Heroes of the Dark Ages - Who's yours?

by Matthew Harffy

If I were to ask a group of people to name a hero from the Early Medieval period, the era more commonly known as the Dark Ages, who do you think they might mention? Alfred the Great perhaps? After all, he is the only king to be known as “Great” that Britain has ever produced.

King Alfred the Great

Some might go with that famous warrior king from the end of the period, Harold Godwinson. He will forever be known to all British schoolchildren as the man who rather clumsily got an arrow in his eye at the Battle of Hastings on that most famous of dates, 1066.

Harold has something in his eye on the Bayeux Tapestry

Some people, unsure of what is fact and what is fiction, might even give King Arthur a plug. Now, we don’t even know whether Arthur really existed, and we certainly don’t have any facts about his life or who he was even if we believe he is not purely fictional. And yet, his name is synonymous with Britishness and the distant mist-veiled days of the Dark Ages. He is “the once and future king” who will return to rid us of an invading army when the land most needs him.

A watery tart lobs a sword at Arthur

People who are more knowledgeable of the period’s history, and who are more inclined to turn to learning rather than battle-glory as a sign of greatness, might well mention The Venerable Bede, the Northumbrian monk and scholar who wrote much of what is known of the history of Britain up to his death in the 8th century.

Bede - the grandfather of British history

If they are really into their seventh century history, people might say their hero is King Penda of Mercia, or King Oswald (later Saint Oswald) of Northumbria, but I think those people would be few and far between.

What I can guarantee is that nobody would say that their hero of the Early Medieval period is King Sigebehrt of East Anglia. Well, perhaps I can’t guarantee it, but if someone voted for him, you can be sure they would belong to an extremely niche crowd!

However, to his people, Sigebehrt was every bit the hero.

St. Felix and King Sigebehrt

King Sigebehrt of East Anglia (known later also as Saint Sigebehrt, following his ***SPOILER ALERT*** martyrdom ***SPOILER ALERT***), had been the epitome of the warrior kings of the Anglo-Saxons.

You may well be thinking that it’s no wonder you haven’t heard of some ancient king of a small area of modern-day England. But back in the 7th century, East Anglia was a big deal. It was one of the most powerful kingdoms of Britain, perhaps the most powerful for a time. Indeed, it was powerful enough for its king, Rædwald, to be called by Bede ‘Rex Anglorum’ (King of the Angles, which makes him sound like he was great at trigonometry, but remember that the Angles were the Germanic tribe who gave their name to what would eventually become England). Rædwald was not only able to rule over all the Angles, but also to put those he favoured on the thrones of other kingdoms, as he did with King Edwin of Northumbria.

Replica of the Sutton Hoo helmet

Rædwald is probably the noble buried in the ship beneath the famous mound at Sutton Hoo, and it is likely that Sigebehrt was either his stepson or his nephew. Whatever his relationship to the great king, Sigebehrt was part of the dynasty of the Wuffingas, the ruling family of East Anglia for many decades.

Little is known about Sigebehrt’s early life, save that he was exiled from East Anglia to France. Exile was common at the time for nobles with a claim to the throne. It certainly beats death! In France he became a Christian and was in fact the first English monarch to be baptised before his succession to the throne.

Upon the assassination of Rædwald’s son, Eorpwald, Sigebehrt returned to take the throne of East Anglia. Nothing is known about how he did this, but given the violence prevalent at the time and the fact his prowess in battle was later chronicled, it seems likely he had to fight his way to the top. That he was a Christian wouldn’t have hurt his prospects either, what with Edwin of Northumbria and Eadbald of Kent both having converted to Christianity and having ties to the Frankish rulers, who may well have aided Sigeberht to take the crown.

However he managed it, he was the king by 629 and he promptly went about setting things in motion that would cement Christianity’s place in the kingdom. During his stay in France, Sigeberht had been impressed by the learning found in the religious schools on the Continent. So, after setting up a Burgundian missionary, Felix (yet another Saint!), as Bishop of Dommoc (possibly Dunwich), Sigeberht then secured the future of the Church by establishing a school, based on the model that he had witnessed in France, where boys could be taught reading and writing in Latin.

Saint Fursey (not sure which one he is!)

