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[Disclaimer: This text is very old (18 years or more) and now frequently out of date in its details.

My own views – like everyone else’s have moved on in the interim, of course. I make it available
again as a very basic introduction but it should be used with some care and not taken as indicative
of my views and understandings in 2013.]

Early Medieval Cemeteries: An Introduction to Burial Archaeology


in the Post-Roman West.
By Guy Halsall.

Contents
Early Medieval Cemeteries: An Introduction to Burial Archaeology in the Post-Roman West......................................... 1
1. Why Study Cemeteries? ................................................................................................................................................. 3
2. A descriptive account of early medieval burial practice................................................................................................. 5
i. Lowland Britain. ............................................................................................................................................... 5
ii. 'Northern Gaul' (Northern France, Belgium, the Rhineland and the southern Netherlands). ................................. 7
iii. Southern Germany. ......................................................................................................................................... 10
iv. North-Western Germany. ................................................................................................................................ 11
v. Scandinavia. .................................................................................................................................................... 12
vi. The 'Celtic Fringe'. .......................................................................................................................................... 13
vii. Southern France. ............................................................................................................................................. 14
viii. Italy............................................................................................................................................................. 16
ix. Spain. .............................................................................................................................................................. 17
Notes. ....................................................................................................................................................................... 17
3. Graves of the Rich and Famous.................................................................................................................................... 22
i. The Grave of Childeric I ................................................................................................................................. 22
ii. Sutton Hoo Mound 1....................................................................................................................................... 22
iii. 'The Grave of Arnegundis'. ............................................................................................................................. 23
iv. Vendel-Valsgärde ........................................................................................................................................... 24
Notes. ....................................................................................................................................................................... 24
4. Dating Cemeteries. ....................................................................................................................................................... 26
Methods. ................................................................................................................................................................... 26
Results. ..................................................................................................................................................................... 29
Notes. ....................................................................................................................................................................... 35
5. Interpreting Cemeteries (1): Ethnicity and Religion. ................................................................................................... 37
i. Ethnicity. ......................................................................................................................................................... 37
ii. Religion........................................................................................................................................................... 40
Notes. ....................................................................................................................................................................... 41
6. Interpreting Cemeteries (2): Society and Economy. ..................................................................................................... 43
i. Wealth and social standing in the so-called Reihengräberzivilisation. ........................................................... 43
ii. Other possibilities. .......................................................................................................................................... 45
iii. Economics....................................................................................................................................................... 46
iv. Analysing cemeteries without grave-goods. ................................................................................................... 46
v. Conclusion. Cemeteries and the historian. ..................................................................................................... 46
Notes. ....................................................................................................................................................................... 47
Appendix:The Bizarre World of Funerary Archaeology... ............................................................................................... 49
Glossary. ........................................................................................................................................................................... 50

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Dedication.
For my students, past and present: I owe them more than they realise.

Acknowledgments.
This booklet owes most to the people who introduced me to the study of early medieval
cemetery archaeology at the University of York: Dr. Edward James, Dr. Tania Dickinson, Professor
Philip Rahtz and Dr. Julian Richards. If this book is at all valuable, much of the credit must be laid at
their door, for inspiring me to investigate post Roman funerary practices as a source for early medieval
social history.

I must thank Liz Marsland for acting, alongside my father, as the guinea pig on whom I tested
the clarity or otherwise of early drafts of the text.

Note.
The first mention of cemetery site is indicated in bold.
The first appearance of a word contained in the glossary is marked by an asterisk (*).

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1. Why Study Cemeteries?
Old Woman: Do you dig graves?
Neil: Yeah, they're all right.
'The Young Ones'
(Elton, Mayall & Mayer; BBC 1984).

Cemetery archaeology provides one of the most important sources for early medieval social
history. Thousands of cemeteries have been excavated across Europe, yielding tens of thousands of
graves, and hundreds of thousands of funerary artefacts, be they objects which adorned the corpse or
the clothing in which it was buried, or those laid in the grave separately (collectively referred to as
grave-goods), coffin fittings, grave stones or other memorials. The interest in early medieval
cemeteries was largely inspired by the fact that these sites were a ready source of objects for museum
and even private collections.

We have, nonetheless, been fortunate in this antiquarianism. The disposal of the dead tells us
much about society and about how people perceived themselves and their world. Mortuary practice,
with its vast potential variability (as described in chapter 2) and susceptibility to frequent change, is a
dynamic field of human activity. It is easy to overestimate the conservatism of burial customs. At first
sight, it looks as though the standard, christianized practice of inhumation* without grave-goods has
been constant in England for the past 1,200 years, until cremation's reintroduction during this century.
Were we to open a mid-nineteenth-century grave, it might not seem very different from a grave one or
even two hundred years older; the dead had simply been wrapped in a shroud, and buried in a wooden
coffin. This, however, is to look at only one part of a funeral. We know from other evidence that
there were important differences in the treatment of the dead between death and burial, and that the
monument erected over the grave could vary greatly too. Change also occurred in funeral services, in
the forms of mourning and in the nature of the funeral itself. Early modern historians have profitably
begun to investigate the social implications of such changes in mortuary behaviour.

In the early middle ages, as in classical antiquity, burial practices were equally subject to
change.(1) The important difference between these and modern graves is that changes are visible
within the grave itself, and are thus detectable in the archaeological record. In this booklet I wish to
examine the variability of post-Roman burial and the ways in which it changed, and to give some idea
of how cemetery evidence can be used to cast light on early medieval society.

This work is intended as a primer for archaeology undergraduates, as well as a brief


introduction to cemetery archaeology for history undergraduates studying the early medieval period
and faced with references to burials, grave-goods and conclusions drawn from them. I also hope that
this booklet will be of value to people outside university history and archaeology departments who are
interested in the early medieval past. Indeed another object of the work is to help to rescue the
archaeology of cemeteries from the misconceptions which surround them.(2) The archaeology of
cemeteries serves more interesting purposes than to fulfil the supposedly 'grisly' or 'morbid' fetishes of
cloistered academics!

This subject is difficult to broach without extensive illustration, so I have restricted the
discussion to a consideration of burial customs and their study. Funeral artefacts, their typologies and
development cannot be tackled here except in the most general fashion. Similarly, for reasons of
space, I have not discussed the problems of the excavation and publication of cemetery sites, and duly
acknowledge this lacuna. I have usually limited my foot-notes to studies in English. Works in other
languages have been confined to general volumes and those with lavish illustration. To save space, and

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because it is unlikely that such references will be of much practical value in an introductory volume
such as this, site reports in languages other than English are not cited.

The paper covers Britain and Ireland, Scandinavia, France, western Germany, Italy, Spain and
'Benelux'. A large part of this geographical mass had formed part of the Western Roman Empire and
it is upon these regions that I shall focus, looking in particular at Anglo-Saxon England and
Merovingian Gaul, areas where cemetery studies have featured prominently in early medieval
historiography. The cemeteries of the Celtic areas of western Britain, Ireland and Brittany, as well as
those of Spain, Italy and, to a far lesser extent, southern France have hitherto received less attention
than they deserve. Here I will at least describe the practices of these neglected regions, suggest reasons
for this neglect, and suggest some ideas for future investigation.

Chronologically, the paper spans the period between the mid-fourth and mid-eighth centuries,
a coherent era in general, political historical terms, but one which also saw the rise and fall of a
particular burial rite. This was the last period when furnished inhumation, burial with grave-goods, was
common across most of western Europe. Within this period of 400 years there was huge variability
and change in the funerary customs of western Europe, and this needs to be described.

Notes.

1 See, above all, I. Morris's excellent book, Death Ritual and Social Structure in Classical Antiquity
(Cambridge 1992).

2 On this problem, see C. Roberts, 'Burial archaeology: the holistic approach' in Burial Archaeology.
Current Research, Methods and Development, ed. C. Roberts, F. Lee & J. Bintliff, British
Archaeological Reports (British Series) [BAR(B)] 211 (Oxford, 1989), pp.1-4, at p.2.

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2. A descriptive account of early medieval burial practice.

i. Lowland Britain.(1)
In fourth-century Roman Britain, inhumation was the most common burial rite. The
deceased was interred dressed and accompanied by grave-goods, typically comprising vessels: ceramic,
glass, and bronze. Grave-goods were becoming increasingly rare, though a small number of exceptions
to this rule are known, where the dead was buried with items such as knives. The classic site on which
these transformations can be observed is that of Lankhills in Winchester.(2)

Early in the fifth century, new rites appeared which persisted throughout the 'early Anglo-
Saxon' period and beyond. These burials can be termed 'early Anglo-Saxon', without necessarily
placing any definite ethnic interpretation upon them.(3) One new rite was inhumation with much
more lavish grave-goods than had earlier been the norm. The grave-goods were also of noticeably
different forms to those of fourth-century inhumations. The dead were buried in the supine position,
with legs usually extended, though often flexed to some degree. Arms were positioned by the sides, or
crossed on the chest or pelvis. The deceased was rarely buried in a crouched position. The grave was
commonly a Simple Trench (ST)* grave, though there were occasionally structures in or over the grave
(see below). It could take a number of shapes, from rectangular to ovoid with all shades in between. It
should be stressed that the grave's shape and size were not the results of chance but seem to have
resulted from deliberate choices made by those involved in its construction. The body was usually
oriented west-east (i.e. with the head to the west) though there are many variations and north-south
graves are not uncommon in early phases.

The body was interred dressed. We find the dress adjuncts, the objects which served to adorn
and/or fasten the clothing worn: buckles, brooches, dress pins, wrist-clasps and so on. To these was
added, in female burials, jewellery: bracelets, necklaces, earrings and hairpins. Other specifically female
grave-goods can be quite numerous, including thread boxes, girdle hangers, and so on. Men and
women could be buried with new types of hand-made pottery and other vessels. Males, however, were
most noticeably buried with weapons, above all spears and shields. Swords are less common, and
arrowheads extremely rare.

The other new type of funeral rite was cremation. The body was burnt, and the remains buried
in a hand-made decorated pot. Occasional un-urned cremation burials have been reported, and some
see the urn itself placed in a bronze bowl. Grave-goods were often buried with the pot;(4) they could
also be burnt with the body. Several writers have noted that burnt and unburnt grave-goods
sometimes form discrete groups. The former include female objects but, since these are usually dress
adjuncts, this is perhaps not surprising. In recent years, it has been realized that the way in which the
corpse was laid out prior to the construction of the pyre over the body resembled the way in which
bodies were laid in contemporary inhumations. Probably the best-known Anglo-Saxon cremation
cemeteries are Spong Hill (Norfolk), and Sancton (Humberside).(5)

The range of grave-goods accompanying cremations is similar to that placed in inhumation


burials, but there are important differences. Less than 1% of cremations contained weapons, as
opposed to about 18% of inhumations.(6) Cremations and inhumations can be found in varying
proportions within the same cemetery, though there are also exclusively inhumation cemeteries, and a
smaller number of purely cremation cemeteries.(7) Cremation and furnished inhumation appeared at
about the same time. At Spong Hill no consistent conclusions about the relative chronology of the
two rites were at first possible, though it now seems that the inhumations were a secondary feature.(8)

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It is worth pointing out that significant regional variations exist within lowland Britain. These
concern not only the proportions of cremations and inhumations, and the occurrence of particular rites
and funerary structures, but also dress styles and the kinds of grave-goods buried.

Another rite is termed 'half cremation' by Meaney. Here a fire appears to have been lit in the
grave before an inhumation took place. Welch also notes that in some graves burnt branches and
other charred wood are found in the upper levels of a grave's fill.(9) Meaney states that occasionally
the body itself was partially burned. One of the examples she cites seems insecure; the other, at
Kempston (Beds.), was apparently surrounded by branches. Perhaps here a fire lit to purify the grave
had burnt out of control. We will encounter a similar rite in 'northern Gaul'. There are occasional
reported cases of animal burials accompanying human graves; recently the grave of a horse was located
under one of the barrows* at Sutton Hoo (Suffolk).(10)

We may also note burials in which the deceased's skull was removed before burial, occasionally
to be replaced between or besides the legs. Graves with 'extra' skulls, have been reported, as have
'sacrificial' inhumations, in which a second skeleton was apparently flung into the grave after the
careful burial of the first occupant. As with 'decapitated' burials and graves with extra skulls, such
instances must be treated with caution; such archaeological traces could be produced in many more
mundane ways . An earlier burial might, for example, be disturbed by a later one before
decomposition had taken effect, and the body then casually reinterred on top of the secondary burial.
Thus an articulated* skeleton might well be found in an unusual posture on top of a more carefully
positioned body, but would have little to do with it being a struggling live burial, or the burial of a
sacrificed slave! We usually lack the detailed excavation records required for acceptance of these
allegedly unusual burial rites.

One famous 'sacrificial' burial, well excavated and published is that at Sewerby (Humberside)
where a female was reportedly thrown alive into the grave of a young woman, her body weighed down
with a small rock thrown onto the small of her back. This has not found universal acceptance,
however.(11) Less controversy, but greater incomprehension, attends the recent excavation at Sutton
Hoo of burials around the famous barrow cemetery, in which the subjects showed traces of mutilation,
broken necks, and even one instance of a person interred in a ploughing stance, complete with plough.
Clearly 'deviant' burial rites are therefore known, and some at least probably represent the results of
execution or other 'ritual trauma'. We must be cautious, however, of equating them with emotive
concepts such as sacrifice or pagan religion. Religious interpretations of cemetery evidence receive
fuller treatment in chapter 5.

Grave markers of varying kinds have been discovered. Most famously, these include barrows,
which can cover inhumations or cremations. There are three main types of barrow burial. 'Secondary
barrow burials', are where the deceased was buried in an already extant prehistoric barrow. This is
common in the Peak District and the Yorkshire Wolds. At Uncleby (Humberside) the barrow was
used as a cemetery by an entire community, as was not infrequent in that part of the world.(12)

The other two types of barrow burial are termed 'primary barrow burials': barrows built
specifically for the early medieval burial which they cover. One such type is the isolated primary
barrow burial. These are often extremely well furnished with grave-goods (e.g. Asthall, Oxon; Benty
Grange, Derbyshire; Taplow, Bucks.).(13) The third form of barrow is the primary barrow cemetery.
These seem to have appeared slightly earlier in the late sixth century than the isolated barrows and
secondary barrow burials. They are often difficult to date, however, as they can be poor in grave-
goods. They are commonest in southern England: the Isle of Wight, Kent, Surrey and Sussex. The
most famous barrow cemetery of all is of course Sutton Hoo. Here nineteen large and evidently
lavishly furnished barrow burials (both inhumations and, seemingly more commonly, cremations)

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overlook the estuary of the river Deben (most were, at least partially, robbed at various times up to the
nineteenth century). In the lavish furnishing of the graves, they have some characteristics of isolated
barrows, but here they are joined by the horse burial and bizarre unfurnished inhumations mentioned
above (the 'ploughman burial' and the possible execution burials), some of which were grouped around
Mound 5.(15)

Another of the many unusual features at Sutton Hoo is the fact that at least some of the
barrows were piled over boats buried with the dead. In the case of the celebrated Mound 1 burial
excavated just before the Second World War (see ch.3) the ship's outline was revealed by the position
of ship rivets. The famous grave-goods were inside this boat. In mound 2, however, the body was
interred under the boat. Boat burial is rare in early Anglo-Saxon England and clearly localised in East
Anglia. The most famous example outside Sutton Hoo is that, not far away, at Snape.(16) Still in East
Anglia, the cemetery at Caister-on-Sea allegedly contained graves covered by planks taken from the
sides of small rowing boats.(17)

Other grave structures include ledges within the grave, and sockets on the grave's edges, as well
as post-holes outside the grave and ring and penannular ditches* around the burials.(18) Hogarth has
suggested the presence of wooden tent-like structures above some graves. Some cremations had
wooden 'houses of the dead' erected over them, as at Apple Down (W. Sussex).(19)

The burial rites described above were eventually replaced, some time between the late seventh
and late eighth centuries, by unfurnished inhumation in a local churchyard. It would, however, be
mistaken to think that they had remained static between their appearance in the fifth century and their
eventual demise. As mentioned, various forms of barrow burial only appeared around 600 AD.
Cremation died out in the early seventh century, well before classic furnished inhumation, but the latter
too underwent significant change.

