winners of Dunnichen, Bridei of Pictland and Aldfrith. Both were considered good friends of Adomnan. It is quite possible that they knew each other through Adomnan and possibly not a coincidence that late sources (Simeon of Durham, if I recall correctly) record that Ecgfrith was buried on Iona. This is a most unlikely place for Ecgfrith to be buried, unless his body was taken there by Bridei — to the place where Ecgfrith’s half-brother Aldfrith was living a life of scholarship.

As long as this post has gotten, this is only a surface sketch of Ecgfrith. He is a fascinating king worthy of a more purposeful biography. Ecgfrith had been a very successful king with a fifteen year reign, only 40 years old when he died in battle. He had inherited a near impossible task at about age 25 and died with his expansive hegemony basically intact until the day of his death.

Beware: Arbitrary definitions to follow

Technically speaking the words kingdom and realm are interchangeable. As I work on these posts on lost kingdoms it occurred to me that I have a few planned posts on entities that really fall in a gray zone, either because we have little proof they existed or because their location is unfixed. So what is the right term for them? Proto-kingdom? Pseudo-kingdom? Principality is no better. District really isn’t either since district implies a regularized grid or plan. Petty kingdom is just weird and one of the entities I’ll be writing about wasn’t petty, if it existed. So realm is the term I’ve decided on.

A realm refers to an area ruled by a king, perhaps passed on to his successor, or not. There were certainly many transient realms. Indeed, one of the differences between realms and kingdoms are that kingdoms tend to remain together even when the whole dynasty changes.

A kingdom may be absorbed into a larger kingdom, but even then it tends to retain its organizational structure and identity. Lindsey remained a distinct unit even when completely assumed by either Northumbria or Mercia. Its still a district or county today.

Some realms had a core kingdom in addition to a swollen tribute area. “Northumbria” is a realm until 679 when Ecgfrith assumed direct rule over Deira for the final time and the southern border was set by arbitration. Bernicia is the core kingdom of the realm of Northumbria. Even then the term Northumbria probably didn’t consistently exist. It king would have simply been called King of the Angles/English in the north.

So comments or suggestions?

From Bede’s History III.12 (McClure and Collins, p. 129)

“It is related, for example, that every often he [King Oswald] would continue in prayer from matins to daybreak; and because of his frequent habit of prayer and thanksgiving, he was always accustomed, whenever he sat, to place his hands on his knees with the palms turned upwards. It is also a tradition which has become proverbial, that he died with a prayer on his lips. When he was beset by the weapons of his enemies and saw that he was about to perish he prayed for the souls of his army. So the proverb runs, ‘May God have mercy on their souls, as Oswald said when he fell to the earth’”

This passage has attracted the most attention for his palms up posture. I’ve read here and there some odd talk about it reflecting pre-Christain postures. Nonsense… look around your local church and then look at ancient murals and art and you will see palms up postures throughout.

What has attracted my attention is the claim that he prayed continually from matins to daybreak. This is one sleep deprived king! Did he have insomnia? Matins is supposed to be the midnight office and daybreak is lauds. Obviously, matins can’t be really midnight. In reality various monasteries and churches set matins at various times of the night. It is likely that each monastic system had a schedule set for daily prayer, and it was practiced by members of the house(s) where ever they were. It seems likely that Oswald followed the schedule from Lindisfarne, led by a personal priest. This also suggests that the hours of the office were done somewhere within Bamburgh’s enclosure so that it was easily accessible to Oswald.

It is one of the mysteries of Oswald’s reign that his personal priest is not mentioned. We know that his brother Oswiu had personal priests — Utta, later Abbot of Gateshead, and Eadhead, later Bishop of Lindsey– and his son Oethelwald had Caelin, brother of bishops Cedd and Chad, as his personal priest. All of these priests were from the Lindisfarne family, and as the founder of Lindisfarne it is almost certain that Oswald would have had an Irish priest by his side. There wouldn’t have been any English priests trained until at the very earliest late in Oswald’s reign. Given that Bede is promoting the close relationship between Oswald and Bishop Aidan I suppose its not surprising that his personal priest, who really couldn’t be Aidan, isn’t mentioned.

