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.

[Updated 27 March 2008]

This month’s lost kingdom is Lindsey, which makes up most of what is considered Lincolnshire. The kingdom of Lindsey is a hypothetical kingdom because it never appears in the historical record as such. It is based on the Roman city of Lincoln and its environs. Lindsey apparently means Isle of Lincoln. Cut off by rivers and marshes, in the early medieval period, Lindsey was a large island or set of islands with the district of Hatfield to its northwest along with the Isle of Axholme.

A Conflict Zone

From the earliest period, Lindsey appears to be under the control of her neighbors. The highest ranking secular figure in Lindsey that Bede lists is a reeve. A series of battles were fought on Lindsey’s western flank with control over the Isle of Lindsey being the major prize.

This northwestern corner near Lindsey (but perhaps outside of it) was a conflict zone for 6th and 7th century kings. The first battle located in this area was on the east bank of the River Idle on the Mercian boder in 616 when Aethelfrith of Bernicia was slain by Redwald of East Anglia on behalf of Edwin of Deira. This was at a fork in the Roman road system on Lindsey’s western flank that may have marked a boundary between petty kingdoms and the extent of each kings hegemony over those petty kingdoms. Aethelfrith’s death there without his full army suggests that he felt comfortable traveling in this region with just his normal retinue/body guard. It is possible that Lindsey passed to Aethelfrith with his conquest of Deira, and that he felt secure there.

Edwin is the only northern king we see actually active in Lindsey. Bede tells us that Bishop Paulinus of York was particularly active in Lincoln. The reeve of Lincoln Blaecca and his family are converted (apparently he is the highest ranking man in Lindsey) and Paulinus builds a stone church there (HE II.16). Now this is strange as the stone church in York was still incomplete when Edwin died. It seems more likely that Paulinus refurbished a Roman building, perhaps a church. Bede says that in his time the roof has fallen in from neglect but that miracles still occur there so apparently the current Bishop of Lincoln did not use the same church. It was in this church in Lincoln rather than in York that Paulinus consecrated Archbishop Honorius of Canterbury in about 627. Bede goes on to relate a story told to him by Abbot Deda of Partney about Bishop Paulinus’ preaching in Littleborough (Tiowulfingacaestir) that unusally describes the appearance of Bishop Paulinus as “tall, with a slight stoop, black hair, a thin face, a slender aquiline nose, and at the same time he was both venerable and awe-inspiring in appearance”(HE II.16, McClure and Collins, p. 100). This account also apparently mentioned James the Deacon who survived up to the synod of Whitby in 664. Added on to this is Bede’s discussion of Edwin’s royal standard (tufa/thuf). I wonder if this addition was inspired by the place name Tiowulfingacaestir?

Lindsey also figures in the death of King Edwin of Deira whose death is located at Hatfield Chase just northwest of Lindsey on 12 October 633. His body was miraculously found there sometime after 679 and relocated to the church at Whitby.

When Queen Osthryth sent her uncle Oswald’s body to Bardney the monks initially tried to reject it because they said that he had once conquered them. This suggest that the men of Lindsey had met Oswald in battle and lost. The Irish record a southern uprising against Oswald in 637 [rec 641?] that appears to be independent of his last campaign against Penda. (The Annals of Tigernach give this as being one year before it records his death in 638 [rec 642], placing the siege of Edinburgh in between.) Given the importance of this conflict zone it is possible that the uprising was focused in the region of Lindsey and that Lindsey had sided with Oswald’s opponents. If so, it would appear that Oswald successfully put down this revolt. It makes me wonder if Oswald was chasing the ring leader of the revolt in 642 when he fell at Maserfelth. The sentiment that Lindsey may have preferred Mercian rule over Bernician could even go back to the apparent Deiran cooperation with Mercia against Bernicia seen in Edwin’s marriage in exile, and Oswine’s and even Oethelwald’s later cooperation with Mercia. This fits well into ideas I have been developing about the “Humbrian” region that I will have to save for another day.

The next the battlefield shifts slightly north to near Leeds, where Penda of Mercia is killed by Oswiu in 15 November 655. The location of Penda’s death is not specifically known. Somewhere in the marshy fenlands around the upper Humber River in the region of Loidis (Leeds). From the time of Penda’s death in 655, Lindsey appears to have passed securely into Northumbrian hands under King Oswiu.