Seventh-century burials differ from their fifth- and sixth-century precursors. They are often
referred to as 'final phase' burials(20) and are characterized by less lavish grave-goods, and grave-goods
of rather different type. Perhaps the best-known 'final phase' site is cemetery II at Winnall
(Hants.).(21) Weapon burials, for example, become fewer and more standardized.(22) Female
artefacts take different forms, with fewer lavish displays of jewellery. Not surprisingly, one corollary of
this is that unfurnished burials and those simply accompanied by a knife increase significantly in
number. Importantly too, we see new cemeteries established, away from the earlier sites (which seem
to have frequently been located on boundaries between territories) and closer to settlements.(23)

Early Anglo-Saxon burial in lowland Britain, though taking on some clear standard forms, is,
then, characterized by significant ritual diversity and frequent change.(24)

ii. 'Northern Gaul' (Northern France, Belgium, the Rhineland and the southern
Netherlands).(25)
The standard burial customs of fourth-century 'northern Gaul' were very similar to those of
contemporary Britain; inhumation predominated, with decreasing grave-goods, usually ceramic and
other vessels. In the later fourth century, so rather earlier than in lowland Britain, lavishly furnished
inhumation began to occur. Such new burials tended to appear in small groups within large Roman
cemeteries. They were characterized by inhumation of the body, dressed in more elaborate, and
archaeologically visible, costume. Plaque-buckles* and 'crossbow brooches' are found in graves of
both sexes. Women were buried with a wide range of jewellery; bracelets and necklaces are common
across the region. In the lower Rhineland and north-western France, these are joined by new brooch
styles, hairpins and so on. Male graves were often accompanied by weapons: spears, arrowheads,
shields, axes and swords. Pottery and other vessels were placed in graves of both sexes. North-south

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orientation was more than usually common. Perhaps the most famous of these new burials are the
'chieftain's grave' ('tombe de chef') at Vermand (Aisne, France), the lavish female burial on the same
site, and the male grave from Monceau-le-Neuf (Aisne).(26)

Furnished inhumation declined in frequency during the mid-fifth century, but burst back into
popularity the end of the century. Late fifth-century burials are subtly different from their late fourth-
and fifth-century precursors. At the beginning of the new series of furnished burials stands the 'grave
of Childeric I' (see ch.3) and the lavish 'chieftain's burials' known as the Flonheim-Gültlingen group,
the distinguishing feature of which is their swords with gold cloisonn‚ decoration. As before, the dead
were inhumed, usually dressed, accompanied by grave-goods, but the deposition of grave-goods was
far more common than it had been between 350 and 450. At Lavoye (Meuse), for example, 78% of
burials of the period c.525-c.600 had grave-goods. Perhaps the best-known (and largest) Merovingian
cemetery is Krefeld-Gellep (Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany) where over 5,000 graves have been
excavated by a team led by R. Pirling.

Graves take numerous forms. Plain ST graves of varying shapes and sizes are common. The
sides may be shored up with wooden revetments, as at Veldhoven in the Netherlands. More
commonly observed are stone-lined graves, often referred to as cists*. The stone 'lining' can come in
various types, from a token stone at the head and foot of the burial, through to elaborately faced and
mortared masonry walls. The cist may be covered (and even floored as well) with large flagstones, or
by a rougher stone roof. Where no stone roof has been found it is likely that a plank covering
originally existed. Finally there were burials in stone or (in the Paris region) plaster sarcophagi*.
Within the grave the body could be laid on the ground, on a wooden stretcher or in a wooden coffin.

Characteristically, cemeteries are laid out more or less neatly in rows (though sometimes this
organization broke down completely during the period of the cemetery's use!). This feature has led to
the use of the term Reihengräber (row-graves) for these burials, and consequently Reihengräberfeld
(row-cemetery; French cimetière par rangées) for the cemeteries, and even Reihengräberzivilisation*
(Row-grave civilisation) for the archaeological culture recovered from northern Gaul, southern
Germany and lowland Britain. West-east orientation, with slight variations, was the rule. As in
lowland Britain, many cemeteries were located away from habitation, possibly on territorial boundaries.
Others are found beside or underneath settlement sites, however. The relationship between settlement
and cemetery is blurred and requires more detailed study than it has hitherto received.

Superficial similarities to Anglo-Saxon practice existed. Female grave-goods typically


comprised jewellery and dress adornments and masculine items included weaponry. There were
differences however, in the kinds of artefact and the forms they took. Shields are relatively common in
graves of Anglo-Saxon adult males, but rare in 'north Gaulish' burials. On the other hand, males were
buried with swords much more often in 'north Gaul' than in lowland Britain. In contrast to Anglo-
Saxon England there were far more male than female types of grave-good, largely because men were
often buried with pouches containing evidently masculine items such as flints, strike-a-lights, awls,
tweezers and so on. As in lowland Britain, a wide range of grave-goods was buried with both sexes:
knives (more often in male graves, however), shears, combs, Gallo-Roman "antiques" (including coins),
ceramic, glass and bronze vessels containing food and drink, and so on. Animal, fish or bird bones,
nutshells and snail and other invertebrate shells are also found, the latter occasionally being placed
around the body. There are regional variations, as in lowland Britain, often relating to clothing styles
(brooches seem more common in Picardy than Lorraine for example), and burial is generally more
lavish the further north one moves from the centres of Merovingian royal power in the Paris basin.
Conversely, grave-goods become fewer as one moves further south into Burgundy or towards the
Loire.

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The body was almost always interred in the supine position, but with a similar variety of
arrangements of the limbs as occurred in lowland Britain. Occasional variant rites are attested.
Cremations are known from the lower Rhineland and the Netherlands throughout our period, though
they are usually in a small minority (e.g. two or three cremations to about 150 inhumations at Bergeijk,
Netherlands). Some early examples are known from the famous cemetery of Rhenen in the
Netherlands, which was used more or less continuously between the late fourth and early eighth
centuries. The ashes could be buried in urns, boxes or even in no container.

So-called 'half-cremation' has been reported, though never satisfactorily explained. Its usual
description as 'feux rituels' (ritual fires) in the region's archaeological literature is an example of
archaeology's hoariest in-joke - that any object or archaeological trace whose function cannot be
explained is best described as ritual... Occasionally a fire may have been lit in the grave, perhaps to
purify it before the body was interred. Often the evidence looks more like ashes from feasting by the
burial, swept into the grave as it was filled in.

Face-down (prone) burial has been noted, though rarely with any certainty. Examples from
Bulles (Oise) are among the few sure instances. There are cases of other 'immobilized burials'. At
Château-sur-Salins (Jura) one corpse had its legs removed and placed in a separate stone chamber. In
some graves the deceased had literally been nailed down (an example at Ottange, Meurthe-et-Moselle,
is apparently certain: others are less sure). Cases where the dead were fixed in their grave by weighing
them down with rocks are to be viewed with caution. The examples at the interesting site of Audun-le-
Tiche (Moselle) seem to represent stones placed on top of the stone chamber's wooden cover, which
fell into the grave when this rotted away.(27) Another immobilization ritual is head-removal. As in
lowland Britain, many alleged cases of this are not beyond suspicion, but some instances are beyond
doubt. Audun-le-Tiche grave 103 contains two adolescent males buried together with arms linked.
Their heads were carefully removed, post-mortem, as all the vertebrae were present (violent
decapitation removes the top two vertebrae) and the bodies buried with the top of the spinal column
touching the mortared stone wall of the grave.

Audun-le-Tiche grave 103 introduces the subject of double burial. This is most common in the
east of 'northern Gaul'. The two bodies were often buried with linked arms. This led many early
excavators to describe these burials as those of man and wife, but physical anthropology reveals that in
most well documented cases (e.g. Audun-le-Tiche and Ennery, Moselle, 'graves' 6 and 8) both subjects
were men. Finally we might note, on region's northern edges, isolated instances of the burial of horses,
as at Rhenen and near to the 'grave of Childeric I' at Tournai (see ch.3). This practice is more common
in Germany.

A point often ignored in British archaeology is that funeral customs underwent great change in
'northern Gaul' during the seventh century, as in lowland Britain. Grave-goods became fewer and
more standardized. Weapons and extensive jewellery were less often buried and consequently there
was less archaeologically visible difference between male and female graves. The deposition of
ceramics and other vessels became much scarcer too, especially in newly created cemeteries. Alongside
the decrease in grave-goods, the cemeteries appear to have become smaller and more numerous,
implying a substantial foundation of new cemeteries at this time, as in lowland Britain. The century
also saw an increased concern, again as in Anglo-Saxon England, with permanent, above-ground
markers. On a small scale these included grave-stones (e.g. Vorges, Aisne), walls around graves or
groups of graves, stone crosses (e.g. Audun-le-Tiche) and sarcophagus lids visible at surface level. On
a larger scale such funeral markers included, most notably, churches.

Sixth-century church burials are known, from written and archaeological evidence, for
members of the most powerful strata of society. The burials of a young boy and an older woman

9
found under Cologne cathedral and Arnegundis' grave (see ch.3), are the most famous examples. Most
of these cases come from major churches in important royal urban centres (Paris, Cologne). In the
seventh century we find increasing evidence of such practices in the countryside. One well-attested
example is the little wooden church erected around 600 in the cemetery at Hordain (Nord).(28)

By about 700 furnished inhumation had largely disappeared from 'northern Gaul'. The
exceptions are largely concentrated on the northern, Rhineland fringes of the region, and in the
Netherlands. As in lowland Britain, funeral customs varied significantly, both with time and from one
area to another (even, in detail, from cemetery to cemetery).

iii. Southern Germany.(29)


The 'Reihengräberzivilisation' also covers southern Germany and Switzerland, the areas
controlled by the people known to history as Alamans, Bavarians and Thuringians. I have retained the
term 'Alamannia' as a short-hand for modern Alsace, Baden-Württemberg and Switzerland. As with
'Anglo-Saxon' England I use the term to designate an ethnic identity defined by politics and geography
rather than by biological descent (see ch.5, below).

Furnished inhumation, predominantly oriented west-east, in more or less neatly ordered


cemeteries again prevailed, with the dead arranged in the supine position in ST graves, stone cists or
wooden grave chambers. Particularly lavish examples of the latter are known. At the foot of the
wooden chamber containing the body in Oberflacht grave 31 was a separate chamber, housing certain
grave-goods such as horse-harness.

Similar general rules were followed as in lowland Britain and 'northern Gaul'. Females tended
to be buried with jewellery and dress adornments, and males with weapons (the norm is hereafter
referred to, admittedly rather simplistically, as 'the usual gender rule'*). As in 'northern Gaul' other
masculine items included flints, strike-a-lights, awls and so on. Artefacts associated with female work,
like spindlewhorls, bread-cutters and weaving swords, are found in women's graves more frequently
than in 'northern Gaul'. Again, many items were buried with both sexes. 'Alamannia' is notable,
however, for far more lavish grave-furnishings than in lowland Britain or 'northern Gaul'. Deposits of
jewellery and weapons can be very extravagant. Helmets (e.g. Baldenheim, Alsace) and body armour,
both mail (e.g. Gammertingen, Baden-Württemberg) and lamellar* (e.g. Niederstotzingen, Baden-
Württemberg) are found much more frequently than in 'northern Gaul' (where there are several
helmets but currently only one example of lamellar armour - Krefeld-Gellep grave 2589) or lowland
Britain (one possible case of mail armour - Sutton Hoo - and only three certain helmets). It is worth
emphasizing that burial customs in the region differed in detail both from 'northern Gaul' and lowland
Britain, and, within southern Germany, from one site to another. One of the best known cemeteries
of this region is Schretzheim (Baden-Württemberg).

Cremation, the dominant rite during the Roman period, persisted into the early middle ages
only as a minority funeral custom. The ashes were buried in urns, without a container, or occasionally
in cloth bags. The few grave-goods were burnt with the body. Another isolated rite, similar to the
double burials of the neighbouring, eastern area of 'northern Gaul' is the treble burial found at
Niederstotzingen. The subjects, again, were all males with linked arms. Something else which is much
more frequent than elsewhere in the 'Reihengräberzivilisation' is the interment of animals. A horse and
a deer were buried in the famous cemetery of Basel Bernerring (Switzerland). On some southern
German sites (e.g. Giengen an der Brenz, Baden-Württemberg and Beckum, Nordrhein-Westfalen),
two horses were buried facing each other in a pit, with their legs intertwined in a macabre imitation of
contemporary animal art.

10
Barrows are well known (e.g. Basel Bernerring, and Fridingen-an-der-Donau, Baden-
Württemberg), but usually small and revealed by ring-ditches (as at Holzgerlingen). They tend to be
concentrated in 'Alamannia' in the angle formed by the upper Rhine and Danube. They are, with a few
exceptions, of seventh-century date, as in lowland Britain.

A number of unusually lavish graves date to c.575-c.625, and are thus rather later than most
such burials in 'northern Gaul'. Some appear to 'found' new cemeteries; others (e.g. Schretzheim grave
580) are found on established sites, but perhaps mark a change within the cemetery-using community.
The seventh century also saw changes in the grave-goods' form and design, as in 'northern Gaul'. This
century was most important, however, for the creation of small 'separate cemeteries' (separatfriedhof;
e.g. Niederstotzingen) characterized by very well-furnished burials, large graves, horse burials and
barrows (an analogous phenomenon to the Sutton Hoo cemetery). Some 'separate cemeteries' are
found close to the edges of large, old-established community grave-yards (e.g. Kirchheim am Ries). A
parallel seventh-century development (mirrored in 'northern Gaul') is burial in newly founded churches
(e.g. Brenz, Bülach, and Spiez-Enigen). Analysis by Simon Burnell has revealed that funeral customs in
the 'separate cemeteries' and church burials differed from those in community cemeteries.(30) Again,
grave-goods began to be abandoned in the later seventh century, but persisted well into the first half of
the eighth century, as at Merdingen.

iv. North-Western Germany.(31)


In northern Germany, cremation remained the predominant rite for much of our period. In
the northernmost regions, the rite was very similar to that in lowland Britain. Two earlier rites,
whereby selected items from the cremation were buried in a pit, and in which this pit was then covered
by a mound, were going out of fashion by the migration period. Usually, the deceased was cremated,
clothed, in a pyre and the ashes buried in a hand-made decorated pot. Grave-goods consisted of dress
adornments (brooches, dress-pins &c. for women, elaborate belt-sets imported from the Roman
Empire for men), as well as jewellery (in female graves), shears and so on. Not surprisingly, many
dress-fastenings and jewellery items are found in burnt and broken condition. Weapons were rarely
buried. Cemeteries were frequently very large and sited near prehistoric barrows (e.g. the Galgenberg,
near Cuxhaven, Niedersachsen), and often show traces of more or less continuous use from the early
Iron Age. Many cemeteries were abandoned in the middle of the fifth century (e.g. Bordesholm,
Holstein, and Westerwanna, Niedersachsen). Those in the west of the area bounded by the lower Elbe
and lower Weser (the 'Elbe-Weser Triangle') were almost entirely abandoned whereas some of those to
the east (e.g. Issendorf, Niedersachsen) continued to be used into the sixth century.

At the end of the fourth century, inhumation, often oriented north-south, was introduced,
though usually without very lavish grave-goods. Most are similar to those found in the cremations.
From c.400, just before the cremation sites began to be abandoned, weapon burial increased.
Cemeteries with inhumations (e.g. Liebenau, Niedersachsen; Bremen-Mahndorf) often continued until
the eighth century (though not always; there is a break in use of the Galgenberg until c.600). During
the fifth century new artefact forms were introduced, particularly bow brooches, and the extensive
cultural changes also included, in places, a change to west-east orientation. In other areas the change
from south-north to west-east did not occur until the eighth century. Cremation did not die out,
however. 'Frisian cremations' around the North Sea coast are a recognized burial type.

The inhumation rite which predominated in the area from the later fifth century followed
similar lines to those of southern Germany. Horse burials are common (as at the Galgenberg).
Though grave-goods became fewer over time, lavishly furnished inhumation, especially male graves
with extensive weaponry, continued even into the second half of the eighth century. At Wijster, in the
north of the Netherlands, a decorated brooch was buried as late as the ninth century.

11
v. Scandinavia.(32)
Scandinavian burial in this period is characterized by great diversity. Before c.550, Swedish and
Danish graves are, with few exceptions, notable only for being nondescript. A mixture of inhumation
(as in Zealand) and cremation (e.g. Donbaek, Jutland) prevailed, both without many grave-goods.
Weapon burials are rare, recently estimated at only 1-2% of the total.(33) This was a time when large
quantities of gold were disposed of in hoards or in the famous bog-deposits, and it has been argued
that this substituted for lavish grave-good display. On the other hand, studies of settlements in
Denmark have argued that this was a period of secure social organization. If so this adds weight to the
argument put forward in chapter 6 that grave-goods are symptomatic of social instability.

In Norway, however, we find a number of very lavishly furnished burials. Most cemeteries, as
elsewhere in Scandinavia, contained cremations and inhumations. The usually limited grave-goods
were burnt with the body, and these and the ashes then buried either on their own or in an urn (often
an imported bronze vessel). Some boat cremations (the earliest Scandinavian boat burials) are known.
In inhumations the body, clothed and wrapped in woollen cloths, was laid out with accompanying
grave-goods in a stone or wooden chamber. As ever, male grave-goods tended to include weapons,
females were buried with spinning and weaving implements, and vessels (including bronze and glass
wares) accompanied both sexes. The cist was then filled with branches and bracken, roofed, and
covered with earth to form a large barrow. The largest of these barrows, at Raknehaugen, dates to the
mid-sixth century but when it was excavated no body was found; perhaps the mound served as a kind
of cenotaph. Some burials of this type are found in the west coast (e.g. in Bohuslän) and northern
regions of Sweden.