One of the things this calls to mind is that first of all, Oswald was surely, remarkably pious. After an evening in the hall with his court, getting up before dawn for prayer is impressive. It may also be the only time during the day when a king could quietly think. Once the rest of the court awakes, the day’s business will begin and by evening his hall will be full of his retainers. It also occurs to me that this formal position, with palms turned up, indicates that Oswald was a rather impressive, kingly figure otherwise these odd details would not have been remembered.

This also brings up Oswald’s understanding of Latin. How many kings would go daily to hear the office if they couldn’t understand it. Granted, he may have just wanted to be present when what he considered to be sacred rites were preformed and to pray silently to himself. Still it all suggests quite a lot of formation on Oswald’s behalf done by Iona before he returned and afterwards fostered by the monks of Lindisfarne.

This month’s lost kingdom is Gododdin in southern Scotland (early medieval northern Northumbria). This post just gets longer and longer and still seems incomplete, so hopefully it will do to give you a flavor of this lost kingdom.

Gododdin is the one British kingdom that appears to have been conquered and annexed into Bernicia/Northumbria under King Oswald and his brother/successor King Oswiu. The Annals of Ulster records a siege of Edinburgh in 638, the middle of Oswald’s reign. It doesn’t record who won or if anyone was killed. Edinburgh would have been an impressive fortress and submission may have been as good as it got. Within months of Oswald’s death on 5 August 642, another battle was fought at Strathcarron east of Edinburgh between King Owain of Strathclyde and King Domhnall Brecc of Dalriada. The poem Y Gododdin records a victory stanza for Owain singing of Domhnall’s death.

“I saw a war-band, they came from Pentir [in Dalriada], and splendidly they bore themselves around the beacon. I saw a second, they came down from their homestead: They had risen at the word of Nwython’s grandson [Owain ap Beli ap Nwython]. I saw stalwart men, they came at dawn, and crows picked at the head of Dyfnwal Frych [Domhnall Brecc]” (B text, Y Gododdin, Clancy, p. 114)

The Annals of Ulster then record a batte between Oswiu of Bernicia and the Britons immediately afterwards. Given the breath of Bernician battles we don’t know where these Britons were, but I believe this was a battle between Bernicia and Strathclyde over control of Gododdin. I think Oswald’s death set off a contest between all the major northern powers — Bernicia, Dalriada, and Strathclyde — over the prime territory of Gododdin controlling the entire southern shore of the Firth of Forth. There is no evidence that Gododdin itself was involved in deciding its own fate, suggesting that the native dynasty of Gododdin ceased to be under Oswald or earlier. It is possible that Gododdin was already the territorial possession of another kingdom, possibly the Britons of Strathclyde/Dumbarton. Dalriada is also a possibility as Aedan mac Gabran was credited with a victory over Manau Gododdin, the northern region of Gododdin, around Stirling.

If Penda’s last seige of King Oswiu is correctly placed at Stirling (Urbs Iudeu), then the Gododdin would have been fully under Oswiu’s control by 655. Iudeu is the British name for the Firth of Forth. It is interesting to note that in Koch’s translation of Y Gododdin, he does find Oswiu’s name (Oswyd) in one of the elegies.

“The man dispatched to Catraeth with the day drank a mead feast at midnight. The lamentation of the assembled hosts was sorrowful for the mission compelled up the firey hero who died. None attacked Catraeth whose preparing for battle [while carousing] over mead drinking had been so mighty. None so completely drove off [?]Oswiu from the stronghold of Eidyn [Edinburgh]. Tudfwlch, [while he remained] for a long time away from his land and his settlements used to slay Saxons every seventh day. His maniliness will endure as a legacy through the memory of him amongst his splendid comrades. Wherever Tudfwlch — strength of the tribesmen — arrived, the place of spear shafts would be a bloody enclosure– Cilydd’s son [? or son of the Caledonian]” (Y Gododdin, A.13; Koch, p. 65)

It should be noted that Catraeth is also mentioned in a poetic elegy of Cadwallon of Gywnedd, who was slain by Oswald in 634. Makes me wonder if we have the dating of Catraeth so completely wrong. Needless to say if this is a reference to some action at Catterick that Cadwallon took part in c. 633-634, it is possible the same hero defended Edyn in 638. It is also possible that Oswiu was a major participant in the battle of 638 under his brother and his name is remembered as the final conqueror of Gododdin in his own reign.