The fate of Lindsey from the revolt against Oswiu in Mercia that placed Wulfhere on the throne in 658 is unknown. We know that Wulfhere granted land to Chad before 672 and that Chad’s deposed successor Wynfrith retired there. Yet, Oswiu died in 670 so it is still possible that Northumbria/Bernicia retained control of Lindsey until the death of Oswiu and it wasn’t disputed until the time of Ecgfrith (670-685). We know that Wulfhere attacked Northumbria in 674 but was defeated. Lindsey was the usual conflict zone between these kingdoms but the exact time and location of this battle is lost. The Life of Wilfrid suggests that Lindsey passed back to the Northumbrians after this defeat. But it Wulfhere was attacking Northumbria, how did he loose Lindsey? How did Northumbria on the defense gain Lindsey for their victory?

Again in 679 a battle is fought due west of Lindsey again on the River Trent when King Æthelred of Mercia invaded Northumbria. King Ælfwine of Deira was slain in the battle. It is significant to know that the River Trent was considered an invasion of Northumbria. This last battle seems to be specifically over control of Lindsey. After Ælfwine’s death the border skirmishes threatened to turn into a blood feud until Archbishop Theodore stepped in and mediated a settlement that allowed Mercia to keep Lindsey but pay weregeld for Ælfwine’s death.

Monastic Networks

The primary means of controlling the region of Lindsey appears to have rested in its monastic network. The kings of Mercia in particular invested heavily in monasteries that controlled key fords or bridges over the main rivers that provided access to Lindsey.

The monasteries of Bardney and Partney both fall into this category and were at one time, along with a convent, controlled by one family who also provided Lindsey with an early bishop, Aethelwine Bishop of Lindsey 680-692. His brother was Abbot Eadlwine of Partney and there sister was Abbess Aethelhild, whose monastery was somewhere near Partney. Although the early monks of Bardney may have favored Merican rule, this family does seem to have been well entrenched with the church of Lindisfarne. Another brother of this family, Aethelhun, died in Ireland with Egbert in about 664 and another monk of Lindsey, Higebald, later visited Egbert in Ireland.

We know that Bardney was heavily invested in by King Aethelred of Mercia, who became its abbot after his abdication. It was at Bardney that Aethelred and his queen Osthryth established the shrine of her uncle King Oswald and where both were later themselves buried. His burial of Queen Osthryth there after her murder (also by Mercian rebels), which when placed next to her martyred uncle, must have further enhanced the prestige of the site. St Oswald’s shrine at Bardney seems to have been the most major shrine in Lindsey during the Anglo-Saxon period, although St Guthlac’s Croyland and St Audrey’s Ely, and Peterborough (Medeshampstead) where not that far away in the fen lands bordering Lindsey.

It is interesting to note that unlike in other regions, Lindsey’s monasteries are along inland waterways, but I don’t know of any on the seaward side. This suggests that their placement was to control internal trade and travel, but not to be part of a port as we find near Whitby, Jarrow, Whithorn, St David’s Menevia and other monasteries.

Lindsey’s Pseudo-Royal Family

Only one instance of a royal genealogy for Lindsey has survived. It is in an Anglican Collection of genealogies that are believed to have come from Offa’s Mercia. By this time Lindsey was securely under Mercian control and probably had been for all of living memory. We know that King Offa gave the shrine of St Oswald at Bardney expensive gifts, as mentioned in Alcuin’s poem on the Bishops, Kings and Saints of York.

The Lindsey genealogy is obviously non-royal. It is probably a noble who is being particularly honored by Offa, perhaps one who rose to sub-king, but not from a royal family. Just as Offa killed off his son’s rivals, he would have boosted those who he expected to help his son. Offa may have considered this sub-king/ealdorman to have been important in helping secure the succession of his son Ecgfrith. This lineage disappears after its single mention in Offa’s genealogical collection, so it is possible that this family fell from power with the death of Offa’s son. Its last member Aldfrith is a witness to one charter in Offa’s time. However, given that it isn’t that long before the arrival of the Danes it is not surprising that the fate of this family is a mystery.

If we look at the genealogy in detail there is just enough alliteration and common naming patterns to believe that it could be real back to Winta, the last man before Woden. Winta may reflect the placename Winteringham (homestead of Winta’s people) (Wikipedia). His son Cretta looks like a reasonable name for a son of Winta so they may come from local Lindsey lore. Note that most of the kingdoms are founded by duos, father and son (Ida and Eoppa), or brothers (Hengest and Horsa). It does not follow any other pattern to show linkage between royal houses, but neither does Mercia. (For example, Wessex and Bernicia claim to be descended from the same son of Woden.) The genealogy is noticeably shorter than the others in the collection (ie. it reaches Woden sooner) and then unlike the others extends beyond Woden to Geot (Geat) to make it as long as the others in the collection. This all adds up to suggest it is probably a fairly recent act of creative writing.