Furthering the Church’s influence in his kingdom, he then granted the Irish hermit Fursey (yes, another Saint!), a monastery site called Cnobheresburg, most commonly identified as Burgh Castle, near Great Yarmouth.

If it sounds as though Sigebehrt was obsessed with learning and the Church, you wouldn’t be wrong. He was clearly much more interested in the Church than in governing and being a warlord king of the people of East Anglia. We know this, because a few years after attaining the throne, he abdicates power to Ecgric, another of the Wuffingas dynasty, whereby he promptly retires to his monastery at Beodricesworth (Bury St Edmunds).

Now this is where the story gets really interesting, and what drew me to the character in the first place.

In 636 or thereabouts, that most successful of pagan warlords of the age, Penda of Mercia, attacked East Anglia. For some reason the people didn’t think Ecgric was up to the task of defending them, so they went to Beodricesworth and dragged their erstwhile king, Sigebehrt, out from his monastery, that he might save them from the invading Mercians.

Well, the peaceful, Christian Sigebehrt refused to fight, but his ex-subjects were having none of it and he was forced onto the battlefield unarmed and unarmoured to lead his people. I won’t give you details of what happened, but let’s just say that a robe and a cross are not great protection against spears and swords! And you already know he becomes Saint Sigebehrt, after his ***SPOILER ALERT*** martyrdom ***SPOILER ALERT***, so join the dots!

Battles are never pretty

Sigebehrt, might not be the most famous of kings of the Early Medieval period, but he was certainly influential in securing the Church in East Anglia, and his life was definitely interesting enough to spark inspiration in me to write a novel featuring him and his unfortunate end. And if being brave enough to step into the chaos and havoc of a Medieval battlefield without weapons or armour doesn’t make you heroic, I don’t know what does!

Who is your Dark Ages hero or heroine? Leave a comment below. I’d love to read your thoughts.

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Matthew Harffy is the author of the Bernicia Chronicles, a series of novels set in seventh century Britain. KILLER OF KINGS, which features Sigebehrt, Ecgric and the battle with Penda is now available in hardback, e-book and audio.

The other books in the series, The Serpent Sword, The Cross and the Curse, Blood and Blade and Warrior of Woden are available on Amazon, Kobo, Google Play, and all good bookstores.

Website: www.matthewharffy.com
Twitter: @MatthewHarffy
Facebook: MatthewHarffyAuthor

Images:
King Alfred: Odejea [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)]
King Arthur: Newell Convers Wyeth [Public domain]
Death of Harold: Myrabella [Public domain or CC0], from Wikimedia Commons
The Venerable Bede: The original uploader was Timsj at English Wikipedia. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Stained glass, Old Felixstowe Church: Copyright Andrew Hill
Sutton Hoo helmet: British Museum [CC BY-SA 2.5 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5) or Public domain]
Saint Fursey: Public Domain
La victoire de Tullus Hostilius sur les forces de Veies et de Fidena ---- Giuseppe Cesari [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Sutton Who? Who is buried at Sutton Hoo?

by Matthew Harffy

Sutton Hoo is one of the most important historical sites of Great Britain. The name derives from the Old English (Sutton = South farmstead and Hoo = someone who lives on a spur of a hill).

Sutton Hoo is situated near the village of Woodbridge on the River Deben in the county of Suffolk, the southern part of East Anglia. The history of the place can be split into two distinct eras: recent (from 1930s to the present day), and early medieval (from the early seventh century).

Mound 2 at Sutton Hoo

Before the owner of the house at Sutton Hoo, Mrs Edith Pretty, invited local archaeologist, Basil Brown, to dig into the many mounds that dotted an area of her land, there was nothing much to make Sutton Hoo stand out from a historical point of view. But, as the archaeologists dug into the sandy soil in 1939, uncovering perfect lines of rivets showing the shape of the overlapping planks of a great clinker-built ship buried beneath the largest mound, it quickly became apparent that Sutton Hoo had a historical importance none had imagined before then.