From Oswiu’s reign it appears to be securely under Bernicia’s control. The Anglican diocese of Abercorn was in northern Gododdin to serve Pictland, so probably the edge of secure English territory in the early 680s. It seems likely that the majority of the former kingdom of Gododdin was securely in the diocese of Lindisfarne and the monastery of Coldingham was securely in Gododdin territory. Many of the battles with the Picts in the late seventh century were probably to protect Gododdin, now fully incorporated into Bernicia from Pictish encroachment.

Roman Times

In Roman times this region, which may have also extended into what we now call Bernicia, was heavily settled. It was always a frontier region of the Roman empire and only under direct Roman control when the empire was extended to the Antonine Wall. There are numerous hill forts and major settlements throughout the region. Traprain Law was one of the longest occupied hill forts and from it was found the Traprain Law hoard, mostly Roman silver. It is thought that the British of the Gododdin were alternatively employed by the Romans and raiders of Roman territory as suited the times. Most of the great silver neck chains with Pictish symbols discovered have been found in the territory of the Gododdin. It is thought that these neck chains may have been inspired by Roman uniforms. Other hillforts that may have been within the area considered to be Gododdin include hill forts at the modern places of Edinburgh, Dunbar, Coldingham, Bamburgh, Yeavering (and Yeavering Bell). There are also Pictish symbol stones in the Gododdin territory, although these may have come in the post-Roman times.

In some interpretations, Roman and immediately post-Roman Gododdin was a huge coastal kingdom that incorporated three territories: Manau (sometimes called Manau Gododdin, near Stirling), Lleuddinyawn (Lothian, Lleu’s territory), and Berneich (Bernicia). By this theory, Berneich/Bernicia was an area with some Anglican federates/mercenaries who settled just north of Hadrian’s Wall, eventually taking over that territory (perhaps in Ida’s time). Then by Oswiu’s time the territory of old Gododdin had been reunited into an expanded territory of Bernicia/Northumbria.

Votandini -> Gododdin -> Lothian

The kingdom of Gododdin does survive today in the regional name Lothian. Linguists seem to accept the continuous development of the Roman era name Votandini to Gododdin and eventually to Lothian. Given that ‘dd’ in Welsh is the ‘th’ sound its really only shortened with the V-> G-> L transition.

Y Gododdin elegies

Y Gododdin is a collection of about 300 elegies that claim to be all by one person named Aneirin. It reads like a collection of elegies remembering the recently fallen. The overall frame claims that the elegies are all from the battle of Catraeth (probably Catterick) sometime in the 5-6th century. However, linguists are sure that it has at least three phases of elegies — an original level from Gododdin, second level from its transmission to Strathclyde/Dumbarton (where the Domnall Brecc death notice is added), and finally to Gwynedd where it was finally preserved in the Book of Aneirin. Even the original layer from Gododdin probably includes elegies from a wider period of time beyond just one battle at Catraeth. I’ll give you a few of these elegies here from Koch’s translation to give you a feel for them.