Medieval Legends

In early medieval legends, Lindsey/Lincoln is often mentioned in Arthurian stories. The earliest mention is the Historia Brittonum where Arthur fights three of his twelve battles over the ‘district of Linnis’, usually interpreted as Lindsey. This section of the Historia Brittonum (written in c. 825) is widely accepted to be a battle listing poem that has been incorporated as a bridge in the historical narrative. Whether or not the poet originally intended Linnis to be Lindsey, it is likely that by 825 the author of the Historia Brittonum would have been thinking of Lindsey when he compiled that work. Even in legend, Lindsey is an area of conflict.

Modern Legends

As far as I can tell the early antiquarian guess that the name and people of Lindisfarne are somehow linked to Lindsey is just that, a guess based on the name. I don’t think there is any real connection between the two place names.

References:

I owe my knowledge of conflict zones to the PhD thesis of Tim Clarkson and many conversations over the years.

Clarkson, Tim. 2001. Warfare in early historic northern Britain. Unpublished PhD dissertation. Manchester: University of Manchester.

Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People

“The Kingdom of Lindsey” at Wikipedia.

St Owine is a somewhat malleable figure in the veneration of St Audrey.

He first appears in Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People where he is a member of St Chad’s household at Lichfield. Owine witnesses an exchange between Chad and an angel shortly before Chad’s death. Bede goes on to explain that Owine had been chief of her officers and the head of Æthelthryth’s household when she married prince Ecgfrith of Northumbria (Bede, HE IV.3). Bede goes on to relate that Owine joined Chad at Lastingham dressed plainly and carrying only an axe and adze to show that he came to work. He was not skilled at the study of Scriptures but more than made up for this in his earnest manual labor. When Chad moved to Lichfield to become bishop he asked Owine to join his household there. He was working outside of Chad’s personal oratory when he overheard Chad conversing with an angels. Chad then sent Owine to collect the others of the household and he gave them all, including Owine, his last instructions. Chad died on March 2, 672; the same year Æthelthryth (Audrey) left her marriage and entered Coldingham. Thus, Owine had left Æthelthryth’s service long before she left her marriage. Owine is also only associated with Lastingham and Litchfield by Bede. To join Lastingham while Chad was there he would have joined between 664 and 670; most of this time Chad was also Bishop of York (c. 665-669).

The Liber Eliensis expands Owine’s role. It casts Owine as Æthelthryth’s protector who only entered the church after she took up monastic life. He is clearly portrayed as following her lead. This is clearly impossible. It does claim that Owine entered Lasthingham when it was ruled by Bishop Chad of Mercia whose great friend he became, so it pushes his entry into Lasthingham as late as possible (LE i.8, 10). In LE i.23, Owine is, ironically, called her tutor. This may be a plea to link the cults of Chad and Audrey, particuarly after Ely largely came under the control of Mercia in the time of Offa. However, the expansions are not too great over what Bede reports.

This caution to keep within the outline laid out by Bede is completely lost in Marie de France’s Life of St Audrey. Marie claims that Audrey founds the church of St Andrew at Augustaldeus (Hexham) which she staffed with ‘her people’ who established the house there. Audrey placed the monk Ovin (Owine) as the “master of that church and its religious life”. Ovin became friends with Chad but is not said to have joined Chad’s household. Later, Marie claims that Ovin, “spiritual leader of Saint Audrey’s people” followed Audrey into Coldingham.

We can see an escalating of Owine’s relationship to Audrey. I haven’t yet found a source that claims that Owine came to Ely with her, but that may be the implication of Marie’s claim that he followed her into Coldingham. Commemoration of St Ovin — notice Marie’s French spelling — is part of remembrances of St Audrey at Ely today. This cross is apparently a medieval relic from a neighboring village. This drawing is from Cambridgeshire History.

Today at Ely Cathedral, a procession to St Ovin’s Cross takes place at second evensong on both St Audrey’s day and the feast of her translation in October using the ‘verses and collect’ of St Ovin.