As in so many areas, changes occurred in the seventh century. Norwegian burials became
much simpler. Only wooden chambers were now used, barrows were fewer and smaller, and grave-
goods less numerous, especially weapons. This is similar to the process observed in 'northern Gaul', as
Shetelig and Falk observed long ago.(34)

The period 600-800 is dominated by the lavish boat burials of Uppland, Sweden, especially
those from Valsgärde and Vendel, described in more detail in chapter 3. These are now believed to
have begun in the later sixth century.(35) The Vendel-Valsgärde boat burials were those of men but
the opposite phenomenon was recorded at Tuna in Badelunda (Västermanland, Sweden; there are two
Swedish sites called Tuna) where a series of lavish female boat burials was uncovered. Near Valsgärde,
at Fuller”, the burials in the boats were cremations. There was, then, a degree of diversity in the
custom of 'boat burial' in Scandinavia. Another series of large barrows is found along a ridge at Gamla
Uppsala. These have long been associated with the Swedish royal house and some barrows assigned to
particular kings. These were semi-legendary figures, however, and it is dangerous to take these
identifications too seriously, though the Uppsala barrows are clearly a demonstration of considerable
local power (and, it is to be hoped, are shortly to be the object of an integrated archaeological research
programme analogous to that at Sutton Hoo in England).

The burials of the less prominent members of pre-Viking society in this area of Sweden are
correspondingly less extravagant. The Valsgärde boat burials were surrounded by cremations of
women, with few grave-goods, beyond the burnt remains of dress ornaments. There were also some
robbed cist burials. At Tuna in Badelunda, significantly, where the boat burials were those of women
the cremations surrounding them were apparently male. Recently it has been noted that some
cremations contain the remnants of decorated metalwork which may well have been the equal of that
interred in the barrow graves. Inhumation in coffins is also recorded in late Iron Age, 'Vendel period'
Sweden. Most Swedish cemeteries of this period are quite small, and are located on the best arable
and pastural land. The boat burials are, it is worth noting, located on the edge of the settled area of the
Mälar valey.(36)

12
On the island of Gotland, where there are no boat burials, graves are well provided with grave-
goods from the mid-sixth century onwards. 75% of male burials included weaponry here, which
marked a significant change from the burial custom of the pre-Vendel era.(37)

Finally, we must note that stone funerary monuments are common throughout this period in
Scandinavia. From about 400 AD these began to be bigger, and decorated with human and animal
scenes, often accompanied by inscriptions in the Runic alphabet (e.g. Tune in Ostfold, Norway, and
Haggeby in Uppland, Sweden). These are the precursors of the famous stone monuments of the
Viking period.

vi. The 'Celtic Fringe'.(38)


In the 'Celtic' areas (Ireland, modern Scotland, western Britain and Brittany) unfurnished
inhumation was general. Throughout these areas, west-east orientation predominated, but with
occasional exceptions. In Ireland, there are two main types of cemetery, referred to as 'undeveloped'
(Knockea, Co. Limerick; Relignamen, Co. Tyrone) and 'developed' (Church Island, Co. Kerry; Derry,
Co. Down). The major distinction is that 'developed' cemeteries contain religious structures: churches,
chapels, cells. Both types are usually small, and often enclosed by rectangular or eliptical pennanular
ditches. At Knockea(39) the ditch was accompanied by a bank and palisade. The body was usually
supine, though there are a few crouched burials, and there is the usual variation in the arrangement of
the limbs. ST graves are common, but so are stone cists. Graves at Knockea had a stone lining only
around the head.

Bodies were wrapped in shrouds, so pins are often the only artefacts found. However, more
and more graves are being unearthed in which more, though still very limited, grave-goods were
deposited, including knives and buckles. In part of eastern Ireland a significant minority (and one
which will doubtless become more numerous with more extensive modern excavation) chose to
differentiate themselves from the remainder of the population by adopting a slightly different burial
rite.

Funerary monuments were common in Ireland. Before the seventh century these were often
upright stones bearing inscriptions in the Irish Ogham alphabet (similar stones are found in Wales and
western Scotland). Later, slabs with Latin inscriptions and Christian decoration were introduced, some
of which were 'recumbant' (lying flat over the grave; e.g. Glendalough, Co. Wicklow). These grave-
markers are frequently found on monastic sites and the best collection comes from the famous
monastery of Clonmacnoise (Offaly).

The classic western British site is Cannington (Somerset). Here Philip Rahtz directed the
excavation of several hundred graves ranging from the second to eighth centuries. The dead of our
period were inhumed in graves of widely varying sizes, above which may have been stone or wooden
markers. A few crouched burials were found. Grave-goods were not numerous but two burials of
infants included limited jewellery, including an eighth-century brooch. The cemetery showed traces of
careful organization, which had broken down in places. At the cemetery's focus was a wooden
structure of uncertain function, in which was a burial (though not necessarily of the same date as the
structure), and a female adolescent's grave, marked by a slab. These burials are typical of a group of
'special graves' found on western British sites. It has been proposed that in some areas, early post-
Roman cemeteries without grave-goods may have been mistaken for later Anglo-Saxon grave-yards
(which similarly lacked grave-goods).(40)

In Wales, there was a particular predilection for siting cemeteries by or in 'ancient monuments',
such as Bronze Age barrows (Plas Gogerddan, Dyfed), small prehistoric defensive enclosures (Caer,

13
Bayvill, Dyfed) or, in the Romanized south-east, villas (e.g. Llandough, Glamorgan). The burials tend
to be simple inhumations in ST graves or cists without grave-goods, so that dating is possible, in
almost every case, only with the aid of Carbon14 (see ch.4), and is thus somewhat vague.

Enclosed cemeteries are known (St. Helen's Isle and Tean, Isles of Scilly), and, as in Ireland,
churches were sometimes built in these. A site with all the elements mentioned above, is Capel Maelog
(Radnor). Here a prehistoric enclosure was used for the site of a post-Roman cemetery, which later
received its own, new enclosure and, at some point between the eleventh and the thirteenth centuries, a
church was built on the site, its chancel covering an earlier 'special grave'. There are occasional
gravestones which, in Wales, are particularly common in the sixth century. It has been suggested that
some of these were erected on earlier monuments, like barrows. Some crosses carved on stone grave
slabs may immitate wooden crosses erected over burials.

Burials so far discovered in Scotland have, again, been uncertainly dated unfurnished
inhumations in stone cists, sometimes with barrows or stone cairns, round or square. Cemeteries can
take the now familiar form of the enclosed site containing a church and perhaps other structures
(Ardwall Isle, Kircudbrightshire).(41) Early medieval Scottish archaeology is, however, dominated by
the famous Pictish symbol stones, carved on all sides with geometric, animal and human designs. The
role these played is unclear but they may have had a funerary function, as memorials or cenotaphs if
not strictly as grave-markers.(42)

In Brittany, graves tend to be grouped around religious sites (many of which could, however,
post-date the cemeteries). Inhumation in sarcophagi, rectangular or trapezoidal, is the norm, as in
southern Gaul. Stone-lined cist graves are also known from the seventh century. One, at St. Urnel en
Plomeur, was bounded by whale bones. Some graves are sunk into the local rock (Le Tiercent,
Chemere), or even hewn out of old Roman milestones (Elven), as is known elsewhere in southern
France. Grave-goods are sparse in the extreme and, as in many areas of southern France, tend to be
female dress-adornments, but enough are known to enable us to date cemeteries to the Merovingian
period. cemeteries are most frequently organized into what seem to be family groups. Two recently
studied Breton sites are Bais and Visseiche.

vii. Southern France.(43)


'There is no such thing as a typical cemetery of the south-west' (E. James). Burial in the south
of the Merovingian kingdoms was diverse and generally different from that in 'northern Gaul', though
this difference may have been overstated. Funerary customs here represent more straightforward
continuations of late Roman practice, with inhumation, accompanied by few or no grave-goods. The
burial of grave-goods has perhaps been underestimated. Unlike the cemeteries in the north, southern
French grave-yards frequently remained in use throughout the medieval period and beyond. This is
largely because they were usually sited around churches in or close to settlements. Burials often reused
the stone coffins of earlier inhumations, with the result that post-Roman burials are rarely found intact,
and any grave-goods have been dispersed. Those which are known were usually found in the areas
around graves.

The common elements of burial in this area were inhumation in the supine position (as usual
with variations in the arrangement of the limbs), with the head to the west, and very frequently in a
stone sarcophagus. Sarcophagus burials predominated in south-western France, though cist burials
and ST graves were also common. In the very southernmost part of the region the late Roman
tradition of highly decorated sarcophagi, carved on all sides and thus left above-ground within a church
or mausoleum, continued briefly but appears to have died out well before 600. Perhaps the most
famous sarcophagi are those which appeared in the later sixth century in Poitou. Here the trapezoidal
sarcophagus, was buried with the lid visible at surface level and thus often decorated. Typically this

14
decoration comprised the 'three-armed cross'. The long arm of the cross was traced lengthwise down
the middle of the lid, and usually three (but occasionally two and very rarely four) lateral arms added.
This cross could be in-filled with elaborate decorative motifs.

South-western cemeteries are often (though far from always) very large and grouped around
religious buildings. Perhaps the classic site of this type is Civaux near Poitiers, though, since most of it
was quarried rather than excavated in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, little information has
been retrieved. Cemetery organization could involve graves lined head-to-foot (using the sarcophagus
lid as a guide), as on the more recently excavated cemetery site at Niort, as well as laid side-by-side.
Frequently there is no clear organization.

The burial of grave-goods varies greatly. It seems that the dead were buried dressed, as in the
north - the most common grave-goods being large 'Aquitanian' plaque-buckles. Pottery was also
interred. Jewellery and weapons are rare but are known (James(44) lists thirty-seven south-western
sites with weapon-burials). In the north, in the Touraine, the seventh/eighth-century site of Sublaines
(Indre-et-Loire) furnishes a valuable case study. A handful of necklace-beads, finger-rings and a
brooch, alongside some pottery fragments were the only grave-goods. The burials were mostly
oriented with the head to the west but a sizeable minority were laid out with heads to the north.
Unusually for the area, where, as ever, sarcophagus burial is common, burials were in ST graves often
with a more or less rudimentary stone lining.

In Charente, burial with grave-goods (pottery, buckles, glassware) has been found to be more
common than in Poitou, though certain items of jewellery (necklaces, earrings and brooches) are found
in the latter area, as at Cubord-le-Claireau (Vienne). At the well-known site of Neuvicq-Montguyon
(Charente-Maritime), frequently reused sarcophagi provided the typical grave-type. Lids were visible at
surface level and were decorated with an unusual number of inscriptions. Grave-goods were sparse
(possibly because of the extent of reuse), though there was one burial with a scramasax*, a silver-
covered belt, an iron buckle and a gold filigree brooch. Pot-sherds were found in and around the
graves, as were two hearths, suggesting funeral feasting and the deposition of pottery in the burials.

An unusual group of cemeteries is found in Charente, wherein the dead were buried with lavish
grave-goods including weapons and jewellery, as in 'northern Gaul'. The best-known sites of this
group are Herpes (Charente), from which the British Museum has many of the grave-goods, and Biron
(Charente-Maritime).

Barrow burial is known in the Auvergne. Secondary barrow burials were usual but it has been
suggested that post-Roman primary barrow burials may be more common than we think.

North of the Alps, in the area of the upper Rhone valley, the most famous site is that of
Sézegnin (canton of Geneva). Here late fourth-century graves were oriented north-south, and
accompanied by pottery. The deposition of pottery died out, and the orientation changed to the usual
west-east in the Merovingian period. There were few grave-goods, largely consisting of buckles. ST
graves gave way to various kinds of stone cist in the later sixth and seventh centuries, but grave-goods
remained rare. The cemetery's focus was a small wooden building, possibly a funerary church or
mausoleum.

In the south-east, graves are often placed in stone cists made of upright flagstones, though
chambers made of tiles are also common, especially in Provence, continuing a local Roman tradition.
The burial of pottery seems to have died out early in some cases, but, again, there are indications that
the deceased were buried dressed, as at La Font-du-Buis near Saze (Gard). The cemetery at Chabannes
(Lozère) again revealed inhumation in flagstone or tile cists. It yielded only a handful of dress

15
adornments, but fragments of broken vases were found around the burials. It was suggested that these
may have been placed on the surface of the grave. They could also indicate funerary feasting. In
Provence a large number of decorated Merovingian funerary inscriptions are also known, though now
rarely able to be associated with particular burials. They are of fifth- and sixth-century date. An
interesting burial has been located under the Abbaye St.-Victor, Marseille. An elaborate fifth-century
sarcophagus contained an adolescent woman buried dressed, with several bunches of herbs and a
garland about her head. From this head-band was suspended a small cross. Clearly great care had
been lavished upon the presentation of the corpse within the sarcophagus; it is salutary to note how
mundane it would have looked had conditions not favoured the survival of fabric and organic remains.

Moving south-west around the Mediterranean coast we come to the region of Narbonne,
Septimania, part of Visigothic Spain. Here the classic site is Estagel. Flagstone cists were the rule,
apparently often with a brick or stone as an above-ground marker. Grave-goods were more common
than in most other areas of southern France. The 'usual gender rule' applied, but there were no
ceramics, or indeed any vessels apart from one glass beaker.

Before leaving southern France, mention must be made of the Hypogeum of Les Dunes,
Poitiers. This was a semi-subterranean seventh-century crypt, built originally to house the body of one
abbot Mellobaudes but attracting many later burials, presumably because of its sanctity. The building is
famous for its examples of Merovingian stone carving. Many more of these funerary monuments must
once have existed around the cities of southern France.

viii. Italy.(45)
Italian burial followed the late Roman tradition: inhumation with ever fewer grave-goods.
Burial archaeology in this area is usually an extension of church archaeology, as many of the most
famous sites are located around churches, often on the edges of towns. At the important site of San
Vincenzo al Volturno (Molise) a series of fourth- and fifth-century graves has been excavated. Grave-
goods were few, and the graves cut into the native rock in trapezoidal shape to accommodate the body,
occasionally laid out on tiles. Stone walls lined some graves, and the insides of many were plastered.

This is not untypical of late antique and early medieval burial across Italy and its associated
islands (as, for example, can be seen at the late antique cemetery of San Cromazio, Villa Speciosa,
Sardinia). Most burials were ST graves, but there were many stone-lined cists and sarcophagi. The
corpse was frequently buried in the supine position, in a shroud, revealed by bone or metal pins found
in graves. As in other regions, the positioning of the arms was the main variable. Orientation, as ever,
was usually west-east. There were occasional attempts to preserve the body in lime or chalk. Display,
however, usually took the form of founding churches in which to be buried, or in constructing
mausolea (the mausoleum of Theodoric the Great, d.526, in Ravenna, is the most famous example),
rather than in the grave itself.

Against this 'background noise' of indigenous burial tradition, various different rites may be set.
The latter are characterized by more lavish grave-goods. In the early sixth century these take the form
of various artefact-styles, including gold and garnet 'eagle brooches', associated with the Goths, and the
graves have been linked with the short-lived Ostrogothic kingdom of Italy. 'Gothic' burials usually
occur in small cemeteries or in groups within larger suburban cemeteries.

From the late sixth century, a new kind of furnished inhumation appears. This rite, adopted by
entire cemeteries, is that of the Reihengräberzivilisation. The dead were inhumed dressed and
accompanied by grave-goods, typically distributed according to the 'usual gender rule'. The weaponry
can be extensive. Shields are common, especially those with decorated bosses*, and helmets and

16
armour are also known. These and other features make these cemeteries similar to those of
'Alamannia', across the Alps in southern Germany. Famous sites of this kind include Castel Trosino,
Nocera Umbra, Stabio (in modern Switzerland) and Testona. These cemeteries are densest north of
the river Po, but there are increasingly isolated examples further south, as far as the area of Benevento.

The new style graves are not dissimilar to native burials in construction and layout, though
some early examples are characterized by north-south orientation (e.g. Stabio). From their distribution,
the date of the first examples and the style of certain artefacts, these cemeteries are usually called
'Lombard'. The ethnic implications of this receive further treatment in chapter 5.

ix. Spain.(56)
Spain shows some similarities to Italy. Over much of the Iberian peninsula inhumation in the
late Roman tradition continued. The body was laid out in a grave (ST, stone-lined cist or sarcophagus)
oriented west-east with few or no grave-goods. There were a few gravestones. As elsewhere, coffins
are suggested by the presence of nails. There was the usual array of deviations from the norm:
different orientations (north-south or south-north), various ways of arranging the limbs, double and
apparently treble burials, and so on. As in Italy many well known sites are located around suburban
churches, and church building and decoration was an important aspect of funerary display.

