Treasures of Sutton Hoo and Caedmon

Here are two photographs of some of the famous items found in the Sutton Hoo ship burial for comparison with the treasure trove newly discovered in old Mercia. The pair of shoulder clasps are from the East Anglian Sutton Hoo burial and the sword bosses are from the Mercian trove.

Here, for those who are not familiar with the brilliance of native Anglo-Saxon Christianity as embodied in poetry, are some verses from Caedmon about the creation of the world:

'Raise we the Fashioner now of Heaven's fabric,
The majesty of his might and his mind's wisdom,
Work of the world warden,
Worker of all wonders,
How he the Lord of Glory everlasting,
Wrought first for the race of men Heaven as a rooftree,
Then made he Middle Earth to be their mansion.'

For those who prefer the original with a close translation of each verse:

Nu we sculon herigean heofonrices weard,
Now we must praise the Protector of the highest ward of heaven,
meotodes meahte and his modgeþanc,
the might of the Measurer and His mind purpose,
weorc wuldorfæder, swa he wundra gehwæs,
work of the Father of Glory, as He for each of the wonders,
ece drihten, or onstealde.
the eternal Lord, established a beginning.
He ærest sceop eorðan bearnum
He shaped first for the sons of the Earth
heofon to hrofe, halig scyppend;
heaven as a roof, the Holy Maker;
þa middangeard moncynnes weard,
then the Middle-World, mankind's Guardian,
ece drihten, æfter teode
the eternal Lord, made afterwards,
firum foldan, frea ælmihtig.
solid ground for men, the almighty Lord.


Another great early Christain Anglo-Saxon poem is the famed 'Dream of the Rood':

The poet speaks here first of his vision:

'I, lying there a long while, beheld, sorrowing, the Healer's Tree
until it seemed that I heard how it broke silence, best of wood, and spoke:
'It was long ago.
I still remember,
back to the holt where I was hewn down;
From my own stock I was struck away,
dragged off by strong enemies
wrought into a roadside scaffold.
They made me a hoist from wrongdoers.
The soldiers on their shoulders bore me
until on a hill-top they raised me.
Many enemies made me fast held there.
Then I saw, marching toward me,
Mankind's brave King.
He came to climb upon me.
I dared not break nor bend aside
against God's will, though the ground itself
Shook at my feet.
Then the young warrior,
Almighty God, mounted the Cross,
in the sight of many.
He would set mankind free.
I shook when his arms embraced me,
but I dared not bow to the ground,
stoop to Earth's surface.
Stand fast I must.
I was reared up straight and high, a rood.
I held the King, Heaven's lord, I dared not bow.
They drove me through with dark nails: on me are the wounds,
Wide-mouthed dents of hatred...
All creation wept,
keened the King's death.
Christ was on the Cross.'

One always must make clear distinction between political religious propaganda and the beauty inherent in the actual religion. Unfortunately, written accounts by monks in early England tended to be filled with anti-pagan propaganda and yet, the beauty of Christianity is there as well... Bede was a talented writer and his visions could soar to heaven at times when he was not spitting forth his disapproval of non-Christians.

Astounding new Anglo-Saxon Mercian Treasure Trove

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Since earliest childhood, I have been captivated by the idea of buried treasure. Like the Bastable children in E. Nesbit's books, I dreamed of finding some kind of talisman, amulet or hoard of coins. When, in childhood, I first saw the treasures of Sutton Hoo, my concept of the perfect treasure trove crystallised... The great ship burial was awe-inspiring beyond belief and left an indelible impression on me.

Loving Tolkien and our Northern heritage, the label of the 'Dark Ages' made me indignant long before I actually had an academic foundation for my dislike. In fact, my childish loyalty towards old folk heroes such as Hereward the Wake grew into an adult respect for a culture that was as multi-faceted and rich in artistic expression and legal sophistication as any that pretended to improve upon it. The monks who gave 19th and 20th century historians their written sources for the period were prejudiced against the pagans and made no secret of their desire to advance the interests of Christianity even at the cost of truth. Ironically, although Christianity always was a strong influence in Anglo-Saxon England, somehow the pagan invaders who settled after Rome's power was broken became known as barbarians who had to be converted to civilisation rather than being recognised as the bearers of their own rich cultures. Archaeology, that silent yet eloquent advocate, gradually has eroded the wall of ignorance that obscured our vision of the old Northern civilisations. A new discovery from the old kingdom of Mercia may yield a wealth of information to further popular understanding of the Anglo-Saxons.

