Not Just Observing—Holding Anglo-Saxon History at Oxford

It has been a while since my last post, and I can only apologise for this. Whilst it may appear I have done little writing publicly recently, I have been working on a post that has somewhat spiralled to be 5,000+ words. In due course, it shall reach the blog at some point (term procrastination dependent). However, for the last week, I have been on a much-deserved reading week (cue the groan from every other Oxfordian who didn’t have one, for which I am sorry your tutors are less generous). As part of this, I have participated in some fantastic classes, including a manuscript one and a handling session of Anglo-Saxon artefacts. While it was a tremendous experience, I was also struck by how these objects ended up with us today. (Spoiler: most of the artefacts I handled this morning had been found in graves…) So, in this week's post (and yes, these are supposed to be weekly, but it’s only me keeping myself accountable), I want to explore my experience of handling and viewing these artefacts in light of their survival. I apologise for what will be a very nerdy post...

 

Handling Anglo-Saxon Artefacts:

This morning, our course convenor met us at the Ashmolean Museum for a specially planned handling session. We spent just over an hour on the museum's third floor—behind a panel of another exhibition—studying the carefully laid-out items. Throughout the session, it reminded me that it is experiences like these that make me incredibly grateful to be at Oxford. However, I couldn’t help but be struck by the awareness that these were, in fact, grave goods. As such, by discussing the session, I hope to illuminate some of the issues historians and archaeologists face in pursuing their studies.

A large selection of the objects we viewed were aspects of dress. Now, these ‘aspects’ can be defined as the materials used to pin and decorate the dress of the Anglo-Saxon peoples. Laid out for us by the museum was a selection of brooches, small pins and clothing clasps. These items were, as I have already stated, found in graves. It has been used daily to dress individuals, but most importantly, it has been used to accompany them to the grave. These items in the grave can ascribe a specific value to the items in question. Perhaps, it was a favourite brooch that the person wore for decorative purposes, or maybe it was a brooch for fixing their peplos outfits. Whilst many items, such as the square-headed brooches, were beautifully gilded, the uncomfortable nature of their removal from their grave can pose some ethical concerns.

While I felt like a ‘real’ historian for an hour, removing grave goods can benefit the historian and archaeologist. By removing these items, we can study and conserve them. This helps to build up our understanding of how people dressed or even how individuals showed their individuality or status in the Anglo-Saxon world. In addition, we can use various techniques such as radiocarbon dating and dendrochronology (mainly in terms of the organic matter here) to narrow down the period in which objects were created. This has been revolutionary in the last few decades in showing the developments of societies over smaller periods. Again, archaeology can help show society the complexities of pre-written societies. Anglo-Saxon England was thought of as primitive in the time of E.T. Leeds’s digs, yet through archaeological analysis, we can challenge this narrative. This can help us see the developments of building techniques, craftsmanship, and societal evolutions in religious practice. All of this is invaluable to the study of history. Yet, we cannot escape the potential ethical concerns of removing these objects.

However, removing objects from their place of burial can create ethical issues. I remember walking through the Ashmolean with my college wife last year. She felt a distinct unease as I headed off to go and look at the Ancient Egypt section, particularly around the mummies on display. The removal of the deceased and placing them on display so far away from their intended resting place can, to some, be a problematic idea. In some cases, religious ideals may push people to keep the deceased in their place of burial. For some, it is also an idea of respecting the deceased’s remains and leaving them. Whilst this has been achieved in some cases – such as in Ancient Egypt with the remains of Tutankhamun – it is still rare. A boom of excavations in the late 19^th century saw many remains sold off in auctions. In the Leicester Museum and Art Gallery, the mummified remains of an unknown individual reside in the coffin of another individual. This is a perfect example of Egyptomania spreading amongst the nation’s collectors. These fads and lasting placement in museums can cause issues not just for museums but also for their viewers – leaving some uncomfortable with the morbidity they present.

So, the uncomfortable nature of removing and selling remains can be understood, but what about artefacts? Indeed, in the case of these, they help to further our understanding. Isn’t that a good thing?

Ultimately, the removal of goods can be a good thing. In Anglo-Saxon society, grave goods often help to tell us about key social and economic changes. (My tutors will be delighted to see that I have picked up on the fundamental themes of this term.) In the example of burial, personal clothing items can help show how people dressed and the differences between people. Those of a lower social order may not have had such elaborate brooches with rich garnets and intricate gilding or metalwork. These artefacts are, therefore, invaluable to our understanding of burial differences in this regard. By removing them and studying these artefacts, we can further our knowledge as historians, but most importantly, we can further the public’s enrichment of the past by placing these in museums. Putting these into museums helps increase awareness of the complexities of these societies and generates an interest in history and archaeology. I am sure many of my classmates wouldn’t have chosen their degrees had we all not been taken around museums and sites of historical interest when we were much younger. This is something I often see in families with small children viewing objects and generating conversation. It is precious, and despite any ethical concerns, we can help further our interest and understanding of the past by unearthing these objects.