From the sixth century, furnished inhumation became more common in Spain, though it is
generally restricted to north-central Spain, and the lavishness of the grave-goods rarely matched that
found in the areas of the Reihengr„berzivilisation. The date of the appearance of the new rites and the
presence of diagnostic objects such as late types of eagle brooch have long led to the association of
furnished cemeteries with the Visigoths. The classic 'Visigothic' cemetery is probably the large, well-
furnished cemetery at El Carpio de Tajo. Cemeteries of this type show the same basic features as other
late antique and early medieval Spanish burials as far as the construction and orientation of the grave
and the arrangement of the body within it are concerned. The difference yet again concerns the fact
that the body was buried dressed. Other grave-goods were rare, so the best furnished graves were
frequently those of women, with their pairs of bow-brooches, cloisonne plaque-buckles, earrings and
bracelets. Weapons were infrequent. At Duraton (Segovia) only a handful of spears were found, and
mainly in areas outside the graves. This increased visibility of female graves can be observed in the
finds from Duraton and even in the poorly furnished seventh-century cemetery of Segobriga (Cuenca).

As in so many other regions, the furnishing of graves became simpler and rarer in the seventh
century. However, the distribution of furnished burial spread further over the peninsula. In this
period both local pottery and different styles of artefact, showing Byzantine and Coptic influence,
appeared.

Notes.

1 M. Welch, Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1992), ch.5, is now the most up-to-date description of
early Anglo-Saxon burial practices, but C. Hills' excellent discussion in 'The archaeology of Anglo-
Saxon England in the pagan period: A review', Anglo-Saxon England 8 (1979), pp.297-330, retains its
value. See also the essays in Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries 1979, ed. P.A. Rahtz, T.M. Dickinson & L. Watts,
BAR(B) 82 (Oxford ,1980), especially T.M. Dickinson, 'The present state of Anglo-Saxon cemetery
studies' (pp.11-33); and in Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries: A Reappraisal, ed. E. Southworth, (Stroud, 1990). The
Age of Sutton Hoo, ed. M. Carver (Woodbridge, 1992), contains a number of valuable essays both on
particular sites and on aspects of interpretation.

17
2 G. Clarke, Winchester Studies 3. Pre-Roman and Roman Winchester Part II, The Roman Cemetery at
Lankhills (Oxford, 1979).

3 i.e. without assuming that these burials are necessarily those of incoming Anglo-Saxons from
northern Germany and Scandinavia, as opposed to those of native Romano-Britons. The question of
ethnicity receives more detailed treatment in ch.5.

4 67% of cremations at Spong Hill (Norfolk) had grave-goods: J.McKinley, 'Spong Hill Anglo-
Saxon cremation cemetery' in Burial Archaeology. Current Research, Methods and Developments (op.cit.,
introduction, n.2), pp.241-8.

5 Spong Hill: C. Hills et al., The Anglo-Saxon Cremation Cemetery at Spong Hill, North
Elmham Parts 1-4, East Anglian Archaeology Reports 6 (Dereham, Norfolk, 1977), 11, (Dereham,
Norfolk, 1981), 21 (Dereham, Norfolk, 1984) & 34 (Dereham, Norfolk, 1987). J. McKinley, Spong Hill
8, The Cremations (East Anglian Archaeology 69, 1994). One might also profitably examine McKinley's
article (op.cit., previous note); C. Hills, 'Anglo-Saxon cremation cemeteries, with special reference to
Spong Hill, Norfolk' & M. Brisbane, 'Anglo-Saxon burials: pottery production and social status', both
in Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries 1979 (op.cit., n.1), pp.197-207 & 209-216 respectively; C. Hills, 'Spong Hill
Anglo-Saxon cemetery' in Burial Archaeology. Current Research, Methods and Developments (op.cit.,
introduction, n.2), pp.237-40.
Sancton: J.N.L. Myres & W.H. Southern, The Anglo-Saxon Cremation Cemetery at Sancton, East Yorkshire
(Hull, 1973).

6 H. Härke, '"Warrior graves?" The background of the Anglo-Saxon weapon burial rite.' Past and
Present 126 (February, 1990), pp.22-43, at p.25.

7 But since the whole of a cemetery is rarely excavated, notions of 'exclusiveness' ('exclusively
cremation'; 'exclusively inhumation') should be treated with care: an 'exclusively inhumation' cemetery
may have contained cremations just beyond the excavated area...

8 Hills et al., Spong Hill (op.cit., n.5), pt.2, pp.3-4; C. Scull, 'Before Sutton Hoo: Structures of
power and society in early East Anglia' in The Age of Sutton Hoo (op.cit., n.1), pp.3-23, at p.19.

9 A. Meaney, A Gazetteer of Early Anglo-Saxon Burial Sites (London, 1964), pp.16-17; Welch, Anglo-
Saxon England (op.cit., n.1), p.64.

10 For a recent report on Sutton Hoo, detailing these and the other features discussed below, see
M.O.H. Carver, 'The Anglo-Saxon cemetery at Sutton Hoo: An interim report' in The Age of Sutton Hoo
(op.cit., n.1), pp.343-71, with plates 23-32.

11 S. Hirst, An Anglo-Saxon Inhumation Cemetery at Sewerby, East Yorkshire York University


Archaeological publications 4 (York, 1985), contra G. Grainger, review in Journal of the British
Archaeological Association 139 (1986), pp.160-2, and, more coherently, A. Boddington, review in
Archaeological Journal 144 (1987), pp.474-6.

12 J.R. Mortimer, Forty Years of Researches in British and Anglo-Saxon Burial Mounds of East Yorkshire
(London, 1905). He refers to Uncleby (copying Canon Greenwell, the barrow's excavator) on p.118;
see Meaney, A Gazetteer of Early Anglo-Saxon Burial Sites (op.cit., n.9), pp.302-3.

18
13 Asthall: T.M. Dickinson & G. Speake, 'The seventh-century cremation burial in Asthall
barrow' in The Age of Sutton Hoo (op.cit., n.1), pp.95-130; Benty Grange: Victoria County History,
Derbyshire, vol.1, p.269; Taplow: Victoria County History, Berkshire, vol.1, pp.199-204.

14 Similar burials may have surrounded the lavish grave at Cuddesdon (Oxon): T.M. Dickinson,
Cuddesdon and Dorchester-on-Thames BAR(B)1 (Oxford, 1974).

15 W. Filmer-Sankey, 'Snape Anglo-Saxon cemetery: the current state of knowledge' in The Age of
Sutton Hoo (op.cit., n.1), pp.39-51.

16 Meaney, A Gazetteer of Early Anglo-Saxon Burial Sites (op.cit., n.9), p.171.

17 A.C. Hogarth, 'Structural features in Anglo-Saxon graves.' Archaeological Journal 130 (1973),
pp.104-119. Welch (op.cit., n.1), p.60 reproduces Hogarth's typology of grave structures.

18 A. Down & M. Welch, Chichester Excavations 7. Apple Down & the Mardens (Chichester, 1990).

19 A. Boddington, 'Models of burial, settlement and worship: the final phase reviewed.' in Anglo-
Saxon Cemeteries. A Reappraisal (op.cit., n.1), pp.177-99 is a useful discussion. See also H. Geake, 'Burial
practice in seventh- and eighth-century England' in The Age of Sutton Hoo (op.cit., n.1), pp.83-94.

20 A.L. Meaney & S. Chadwick-Hawkes, Two Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries at Winnall, Winchester, Hants.
Society for Medieval Archaeology Monograph 4 (London, 1970).

21 H. Härke, 'Early Saxon weapon burials: frequencies, distributions and weapon combinations.' in
Weapons and Warfare in Anglo-Saxon England, ed. S. Chadwick-Hawkes, Oxford University Committee
for Archaeology Monograph 21 (Oxford, 1989), pp.49-59.

22 Boddington, 'Models of burial, settlement and worship: the final phase reviewed' (op.cit., n.19).

23 Anglo-Saxon England is well served with individual cemetery reports, often of high quality
(especially those, like Spong Hill, published under the auspices of East Anglian Archaeology). In
addition to those cited above, we might also note, as another important recent example, V.I. Evison,
Dover: The Buckland Anglo-Saxon Cemetery, English Heritage Archaeological Report 3 (London, 1987).

24 The best English introductions are to be found in the works of Edward James: The Franks
(Oxford, 1988), pp.22-28, 44-51, 109-116, 137-48; 'Cemeteries and the problem of Frankish settlement
in Gaul' in Names, Words and Graves, ed. P.H. Sawyer (Leeds, 1979), pp.55-89; 'Merovingian cemetery
studies and some implications for Anglo-Saxon England' in Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries 1979 (op.cit. n.1),
pp.33-55. B.K. Young and P. Périn, 'Les nécropoles (III-VII siŠcles)' in Naissance des Arts Chrétiens.
Atlas des Monuments Paléochrétiens de la France, ed. N. Duval et al. (Paris, 1991), pp.94-121.

25 G. Halsall, 'The origins of the Reihengräberzivilisation: forty years on' in Fifth-Century Gaul: A
Crisis of Identity ed. J.F. Drinkwater and H. Elton (Cambridge, 1992), pp.196-207, discusses these new
burial forms. For illustration of this material see vol. 2 of H.-W. Böhme, Germanische Grabfunde des 4 bis
5 Jahrhunderts zwischen unterer Elbe und Loire (Munich, 1974).

26 It is this process which is clearly behind the odd position of iron nails in some stone-lined
graves at Audun-le-Tiche, rather than a strange funeral custom of throwing nails into burials from the
grave-side, as suggested by the excavator!

19
27 See James, The Franks (op.cit., n.24), p.146.

28 For an English introduction to German burials, see G.P. Fehring (trans. R. Samson), The
Archaeology of Medieval Germany. An Introduction (London, 1991), ch.3. 'Alamannia' is lavishly covered in
R. Christlein, Die Alamannen: Archäologie eines lebendigen Volkes (Stuttgart, 1978), and Bavaria in W.
Menghin, Frühgeschichte Bayerns. Römer und Germanen, Baiern und Schwaben, Franken und Slawen (Stuttgart,
1990). Baden-Württemberg is exceptionally well served by high quality publication of sites.

29 Sadly, Burnell's excellent work is only available in his unpublished Oxford D.Phil. thesis,
'Merovingian to early Carolingian churches and their founder-graves in southern Germany and
Switzerland: The impact of Christianity upon the Alamans and Bavarians' (1989).

30 Fehring, The Archaeology of Medieval Germany. An Introduction (op.cit. n.28), provides a useful
introduction to this area. Böhme, Germanische Grabfunde des 4 bis 5 Jahrhunderts zwischen unterer Elbe und
Loire (op.cit. n.25), catalogues and illustrates many fourth- and fifth-century graves.

31 Though now very old, H. Shetelig and H. Falk, Scandinavian Archaeology (trans. E.V. Gordon)
(Oxford, 1937), chs. 14 and 15, is still a good place to start. See also M. Sternberger, Sweden (London,
n.d.), pp.159-63, and A. Hagen, Norway (London, 1967), pp.134-50, with accompanying plates. For
Sweden, the essential reference work is Statens Historiska Museum, Studies 2: Vendel Period, ed. J.P. Lamm
& H.A. Nordstrom (Stockholm, 1983). A useful selection of Scandinavian material is illustrated in J.-
Y. Marin (ed.) Les Barbares et la Mer (Caen-Toulouse, 1992). For Denmark, L. Hedeager, Iron Age
Societies. From Tribe to State in northern Europe, 500BC - 700 AD (Oxford, 1992), contains much analysis of
Danish burials throughout our period, but sadly takes knowledge of descriptive detail for granted.

32 J. Hines, 'The military contexts of the adventus saxonum: some continental evidence' in
Weapons and Warfare in Anglo-Saxon England (op.cit., n.21), pp.25-48, at p.43. The figure, as Hines points
out, is interestingly similar to that in Anglo-Saxon cremation cemeteries.

33 Scandinavian Archaeology (op.cit. n.31), pp.261-2, referring to Jules Pilloy's 1879 study of the
Aisne region in France.

34 B. Arrhenius, 'The chronology of the Vendel graves' in Vendel Period Studies (op.cit., n.31),
pp.39-70. See below, ch.4.

35 B. Ambrosiani, 'Background to the boat graves of the M„laren valley' in Vendel Period Studies
(op.cit., n.31), pp.17-22.

36 A. Nørgård Jørgensen, 'Weapon sets in Gotlandic grave finds from 530-800 AD' in Chronological
Studies of Anglo-Saxon England, Lombard Italy and Vendel Period Sweden, ed. L. Jørgensen (Arkaeologiske
Skrifter 5) (Copenhagen 1992).

37 H.C. Mytum, The Origins of Early Christian Ireland (London, 1991), pp.94-101, is a good
introduction to Irish burials. For Pictland, see S. Foster 'The state of Pictland in the age of Sutton
Hoo' in The Age of Sutton Hoo (op.cit., n.1), pp.217-34, esp. pp.228-33. For the rest of Celtic Britain,
see H. James, 'Early medieval cemeteries in Wales', E. Alcock, 'Burials and cemeteries in Scotland', and
E. O'Brien, 'Pagan and Christian burial in Ireland in the first millennium: continuity and change', all in
The Early Church in Wales and the West, ed. N. Edwards and A. Lane (Oxford, Oxbow Monographs 16,
1992), pp.90-104, 125-29 & 130-37 respectively. C. Thomas, Celtic Britain (London, 1986) has scattered
but valuable comments. For Brittany there is a French introductory article: P. Guigon, J.-P. Bardel &.

20
M. Batt, 'Nécropoles et sarcophages du haut moyen age en Bretagne', Revue Archéologique de l'Ouest 4
(1987), pp.133-48.

38 M.J. O'Kelly, 'Knockea, Co. Limerick' in North Munster Studies, ed. E. Rynne, (Limerick, 1967),
pp.72-101.

39 S. Esmonde Cleary, The Ending of Roman Britain (London, 1989), p.185.

40 C. Thomas, 'An early Christian chapel and cemetery on Ardwall's Isle, Kircudbrightshire.'
Medieval Archaeology 11 (1967), pp.127-88.

41 J. Close-Brooks and R.B.K. Stevenson, Dark Age Sculpture (Edinburgh, 1982) is a useful
introduction. See also R. Samson, 'The reinterpretation of the Pictish symbols', Journal of the British
Archaeological Association 145 (1992), pp.29-65, for a very interesting and original interpretation of the
function of these stones.

42 E. James, The Merovingian Archaeology of South-West Gaul British Archaeological Reports,


Supplementary Series [B.A.R.(S)] 28 (Oxford, 1977), ch.5 is the best English introduction. It can be
updated with Young and Périn, op.cit. n.24.

43 James, op.cit. previous note, fig.40 and catalogue F.

44 There is no English introduction. M. Rotila, 'Necropoli di tradizione Germanica', and H.


Blake, 'Sepolture', both in Archeologia Medievale 10 (1983), pp.143-74 & 175-97 respectively, are valuable.
Useful illustrations of the material from 'Gothic' graves are to be found in P. De Palol and G. Ripoll
Lopez Les Goths. Ostrogoths et Wisigoths en Occident, Ve-VIIIe Siècles (Paris, 1990), while 'Lombard' material
can be found in W. Menghin, Die Langobarden. Archäologie und Geschichte (Stuttgart, 1985).

45 Again there is no English summary. A useful place to start is G. Ripoll-Lopez, 'Materiales


funerarios de la Hispania Visigoda: problemas de chronologia y tipologia' in Gallo-Romains, Wisigoths et
Francs en Aquitaine, Septimania et Espagne. Actes des VIIe Journées Internationales d'Archéologie Mérovingienne,
Toulouse, 1985. ed. P. Périn (Rouen, 1991). This volume contains a number of other valuable papers on
Visigothic archaeology. See also De Palol & Ripoll Lopez, op.cit. previous note.

21
3. Graves of the Rich and Famous.

i. The Grave of Childeric I(1)


The study of early medieval cemeteries is usually held to have begun colourfully in 1653, when
the attention of workers near St. Brice's church, Tournai, was attracted to a deaf-mute colleague doing
a strange dance. On closer inspection they found that he had made one of the most spectacular
discoveries of early medieval archaeology - a late fifth-century royal burial containing breath-taking
quantities of gold artefacts.

What differentiated this grave was the fact that a name could be put to its subject. In the grave
was a golden seal-ring. The inscription on the ring read CHILDERICI REGIS (Belonging to King
Childeric). The presence of a coin of Zeno (Eastern Roman Emperor 474-491) led Chifflet, who
published an account of the grave in 1655, to attribute the grave to Childeric I (died c.481; the date is
less precise than is often assumed(2)), the father of the famous Frankish king Clovis I.