“The rock of Lleu’s tribe, the folk of Lleu’s mountain stronghold at Gododdin’s frontier; the frontier was held. Counsel was taken, storm gathering; the vessel from over the Firth of a warband from over the Firth. [A man] who nurtures warbands came to us out of Din Dywyd to be an obstruction to the king’s warband. The shield of Grugyn before the bull of battle had a broken boss. [B2.24=B1.3=A.48, p. 3]

It was usual for him to be mounted upon a high-spirited horse defending Gododdin at the forefront of the men eager for fighting. It was usual for him to be fleet like a deer. It was usual for him to attack Deira’s retinue. It was usual for Wolstan’s son — though his father was no sovereign lord — that what he said was heeded. It was usual for the sake of the mountain court that sheilds be broken through [and] reddened before Yrfai Lord of Eidyn. [B2.28, p. 9]

More than three hundred of the finest were slain. He struck down at both the middle and the extremities. The most generous man was splendid before the host. From the herd, he used to distribute horses in winter. [Gorddur] used to bring black crows down in front of the wall of the fortified town — though he was not Arthur– among men mighty in feats in the front of the barrier of alder wood — Gorddur. [B2.38, p. 23]

Wearing an ornament of rank, in the front line’s array, armed in battle’s uproar, before the day[of his fatal battle] he was a hero in deeds, a centurion counterthrusting against armies. Five fifties would fall before his blades [there fell of men of Deira and Bernicia] twenty hundred laid waste at one time. Rather than to a wedding rite, his flesh went to wolves, rather than to an altar, his victory spoils to the crow, rather than a proper funeral, his blood flowed the ground, [all] in exchange for mead in the pre-eminent seat with the assembled hosts. For as long as there are singers, Hyfaidd will be praised. [A.5, A.1, p. 57]“

Legends of Gododdin

The Gododdin takes its place in early British lore in several enduring legends. It is traditionally considered the home of King Lot of Lothian in Arthuriana. His original name was Lleuddun Luyddog of Dinas Eidyn and is said to have been buried at the ancient hill fort of Dunpelder Law. The main ancient fortress of Traprain Law is also said to be his seat. The name Lothian is said to derive from his name Leudonia, but of course as a mythical/legendary figure it was the other way around. He is also connected with the Welsh god Lleu.

Like many early welsh figures, he is said to be the maternal grandfather of several saints. According to the Bonedd y Sant, his grandsons include:

• St Kentigern (Mungo) by his daughter Denw/Thaney and Owain son of Urien Rheged
• St Lleuddad and others by his daughter Tenoi, wife of Dingad
• St Beuno by his daughter Peren, wife of Bugi

He is mentioned in a the oldest fragmentary life of St Kentigern as a half-pagan king who is killed by a swineherd. Jocelin’s Life of Kentigern claims that when Thaney was found to be pregnant with Kentigern, his maternal grandfather tries to kill his daughter by throwing her from the cliff of Dunpelder. When she survives this she is set adrift in the Forth of Firth/sea where she landed at Culenros where St. Sevanus was living. She gave birth and St. Sevanus baptized them both. St Sevanus raised and educated Kentigern until he moved to Glasgow, where he founded a monastery and later became bishop. Kentigern is the patron saint of Glasgow.

After Geoffrey of Monmouth, as Lot of Lothian he is variously King Arthur’s uncle or brother-in-law. Exploring the development of the character Lot of Lothian is beyond this post, but here are his origins…

Other various legends of Gododdin include the origins of Cunedda, founder of the first dynasty of Gwynedd, is said to have come from Manau Gododdin, a northern section that wraps around the head of the Firth of Forth, to North Wales (Gwynedd). This claim is first made in the Historia Brittonum from c. 825. It seems likely that this whole legend has been greatly influenced by the origins of King Merfyn, founder of the second dynasty of Gwynedd, on the Isle of Man (Manau). As the Historia Brittonum was written in his time, placing the founder of the first dynasty of Gwynedd in another Manau could have helped justify his conquest. If it unclear if the Scottish region of Manau (where Aedan mac Gabran wins a battle) was ever really part of Gododdin or if this is a later creation of Gwynedd.

Sources:

Thomas Owen Clancy, ed. The Triumph Tree: Scotland’s Earliest Poetry AD 550-1350. Canongate, 1998.

Peter C Bartrum. A Welsh Classical Dictionary: People in History and Legend up to about AD 1000. National Library of Wales, 1993.