The village of Woodbridge and the river Deben
in the distance (viewed from Sutton Hoo)

All of the mounds had been disturbed over the centuries and most of the treasures that lay within had been stolen. But amazingly, although the largest mound (known as Mound 1) had suffered from the attentions of grave robbers in the sixteenth century (possibly the infamous Dr John Dee, who obtained a royal permit to dig for treasure in burial mounds in East Anglia), Brown found in 1939 that the main burial chamber that had been erected over the ship was largely undisturbed.

Reconstruction of the inside of Mound 1

At least it had not been disturbed by men; the earth had fallen in centuries ago, crushing the items stored within and damaging many of them. And of course, the passing of time had wreaked havoc with the organic materials and iron. However, the treasures that were pulled forth from the earth showed that the man buried in the ship was hugely wealthy, a pagan and almost certainly a king.

Basil Brown during the dig of Mound 1 in 1939

The most recognisable artefact is of course the Sutton Hoo helmet, the remains of which are now on display in the British Museum. Time has taken its toll on the helmet, but when we see a replica showing it as it would have been when worn and buried with its owner, we can but marvel at the workmanship and artistry.

Replica of the Sutton Hoo Helmet (by Ivor Lawton)

There were many other important pieces that came from the grave, each providing invaluable insight into the customs of the time and the identity of the man buried.

Among many other items of value, the following are a few of the most important finds from Mound 1:

• a large Byzantine silver bowl, which had travelled over 1,500 miles to reach its resting place
• thirty-seven gold coins 
• an ornate golden belt buckle 

Replica of the gold belt buckle

• two gold and garnet shoulder clasps 
• a harp 
• nine spears 
• a whetstone sceptre 

Replica of the whetstone sceptre

• a shield with intricate gold fittings

Replica of the shield and gold fittings

The excavation of the mounds was halted during the Second World War, but since that time the investigations of the site has continued to the present day, first under the direction of Rupert Bruce-Mitford (1965-71), then Martin Carver (1983-92). In subsequent digs since the war, many other graves have been found in the area around the mounds. It is believed that these newly-discovered bodies, which were buried with no grave goods, in shallow graves are from a later time. Looking at the evidence, they were probably criminals who had been hanged from a gallows near the highway that ran past the mounds.

The mounds at Sutton Hoo

Other mounds have also been excavated, shining more light into the darkness of the time when these mounds were erected. A young warrior is buried alongside his horse in Mound 17 and Mound 14 probably held the body of a woman, given the grave goods found.

Replica pattern welded sword

We will almost certainly never know who each of these people were due to the period when they were buried and the lack of documentary evidence in what is commonly known as the Dark Ages.

Nevertheless, there is enough evidence to pinpoint the age of the ship burial of Mound 1 as between 590 and 640. Weighing up the finds of such riches, along with the location of the mounds, only four miles from Rendlesham, where Bede says the King of East Anglia had his great hall, and the fact that the burial is pagan, it seems overwhelmingly likely that Mound 1 at Sutton Hoo is the ship burial of the great King Rædwald of East Anglia, who died in 624 or 625.

Artist's impression of King Rædwald

This of course takes us into the second historical era of Sutton Hoo. The early seventh century, when Christianity had yet to be adopted by all the kingdoms of Britain. A time when warrior kings of the Angles and the Saxons held sway over retinues of thegns and vied for power and territory with neighbouring kings in a way that could be compared to the gangs of modern-day cities or the cattle barons of the American West in the nineteenth century.

Such a man was Rædwald, ruler over East Anglia, one of the richest kingdoms of Britain. He had supposedly converted to Christianity when visiting Kent, but apostatised once more on his return to East Anglia where, instead of destroying the shrines to the old gods, he built new Christian shrines alongside them. Claiming Woden as one of his ancestors, as did all of the Anglo-Saxon kings of the time, he would have worn the great helmet that was buried with him into combat, not only as protection but as an indication of his wealth and extreme power.