The grave contained items of Childeric's clothing: a second finger-ring, a gold bracelet, a gold
cloisonn‚ belt buckle, two shoe buckles, a gold crossbow brooch, and a gold cloisonné purse-fastener.
Weaponry included a spear, a francisca*, a long sword and a scramasax both with gold cloisonné hilts
and scabbard-fittings. Also found were a crystal ball, a large number of gold cloisonné horse harness
decorations (three pits, between them containing over seventeen stallions, were recently found around
the site of Childeric's grave) and many coins. Unfortunately it has never been certain that all the
objects recovered, particularly the coins, were originally from a single grave or, conversely, that all
Childeric's grave-goods were found. Even more unfortunately, most of the artefacts were stolen and
melted down in 1831.(3) Nevertheless, the surviving objects and Chifflet's illustrations allow us to
draw some conclusions. While the objects' style and manufacture link Childeric into an aristocratic
culture which drew heavily on Danubian and Asiatic influences brought by the Huns and Goths, the
crossbow brooch was a symbol of office within the Roman Empire. Childeric, as written sources also
suggest, had a foot in both the Roman and the barbarian camps. The artefacts leave us with no doubt
that this was the grave of a powerful and wealthy fifth-century king.

ii. Sutton Hoo Mound 1(4)


The most famous Anglo-Saxon grave is undoubtedly that discovered in 1938-9 at Sutton Hoo.
The grave was located under a large barrow (subsequently designated Mound 1), covering a long
rowing boat, revealed by the presence of its carefully excavated rivets. Lavish grave-goods were found
in a chamber in the ship. Clothing and dress-adornments included the famous 'reliquary' plaque-buckle
with its opening back, gold and garnet shoulder clasps, a decorated purse, a helmet and remains of a
mail shirt. Extensive weaponry was found: a sword, a long iron-handled battle-axe, several spears, a
decorated shield and a scramasax. Vessels constitute another important element: a great silver dish, a
number of buckets and cauldrons, one of which had an elaborate chain to suspend it from a ceiling, a
smaller silver dish, a bronze bowl, a bronze hanging bowl, drinking horns and wooden and pottery
bottles. The purse contained thirty-seven Merovingian gold coins, plus blanks making the total up to
forty. Also found were objects of entertainment, a lyre and traces of a set of ivory gaming pieces. In
addition, there were two very curious objects: an iron 'standard' and an ornamental whetstone, as well
as two Byzantine silver spoons, one marked SAUL, the other PAUL, probably symbolic of someone's
conversion to Christianity (though not necessarily that of the grave's occupant!). No skeleton was
found but careful recent excavation has shown that bodies survive at Sutton Hoo only as changes in
the colour of the sand. It now seems most likely that the excavators simply missed these traces. Study
of the coins dates the burial to sometime in the 620s. The grave-goods demonstrate contacts not only
with Merovingian Gaul but also with the Mediterranean world.

22
The symbolism of the Sutton Hoo grave-goods is striking. The vessels suggest that the
deceased played an important role in the distribution of food and drink. When combined with the
gaming pieces and the lyre, the image of the royal long-house in Beowulf springs immediately to mind.
The rich dress adornments mark the subject out from his contemporaries. More so do the mail-shirt
and helmet, almost unique in lowland British cemeteries (above, chapter 2). These add to the lavish
weaponry to make a striking display of access to military resources. That the subject of the burial, or
at least his heirs, also had control over other resources is shown by the burial of one of the largest pre-
Viking ships known, and also by the manpower required to haul the ship to its final resting place and
cover it with a huge mound of earth. The 'standard' and whetstone have been the subject of almost
endless debate. The former remains enigmatic but the latter, with its eclectic symbolism, seems to be
some form of 'sceptre'.(5)

Attempts have been made to downgrade the occupant of Sutton Hoo Mound 1, but none
carries conviction. Especially when compared with contemporary seventh-century graves, the wealth
deposited in the grave, the symbolism of the grave-goods and the control of resources demonstrated
by the burial make the royal status of the deceased almost certain. Raedwald of East Anglia (d. c.625)
continues to be the most plausible identification of the grave's occupant.(6)

iii. 'The Grave of Arnegundis'.(7)


Another allegedly royal grave was found under St.-Denis in Paris. The subject was identified
as a certain Arnegundis from her ring (though not a seal ring). The grave-goods comprised above all
items of elaborate costume. Two gold and garnet disc brooches were found, as well as a long gold and
garnet dress pin, two delicately worked golden earrings, two gold hairpins, a large gold filigree plaque-
buckle and counter-plaque, and golden buckles and strap-ends from shoes and cross-garters. So well
were the organic remains preserved that we know that Arnegundis' costume comprised a white head-
cloth, a purple dress, white stockings and a long red outer garment resembling a long coat, with cuffs
decorated in gold thread embroidery and pinned to the purple dress by the dress-pin. The subject was
said by physical anthropologists to have been aged about forty.

Immediately, the deceased was identified with Aregundis, a wife of the Frankish king Chlothar
I (511-61). A monogram in the centre of her ring was interpreted as reading REGINA, 'proving' that
she was indeed a queen. If she died at about forty, Aregundis' grave should be dated to the late 560s.
Unfortunately, the grave-goods were, according to artefactual dating (see ch.4), of c.600. This caused
some archaeologists to attempt to reassess the date of these artefact forms. More cautious
archaeologists were unconvinced. Sir David Wilson was the first to argue against the tide. The ring's
monogram spells ARNEGUNDIS (which is, of course, not the same name as Aregundis), just as all
other known monograms spell the owner's name rather than title. The artefactual dating also seemed
too secure to be so easily pushed back by a generation and the burial's style (dressed but without other
grave-goods) belongs more to the seventh century than the sixth.

Patrick Périn's recent attempt to square the circle, by assuming that the anthropology was
wrong and that 'Aregundis' died aged seventy or so in the 590s, is not entirely convincing. Physical
anthropological methods can and indeed often do underestimate the age of the deceased once the latter
has passed forty years of age, making that element of Périn's argument plausible. Against this, we
might suggest that it is unlikely that the aged wife of a long-dead king would be given such an elaborate
burial by rulers not only not descended from her but involved in deadly feud with her descendants.(8)
St-Denis is not known to have been a royal mausoleum before the seventh century and, if the royal
family was going to expend such resources on the burial of grave-goods, we might legitimately expect
them also to bury Aregundis with the rest of her relatives. Probably decisively, Arnegundis was buried
under the apparently post-629 extension of St-Denis, associated with Dagobert I (623-39), the first

23
king to be buried there.(9) Finally, recent research shows that such lavish dress adornments and
jewellery would be extremely unusual in the burial of a woman over forty years of age, especially in the
sixth century. Périn's idea seems to be motivated by a desire to link up archaeology and documentary
history at all costs. Sadly, it must be more likely that our Arnegundis, though obviously an important
person, is not queen Aregundis.

iv. Vendel-Valsgärde(10)
The most famous pre-Viking Scandinavian graves are doubtless the boat burials found at
Vendel and Valsgärde in Uppland, Sweden. Indeed Vendel gave its name to the archaeological period
immediately preceding the Viking expansion.

Vendel was the first site to be unearthed. From 1881 a series of fourteen boat burials were
discovered near the local church. They ranged in date from sometime around the later sixth century
(see ch.4 for the alternative dating sequences for the burials) and the late tenth. The mounds were
oriented SW-NE, and most had already been robbed. One opened in the 1880s was badly damaged in
a 'frenzied search for treasure'. In these graves, the corpse was laid in the stern of a boat, alongside his
weaponry. Four graves included ornately decorated helmets. Other grave-goods (glass-ware, drinking
vessels, horse-furniture, and other 'domestic equipment') were placed in the bow. Various animals,
including dogs, horses, cattle and sheep were killed and buried with the boat.

The Valsgärde boat burials were found half a century later in 1928, and the cemetery was fully
and scientifically excavated by S. Lindqvist. The boats had been placed in shallow ditches and covered
with earth. At Valsgärde the boat-burials (again of males) spanned the period right up to about 1100,
in a striking display of continuity. Again, the body was placed in the stern with often highly decorated
weapons. Frequently there was more than one of each item, so the body could be entirely covered
with shields. As at Vendel, most other grave-goods were placed in the bow. Bridled horses, both
draught horses and mounts for riding, were buried alongside the boat.

The identification of the people buried in this type of boat-burial (we should remember that
Vendel and Valsgärde are the best-known, but far from the only such sites, see ch.2), has long been a
matter of debate. Originally, they were thought to be 'king's' graves; more recently, it has been
suggested that these people derived their power from the control of trade and exchange. The
peripheral location of such burials within the settlement pattern of 'Vendel period' Sweden is worth
remembering. Ambrosiani has called them a 'border phenomenon'.(11) This may therefore be an
analogous phenomenon (albeit on a more local scale) to the appearance of lavish burials on the
peripheries of the Merovingian kingdoms. In that sense, these graves may be a manifestation of a very
particular kind of local preeminence, and not the strict, passive reflection of secure, established social
rank which they are often assumed to have been. Nevertheless, these graves can be said to represent
the heads of local families with sufficient control of both wealth and labour to construct the graves and
display their prestige to a wide area.

Notes.

1 James, The Franks (op.cit., ch.1., n.24), pp.58-64, discusses the grave and its implications in
fuller detail.

2 Clovis' death can be dated to 511, and Gregory of Tours (Histories II.43) says that he had
reigned for thirty years. However, a thirty-year reign for a model king is a standard literary device.
Gregory also says that Clovis became king at fifteen and (therefore) died at forty-five. Fifteen,
however, is the standard age at which Merovingian kings came of age. We can suspect that Gregory's
knowledge of the chronology of Clovis' reign was much more stylized than the traditionally precise

24
date of 481 allows. C. Carozzi, 'Le Clovis de Grégoire de Tours', Le Moyen Age 98 (1992), pp.169-85,
also draws attention to this point, and M. Spencer, 'Dating the baptism of Clovis, 1886-1993', Early
Medieval Europe 3.2 (1994), pp.97-116, cannot rescue Gregory's account from this basic flaw. For
Gregory's Histories, see L. Thorpe (trans.), Gregory of Tours. History of the Franks (Harmondsworth, 1974).
The coin of Zeno at least allows us to place the burial after 474.

3. P. Périn, La Datation des Tombes Mérovingiennes. Historique. Méthodes. Applications (Paris-Geneva,


1982), pp.3-8 gives a fascinating account of the theft and its detection.

4. A.Care Evans, The Sutton Hoo Ship Burial (London, 1986, revised edition 1994) is the best
introduction to this famous grave. For the full, extremely detailed publication, see R. Bruce-Mitford
(ed.), The Sutton Hoo Ship Burial (London, 1975 [vol.1], 1978 [vol.2] & 1983 [vol.3]). Carver (op.cit.,
ch.1, n.10) summarizes the recent excavations.

5. M.J. Enright, 'The Sutton Hoo whetstone sceptre: A study in iconography and cultural milieu.'
Anglo-Saxon England 11 (1983), pp.119-34.

6. The dating of mound 1 has always relied heavily on the coins: D. Brown, 'The dating of the
Sutton Hoo coins' in Studies in Anglo-Saxon Archaeology and History 2, ed. S. Chadwick-Hawkes, D.
Brown & J.Campbell, BAR(B) 92 (Oxford, 1981), pp.71-86; A.M. Stahl & W.A. Oddy, 'The date of the
Sutton Hoo coins' in Sutton Hoo: Fifty Years After, ed. R. Farrell & C. Neuman de Vegvar (Oxford,
Ohio, 1992). I.N. Wood, 'Sutton Hoo and the Franks' in People and Places in Early Medieval Northern
Europe, 500-1000, ed. I.N. Wood & N. Lund (London, 1991), pp.1-14, attempts to identify the subject
of the burial with Sigberct of East Anglia (630/31, d. before c.645) largely on the grounds of the
internal political history of Merovingian Gaul. This is rendered unlikely by Stahl & Oddy's (op.cit.)
early (probably pre-613) date for the coins, which could therefore have been collected from their
diverse mints at some point during the sole rule of Chlothar II (613-23).

7. James, op.cit. n.1, pp.155-7, discusses this grave. Colour illustrations of some artefacts are to
be found in Young and Périn, (op.cit., ch.1, n.24), pp.110-111.

8. Paris in the 590s was ruled by descendants of Ingundis, Aregundis' sister and predecessor as
wife of Chlothar I. Aregundis was replaced by her sister in rather unceremonious fashion; Gregory of
Tours, Histories (op.cit., n.2), IV.3.

9. E. James, 'Royal burials among the Franks' in The Age of Sutton Hoo (op.cit. ch.1, n.1), pp.243-54,
at. p.252. Arnegundis may thus have been buried outside the church, unlikely for a member of the
royal family receiving sumptuous burial.

10. Sternberger (op.cit., ch.1, n.31), with accompanying plates, provides a useful introduction. See,
more recently, Arrhenius (op.cit., ch.1, n.34) and G. Arwidson, 'Valsgärde', in Vendel Period Studies
(op.cit., ch.1, n.31), pp.71-82.

11. Ambrosiani, op.cit., ch.1, n.35.

25
4. Dating Cemeteries.
Much mention has been made of the date of cemeteries or of burial customs. We have, for
instance, noted that certain funerary styles were introduced in about 600 AD, and that, for example,
seventh-century burials differ from sixth-century graves in lowland Britain and 'northern Gaul'. How
do we arrive at these dates?

Methods.

i. Scientific.
Dating methods can be placed under five headings: scientific, numismatic, artefactual, historical
and archaeological. The first, 'scientific', comprises those which depend upon laboratory analyses and
specialist reports. Carbon (C14) dating is one such method. All organic matter (including humans)
contains an isotope of carbon called C14, which decays at a known rate after the organism dies. The
date of the material can be calculated from the amount of C14 still remaining in it. This method,
however, can only date a subject very generally. A large number of samples are, furthermore, required
to eliminate the possibility of error. Nonetheless carbon dating is valuable where no other method can
be used.

A method which promises to be ever more useful is dendrochronology - tree-ring dating.


Every year a tree grows, its trunk and branches expand by a certain amount. This is revealed as a series
of concentric rings visible in the cross-section of a trunk or branch. These 'growth rings' are wider in
warmer years and narrower in colder. Datable sequences of such rings have been built up for various
parts of Europe, against which the rings in wooden material found on excavations can be compared. If
the wood comes from the core of the tree it can be difficult to judge how much of the tree's ring
sequence is missing and the date of the wood is correspondingly vague. If the sample includes bark or
other indications that it comes from the outside of the trunk, then dendrochronological dating can be
accurate even to within a year. Obviously this method is only possible where unusually good
conditions (e.g. waterlogged deposits) ensure the survival of wooden material, but tree-ring dates taken
from wooden grave chambers (e.g. Beerlegem in the Netherlands) or from the wooden furniture
occasionally placed in burials (e.g. the burials under Cologne cathedral) have helped not only to date
these graves but also to refine artefact chronologies (see below).

ii. Numismatic (coin dating).


Coins found in burials can also help the archaeologist to date a grave. If they come from the
Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire, where coinage continued to be struck in large, frequent issues,
bearing the emperor's name, the minting of the coin can be assigned to quite a short period of time.
The same can apply to imitations of such coins issued by western barbarian kings. We are then left
with the problem of not knowing how long a coin was in circulation before being buried. Coins could
circulate for a long time. Most coinage found in Merovingian graves is Roman, and indeed often early
Roman. This often led nineteenth-century archaeologists to assume that early medieval graves were
Roman. A buried coin thus only provides a terminus post quem (loosely a 'point after which...') for a
grave, but is nevertheless a valuable indicator, and the more coins there are in the grave, the more the
margin of error may be reduced. For example, if a coin sequence ends with a late coin of Emperor
Justinian the grave may be dated to some (unspecified) time after c.560. If a sequence ends with two
coins of Emperor Justin I and an early coin of his successor, Justinian, we might assume that the burial
dates to quite early in Justinian's reign, whereas two of Justin I and three or four of Justinian might lead
us to propose a later date. Unfortunately we rarely find more than one or two Byzantine coins in a
burial. Most western issues of coinage are much more difficult to date as they often have no king's or

26
emperor's bust or name on them. They can only be dated roughly, leading to greater vagueness in
dating burials from them.

iii. Artefactual.
Graves may be dated by other funerary artefacts placed in them though this, obviously, is only
possible in areas where grave-goods were common. Two approaches may be distinguished - typology
and seriation. Typology assumes that artefacts change in form and design over time. Brooches, for
example, can be divided into general types (disc brooches, saucer brooches, &c.). These are then
classified, according to design and decoration (often using recognized artistic 'styles'), into sub-types,
usually named after the site where the 'classic' example was found, or after the most distinguishing
feature, or simply given an identifying letter or number. Sometimes classification sub-divides the sub-
types themselves. The researcher posits a progression from one sub-type to another and sub-types are
then argued to be early or late within the series. This only gives a relative chronology: that is, 'b' is later
than 'a' but earlier than 'c' but we do not know exactly when 'a', 'b' or 'c' were made. A typology must
be 'pinned down', turned into an absolute chronology, by other methods of dating the archaeological
contexts (e.g. graves) in which the examples were found.

Typology is fraught with difficulties. How do we decide whether a type 'progresses' from crude
to elaborate forms, 'degenerates' from complex to simple, or moves backwards and forwards between
the two? How do we know how long sub-type 'a' took to develop into sub-type 'b'? Typology alone
answers neither question. When used, as it usually is, as a chronological rather than an analytical tool,
typology is flawed by the assumption that artefact variability is exclusively to be explained by difference
in date.

Some scholars have produced typologies of grave types and grave structures, but the same
problems attend any efforts to date burials from these.