Manuscripts: Reading the Past Through Ink and Parchment

Moving away from my exciting morning at the Ashmolean, I also spent two riveting hours this afternoon at the Weston Library looking at manuscripts. Here, we looked at content ranging from the 16^th century to the 8^th century. This was invaluable for seeing the development of manuscripts and their preservation and how we can apply this to our studies. It was a thoroughly engaging session.

Our first manuscript was from the 16^th century. It was incredibly sturdy, featuring metal across the front of the book and on its back. The book was bound by deer skin – giving it a ‘fluffy’ appearance. This, as we were told, is important. Deer had to be hunted, and it showed the extravagance in the manuscript by featuring it. In addition, the pages were made of animal skin, too. Now, how did we know this? The pages often featured holes in them – these would have been small on the animal, most likely a sheep, and stretched out when pages were created. The most unique feature of the manuscript was the inclusion of extra fabric at the top and bottom of the spine. We aren’t exactly sure what it was used for, but we guessed it could have been used to protect the book in storage. These massive manuscripts would have been stored, likely lying flat (not how we store books today). Complexly constructed this manuscript – a text on Saint Columba – would likely have been placed on a lectern and intended to be a grand text. There were even spaces left for illumination – further suggesting the texts’ intentions.

The other manuscripts we looked at were less complexly constructed as they had been rebound. This was a common practice with books as they aged—often having mould—and needed to be reconstructed. As such, no bounding of such great intricacy was seen throughout the rest of the session, but the text's constructions themselves remained highly intriguing.

One of the most interesting things about the class was the discussion surrounding text and its structure. As we observed in our session, the earlier scripts had large spaces around the edges of the writing and were often in sections. Think of the earlier texts as in columns – like a newspaper today. Meanwhile, the later texts had more structures similar to modern books. In addition, text developed to be of a similar size, easier to read (less calligraphy), and some texts even started to show punctuation. The inclusion of punctuation was undoubtedly fascinating. Sometimes, someone would return to the texts a century or two after their creation and add commas. By doing this they made the ‘block-style’ text easier to read. This was because earlier text often had no punctuation and no paragraphing. Perfect for the avid reader who may wish to read an entire book in one evening, but not for the slower of us out there. The development of text and the addition of annotations were fascinating. We can see how people viewed the text when it was created and changed it in the following years; its existence today is truly spectacular. Literature certainly has its uses, and although I cannot read old English, the development of the writing over time through its lettering was certainly insightful.

In addition to the textual developments, the different inks used are worth exploring more. Across one of the examples – a set of three bound books made into one – the Carolingian book had various inks. It included reds, yellows, greens, blue and black. There was also an attempt at using silver to add illumination in places to the text. This, as we were told, can be identified from the much darker staining where the attempt had been made – the silver mix had oxidised. Utilising such colours could add character to the work and also indicate the understanding of the scribe for the environment around them. All inks would have been made of natural materials – so plants would likely have been used to add pigment to these. The knowledge of the world around you, therefore became crucial to scribes who wished to expand the materials they used in their work. An understanding of plants gave them new opportunities for dyes. Inks, as such, were crucial distinguishing factor of knowledge in this period.

The topic of preservation also came up. At the Weston Library, these manuscripts are kept in boxes to avoid exposure to sunlight. In some cases, the inks used can cause specific texts to erode. In some cases, the binding of these books can deteriorate. Medieval texts were often bound through sewing – using textiles. Unfortunately, in some cases, these books can become damaged. The solution to this problem is to cut down the original manuscript and rebind it. As we have already established, there was ample white space around the original manuscript, so late restorers had no issue cutting down these texts to smaller ones. The introduction of glue as a binding material was significant. Most books are also glued, but it does also suggest problems with the quality of later repairs. Sometimes, books have been rebound more than once. Their preservation is obviously good for us, but it also concerns that they must be repaired so often. Learning about the upkeep of these manuscripts helped me find an appreciation for this source in a period in which written sources are often fewer in quantity.

Reflecting on my experience seeing these manuscripts, I can only think of one word: incredible. Knowing that these manuscripts had been crafted with intentions to last for an extended period – as indicated by their construction – and exist today and that I got to see them was thrilling as a history student. There are days when I sit in the library and find my workload slightly too much, but today was a great day. It isn’t every day you get to see a book from the 8^th century, let alone be allowed to peer at it without a glass screen. I come away from this with a renewed appreciation for sources in my subject and cannot thank my tutors enough for the opportunity.