John T Koch, ed and trans. The Gododdin of Aneirin: Text and Context from Dark-Age North Britain. University of Wales Press, 1997.

Œthelwald son of Oswald has always been a figure of controversy. Everything we know of him comes from Bede’s Ecclesiastical History. Beginning with Bede himself memories of Œthelwald have been viewed in slanted hindsight. Bede has his known biases for a united Northumbria (Bernicia + Deira), for which Œthelwald is a spoiler, and against Mercia in general and Penda in particular. We in turn too often share Bede’s biases and look back with a hindsight colored by not only Northumbria’s golden age but norms of later medieval expectations. We can not forget that a united Northumbria was not a real reality until the reign of Ecgfrith (670-685) and really only cemented in the long, peaceful reign of Aldfrith (685-704). I’ve discussed the process of Northumbrian ethnogensis before (here and especially here).

After a lot of thought, I don’t think that Œthelwald was anyone’s puppet. I don’t think he was ‘placed’ there by anyone. I do think that he was a compromise candidate whom both the Deiran nobles and Oswiu of Bernicia could live with. This suggests that the Deiran nobles had likewise accepted Oswald as King of Deira, as the nephew of Edwin. Oswald and his son Œthelwald were the grandson and great grandson of King Aelle, Edwin’s father. Oswiu on the other hand, had no Deiran blood that we know of; I have argued against his being the son of Acha sister of Edwin elsewhere. Oswiu shows every indication of taking direct control when he could, as he did in Mercia after Penda’s death and probably in Lothian early in his reign. The fact that he faced ‘rebellion’ by three successive kings of Deira– Oswine, Œthelwald and his own son Alchfrith– really suggests to me that the nobles/ealdormen of Deira really never accepted Oswiu has their king. After his son’s rebellion, Oswiu appears to have taken direct control over Deira for about only the last five years of his 28 year reign.

There have been some speculations about Œthelwald’s age and mother. If he was the son of Cynegils’ daughter then he would have only been about 17 when he became king in about 651, but I have argued elsewhere that it is quite possible that he was born during Oswald’s exile. Oswald was about 30 years old when he came home to Bernicia and could have easily had several children, as his brother Eanfrith already did and as Edwin had during his exile.

The one thing we do know for sure about Œthelwald is that he had close ties to the church of Lindisfarne, as we would expect for Oswald’s son. We know that the four brothers, Cedd, Cælin, Cynebill, and Chad were all closely tied to the church in Deira. Cælin was the personal priest of Œthelwald and his family and he mediated the donation of Lastingham to his brother Bishop Cedd. It is interesting that Bede claims that Œthelwald mainly came to know Cedd through his brother Caelin, since as a pupil of Aidan’s you would think that Œthelwald would have known him. Yet, Cedd had long been a missionary away from Bernicia and Deira, so it is possible that Oethelwald and Cedd had not known each other well before 651. I do think that is likely that the church of Lindisfarne helped Œthelwald come to the throne of Deira. They certainly could have helped the Deiran nobles contact Œthelwald if he was not in Deira before Oswine’s death (and I think it is unlikely he would have been an ally of Oswine, unless he had a major falling out with his uncle before 651). After Oswine’s murder and Aidan’s death heartbroken over Oswine, Lindisfarne would not have been very high on Oswiu or his sons, and supporting a son of Oswald would have seemed like the best option.

Anyway, Œthelwald is remembered diplomatically as the patron of Lastingham where he intended for himself and his family to be buried. The brothers of Lastingham must have stressed this to Bede for it to be included in the History. Bede doesn’t tell us where Œthelwald was buried but it is possible that some of his family was indeed buried at Lastingham. The stress on Œthelwald’s family does suggest that he was old enough to have a family. Alternatively it could just be Lastingham’s way of stressing that they would have been a major monastery for this king, as York was for Edwin, Whitby was Oswiu & Edwin, Wearmouth-Jarrow was for Ecgfrith, and probably Lindisfarne for Oswald (and Aldfrith?).