A refinement of typology is 'seriation'. Here all kinds of artefact are classified into types and
sub-types (as above). Then we examine which sub-types were found with which in intact graves. The
graves must be intact because modern or later medieval disturbance, let alone secondary post-Roman
burials, makes it likely that objects from other periods might intrude into the grave (hence such objects
are described as 'intrusive'). All the graves of a sample are listed along the horizontal axis of a graph.
For each grave, the grave-goods are plotted against the sub-types listed along the vertical axis. The
diagram is then manipulated so that graves containing the same sub-types of artefacts are placed next
to each other on the horizontal axis, and sub-types occurring together are similarly positioned side-by-
side on the vertical axis. This is now often done by computer. Eventually a diagram like figure 1 is
produced, resembling a series of steps. Artefact-type 'a' is here found with sub-types 'b', 'c', 'd' and 'e',
but never with 'f' to 'j'. Sub-type 'h', on the other hand, is found with 'e', 'f', 'g', 'i' and 'j' but never with
'a' to 'd'. The graves are ordered into a series (hence seriation) so that the 'steps' climb progressively
from the bottom left to the top right of the diagram. Where there is a sudden steep 'step' in the
seriation, where a number of types cease to occur and several new types appear (as between graves 10
and 11 in fig.1), we may divide the seriation into groups of graves. Since we assume that the
occurrence of a given combination of artefacts is related to the date of the grave, we call these groups
'periods'; in fig.1 they are designated periods I and II. Sub-types 'a' to 'd', and thus graves 1-10, belong
to Period I, whereas sub-types 'g' to 'j' and graves 11-18 belong to Period II. Grave 18 contains none
of the sub-types found in graves 1 to 7, so we might assume that it belongs to a clearly distinct period
of time. On the other hand, graves 9 to 13 all contain either or both of sub-types 'e' and 'f', and only
two of the sub-types exclusive to their respective periods. Perhaps the difference in time between
graves 9-10 and 11-13 is not so great. Had we a grave only containing sub-types 'e' or 'f', we would not
be able to place it with certainty in either period.

27
But is Period I earlier or later than Period II? Seriation alone does not answer this question.
Nor does it allow us to estimate the duration of the period when (in our example) sub-types 'a' to 'd'
were common, before the introduction of 'g' to 'i'. We must pin down the seriation with
numismatically- or scientifically-dated graves. Let us suppose that a coin of Justin I (518-27) was found
in grave 1 and one of Justinian (527-65) belonging to the 540s in grave 10, whereas grave 12 contained
a late (560s) coin of Justinian and grave 18 included wooden material dated dendrochronologically to
c.590. We might assign our periods I and II to the earlier and later halves of the sixth century
respectively.

Seriation has its problems. The first is the association, mentioned in chapter 2, of particular
object types and different sexes. This means that unless male and female artefacts are studied apart,
seriation will separate out male graves from contemporaneous female ones, and make them look as
though they belong to different periods.(1) Another problem is that different types may appear at
different times in different regions. Thus seriations must be, and are, carried out for distinct
geographical zones (the Trier region; Champagne-Ardennes) or even single large cemeteries (Bulles;
Schretzheim). Even then, however, seriations must often make use of the same small sample of coin-
or dendrochronologically-dated burials, usually from beyond the region studied, to assign dates to the
periodization created. Nevertheless, large samples of intact graves from individual regions have, when
carefully analysed, provided useful chronological frameworks. It is worth stating here that when dating
a 'sealed context' like an intact grave, one must always use the latest datable element: a grave containing
artefacts 'a', 'b' and 'c', dated to c.500, c.550 and c.600 respectively, must be dated to c.600 - otherwise,
how could artefact 'c' have entered the grave? This may sound obvious but there have been cases of
intact graves dated by the average date of the goods in them!

Some problems remain, however. The most serious is a persistent attempt to refine
chronological periods into ever narrower units of time. This, as with typology, results from the
mistaken assumption that diversity in artefact design relates only to chronological difference. The
decoration of types common to men and women (e.g. pottery) can vary between the sexes too. The
shape, size, colour and decoration of artefacts can relate to social variables such as family, class or rank,
and so on, while still belonging to the same chronological period.(2) If we continue to assume that
artefacts differ only according to time, we may mask, and thus prevent the useful study of, an
important aspect of early medieval burial variability.

Nonetheless, artefact seriation, refined and pinned down by numismatic and scientific dating
methods, remains the best way of dating grave-goods, graves and structural types of grave.

iv. Historical.
Another means of dating artefacts and thus burials has been through reference to historically
attested events. This approach has not had particularly happy results. The assumption that furnished
burial in the Paris region must post-date 481, because these graves are Frankish and the Franks only
took control of the region under Clovis I, can be challenged on several grounds. The date of Clovis'
accession is rather more vague than has often been supposed (see ch.3, n.2); the graves may not be
particularly 'Frankish' at all (see below, ch.5); and the assumption that it was Clovis who first took
control of the Paris basin has been challenged on documentary grounds.(3) Similarly the assumption
that certain objects (and graves) in northern Italy are 'Lombard', has led to them being dated to the
period after 568 (the date of the Lombard invasion). The results have often been circular: the graves
are Lombard because they are later than 568; they are later than 568 because they are Lombard. The
assumption can be challenged. Again, the ethnic label attached to the grave style is open to doubt.
The artefacts have much in common with 'Alamannic' areas north of the Alps, and, even if they are
Lombard, the Lombards had been in Italy, as allies in the Eastern Roman army, before 568. The final
instance is 'the date' of the Adventus Saxonum (the 'coming of the Saxons' to Britain) which was long

28
used as a terminus ante quem ('point before which') in Anglo-Saxon chronologies. The date comes
from Bede's Ecclesiastical History and is itself problematic, even if one accepts that there was a single
date for such a long and complex process as that of the Anglo-Saxon settlement!(4) The use of such
historical dates as fixed points in archaeological chronologies is fraught with problems and should be
avoided.

v. Archaeological.
Two final means of dating graves depend upon the archaeological context. The first,
stratigraphical, usually furnishes only a relative chronology. If grave 'B' lies over, and 'cuts' (i.e. was dug
into) grave 'A', then 'B' is obviously later than 'A', though it is difficult to know how much later. Other
archaeological features can be used too. If the foundation trench of a church 'cuts' a grave, the grave
clearly predates that part (at least) of the church. If a grave is cut through a ruined wall of a building, it
is later than the building, and so on. These means of dating, as mentioned, are rarely precise, even
where one feature can be dated (as, for example, when the church's foundation trench can be related to
a building phase mentioned in documents, or numismatically or dendrochronologically dated), but they
do help us to look at the development, or 'phasing' of a site.

The final method is usually called 'horizontal stratigraphy', though the term 'topochronology'
coined by Patrick Périn is more accurate and thus more useful. Here one plots the distribution of
datable burials on a site and, using this, establishes the areas (phases) of the cemetery which
correspond to different chronological periods (as established by artefact seriation, for example). There
are obvious problems in defining the exact edges of such phases; later burials might intrude into earlier
phases and early graves, isolated at the time of burial, might be surrounded by much later ones.
Nevertheless, cemeteries, especially in the so-called Reihengräberzivilisation, do seem to have quite
clear phases, and, though it can never be 100% certain, topochronology does permit a way of
estimating the date of otherwise undatable burials (e.g. those without grave-goods).

The boundaries of phases cannot, as stated, be drawn with certainty. Unlike the building of a
villa or cathedral, which might fall into discrete phases, burial on a cemetery site is a continuous
process. Even so, the publication of 'phase plans' of cemeteries would aid analytical understanding,
and it is a pity that such plans have so rarely been attempted.

Results.
We have discussed the methods by which archaeologists date burials. We may now turn to the
results of such chronological studies, looking at these region by region. Again, in a work of this kind,
without extensive illustration, this discussion is aimed simply at familiarising the student with the basic,
general information.

i. The Merovingian World.


Merovingian archaeology has long been obsessed with chronology. Moving away quite early
from purely artistic and 'instinctive' dating (5) to more objective dating by 'seriation', soon carried out
with the aid of the computer,(6) Merovingian archaeology has, in this respect at least, led the field. The
first to use systematic seriation was K. Böhner, in his monumental study of the Trier region. His
chronology has provided the framework for the dating of Merovingian objects ever since. Since
Böhner's pioneering work, other refinements have been made, most notably by H.W. Böhme on
material of the period between 350 and 450, P. Périn and R. Legoux on the Merovingian cemeteries of
other regions of 'northern Gaul' (chiefly Picardy and the Ardennes), R. Pirling (on the huge cemetery
at Krefeld-Gellep), H. Ament (on German material), and F. Stein on the later phases of furnished

29
burial in Germany. Even with the problems noted above, all this work has led to generally accepted
periodization of Merovingian artefacts, which falls into five main phases (often referred to by the
German word of Stufe - phase), delineated by Böhner's work:
Stufe I (c.350-c.450): This has in turn been subdived into three by Böhme's work:
Ia (= Böhme's Stufe I): c.350-c.400.
Ib (= Böhme's Stufe II): c.380-c.420 (an overlap phase - this was something of an innovation in
chronological studies).
Ic (= Böhme's Stufe III): c.400-c.450.

Stufe II (c.450-c.525):
It has again been suggested that this phase be subdivided, with the division between period IIa
and IIb taking place some time around 480. This date is based upon the dating of Childeric's grave,
which, as we have seen, may not be as precise as is often thought. The Flonheim-Gültlingen group of
prestige graves are typical of Stufe IIb. Graves of Stufe IIa are as yet rare, but this may be because of
misdating of the beginning of IIb, as just mentioned.

Stufe III (c.525-c.600).


The main sixth-century phase. Attempts have been made to subdivide this period, but here we
encounter the dangers of excessive concentration on chronology, mentioned above. Though it may
well be possible to distinguish 'early' from 'late' within Stufe III, this will require much more subtle
work, taking into account other variables within the cemetery data (age, gender, location or grouping
within the cemetery, &c.) Legoux's detailed subdivision of the cemetery of Bulles into ten- to twenty-
year phases, for example, seems to me to be obscuring other dimensions of artefactual variability (see
above). The end of Stufe III has been a matter of some debate. Périn and other French archaeologists
currently favour a date of c.590, but this is largely motivated by a desire to include the early Stufe III
material of 'Arnegundis' grave' in the sixth century and thus identify her with Queen Aregundis. This,
as we have seen, is dubious, and a date of c.600 continues to be more satisfactory (though one must
remember the 'circa' prefixed to all of these turning point dates, and probably allow them something
like a decade's leeway).

Stufe IV (c.600-c.675).
This is the major seventh-century phase. In most of northern France and the Netherlands, this
is the last phase of grave-goods. Its end-point has gradually been pushed back into the late seventh
century from an original date of c.700. Again, some refinement into 'early' and 'late' within this phase
is possible (especially following the work of J. Werner), the turning point seeming to be somewhere
around 630/640.

Stufe V: c.675- :
Stufe V was barely represented in Böhner's Triererland burials, because furnished burial had
generally died out by then. As we have seen, however, furnished burial continued longer in the
northern regions, especially in north-western Germany. However, even here burial was not particularly
lavish. Refining the chronology of eighth-century burials relied heavily upon the decoration of sword-
pommels, and was carried out by Professor Frauke Stein. Stein gives us a further three subdivisions
(plus an overlap phase):
Va: c.680-710/20 (mainly attested in southern Germany)
Va/b: c.700-c.730 (found throughout Germany).
Vb: 710/20-c.750 (throughout Germany).
Vc: c.750-c.800 (only in northern Germany).
We should note how this chronology reflects the gradual, northward-moving abandonment of
furnished burial.

30
I have set out the 'Böhner-Périn' five-phase chronology here (we ignore Period VI, the post-
grave-goods phase), but we should also note that another terminology for the phasing of Merovingian
artefacts is also in common use. This is that of Hermann Ament, which runs as follows:
AM (Ältermerowingerzeit ['Older-Merovingian-period']) I: 450/80-520/30.
AM II: 520/30-560/70.
AM III: 560/70-600.
JM (Jüngermerowingerzeit ['Younger-Merovingian-period]) I: 600-630/40.
JM II: 630-40-670/80.
JM III: 670/80-720.
For our purposes it is important to note the broad agreement over chronological turning points
between the 'Böhner-Périn' and 'Ament' systems.

Ament used much material from southern Germany, and the 'Alamannic Region' has its own
artefactual chronology, largely derived from Ursula Koch's study of the large cemetery at Schretzheim.
Koch discerned six Stufen:
Stufe I: 525-545/50.
Stufe II: 545/50-565-70.
Stufe III: 565-590/600.
Stufe IV: 590/600-620/30.
Stufe V: 620/30-650/60.
Stufe VI: 650/60-680.

Note, again the turning points around 525 and 600, and that the chronology ends in about 680.

There are a few general, easy rules about dating Merovingian material. Weapons like the ango
(long, iron-hafted javelin, rather like a harpoon) and francisca (throwing axe), and jewellery like 'bird-
brooches' 'S-brooches' and most forms of bow-brooch, belong to the sixth century. In the sixth
century scramasaxes tend to be quite small and narrow; in the seventh century they become very broad
and heavy, before increasing in length too, ending up, effectively, as one-edged small swords. In the
late fifth century, gold-and-garnet jewellery and buckle-plates are known. Sixth-century buckles are
small and plain. At the end of the century the plaque buckle increases in frequency, usually bronze
with plain, round plaques, fixed with three nails. In the seventh century plaque buckles increase in size,
are usually of iron and of increasingly elongated shape, and frequently decorated in intricate patterns on
inlaid gold and silver wire. It is the dating of these buckle designs which has allowed the subdivision of
'Böhner-Périn' Stufe IV. At the same period, large, filigree disc brooches, with similar designs, become
common. Between the fifth and seventh centuries, shield bosses gradually become flatter and rounder,
and lose the flattened 'spike' which protruded from the top of the dome on early examples.

ii. The Anglo-Saxons.


Anglo-Saxon artefactual chronology is far more complex than that for the Merovingian world,
largely because it is still almost entirely carried out on an art-historical, typological basis for each
different type of artefact. Many of the resulting typologies are extremely difficult to use, or to relate
either to each other or to any absolute chronology. Much dating depends upon the artistic 'style' of the
decoration on an object. There are three main 'styles' which occur on Anglo-Saxon artefacts:

'Quoit-brooch style': This probably insular artistic style, recently described as typical for the
middle quarters of the fifth century,(7) owes much to late Roman metalwork styles. It derives its usual
name (it was once called 'Jutish Style A', but this name never caught on) from the fact that it features
heavily on a particular style of brooch. The artwork includes animals, real and mythical, frequently
depicted 'en couchant' with large haunches, often infilled with dots representing fur, as well as human
face masks. The decoration is deployed in concentric bands around panels of geometric ornament, as

31
is the case in late Roman metalwork (of Böhme's stufen I-III). The Quoit Brooch Style is particularly
common in Kent.

'Salin's Style I'(8): This is involves very stylized animals, and is named after the
Scandinavian scholar, B. Salin, who first identified the three styles of 'animal art' of which this is the
earliest. It seems to have originated out of Germanic art styles such as 'Nydam style' in about the last
quarter of the fifth century and lasted until the end of the sixth, during which century it is the
dominant decorative style in England. Style I animals have bodies which are clearly
compartmentalized, and can turn in any direction to fill up the available space. The animals' bodies are
increasingly depicted as closely inscribed parallel lines. Some animals are abbreviated; others have
limbs detached, again to fill in the space.

'Salin's Style II'(9): Another style of 'animal art'. Sutton Hoo Mound 1 contains the best-
known examples of 'typical' 'style II' artwork. Style II seems to have taken over from Style I at the end
of the sixth century, and most examples belong to the seventh. Style II animals have characteristically
more pointed beaks than Style I beasts. Their bodies are intertwined with one another (which includes
one animal's body passing through another, and even the limb of an animal passing through its own
body), but they can be disentangled. The bodies are less ribbon-like; their delineation can involve lines
of dots (as on the Sutton Hoo buckle).

It is interesting to note that the appearance of Style I (c.475) and the transition from Style I to
Style II (c.600), took place at the same time as developments in Merovingian artefactual styles (the
origin of Stufe IIb and the change from Stufe II to Stufe III, respectively). Again we see that
something important was happening around 600 AD.

The artefact chronologies of Anglo-Saxon England are too complex to do justice to here, but a
few points can be made. Obviously, artefacts imported from the continent, especially in Kent, can be
dated according to Merovingian chronologies (the rare angones and franciscas can be dated to the sixth
century, and so on). In the sixth century there is a broad array of bow-brooch styles: cruciform
brooches; square-headed brooches (and 'great square-headed' brooches); and 'small-long' brooches.
The cruciform brooches develop into huge 'florid' cruciform brooches in the late sixth century. In
addition to this there are other brooch styles (in descending order of size): disc brooches; saucer
brooches; and button brooches. In the seventh century a number of developments take place which
can be parallelled in the Merovingian world, such as the development of buckle plaques towards
elongated, especially triangular shapes (e.g. Finglesham, Kent, grave 95, and Crundale, Kent), and
clasps show developments in very similar directions (e.g. Taplow). Also in the seventh century, as on
the continent, large disc brooches with filigree, as well as garnet, decoration appear. Seventh-century
Anglo-Saxon disc brooches feature elaborate garnet patterns more commonly than those in the
Merovingian world.