Sources:

Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People, 731

Janet Fairweather, trans. Liber Eliensis: A History of the Isle of Ely from the Seventh Century to the Twelfth. Boydell, 2005.

June Hall McCash and Judith Clark Barban, trans and ed. The Life of Saint Audrey: A Text by Marie De France. McFarland, 2006.

Trumhere is an interesting fellow and another glimpse into King Oswine’s church. Trumhere first appears on the scene in the days following Oswine’s death in August 651 when King Oswiu founds the monastery of Gilling to pray for both kings. Bede describes Trumhere as a close kinsman of King Oswine who was made abbot over the new monastery.

“The third bishop [of Mercia] was Trumhere, an Englishman but educated and consecrated by the Irish. He was abbot of the monastery called Gilling, the place where King Oswine was killed… Queen Eanflaed, his kinswoman, had asked King Oswiu to expiate Oswine’s unjust death by granting God’s servant Trumhere, also a near relative of the murdered king, a site at Gilling to build a monastery; in it prayer was continually to be said for the eternal welfare of both kings, for the one who planned the murder and for his victim.” (Bede, HE III.24; McClure and Collins, p. 152)

This makes the second of Oswine’s close kin (along with Hild) who entered the church under Aidan. Trumhere had clearly been in the church long enough to be suitable to found a monastery on his own. He is also only the second of Aidan’s students to be known to found a monastery; the other one being Eata at Melrose. We can expect that Gilling would have been founded within days or months of the deaths of Oswine and Aidan. It is even possible that it was arranged before the death of Aidan 12 days after Oswine.

In 658 the Mercians throw off the Northumbrian yoke and raise Penda’s young son Wulfhere to the throne. According to Bede, Trumhere of Gilling is his first bishop. It is unclear if Trumhere became bishop with the Mercian revolt or if he had become bishop very shortly before. His epsicopate in Mercia and Middle Anglia is tentatively dated from c. 658 to 662 when he is succeeded by Jaruman. There is no reason given for the succession of Jaruman so we are left to suppose that Trumhere had died. The Mercian bishops do have a surprisingly short episcopates: Diuma started in c. 653 and died in office; Ceollach left for Ireland; Trumhere began in c. 658 and had 4 years; Jaruman had about 5 years and died in office; vacancy of about 3 years; Chad had three years and died in office in 672; Wynfrith had about 3 years and was deposed before Wulfhere’s death in 675. Two bishops in only about 20 years were deposed or abdicated (Ceollach and Wynfrith).

As the first bishop of King Wulfhere, who had been in hiding until then, it is likely that Trumhere baptized Wulfhere. Unfortunately and unusually, there is no record of Wulfhere’s baptism. The only reference I can recall is in Kentish/East Anglian hagiography that states something to the effect that he wasn’t baptized until his Kentish queen arrived, but Kent doesn’t take credit for his baptism. Therefore it is most likely that it occurred after his queen arrived but was done by the local bishop. We do know that the Mercia church was under the hegemony of Lindisfarne until 664.

Trumhere’s successor at Gilling was Cynefrith, brother of Bede’s Abbot Ceolfrith. We know that he was abbot only for a short while before leaving his post to retire to Ireland where he died, probably during the plague of 664. He was succeeded by Tunberht who lead the community to join Ripon after the plague of 664 reduced their numbers. It also seems possible that King Oswiu no longer had the support such an embarrassing enterprise after he decided for Rome in 664. Tunberht later became Bishop of Hexham during Wilfrid’s exile as a concession to Wilfrid’s monasteries. At the time that Tunberht was elevated to the episcopate Archbishop Theodore consecrated a man named Trumwine as the first bishop of Abercorn for the Picts. The similarity of the names Trumhere, Tunberht and Trumwine makes me wonder if we don’t have a set of Oswine’s kinsmen who were promoted in within the church in part because they were from the Deiran royal family. Trumhere appears to have been fairly close to King Ecgfrith as he was the one person specifically named has going to Lindisfarne with Ecgfrith to convince Cuthbert to accept his election to the episcopate replacing the deposed Tunberht.

Everything we know of Trumhere comes from Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People.

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.

Tony Blair converts to Catholicism, that was yesterday’s news. I wish him the best and he is not the first politician to wait until his career is past its peak to convert or change denominations. I suspect most have been worried about more than pubic opinion.