A hoard of more than 1500 pieces of gold and silver dating from the 7th century has been found buried in a field in Staffordshire and has been dubbed the 'Staffordshire Hoard'. I would like to thank David Harthen for bringing this discovery to my attention.

The image at the top shows how close these treasures were to the surface when found. It is truly amazing to think of all the ancient treasures that still remain undetected by us in the womb of the Earth.

Duncan Slarke, finds liason officer for Staffordshire declared that he was 'virtually speechless' at the first sight of 'boxes full of gold, items exhibiting the finest Anglo-Saxon workmanship.' So far, the amount of precious metals has been assessed as more than 5kg of gold (650 items) and over 1kg of silver (560 items). Among the treasure are exquisitely wrought sword pommels and fittings inlaid with precious stones. Far beyond any value in terms of the actual metals and gems, naturally, is the value in historical terms.

Mercia was known as a rich kingdom in the 7th century, so it is logical that a treasure of this magnitude would be buried in the heart of Staffordshire. Penda, one of the great Mercian kings of the 7th century, was a pagan but allowed free rein to Christian missionaries in the kingdom. (Despite his liberal attitude, he was reviled by the 'Venerable' Bede for being a pagan.) A gold strip bearing a verse derived either from Psalm 67 and/or the Book of Numbers has been found in this hoard, bearing witness to the presence of Christian influences in the kingdom. It is a 'protective' verse, asking for the help of the Lord in dispersing the wearer's enemies.

In fact, the inscription appears to read:

'surge dne disepentur inimici tui et fugent qui oderunt te a facie tua'

This would translate as:

'Arise, Lord, let your enemies be scattered and let those flee from before you who hate you.'

Scholars are arguing about the precise derivation from the Vulgate edition for this talismanic engraving.

Psalm 67, v. 2:
'exsurgat dus et dissipentur inimici eius et fugiant qui oderunt eum a facie eius'

Numbers 10, v. 35:
'surge dne et dissipentur inimici tui et fugiant qui oderunt te a facie tua'

In my own view, the actual precise derivation is irrelevant and probably was unknown to the engraver. As with runic inscriptions from the same era, the efficacy was believed to reside in the words as copied from OTHER TALISMANS usually rather than any primary religious source. Throughout England and the North, when knowledge of the runes decreased, they nonetheless continued to be used in protective engravings on weapons as well as stones. Often runes were mis-engraved, rendering an original protective word or phrase pure gibberish and demonstrating the fact that the engraver did no more than copy what he believed to be a potent talismanic device.

In terms of early Anglo-Saxon Christianity, few other than the monks themselves could read or write Latin and it is extremely unlikely that it was the Monks who engraved weapons or weapon parts. In other words, any misspellings or deviance from an original Vulgate verse would be accidental, thereby rendering fierce academic arguments about such derivation rather meaningless in the circumstances.

The most famous king of Mercia may be Offa who built a barrier between Mercia and Wales that came to be known as 'Offa's Dyke'. Mercia in fact was one of the dominant powers in early England and it was only after it was split in half after the Viking invasions in the latter half of the 9th century that its power and identity was broken. Wessex was in the ascendant and Mercia became subordinate to its influence in the West and in the East to the Danes.

To me, the original Anglo-Saxon form of Christianity in its most vibrant form was represented by the Heliand, an alliterative poem about the life of Christ that casts Jesus Christ in the role of a traditional Northern hero. Caedmon's wonderful poems expressing his faith embody the old Northern Christian spirit as well. This spirit has been resurrected by contemporary 'Celtic Christianity', a form of modern religion that attempts to synthesise all that is best both in the old Celtic (and Northern) religions and in Christianity.