Shields, which have been the object of a recent, detailed study,(10) can be shown to follow a
similar development to that in other areas of Europe, from concave-sided, more 'pointed forms, often
terminating in a 'golf tee'-like disc, to flatter, concave sided versions, before the introduction of the tall,
convex-sided 'sugar-loaf' boss in the seventh century. Spearheads appear, in very general terms, to get
longer over time.(11)

Recently, Danish scholars have applied seriation principals to Anglo-Saxon grave-good


assemblages with interesting results.(12) They arrive at a chronology with one period before 475 (for
the period when, as on the continent, grave-goods were comparatively rare), followed by five twenty-
five-year periods between 475 and 600, and a further period for the early seventh century. The
neatness of the division into twenty-five-year phases is in itself rather suspicious, and the work

32
immediately received a detailed barrage of criticism from John Hines.(13) Hines' is very much the
reaction of the traditional, art-historical approach to Anglo-Saxon chronology. A number of his points
are valid, and one can question the extent to which the lines of the chronology really differ from those
already set out in typologies. Nevertheless the application of independent, computer-assisted seriation
techniques to Anglo-Saxon grave-assemblages, and their comparison with similarly established
chronologies for the continent, could have very important results for Anglo-Saxon archaeology, as it
has, in similar circumstances, in Scandinavia.

iii. Scandinavia.
Scandinavian chronology, like Anglo-Saxon, was long dominated by the art-historical,
typological approach. Decorative styles feature heavily in Scandinavian chronology, especially Salin's
three animal art styles (Style 3 is an eighth-century Scandinavian style). In Norway, brooch typologies
have formed the basis of the chronological schemes, largely because, especially after the middle of the
sixth century, they are the most common field for the decorative art styles.

The Vendel period was usually held to begin around 600 and was given its own periodization
(the phases distinguished by letters). In the early 1980s, however, Birgit Arrhenius, who has also
worked on Merovingian jewellery, began to compare Vendel period artefacts with those in the well
established Merovingian chronologies, and proposed a revised dating, which moved the beginning of
the Vendel period back into the sixth century. This involved re-dating most of the Vendel and
Valsgärde burials and placing them earlier in time (the graves are arranged in chronological order
according to Arrhenius):

Grave: Traditional Date: Arrhenius' Date.


Vendel XIV 600 or 600-650* 520/30-560/70
Vendel X 575-60 520/30-560/70
Vendel XI 600-650 560/70-600
Vendel XII 650 or 600-650* 560/70-600
Valsgärde VIII 600-700 560/70-600
Vendel I 675-700 or 650-700* 600-630/40
Valsgärde VII 650 or 650-700* 600-630/40
Valsgärde V/VI 700 or 670/80-720* c.630/40
Vendel VII 750-800 670/80-720
Vendel III 800 720-750
* = Date proposed by G. Arwidson.

Other work has been done on the artefacts of the Vendel period in Sweden, especially for the
well-furnished cemeteries on Gotland, by Nerman (on female grave-goods) and by Nørgård-Jørgensen
(on male burials). This has resulted in five, not quite parallel, phases:
Phase: Nerman: Nørgård-Jørgensen:
1 c.550-600. 530/40-560/70.
2 c.600-c.650. 560/70-620/30.
3 c.650-700. 620/30-670/90.
4 c.700-750. 670/90-710/30.
5 c.750-800. 710/30-770/?800.

Note that Nørgård-Jørgensen's chronology, like Arrhenius', has been linked in with
Merovingian chronologies (Ament's scheme forms the basis, here). Nerman's fifty-year phases seem
more arbitrary and perhaps less satisfactory. Nørgård-Jørgensen's work shows scramasaxes (as in other
regions) getting longer, arrows developing from lozenge to leaf shapes, and sword pommels developing
from concave to convex sided, more solid versions. Their guards too change from being made of two

33
parallel bars to single, more solid examples. Swords in the latter part of period 3 have very broad
guards and pommels. As in Merovingian burials, spearheads are initially very diverse in form; they later
become more standard in general shape. Once again, shield bosses become flatter and more rounded
over time.

iv. Southern France.


The paucity of grave-goods from intact contexts in southern France makes chronology very
difficult to establish. The only artefact-type found with any regularity is the so-called 'Aquitanian
buckle' - a decorated plaque-buckle, with the usually roughly rectangular plaque typically attached by
three nails on each of the long sides.(14) The name is slightly misleading. At least one type (James'
Group IV) seems to me to originate north of the Loire, in Maine. The most recent studies of these
artefacts, by Sophie Lerenter, suggest a date-range from the end of the sixth to the beginning of the
eighth century. In this sense, they parallel the similarly shaped plaque buckles of the north.

v. Italy.
The 'Lombard' cemeteries of Italy have been able to be studied chronologically, by means of
their grave-goods. Jewellery has been studied, amongst others, by Roth and Theune, and ascribed to
five general phases. A seriation study by Lars Jørgensen has more recently proposed a six-phase
chronology.(15)

Phase: Traditional (e.g. Roth & Theune): Jørgensen:


0 550-570 Not used.
1 570-590 570-
2 590-610 -600
3 610-650 c.600-c.620
4 650-670 c.620-c.640
5 Not used. c.640-c.660
6 Not used. c.660-680/90.

Jørgensen's periods 1-2 are roughly contemporary with the traditional phases 1-2, but his
periods 3-6 subdivide the traditional periods 3-4. Note, again, that the period around 600 seems to
mark an important turning point. As in other parts of the post-Roman world, the seventh century sees
the gradual decrease in the numbers of types of brooch, and the use of the ubiquitous large filigree disc
brooches with isolated garnets. S-brooches and small, simple 'Almandin' disc-brooches are sixth-
century, as in the Merovingian realms, and the classic continental bow-brooch style, the 'radiate-
headed' brooch, increases in size and elaboration, before falling from use in the earlier seventh century.
As in the Merovingian world, round-plaqued plaque-buckles appear to belong to the period around
600; generally, in the seventh century, plaque buckles become larger and more elaborate, making
especial use of the long, roughly triangular plaque. The traditional chronology has the advantage of
allowing an initial, mid-sixth-century phase; Jørgensen is too rigid in insisting on beginning his
chronology with the Lombard invasion. In doing so he disallows any interpretation of these burials
other than the traditional ethnic one.

vi. Spain.
In Spain as in Italy, chronological study is easiest with the allegedly intrusive furnished burials
attributed to the Visigoths. The most recent and detailed chronology of the artefacts in these graves,
which of necessity dwells on the belt buckles and jewellery (weapons, we will remember, are rare in
Spanish graves), has been carried out by Gisella Ripoll-Lopez. She proposes a four-period Spanish
Visigothic chronology.

34
Period: Date:
2. 480/90-525.
3. 525-560/80.
4. 560/80-600/40.
5. 600/40-

The absent period 1 allows for a southern Gallic phase before the Gothic settlement of the
Iberian peninsula. The classic Gothic brooch-type, the Eagle-Brooch (also found in 'Ostrogothic'
graves in Italy) lasts until period 3, gradually getting smaller.(16) As with the Merovingian Bird-
Brooch, it does not survive into the seventh century. Spanish Gothic 'Radiate-Headed' brooches
similarly disappear after period 3 (as, roughly, do Frankish 'Radiate-Headed' Brooches). Until Period 3,
the classic Gothic buckle, with a square plaque, inset with stones (like the Eagle-Brooches) is common;
thereafter, plaque-buckles are more of an elongated D-shape, though the long sides on some become
concave.

Notes.

1 This happened in early analyses of the cemetery of Bulles, and led to some very odd
interpretations! See Périn (op. cit., ch.1, n.24), p.307 (at which point the author is actually R. Legoux).

2 J.D. Richards, The Significance of Form and Decoration of Anglo-Saxon Cremation Urns. B.A.R.(B) 166
(Oxford, 1987). It must be signalled that more detailed examination of the bone from Spong Hill has
cast some of Richards' precise conclusions into doubt. However, this does not, to me, seem to affect
the overall thrust of his argument, which was and is very important.

3 James, The Franks (op.cit., ch.1, n.24), pp.75-84.

4 Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People, I.15 & V.24; B. Colgrave & R.A.B. Mynors (ed. &
trans.), Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People (Oxford 1969).

5 See, for example, E. Salin, La Civilisation Mérovingienne (Paris, 1950 [vol.1], 1953 [vol.2], 1957
[vol.3] & 1959 [vol.4]). It is nevertheless interesting to see how many of Salin's overtly intuitive dates
were on the right lines!

6 See Périn, op.cit., ch.1, n.24, for an excellent discussion of the history, methods and results of
Merovingian chronology.

7 B. Ager, 'The alternative quoit brooch: an update' in Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries: A Reappraisal


(op.cit., ch.1, n.1), pp.153-61, at p.159.

8 G. Haseloff, 'Salin's Style I.' Medieval Archaeology 18 (1974), pp.1-15 & plates I-VIII.

9 G. Speake, Anglo-Saxon Animal Art and its Germanic Background (Oxford, 1980).

10 T.M. Dickinson & H. Härke, Early Anglo-Saxon Shields (Archaeologia 110, 1993). Dickinson and
Härke employed computerized techniques to cluster the shields into typological groups.

11 M. Swanton, The Spearheads of the Anglo-Saxon Settlements (London, 1973).

35
12 O. Stilborg, 'A chronological analysis of Anglo-Saxon men's graves in England', and M. Palm &
J. Pind, 'Anglian Women's graves in the fifth to seventh centuries AD', both in Chronological Studies
(op.cit., ch.1, n.36), pp.35-49 & 50-80 respectively.

13 J. Hines, 'The seriation and chronology of Anglian women's graves: a critical assessment' in
Chronological Studies (op.cit., ch.2, n.36), pp.81-93.

14 James, The Merovingian Archaeology of South-West Gaul (op.cit., ch.1, n.42), ch.4.

15 L. Jørgensen, 'AD 568: A chronological analysis of Lombard graves in Italy' in Chronological


Studies (op.cit., ch.1, n.36), pp.94-122; L. Jørgensen, 'Castel Trosino and Nocera Umbra. A
chronological and social analysis of family burial practice in Lombard Italy (6th-7th centuries).' Acta
Archaeologica 62 (1991), pp.1-58.

16 See also K. Green, 'Gothic material culture' in Archaeology as Long-Term History, ed. I. Hodder
(Cambridge, 1987), pp.117-31.

36
5. Interpreting Cemeteries (1): Ethnicity and Religion.
How can our understanding of the post-Roman period be helped by the study of cemeteries?
This chapter examines traditional ways of interpreting funerary data to investigate ethnicity and/or
religion.

i. Ethnicity.
The identification of 'peoples' is the oldest purpose which the study of burial rites has been
made to serve. The approach is based upon several premises, some more valid than others. Above all,
it is driven by documentary historical concerns. Written sources tell us that in this period different
peoples migrated into the old Western Empire. Changes in the archaeological record were thus
ascribed to incoming peoples. This was associated with an assumption that the historically attested
'peoples' were homogeneous groups. The essentially sociological concept of ethnicity was frequently
equated with a biological idea of race, so that not only were all people called Franks in the written
record descendants of West Germanic-speaking people who once lived north of the Rhine, they were
even physically different from the people called Romans. The final preconception is simply that areas
where different customs prevail relate directly to ethnic groupings.

All these presuppositions are questionable. Assigning change in burial custom to migrating
newcomers was part of the wider phenomenon of the 'invasion hypothesis', that archaeological change
had to be explained by external factors: new people moving in and ousting the people represented by
the old cultural forms. This is rarely given much credence in archaeological circles today. It is too
simplistic; rather on a par with assuming that the change from neo-classical to neo-Gothic architecture
or from classicist to romantic art in the nineteenth century was the result of an invasion! As outlined
in chapter 2, the burial customs of many regions saw important changes in the seventh and eighth
centuries as well as the fifth; which did not result from invasions or migrations. This is a classic
example of how the use of historically attested events ('invasions') to explain archaeological
phenomena (changes in burial rite) has clouded rather than clarified the issue. Attention has rarely
been given to the question of whether or not the archaeological data themselves give any support to
the idea of a migration.

The question of what ethnicity meant in the early middle ages deserves a book of its own.(1)
Put very simply, ethnicity is an identity adopted by individuals in particular circumstances (when it suits
them), either to stress common interest or, on the other hand, to heighten perceived differences
between themselves and other people. It is only one of a number of identities which can be employed
in social relationships (others might be age, gender, social class or rank, religion, &c.). Ethnic identity
can be founded on a common language; it can also be based upon an idea of a common past, or origin,
or on shared customs, laws and social mores. An identification with a particular territory might also
enter the equation (see below). Other aspects can be employed to give added emphasis to this
common identity, such as dress and hair styles, names, and so on. Note, however, that none of these
particular aspects is a necessary condition for ethnic identity. The only requisite is that people believe
themselves (or are believed by outsiders) to belong to an ethnic group. Ethnicity is thus fundamentally
about belief: belief in shared origins, shared customs, religion, and so on. As such it is mutable, open
to negotiation and modification, and far easier to discuss in terms of mentality, than in concrete,
'objective' (or rather pseudo-objective) terms of racial, genetic or biological difference. Rarely is there
much objective reality behind the idea of common ethnic identity. All the elements listed above (law,
religion, dress, custom, language, names) can be manipulated to create an ethnic identity.

What is more, 'ethnicity' can be only one of a number of levels of similar types of identity.
For instance, a man might today see himself as British, English, a southerner, a Londoner, a south
Londoner, or someone from Brixton, depending on the circumstances (even leaving aside other

37
important elements in the equation, such as Afro-Caribbean, Asian, or Chinese descent). The same
was true in the Roman and post-Roman periods, when an individual might be described as 'Roman',
'Gallic', 'from the city of Tours', and ultimately from a particular rural district or even village at various
times. We might wish to distinguish simple 'residential', 'locational' or territorial identity from ethnicity,
but this is by no means as easy as it sounds. We might agree that to identify onesself as an inhabitant
of Brixton is simply to identify one's place of abode, but what if, by 'I am from Brixton', one means 'I
was born there'? What kind of identity does that imply? It is difficult to know where territorial identity
shades into ethnicity in the Brixton inhabitant's hierarchy of identities. Modern regional identities can
imply more than just common residence, and include beliefs about shared characteristics: 'ways of
doing things'. 'We don't do things like that around here.' In the post-Roman period, this vagueness
was much greater; it is modern students, not early medieval people, who have decided that 'national' or
'tribal' names (Frank, Saxon, Goth, Roman) are somehow more 'ethnic' than other identities, such as
Austrasian, Neustrian, 'man of Hampshire', 'citizen of Clermont', 'man from the district of
Scarponne',(2) or whatever.

How, then, does one apply the concept of ethnicity to archaeological funerary remains? The
problems are manifold. At one level we must ask whether differences in funeral rite necessarily relate
to ethnic differences, or at least to what kind of identity they relate. The burial rites at Dieue-sur-Meuse
and Lavoye (Meuse) show very clear differences in detail, even though they are only 20 km. or so apart.
Pader(3) demonstrated similarly significant differences between the neighbouring sites of Westgarth
Gardens and Hollywell Row in East Anglia. We can only argue that these sites were inhabited by
different ethnic groups, if we are content to define the differing community mores of each rural
community as constituting an 'ethnic' identity. If this was the case then there were far more ethnicities
in early medieval Europe than we usually envisage. If we accept this, then we need to be careful not to
choose only a few, specific differences in our data and make them apply to a limited, chosen range of
ethnic identities attested in the written sources, ignoring the rest of the diversity in our evidence.

Where we perceive a change in burial custom which may relate to a historically attested
migration we need to examine whether or not the archaeological evidence suggests that the new rite
was introduced by the newcomers. We need to look closely at whether our archaeological evidence
actually suggests that the rite is part of the practices of a particular, new ethnic group, in the middle of
a 'host' population. Does it really differ significantly from earlier local customs, or could it simply be a
development of these? Is it really the same as the rites in the immigrants' home territories? If so, does
it appear first in these home regions? Let us consider some examples. The first need not detain us
long. That the introduction of cremation into lowland Britain was the result of migration from
northern Germany seems beyond doubt. Welch,(4) for example, demonstrates clearly that the
similarities in rite between the two areas are too great to result from chance. Another plausible case
concerns the group of well-furnished cemeteries in Charente (see ch.2) which may well represent a
settlement of people from 'northern Gaul'.