Artist's impression of the interior of an Anglo-Saxon great hall

Rædwald’s power stretched well beyond the borders of East Anglia. When the young Edwin of Deira fled from his enemies in Northumberland, he ended up finding a safe haven in the hall of Rædwald. Edwin’s sworn enemy, King Æthelfrith, would rather avoid a war with a king as mighty as Rædwald but he clearly believed that the King of East Anglia could be swayed by gold. For we are told in Bede’s History of the English Church and People that Æthelfrith sent Rædwald increasingly large bribes in the form of coins in exchange for Edwin. It seems Rædwald was tempted by the offer until his wife famously told him that it was “altogether unworthy of so great a king to sell his good friend in such distress for gold, and to sacrifice his honour, which is more valuable than all other adornments, for the love of money”. And so, listening to his wife and recognising the wisdom of her words, Rædwald not only rejected Æthelfrith’s offer but instead lent his aid to Edwin and marched with him northward where together they defeated Æthelfrith. Thus Rædwald installed Edwin as King of Northumbria.

The National Trust Exhibition Hall at Sutton Hoo

Visiting the site today and seeing in the National Trust Exhibition Hall the stunning replicas of the grave goods that were buried with Rædwald to be carried into the afterlife in his great ship, one gets an idea of the powerful hold this man must have had on his people. And I think we must consider ourselves extremely fortunate that after 1,400 years and numerous attempts to rob the graves of Sutton Hoo, these most fabulous, iconic artefacts have been recovered and kept safe, allowing them to be witnessed and studied by history lovers for generations to come.

Image attribution:

All photos copyright Matthew Harffy, unless otherwise stated.
The image of the 1939 dig is by Harold John Phillips - Screen capture of image from home movie, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14677136

~~~~~~~~~~

Matthew Harffy is the author of the Bernicia Chronicles, a series of novels set in seventh century Britain. The latest book in the series, Warrior of Woden was released on 1^st April 2018.

The previous books in the series, The Serpent Sword, The Cross and theCurse, Blood and Blade and Killer of Kings are available on Amazon, Kobo, Google Play, and all good bookstores.

Kin of Cain, a standalone prequel novella, is currently free on Amazon worldwide.

Website: www.matthewharffy.com

Twitter: @MatthewHarffy

Facebook: MatthewHarffyAuthor

Yeavering – Anglo-Saxon Royal Palace

by Annie Whitehead

“So great is said to have been the fervour of the faith of the Northumbrians and their longing for the washing of salvation, that once when Paulinus came to the king and queen in their royal palace at Yeavering, he spent thirty-six days there occupied in the task of catechizing and baptising.” (HE II 14*)

The king in question is Edwin, seventh-century king of Northumbria, and the queen is his second wife, Æthelburg of Kent, known, according to Bede, by the nickname ‘Tate’.

Paulinus is said to have baptised people in the river Glen, which runs alongside the site of the palace. Visitors to the site will still be able to see the river, but of the palace, there is not a trace.

The view across the site towards the river

Archaeology has revealed that Yeavering at the time of Edwin’s reign was a magnificent royal vill. But Edwin didn’t build it. Rather, he rebuilt it.

What were Edwin, his wife, and the holy man Paulinus doing there? After all, it’s a forbidding place, surrounded by the towering Cheviot hills, windswept and desolate.

Edwin was technically the brother-in-law of the previous king of Northumbria, Æthelfrith, whose son, Oswald, was born to him by Edwin’s sister. Although in those days Northumbria was two distinct kingdoms, Deira (centred around York) and Bernicia (centred around Bamburgh), dynastic squabbles and bloody feuds meant that, periodically, one man ruled over both kingdoms.

The English kingdoms c. 600 (Public Domain)

In the seventh century, kings were gradually converting to Christianity.  It was no quick decision, and usually had some political element to it. Edwin was not about to make a spur of the moment conversion. The site of Yeavering was significant because it was in an area previously ruled over by Edwin's nemesis, Æthelfrith. Would conversion bring more power?

Edwin procrastinated, so much so that Pope Boniface wrote to him, and also to Edwin’s wife. Æthelburg was the daughter of Æthelberht, the Kentish king whom Augustine had converted, and a sister of Eadbald, the reigning king of Kent. When he wrote to her, Boniface urged her to bear in mind her Christian duty to evangelise, and included with his letter a gift of a silver mirror and a gold and ivory comb. To Edwin, he hinted that he would, by converting, put himself on an equal footing with the powerful king of Kent. This must have been quite an inducement.

Edwin evidently grasped what was expected of him, and offered a compromise – he expressed his willingness to convert if his advisers agreed, and undertook to place no obstacles in the way of missionary endeavour. He also offered a promise that took account of the position of Æthelburg, for he gave assurance that she and her retinue would be free to practice their own religion.

Paulinus, who travelled with ‘Tate’ from Kent, ‘bagged’ Edwin’s all-important royal soul, thus, according to Bede: when Edwin had been in exile in the court of Rædwald of East Anglia, an apparition came to him, promising him a kingdom, and salvation, if he would but remember by whose word this promise would be fulfilled. Paulinus now revealed himself now as the apparition by whose power Edwin had gained his kingdom. (HE II 12)

When the king and queen had produced a daughter, Eanflæd, Edwin was persuaded to allow Paulinus to baptise her in thanksgiving for his wife’s safe delivery.

Yeavering lies in what was the kingdom of Bernicia, forty miles north of Hadrian’s Wall, and about twenty miles inland from the great fortress of Bamburgh. It is a desolate and often a very cold place. Bede describes it as a royal vill, (town) and talks about the work of Paulinus there, but he also tells us that at some time later it was abandoned. Perhaps the archaeology and the history can be linked?

The site, showing the modern wall at the roadside

In 1949 an aerial photograph showed the marks of extensive buildings there, and the site was then excavated by Dr Hope Taylor.

He found that as a place of burial, Yeavering had a long prehistoric past. A big and seemingly elaborately defended cattle corral is likely to have gone back to the days when the area was ruled by British, not English, kings. Hope Taylor also discovered a series of buildings dating from the end of the sixth century to somewhat later than the middle of the seventh, corresponding to the reigns of Æthelfrith, Edwin, and Oswald.

Among the most important were a succession of halls. The largest, which he concluded was probably Edwin’s, was over 80 feet long and nearly 40 feet wide. Its walls were likely made of planks, 5 ½ inches thick. The fact that the post holes showed that timber were set up to eight feet into the ground, suggests that the walls must have been very high. There may have been a clerestory (a high section of wall that contains windows above eye level, with the purpose of letting in light, and/or fresh air). Its successor, probably dating to the reign of Oswald, Edwin’s nephew and successor, was equally grand.

Yeavering - digital 'fair use' image. (Attribution)

More remarkable still was a kind of grandstand, (top left of above image) shaped like a segment of a Roman amphitheatre, which stood facing a platform. When first built, possibly under Æthelfrith, it had accommodated about 150 people; later, perhaps under Edwin, it was enlarged to hold about 320.

It has been agreed that its only purpose can have been for meetings; and of a kind where one man on the platform, presumably the king, faced many. Perhaps it was here that Edwin consulted his amici, principes and consiliarii on the adoption of Christianity (though this debate more probably took place in York, where Edwin finally received his baptism.)

Yeavering in its heyday would have stood as a symbol of the might and power of Edwin, who, as one of the named ‘bretwaldas’ (overkings) in Bede’s list, wielded considerable power. A prince of Deira, he would have known the importance of establishing his authority across Bernicia, and building over the remnants of his predecessor’s hall.

And yet, the royal buildings at Yeavering were not fortified. Perhaps they should have been; there is evidence that the palace was destroyed by fire, not once, but twice, and the dates coincide with Bede’s records of Mercian incursions into Northumbria.

Additional finds included what may have been a pagan temple later converted to Christian use, and a building which might have been a small Christian church.

Yeavering, though a major centre for Bernicia, was by no means the only such centre these kings possessed. There was another, much more important, at Bamburgh, and other royal vills scattered through their kingdom, many of which may have had halls as grand. But the wonderful thing, for historians, is that we have the evidence for this one, even though there is now no trace of these once impressive and imposing buildings. To stand in this enormous field, (and it is a huge site) gazing out over the waters of the river Glen, and know that here stood the people whose lives I have studied, and written about, for years was, even on that very cold and blustery day, really quite moving. So little of Anglo-Saxon architecture remains, but thanks to Dr Hope Taylor, and to Bede, at least we know what once was here.

As to why it was, as Bede tells us, abandoned, well that remains a mystery, and one which neither the archaeology (which suggests 655, a time of Northumbrian supremacy) nor the history seem able to solve.

[*Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People]

~~~~~~~~~~

Annie Whitehead is an author and member of The Royal Historical Society. Her novels are all set in Anglo-Saxon Mercia and her latest, Cometh the Hour, includes the character of King Edwin, who was at turns related to, and then at war with the mighty pagan king, Penda.