As in any case where Religion is made an excuse for political aims, both Christianity and 'Pagan' Religions played nefarious roles on occasion in Anglo-Saxon England. Christian monasteries held an immense amount of wealth irresistable to Vikings and other invaders and thus, the sacking of English monasteries became the propaganda image that represented the Vikings. At the same time, little was written about sometimes terrible massacres of pagan populations who refused to convert to Christianity at swordpoint. As always in history, genuine religious fervour combined with greed, empowered by weapons and a 'need' for conquest devastated the countryside of England for centuries.

This state of affairs, however, is not restricted to the first millenium in the history of England and does not justify the slur inherent in the term that describes this period as the 'Dark Ages'.

Objects in the Sutton Hoo ship burial displayed both pagan and Christian influences and beliefs. It is possible that, as more items in the Mercian treasure hoard are studied, both pagan and Christian influences will be found co-existing side by side as well.

The inlaid garnet, glass and enamel cloisonne work on the items found in the Mercian treasure hoard is quintessentially Anglo-Saxon. Exquisite Cloisonne work is the hallmark of the Northern 'barbarians' and there is no jewelry in the world that can surpass the beauty and quality of the shoulder clasps of Sutton Hoo.

The ship burial at Sutton Hoo contained an extraordinary variety of items, from musical instruments to furniture, weapons, household items and jewelry. What has been revealed of the Mercian treasure trove so far primarily are items relating to war. It will be fascinating to watch the progress of this investigation into our noble past.

No doubt, further study of these treasures will yield more definitive information with respect to their place in Mercian history.

Happy Twelfth Night!

,The tale of the three Magi who gazed into the heavens and discovered a 'new star', following that star for hundreds of miles to a cave to pay homage to the Divine Child is a powerful one. For children, the idea that the Three Kings re-enact this amazing journey each Yuletide season in order to visit every home, leaving chocolates, money, oranges and/or other gifts in their shoes makes Twelfth Night the occasion of another magical visitation. (Many leave carrots for the camels as well as a dish of water for them, recognising their incredible labours on this night.)

Father Christmas, the Three Kings and the Tooth Fairy are among the most beloved magical 'visitors' in a child's life. Those who 'outgrow' these symbols of magic may pride themselves on their maturity but I rather pity them. As I told a child who related the mockery of her classmates to me, 'Well, if they don't believe in Santa Claus, I very much doubt he will fill THEIR stockings again!' Like the land of 'make-believe', we are required to suspend our own disbelief in order to pass through the gates, and without our contributions to the landscape, that land will be barren and uninhabited.

I prefer to populate the landscape of my universe with as many magical creatures as possible. This brings me to the age-old subject of Faith.

Spiritual belief is as much a matter of Faith as logic. Without both, the spiritual landscape will be rather barren. We are as much creatures of logic as of faith. This is why we are compelled to base some of our religious or spiritual beliefs on logic and/or science. On the other hand, Faith is something that transcends logic and operates outside its limits. That is why we are called upon to make a 'leap of Faith' where spiritual matters are concerned. That leap need not be over a treacherous chasm or abyss, but the nature of the space over which we leap is not relevant to the destination. We must have the courage to make that leap if we wish to reach the other side.

In Northern mythology, the Rainbow Bridge Bifrost represents the 'leap of Faith'. Many traditions include a bridge of this nature, as thin and sharp as a 'knife's edge', but a bridge that will bring the traveler to the other side at last, provided he/she has the courage and determination to keep walking. Look down if you will, but do not be paralysed or utterly undone by the sight. Most people are advised to keep their eyes (and spirits) firmly directed to the goal. Perhaps it is only the greatest prophets and seers who are able to witness all that lies in the dimension between heaven and earth, or between this reality and the other.

As for that other reality, we cannot live perpetually in that place, but must be disciplined enough to live in this reality as well, committing ourselves sufficiently to it to provide for our needs and the needs of others. The most 'balanced' human being, I believe, is the one who can spend time both in this realm and the other, whether or not that other realm is named 'Imagination', 'Creativity', 'Religion' or 'the Path to Heaven'. Our spiritual energy is derived from that other realm, but the energy must be channeled into THIS life and this reality. Otherwise, its purpose is lost.

For a Muslim, the time spent on the prayer rug is time spent in that other realm. 'Qurbatan ilallah' or 'nearness to God' is the term that reflects this 'sacred space/time'. A Catholic or Buddhist may use a string of beads as a 'ladder to Heaven' and Muslims actually use a tasbih ('a reminder' in the form of a string of beads) in the same fashion. The idea of the prayer rug, however, appeals to me immensely.