Retirement to Rome almost became a fad in late 7th to early 8th century England. It was started by King Cædwalla of Wessex who like Constantine waited until near death to be baptized. I suspect the intervention of Bishop Wilfrid here, since he talked Cædwalla into letting him baptize the young princes of Wight before they were executed/murdered for the mere reason that Cædwalla wanted to exterminate their dynasty. As Wilfrid was apparently unable to convert Cædwalla himself, he may have used the legend of Constantine and the lure of a papal baptism to finally get him to convert. I discussed the likelihood that legends of Constantine were known in Hexham here. His brother Mull had been burned alive in a Kentish rebellion the previous year. We know that Cædwalla had plenty of brutality* to complete before he made his first and last confession. It is generally believed that Cædwalla had been mortally wounded in one of his battles, and though young, was indeed going to Rome to die. His successor King Ine also retired to Rome, though he had long been a Christian patron.

Another king who retired to Rome was Coenred (Cenred) son of Wulfhere of Mercia. He succeeded his uncle Æthelred for only four years before retiring to Rome where he became a monk in c.709. He also took an Essex prince named Offa with him, much to the lamenting of Offa’s people. Again, we might suspect that Wilfrid of York was in part behind this. We know that King Æthelred of Mercia was particularly close to Wilfrid and that Æthelred still had quite a bit of sway over his nephew Coenred and his son Coelred. Note that according to the Life of Wilfrid, he made his last trip to Mercia (where he died) because King Coelred son of Æthelred (who was later supposedly possessed by demons) promised to make Wilfrid his spiritual director and to follow Wilfrid’s plans for the whole of his life. It is interesting that 709 is also the year that Coelred became king, after his predecessor and cousin Cenred retired to Rome. Alas, neither King Coelred or Wilfrid’s adopted son King Osred of Northumbria ended very well.

So is it a coincidence that only those kings closest to Wilfrid actually retired in Rome, I think not. We also know from the History of the Abbots that King Alchfrith wanted to accompany Benedict Biscop to Rome but was prevented by his father. This had to be at least a year before 662 since he was at Lerins for two years before going to Rome and Wighard arrived in Rome to be consecrated as archbishop of Canterbury while he was there. We know that Alchfrith had been a major instigator of the Synod of Whitby and close to Wilfrid. Clearly, Oswiu didn’t trust Alchfrith going to Rome. Bede also tells us in his Ecclesiastical History that in 670 King Oswiu wanted Wilfrid to accompany him to Rome for retirement, if he recovered from his last illness — which he didn’t. Wiley King Oswiu may have been thinking that he would give his son a boost by taking troublesome Bishop Wilfrid with him to Rome and finding a way for him not to return or at least having him canonically replaced. Oswiu may have gotten the idea from his son, who may have been acting on Wilfrid’s advice (though Bede doesn’t mention Wilfrid in the H. Abbots). We can only wonder what Benedict Biscop thought about the whole situation since he had already had one falling out with Wilfrid on a previous trip to Rome. Bede doesn’t tell us; only that Biscop went on alone. If Oswiu or his son Alchfrith had retired to Rome, they would have been the first Anglo-Saxon kings to do so.

Although only kings who were in some way associated with Bishop Wilfrid actually retired to Rome, four other notable kings abdicated their thrones to enter a monastery — Sigibert of East Anglia, Sebbi of Essex, Æthelred of Mercia, Coelwulf of Northumbria and Eadberht of Northumbria. Each entered the monastery for their own reasons. Some, Sigibert and Sebbi, for obvious piety. One, Coelwulf, had been forced against his will, only to regain the throne and later leave for Lindisfarne voluntarily. Æthelred and Eadberht both were long reigning kings who may have wanted to retreat from the pressures and also help their chosen sucessors maintain the throne. I’ve always had the feeling that Æthelred’s zest for the throne would have ebbed after the murder of Queen Osthryth. His support of King Oswald’s cult at Bardney, his burial of his queen there, (if I recall correctly) dedication of new monastic lands (in Hwicce?) to her memory or for her soul, and his own eventual retirement to Bardney suggest that he may have really loved her.

Getting back to Tony Blair, he is not the first nor the last English politician to make a major religious move late in his career. As you can see above, early English kings went to Rome for a variety of reasons, some good and some more suspect. All of them kept the political implications of their move in the fore of their mind, no matter how pious their motivations.

~

* Cædwalla’s brutality was not limited to the Isle of Wight. He also ravaged Sussex and Kent, where his brother Mull was burned alive in retaliation. He then invaded Kent again and must have taken his vengeance.