The last we hear of Œthelwald is during Penda’s last campaign into Bernicia in the fall of 655. Bede tells us that Œthelwald had acted a guide for Penda’s army into Bernicia and later refused to take part in the battle of Winwæd on November 15th, 655. For this Bede branded him a traitor, a claim surely influenced by Bede’s desire to project a united Northumbria. Accompanying Penda’s army into Bernicia would likely have been enough for a Bernician patriot to consider him a traitor, though it is perhaps hard to see how he could have refused Penda. It would have been suicide for a single king to have stood in the way of Penda’s army. We already knew from Oswine’s encounter with Oswiu that Deira did not have an imposing enough army to stand up to Oswiu’s forces, so it is unlikely that they could have faired better against Penda’s massive Southumbrian-British coalition. His decision to pull his army out of the fray at Winwæd may speak as much to the the shock of Oswiu’s attack as anything else. Was it a moment of indecision or had Penda’s alliance begun to fray enough that he would not side with him? Penda’s army must have still been very formidable for Œthelwald not to try to switch sides and fight for his uncle. It also tells us that Œthelwald may have been unwilling to fight against his own kinsmen (as Æthelhere of East Anglia probably did against his brother Anna). Bede tells us that the river in flood was a major factor in Oswiu’s victory as Mercians and their allies drowned trying to escape and we might also guess that an early death of Penda may have contributed to the loss. If the dominant king of a grand army was killed early, then military discipline probably would have fell as each unit would only then be concerned about its escape.

Œthelwald’s fate is left unknown. We don’t hear that he was executed, as Lastingham might have remembered. I doubt they would have been ashamed of another Deiran king who died for not fighting like Oswine. Indeed, it would have further vilified Oswiu in line with Deiran sympathies. It seems likely to me that Iona would have recorded Œthelwald’s death if it had occurred at Winwæd, as they recorded Penda’s death (Annals of Ulster). I tend to think that not hearing anything about his fate may mean that he was exiled. The mysterious fates of King Oswiu’s nephew Oethelwald and his son Alchfrith, who also disappears after a rebellion, are certainly two on my list of ‘things I would like to know’!

As part of my research on the ‘Prayer Book of Æthelwald’ in the Book of Cerne, I found this recent article by Michelle Brown:

Michelle P Brown. (2007) “The Lichfield Angel and the Manuscript Context: Lichfield as a Centre of Insular Art” Journal of the British Archaeological Association. 160(1): 8-19.

I thought that I would share some of this since I imagine many people are as eager to hear more about the Lichfield Angel as I am. Here is a picture of it from the Lichfield Cathedral website. Here is a link to the Angel Project Site with all kinds of info on its conservation etc. including a reconstruction of its paint.

The angel is on a limestone slab that was the corner of a structure, probably a house shrine similar to the St Andrew’s shrine in Pictland. It is 2.5 ft high and has traces of pigment left. The Litchfield Cathedral refers to a palate of white, red and black outlines, but Michelle Brown asserts that the colors are white, purple, and black outlines. The reconstruction shows that the angels clothing and the outline of the nimbus were gold leaf. I strongly recommend the reconstruction link above (which looks rather red to me, though red and purple can be a fine distinction). Its quite handsome when the reconstruction is complete. Michelle Brown suggests that the drilled eyes once held glass inserts. It is believed that the angel is one half of an Annunciation scene on the shrine of St. Chad. The Lichfield Cathedral has been devoted to St. Mary since the time of Bede. The Lichfield Angel has been dated to c. 800 (775-825), around the time that Lichfield Cathedral was the seat of a third Archbishop for England. The cathedral was heavily patronized by Offa of Merica (787-802), who created his own archbishop, and by his successor Coenwulf. In Coenwulf’s time, Lichfield was demoted to the status of a regular bishop to please the pope who wanted Canterbury to retain its historic domain, but he offset this demotion with further patronage.