The pagan creates a sacred circle, often with candles and symbols in each of the four quarters. The prayer rug or musalah achieves the same result. When salat (prayer) ends, the rug is folded or rolled up and put away, for it is a sacred space and thus should not be used as an ordinary carpet or rug would be used.

Even some one who does not practice Islam must be enraptured by the sight of an exquisite silk rug with the pattern of the Tree of Life in a mihrab (sacred arch). This ancient pattern embodies many universal symbols dealing with the relationship between Heaven and Earth, God and Human. The Tree is the ladder that joins Heaven and Earth. Branches of the Tree represent different aspects of existence or different stages of enlightenment, depending on the tradition one follows. In some traditions (including Christianity), the Tree of Life and Death is the symbol of the Sacrificed God, and that which unites Life and Death in the form of Rebirth. The Vine that must be cut in order to live again is an ancient Dionysian symbol, among others.

The mihrab or arch is the signpost that directs the worshipper to Makkah. In every mosque, the mihrab faces Makkah. Makkah is the ultimate sacred space for the Muslim and is the destination of the ultimate earthly pilgrimage.

I believe that the mihrab is far more than an indication of 'qibla' or direction of prayer. It is the window through which the soul can catch a glimpse of the Divine.

It is interesting to note that ancient myths of Canaan speak of the abode of Gods as a dwelling with windows that must be opened in order to allow rain and sustenance to reach humanity. One of the ancient tales about Ba'al or the 'Lord' relates to his fear of windows. In his first house, he refused to build any windows, for fear that his rival Mot ('Death') would enter through the window to kidnap his wives and daughters! By denying that potential access to his rival, however, he denied himself any connection with Earth and his own worshippers. The Earth could not survive without life-giving rain. Ba'al was forced to allow windows to be added to his dwelling, else he would perish in a prison of his own making.

There is a spiritual lesson here for every one.

Incidentally, neither Ba'al nor Mot were the Supreme Deity. El had power over both, and El referred to both Ba'al and Mot as 'His Beloved'. Titles given to both were 'the Beloved of El'. Death, therefore, was not perceived as a monster until later, when the myths began to reflect the beliefs of invaders who did not accept that Sky and Earth should be twin parts of a whole, but who sought to claim precedence for Life over Death and created the image of a 'Sky God' who would subjugate all other powers and be forever in the ascendant.

This contradicts reality, of course. In the original myths, Mot and Ba'al were equal in power and would fight one another for supremacy in ritual fashion. When vanquished, Mot would be 'winnowed' like the grain and would become bread for humanity. When victorious, Ba'al would be forced to visit the Underworld or womb of the Earth, to spend a season there before emerging again on the shoulders of the Sun. In this mythology, the Sun was female, by the way. This vision of a strong, powerful female who carries the corpse of the male upon her shoulders reminds one of the tales of the Northern valkyrie Brunnhilde. Shapash, the Sun, in fact, by bringing the body of Ba'al from the Underworld, acted as Saviour, and enabled his rebirth.

I see that my ramblings have brought me quite a distance from Twelfth Night to the ancient tale of Ba'al! That is the prerogative of a blog writer, however. There is no regulation or literary convention that forces me to remain 'on target'. If no one else reads this entry, at least I have had the enjoyment of revisiting old myths and traditions... I hope that some one else might find them as interesting as I do, but if not, I make no apologies. After all, is not 'writer satisfaction' not part of the purpose of a blog?

I am going to return to the traditions of Twelfth Night, however, as today marks the Festival of the Epiphany, at least for the Western Church.

Another old tradition of Twelfth Night is a Cake with a bean hidden in it. The person who finds the Bean becomes 'King/Queen of the Bean' and chooses a consort blindfolded. All persons of the opposite gender form a circle and begin to dance round the blindfolded monarch who reaches out to one when inspired to do so, thereby allowing 'Chance' to preside where the sacred marriage is concerned.

In some traditions, the King/Queen of the Bean will sit upon a throne and give commands to all his/her subjects. Often these commands involve the performance of an absurd act. In other traditions, the King/Queen is given a special gift... In most traditions, the primary duty of the King or Queen is to give the next Twelfth Night party.