Cometh the Hour
Amazon Author Page
Blog
Website

A sparrow's flight through King Edwin's great hall at Gefrin

by Matthew Harffy

One of the most famous sections in the Venerable Bede's Eccleciastical History of the English People (Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum) is when King Edwin, king of the Northumbrians calls a council of his wisest retainers to debate whether they should convert to Christianity. Bede reports that one of the "king's chief men" gave the following speech, in which he compared man's life to that of a sparrow flying through a hall in winter:

The present life of man upon earth, O king, seems to me, in comparison with that time which is unknown to us, like to the swift flight of a sparrow through the house wherein you sit at supper in winter, with your ealdormen and thegns, while the fire blazes in the midst, and the hall is warmed, but the wintry storms of rain or snow are raging abroad. The sparrow, flying in at one door and immediately out at another, whilst he is within, is safe from the wintry tempest; but after a short space of fair weather, he immediately vanishes out of your sight, passing from winter into winter again. So this life of man appears for a little while, but of what is to follow or what went before we know nothing at all. If, therefore, this new doctrine tells us something more certain, it seems justly to deserve to be followed.

Bede's Ecclesiastical History of England, ed. by A.M. Sellar, [1907]

There has been much debate about whether the words were truly spoken, or merely written by Bede as an elegant explanation of life and the hope that Christianity could provide to shine light into the darkness of where we have come from and where we are heading. Perhaps the words were spoken, but had been rehearsed and taught to the man by Paulinus, the Christian missionary who had come from Rome, by way of Kent, to preach to the people of England. Whatever the truth of the matter, the words eloquently sum up mankind's total lack of knowledge about what lies beyond the realms of this life, using a metaphor that is as easily understood by anyone now, as it would have been in the early seventh century.

Today of all days, the shortest day of the year, Geola (Yule), as the Anglo-Saxons knew it, we can all imagine the hall in winter, warm inside, protected from the winter chill. And yet there are things that conjure up the picture of the great hall of the early medieval period and give us a small insight into what the hall was like. We see that the hall has a fire that "blazes in the midst". The hearth-fire would provide a pleasant smoky heat for all those lucky enough to be inside, whilst the cold blustery British weather beat against the timbers outside, causing the building to creak and groan. The sparrow flies in one door and out at another, so we learn that the hall has more than one entrance. It would have had windows too, though they would have not been glazed. Wooden shutters would be closed against the night and the elements.

It is not clear where this congregation of Edwin's retinue took place, but it could well have been at Ad Gefrin, or simply Gefrin, (modern-day Yeavering, Northumberland), where one of Edwin's royal vils stood. There was a great hall there and several other buildings. Anglo-Saxon kings travelled their lands from hall to hall, at each place reaffirming to the populace their power, presiding in judgement over disputes and accepting tribute. These halls were dotted about the kingdom, and the king and his retinue would journey from one to the next throughout the year. One such hall and royal township was Gefrin.

Gefrin was mentioned by Bede, but its exact location was forgotten and lost for centuries. Until, in 1949, an aerial survey, carried out by Professor J. K. St. Joseph, revealed an impressive series of crop marks in a field just north of Yeavering Bell. The survey was looking for Roman camp remains, but what it uncovered was arguably one of the greatest archaeological finds of the twentieth century.

Aerial photograph taken by St Joseph, 9th July 1949 (enhanced)
Photo: Used with permission. Copyright Brian Cosgrove / The Gefrin Trust.

A young Cambridge scholar, Brian Hope-Taylor, carried out a detailed excavation of the site from 1953 to 1962. Hope-Taylor’s work revealed a complex of great timber halls, some over eighty-five feet (26m) in length. There were also ancillary buildings, such as kitchens, a weaving shed and what may have been a pagan temple, later converted to Christian use.

Brian Hope-Taylor
Photo: Copyright Brian Cosgrove / Gefrin Trust. Used with permission.