What she is basically arguing is that the styles of the Lichfield Gospel, the Lichfield Angel and the Book of Cerne (Prayer Book of Aethelwald) all belong to the same cultural context. She is basing a lot of this on the color and design of the angels wings.

“The closest parallel to the articulation and colouring of the Lichfield angel is the eagle symbol of St John in the Book of Cerne…The subtle shades of purples and white, with black definition, are similarly handled in both works, as is the treatment of the plumage. The Lichfield angel’s Hellenistic face and hair are also echoed in the busts of the evangelists that accompany their symbols in the Book of Cerne, whilst in the latter symbol of St. Matthew, the Man, is depicted as an angel with similar if debased and simplified treatment of its wings and clinging drapery.” (p. 16)

Well, I just happened to check out Michelle Brown’s book on the Book of Cerne (1996) from the library yesterday and it has full color plates of the four evangelists. From the photos the palate looks like reddish-brown, blue, gold and white. The first thing that struck me about the miniatures in the Book of Cerne is the red-white-blue palate and the eagle has an ‘early Amercian’ style (that I remember from my parents 1960s decor). Stick a couple arrows and olive branches in its talons instead of a book, and it would look like the eagle seal. Quite a patriotic looking bird with its red and white striped wings, but I diverge from medieval programming. So anyway, these wings don’t remind me that much of the Lichfield Angel… for one thing the wings in the book of Cerne have a scalloped upper edge and again the lower part of the wings are stripped in alternating red/purple and white. The tops of the wings that are most like the Lichfield Angel also match the plumage on the body of the eagle. The most striking aspect of the evangelist miniatures is that they are beardless, but they don’t have the massive firm jaw of the angel. One of the more remarkable things about the Lichfield Angel above is the anatomic definition with gold clothing that almost looks more like armor. Brown suggests (p. 15) that the Lichfield Angel is “of the highest order”, perhaps Michael but the paradise plant and intimate gestures are more common in Annunciation scenes.

Like the evangelist symbols from the Book of Kells (shown in plates of her 1996 book), all of the symbols in Cerne are winged (Mark to the left). So I think this makes comparison of the winged man symbol for Matthew important. Here there seems to me to be a very different more fluid style. The wings have the small feathers at the top, as the Lichfield Angel does, but the entire wing is more fluid, less rigid. The upper margin is scalloped and the coloration is red/purple, blue,white and gold, in a rather random mixture. The body of the man/angel symbol is also more fluid and less antomical. The legs are visible lines through the clothing but crudely and the body has the hour-glass shape found in many Irish products. The wings on the lion of Mark to the left are similar to the angel sculpture with softer angles, but differ from the Matthew man/angel and the eagle wings of John in lack the scalloped upper edge. The coloration is more like the Matthew angel in its palate and randomness.

Overall, Brown is trying to create a group of texts and art produced or collected in early 9th century Mercia. So far she has three works linked primarily by their purple palate:

• Lichfield Gospels - mid 8th century, perhaps for the refurbishment of St Chad’s shrine (as the Lindisfarne Gospels were made for St Cuthbert’s shrine). This book she admits may have been commissioned by Lichfield from somewhere else, possibly Northumbria.
  • “My studies have revealed that the book was decorated by an artist who is likely to have been accorded the privilege of studying the decorated incipits of the Lindisfarne Gospels…first hand. He devised his own simplified yet still graphically powerful responses to several of these pages (Col. Pls VI B-D) and is likely to have been working in the generation after the Lindisfarne Gospels were completed, c. 720, in the mid-8th century.This reliance did not extend to the text…more traditional Insular ‘mixed text’ in which Old Latin, Vulgate and local readings were conflated in the sort of text that were favored by the Columban paruchia” (p. 17)
• Lichfield Angel - c 800 during the expansion of the cathedral probably under Offa.
• Book of Cerne - early ninth century, that she believes was made for or in honor of Bishop Aethelwald of Lichfield (818-830)

I would be interested to hear what others who know more about these texts or have least least seen them in person think of her cluster.