In our home, Twelfth Night was the occasion of the 'Children's Party'. It was the only time when we were allowed to invite other children to our house for a celebration. I have to confess that my sister and I never invited any other girls to the house, because we made the Twelfth Night party into a formal 'Dinner Dance' affair and invited only boys in order to give ourselves a good and constant selection of dancing partners. Each boy was required to dress formally and bring flowers or a 'corsage'. Looking back on this, I am rather amazed that any boy would attend! The fact that they came to our party every year is even more amazing. I doubt they ever danced on any other occasion but we taught them ballroom dances and forced them to partner us until midnight. I can remember that I wore out a new pair of dancing slippers in a single evening,
and the dancing was relentless.

(How many boys actually enjoy dancing? Few, I suspect. Our friends probably enjoyed the 'King of the Bean' antics more than the dance programme.)

I do not know what our friends really thought of these evenings or if they remember them half as fondly as I do. I did speak to them years later about our Twelfth Night parties and they claimed they had enjoyed them but that may have been nothing more than courtesy or kindness on their part. I know their favourite festival with us was our annual Harvest Moon festival when we paraded through the quiet village streets with lanterns and chanting, much to the bewilderment of the old people who dominated the community. The best year, one friend declared, was the year that a candle set a lantern aflame, and we had to improvise quickly and pretend that a bonfire was a scheduled part of the ritual. Were we eccentric adolescents or were we juvenile delinquents? Being 'gifted' unfortunately made us immune to many of the judgements that would have been rendered otherwise by society. I obviously was not much of a 'follower' even then but I hope I require a much higher standard of behaviour from myself now. (People often tell me I am far too sentimental about the past, and it probably is true. On the other hand, I believe that we have the power to fashion our own book of memories, and when doing so, why should we not remember the best and discard the rest?)

Despite the dictatorial mandates of our Twelfth Night celebrations, I do believe they were kinder than some of the ancient year-end rituals. An old English custom required the slaying of a wren by the men or boys of the village. The wren then was displayed on a pole and carols were sung:

'We hunted the wren for Robin the Bobbin,
We hunted the wren for Jack of the Can,
We hunted the wren for Robin the Bobbin,
We hunted the wren for every one.'

This sacrifice of the wren or the sacrifice of a boar or pig represented the ancient sacrifice of the King or even of the God. The wren once was considered the 'King of the Birds' and represented the God who ruled over half the year. With its sacrifice, Spring and Summer could return.

This mirrors the ancient Canaanite sacrifice of Mot, who was harvested, beaten, and then made into bread to be eaten. As well as being the Ruler of the Underworld, he was the God of the Grain.

These are but a few of my Twelfth Night memories and musings. I come to the end of this Yuletide season with a sense that it passed too quickly. With some horror, I have seen shelves groaning with chocolates for St. Valentine's Day and Valentine cards in the local supermarkets since New Year's Day. Although I love festivals and holidays, surely there is no harm in enjoying and being satisfied with a few days of ordinary time. As with the contrast between darkness and light, a festival is defined mainly by its contrast with ordinary days. Let us at least have a decent interval in which we can put away the Yuletide decorations, spending a moment with each, remembering the year when it was given or first added to the collection or to be reminded of the giver before we begin to think about St. Valentine's Day!

I would like to end on a positive note, with an ancient prayer:

'As Above, so Below,
As the Universe, the Soul,
As Without, so Within,
To You, O Blessed and Gracious One/Ones,
I consecrate Body, Mind and Spirit,
Now and Forever, Blessed Be.'

Fairly universal in its application, I think.

If I were in London, I think I would spend the day visiting the treasures of Sutton Hoo. I am a firm believer in the power of heritage, and that ancient ship burial is a powerful relic. Combining both pagan and Christian traditions, cremation with inhumation, it brings the powers of earth and sky together, as well as the best of ancient Anglo-Saxon art (and riches). It is a treasure trove for all the senses. It was Sutton Hoo that set my spirit aflame as a child, and gave me a profound and immediate connection with our past. (Never mind the time and spacial difference... I shall visit it as best I can in my imagination until I can return there in reality.)