One of the most remarkable buildings discovered is a large timber grandstand. It was a tiered, wedge-shaped construction, where many could sit to listen to a single speaker at the bottom point of the wedge, much like a modern-day lecture theatre. It is quite possible that King Edwin’s audience with all of his thegns and nobles to discuss the future religion of the kingdom took place at this very site. Perhaps, it was where Paulinus preached to large groups of people before baptising them in the River Glen, as described by Bede. Whatever its true purpose, it is an unusual and singular find.

Digital reconstruction of the "theatre" building.
Photo: Copyright Brian Cosgrove / Gefrin Trust. Used with permission.

The building work on the site started in the 6th century and the settlement was occupied for over 150 years. There is evidence that many of the buildings were burnt around 633, probably as a result of the war with Cadwallon of Gwynedd (or at least that fits with the timeline).

In September 2013, I was lucky enough to travel to Gefrin as part of the research for my first novel, The Serpent Sword. The site is now owned by The Gefrin Trust. It has placed some plaques and signs at the entrance to the field, but there is little else there to show its historical importance.

I arrived in the late afternoon and the rain that had been beating down all day finally decided to give me some respite. It was overcast, with broken cloud. The sun was attempting to shine through, but failing.

Welcome to Gefrin.
Photo: Copyright Matthew Harffy

The gateway into the field is carved with goat heads and is evocative of the gables of the great hall that stood there in the early medieval period. (Gefrin means "hill of the goats".)

Gefrin: Hill of goats.
Photo: Copyright Matthew Harffy

As I stepped over the stile into the long, plush, rain-soaked grass, I was struck by the stillness. The large area is surrounded by brooding hills. Grey clouds billowed over the peak to the north. To the south, a farmer burnt some refuse on a bonfire, the smoke wafting on the slight breeze.

Brooding hills surround Gefrin.
Photo: Copyright Matthew Harffy

I traipsed through the grass, the rain drenching my trousers and feet (as I discovered that my hiking shoes were not at all waterproof!). A small brown bird, surprised at my approach, burst from the foliage and flew away, squeaking angrily.

I stood there, dimly aware of time ticking by, but for a moment lost from the bustle of modern civilization. As I surveyed the land around me, I could imagine the wooden buildings of Gefrin. The smoke could have come from the forge, where Strang, and his daughter Sunniva, worked the metal for spear points and tools. The view of the hills could have been partially blocked by the great hall, its wooden-shingled roof, bejewelled and glistening with the remnants of the rain. The unusual, tiered, amphitheatre-like structure, would have cast its shadow over the grass.

Flowers after the rain.
Photo: Copyright Matthew Harffy

The same flowers would have grown there. The same grass. It was easy to imagine how it would have been nearly 1,400 years ago.

A car sped by on the road, breaking the silence. I had to leave this place and head back to my hotel in Newcastle.

I drove through hills, small villages and forests, all the time thinking of the characters in my story walking these same lands, traversing tracks and old, crumbling Roman roads.

What there was before we were born is still a mystery to us today. What comes after this life is still as dark to us as to the sparrow flying out of the hall into the stormy night of midwinter. Something about this continuity of mankind’s lack of knowledge through the ages gladdens me. But then I think of the burning of the hall at Gefrin, when different peoples clashed over land and religion, killing those who disagreed with them, or stood in their way. And I think of the world today, at what we see daily in the news, and I realise, with great sorrow, that in 1,400 years so much is different, and yet, nothing has changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matthew Harffy lived in Northumberland as a child and the area had a great impact on him. The rugged terrain, ruined castles and rocky coastline made it easy to imagine the past. Decades later, a documentary about Northumbria's Golden Age sowed the kernel of an idea for a series of historical fiction novels. The first is the action-packed tale of vengeance and coming of age, The Serpent Sword. In The Serpent Sword you can read what happened to the great hall of Gefrin. The sequel, The Cross and The Curse is released on 22nd January 2016.

The Serpent Sword is available on Amazon.
The Cross and the Curse is available for pre-order on Amazon.

Website: www.matthewharffy.com
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References:
http://www.gefrin.com/
http://gefrintrust.org/
Bede's Ecclesiastical History of England, ed. by A.M. Sellar, [1907]