The other well-known example of this explanation concerns the Reihengräberzivilisation - the
reintroduction into north-western Europe of furnished inhumation.(5) This has long been seen as the
product of Germanic immigration. There is a vague correspondence between the regions where this
custom predominated and those where 'Germanic' settlement was densest, though there is an element
of circular argument here since the extent of 'Germanic' settlement is often assessed by the presence or
otherwise of 'row-grave' cemeteries! Unfortunately for this theory, the custom is first found well inside
the Roman Empire in 'northern Gaul', before the barbarian invasions. This was explained away by
assuming that these furnished burials were those of German allied troops (foederati) in the Roman army.
This explanation too is unsatisfactory for several reasons. First and foremost, there is no logical reason
to see German influence in these burials, which are entirely different from those in the immigrants'

38
homelands in Germany. What is more, they decline in numbers in the first half of the fifth century,
when the migrations were taking place.

So, in some cases new customs can be linked with new people, but in most others they cannot.
Even where they can, however, we should note that the migrating barbarian tribes, as more recent
research into documentary sources has shown, were themselves not homogeneous units. They
incorporated individuals of diverse origins and 'peoples' like the Saxons and Franks, even before they
entered the Empire, had never been more than loose confederacies (a 'Frank' might also, at various
times, see himself instead as a 'Bructuarian' or a 'Chattoarian' and so on). Once again we run up against
a mixed, hierachy of identities.

Material culture was manipulated to give unity to heterogeneous wandering bands; certain
hairstyles and clothing fashions were adopted. This was particularly the case once these bands had
settled in former provinces of the Empire. Other elements of 'ethnicity' were similarly employed:
'origin legends' and 'national histories' were written down; law-codes were promulgated, allegedly as
codifications of the ancient laws of particular peoples; and so on. Historians have coined the term
'ethnogenesis' for this process of creating new ethnic identities in the early middle ages. Rituals such as
those of burial could similarly be employed to accentuate a fictive ethnic identity. The 'Lombard' and
'Gothic' cemeteries in Italy and Spain probably mark communities who wanted to emphasise some
kind of difference from the rest of the population. Even then the picture could be complicated. Since
it was the incomers' military elites who dominated post-Roman society there were many reasons why
local people would want to adopt their ethnicity, by dressing in, say, Lombard styles, adopting
Lombard names and, perhaps, by burying their dead in 'Lombard' fashion; 'the poor Roman imitates
the Goth' as one Italian wrote.(6)

Similar lessons apply to the use of clothing and artefact styles, as revealed in cemeteries, to
detect ethnic groups. Old identifications of ethnic groups from the frequencies of certain weapon
types (franciscas equal Franks, &c.) need not now be taken seriously. Differences in dress fashions and
forms of artefact have, however, sometimes been shown to correspond (usually more vaguely than is
often assumed) to early medieval political divisions, for example between Visigothic Septimania and
the remainder of southern Gaul,(7) or between 'Saxon' and 'Anglian' regions of lowland Britain. Again,
these may relate to different post-Roman ethnicities but we should make it clear how we understand
these ethnic identities. They are politically created, further examples of the use of material culture to
give unity and identity to heterogeneous people gathered into political units in the aftermath of the
Empire's collapse. We may well be right to identify a 'Spanish Visigothic' buckle or a 'Jutish' brooch;
the people who were buried with them may well have thought of themselves as Goths or Jutes. That
does not necessarily mean they or their ancestors came from particular regions of the Balkans or
Denmark. Finally, as mentioned, there are many regional differences in dress and burial style even
within early medieval political units. We must be careful that we do not choose to study only those
which conform to our understanding of the written sources.

Finally, attempts were made to detect 'Germans' and 'Romans' by skull measurement and other
aspects of physical anthropology. The width and length of skulls were measured; long skulls were
assumed to be those of Germans, round skulls those of Romans. Though, alarmingly, still employed in
parts of France, this is scientifically utterly invalid. People of different nationalities are not physically
distinguishable from each other (this is even true of 'races'; 'negroid' features can be found in the
skeletons of 'caucasian' people). Most attempts to use physical anthropology to detect different genetic
traits within a cemetery and thus document incoming populations are marred by their overt intentions
to 'prove' history, so that skeletal samples used to study physiological traits and differences are chosen
according to pre-existing ideas of where the supposed newcomers might have come from. The results
of all have, in any case, been unconvincing, statistically as well as methodologically.

39
To end this section, then, we must be careful in our assignment of different ethnicities to
different burials. No blanket theory can account for the varying types of 'ethnic' identity' and the
widely varying roles these played in the creation of furnished burial customs in different parts of the
Reihengräberzivilisation and at different times. To say that particular graves and cemeteries cannot be
identified with certainty or in a straightforward way, with particular groups of migrating Germans is
not (as is often claimed) to deny that there were migrations. It is simply to dispose of an always
simplistic and usually groundless supposition in order to enable its replacement with a more subtle
interpretation of the period.

ii. Religion.
Another traditional interpretation of cemeteries is religious. This stems ultimately from the
reasonable supposition that the means by which the dead are disposed of is to a large extent governed
by religious belief. The progression from this to an assumption that variations and changes in
mortuary practice equal variety and change in religion is more questionable, especially in relation to
archaeological remains. The element of death and burial revealed archaeologically, the grave, is only
one, albeit the last, stage of a process. Its form might not be governed by religious concerns, which
may concentrate upon mourning rituals, the forms and words of the 'burial service' and so on. Not
only the burial custom, but also the decoration of funerary artefacts, have been employed to determine
the religion of the deceased. Let us examine these methods in turn.

The oldest religious interpretation of burial customs is based on the assumption that burial with
grave-goods is pagan, perhaps because grave-goods were thought to indicate a particularly pagan view
of the afterlife. In the archaeology of lowland Britain this idea is still common, because of a
chronological correspondence between the period of most lavish grave furnishing and the era before
the Anglo-Saxons' conversion in the seventh century. Furnished cemeteries and graves are thus
habitually referred to as 'pagan Anglo-Saxon'.

This belief is highly flawed. As Peter Ucko demonstrated,(8) there is no necessary connection
between burial rite and specific belief about the afterlife. Moreover, in our period, the Church never
outlawed the burial of grave-goods, other than altar cloths and the consecrated host. When, slightly
later, it did so, this was simply because at that time the only areas where furnished burial was still
practised happened to be the pagan regions of Scandinavia. When Theoderic the Great outlawed
grave-goods he did so not for religious reasons but, he claimed, for economic ones; it was a waste of
precious metal. Furthermore, we know of lavishly furnished Christian graves in churches, from both
written(9) and archaeological(10) sources. The description of early Anglo-Saxon furnished inhumation
as pagan suffers from insularity. Furnished burial rites existed across the channel in Christian 'northern
Gaul'. As noted in chapter 2, directly analogous changes in funerary custom, involving the gradual
abandonment of grave-goods, also took place in seventh-century 'northern Gaul', where conversion to
Christianity cannot provide the explanation. For inhumations, the term 'pagan Saxon' is thus very
misleading and should be avoided.

Cremation and horse-burial are exceptions; these are repeatedly and specifically condemned as
pagan in Christian writing. Unfortunately that does not mean that all practitioners of such rites were
necessarily pagans. The lesson of all such early medieval church law was that it was aimed at professed
Christians persisting with 'pagan' practices.

Religious explanations depending upon such ideas as 'sacrifice', as stated in chapter 2, invoke
concepts which are too emotive. How does one distinguish archaeologically between religious human
sacrifice and the equally ritualized execution of a murderer? Other religious interpretations involve
funerary artefacts. The use of the number of lateral arms on the crosses decorating Poitevin

40
sarcophagus lids to determine Catholic orthodoxy or Arian heresy (three for Catholics, two for Arians)
was dismissed by Edward James.(11) The religious interpretation of symbols such as the cross or
particular animal designs found in decorative art is equally mistaken and was the subject of a careful
and useful critique by Bailey Young.(12) Early medieval art employed seemingly deliberate ambiguity.
In this stylized milieu, we cannot now distinguish a Christian 'Daniel in the Lions' Den' from a pagan
'Man threatened by Evil Spirits' motif without an accompanying inscription. It is likely that we were
never meant to be able to.

The diversity of early medieval burial custom is too great to be explained by religion. Nor do
geographical and chronological changes correspond to historically-attested religious variation. This is
not to dismiss the input of religion into early medieval burial but rather to claim that a religious
explanation cannot account for the archaeological traces of post-Roman funerary behaviour. Ethnic
and religious explanations cannot be applied in blanket fashion and indeed are unsatisfactory unless
heavily refined and modified. In the next chapter we shall examine possible alternative explanations.

Notes.

1 P. Amory, 'The meaning and purpose of ethnic terminology in the Burgundian laws.' Early
Medieval Europe 2.1, pp.1-28, is a valuable study, with an excellent bibliography.

2 'Homo Scarponinsis': Fredegar's Chronicle, IV.52. J.M. Wallace-Hadrill (ed. & trans.), The Fourth
Book of the Chronicle of Fredegar with its Continuations (Oxford, 1960).

3 E.J. Pader, 'Material symbolism and social relations in mortuary studies' in Anglo-Saxon
Cemeteries, 1979 (op.cit., ch.1, n.1), pp.143-59, and Symbolism, Social Relations and the Interpretation of
Mortuary Remains, B.A.R.(S) 130 (Oxford, 1982).

4 Anglo-Saxon England (op.cit., ch.1, n.1), pp.12 & 64-69.

5 Halsall (op.cit., ch.1, n.25) discusses this, and the methodology of identifying migrants' burial
rites. It should be noted that this article represents only the last in a series of scholarly doubts cast
upon the 'Germanic' identification of these burials by Belgian, English, and American researchers, but
goes furthest in rejecting the empirical basis of the assumption. For some similar doubts, see Hills,
'The archaeology of anglo-Saxon England in the pagan period: a review' (op.cit., ch.1, n.1), and James,
The Merovingian Archaeology of South-West Gaul (op.cit., ch.1,n.42), pp.179-81; however, all these
previous studies eventually accept that, in spite of the dubious evidence, it is reasonable to call these
burials 'Germanic' or 'Anglo-Saxon'.

6 'Anonymous Valesianus', 12.61. J.C. Rolfe (ed. & trans.), Ammianus Marcellinus, vol.3, (London,
1939), pp.508-69, at pp.546-7.

7 E. James, 'Septimania and its frontier. An archaeological approach' in Visigothic Spain: New
Approaches ed. E. James (Oxford, 1980), pp.223-41.

8 P. Ucko, 'Ethnography and the archaeological interpretation of funerary remains', World


Archaeology 1, no.2 (October, 1969), pp.262-77.

9 See Gregory of Tours, Histories VIII.21; Gregory of Tours. The History of the Franks. trans. L.
Thorpe (Harmondsworth, 1974).

41
10 The Arnegundis burial, the graves under Cologne cathedral, the 'founder graves' under
southern German churches, &c.

11 James, The Merovingian Archaeology of South-West Gaul (op.cit., ch.1, n.42), p.69. As James says,
'one wonders, somewhat irreverently, of which heresy the occupant of the four-armed cross
sarcophagus from Poitiers was guilty.'

12 B.K. Young,'Merovingian funeral rites and the evolution of Christianity: A study in the
historical interpretation of archaeological material', Univ. of Pennsylvania PhD thesis (1975), partly
published as 'Paganisme, christianisme et rites funéraires', Archéologie Médiévale 7 (1977), pp.5-81.

42
6. Interpreting Cemeteries (2): Society and Economy.

Analysis of cemeteries can shed light upon post-Roman social organization. Most analyses
which have been carried out have concentrated upon the areas where furnished burial was common, as
the possibilities are there more obvious (often misleadingly so!). This chapter will follow this trend but
suggest ways in which other kinds of cemetery might be studied.

i. Wealth and social standing in the so-called Reihengräberzivilisation.


One way in which furnished graves have been employed to study society is through the varying
numbers and style of grave-goods. Some graves have more artefacts than others; some contain what
we might perceive as more valuable items. Researchers assumed that the lavishness of the grave
furnishing reflected the deceased's rank or wealth. There are several means of moving from this
premise to the identification of social hierarchy.

In the first the 'wealth' of the burial is examined. This can be done simply by counting the
grave-goods. Sometimes different grave-goods are given different 'scores' in an attempt to recreate
their varying values.(1) The numbers of graves with low, medium and high 'wealth scores' are then
compared, to extrapolate the relative numbers and importance of poor, 'middling' and wealthy people
in society.

An alternative method is to declare a grave to be rich by a subjective evaluation of the grave-


goods' quality and value. Another method, popular in German archaeology, has been to allocate
different historically-attested 'ranks' - noble, freeman, half-free, slave - to graves with different
combinations of weapons (the analysis was largely carried out on male graves).(2) R. Christlein refined
this by establishing 'quality groups', from A to D (A being the poorest; C-graves, the best-known, being
those of wealthy aristocrats) to which graves were assigned by the possession of one or more
diagnostic artefact types.

All these methods are problematic.(3) Establishing the relative value of early medieval objects
from a twentieth-century vantage point is extremely difficult. The 'scoring' of artefacts has occasionally
been flawed, leading to the assignment of very odd relative wealths to graves, as in one study of Anglo-
Saxon cemeteries, where each necklace bead counted as one point, and thus women were made
massively more wealthy than men. In pre-monetary gift exchange economies such as generally existed
in post-Roman Europe an object's value may have depended much more upon social factors than upon
the simple cost of raw materials and labour (especially when the latter was carried out by slaves). What
looks unimportant and everyday to us may have been very valuable because it was a gift from a
powerful person, or because it was a badge enabling the owner to participate in important activities.

Assigning ranks to the subjects of different graves is not only untestable but extremely
implausible - resulting for example in a state of affairs where there are more nobles in Alamannia than
in 'northern Gaul', more slaves in Bavaria, where there were more nobles in the sixth century than the
seventh, and so on! The quality groups model still has potential but needs greater refinement.

It is easy to poke fun at these analyses but what do we put in their place? The key to
understanding furnished burial is to remember that it the deposition of grave-goods was active: part of
a public ritual. The custom arose in the north-western provinces of the Roman Empire, at a time
when imperial power ceased to be able to make itself felt in these regions. The deposition of grave-
goods, frequently employing Roman symbols of power (belt-sets associated with civil or military
power, brooch styles with similar associations), weaponry, and displays of wealth(4) was used by

43
particular families within late fourth- and early fifth-century communities as a means of underpinning
their power when traditional means of legitimizing local predominance were becoming less effective
and as new groups competed with old for political control of the former provinces. The rite can only
have been effective if there was an audience for this display, and it was symptomatic of profound social
instability.(5)

By the heyday of furnished burial, the sixth century, we can trace local mores governing the
grave-goods deemed appropriate to particular types of people, especially those of particular ages and
genders (see below). By this time (unlike in the first phase of furnished burial, just discussed) whole
communities, rather than isolated families, were depositing grave-goods with their dead. The fact that
these normative codes existed argues that the symbolism of the display was intended to be understood
by an audience. The norms act, in a way, as the 'grammar' of display, necessary for any public symbolic
act to be understood by its audience. But although, within cemeteries, most families buried their dead
with generally similar arrays of grave-goods, there are differences between burials of the same general
type. For example, some young adult males are buried with much more lavish grave-goods than
others, even if they all conform to general ideas that such men should be buried with weapons. This
argues for a certain amount of competition in the custom, and this is supported if we consider the
burial's 'audience' further. The display of grave-goods was visible only for a very short period of time;
once the grave was filled in the grave-goods would no longer have been visible.(6) It was, it seems,
seen by a large local audience (further increasing the need for easily understood symbolism. Sixth-
century cemeteries appear to have been large, and shared by a number of neighbouring communities.
Funerals and associated feasting were valuable opportunities not only to display the family's ability to
provide appropriate grave-furnishings, but also to distribute gifts and food, cementing or enhancing a
position in the community. Analyses have shown that mature adult males - thus those with a social
position to be inherited - tended to receive the most lavish burials, perhaps indicating that their
funerals were important in demonstrating the heirs' right and ability to succeed to this social status.
Again, the conclusion is reached that burial with grave-goods represents a society where local power is
open to competition, and thus somewhat unstable.(7)

As will be discussed below, people of different ages and sexes received different types of grave-
goods, so to evaluate which people really had unusually lavish grave-furnishings, we must analyse
genders and age-groups separately. We must also study cemeteries individually because, as has been
noted, customs change over short distances, and compare only graves of the same period or phase.
The chronological variation in the lavishness of burial was mentioned in chapter 2. The oft-cited fact
that Sutton Hoo mound 1 contained less gold than Childeric's burial is not, as has been claimed, an
index of the lowlier status of the former. Grave-furnishings were, throughout, less lavish in the age of
Sutton Hoo than in Childeric's day. If we compare Sutton Hoo mound 1 and Childeric's grave only
with their respective contemporaries, Sutton Hoo might prove to be the more distinguished. Such
careful studies will examine not only grave-goods but other variables such as the size, shape,
construction and arrangement of the grave, its position in the cemetery, the arrangement of the body,
and so on.

These refined analyses will show more clearly which graves differed significantly from their
fellows, but we must remember that this social differentiation was competed for and thus insecure. We
are not dealing with the certainty of rigid social rank or caste. This applies especially to 'founder
graves', those exceptionally lavish graves which appear to mark the creation of a cemetery, or of a new
phase of a cemetery's use. To be successful in such an act of foundation, we should expect these
graves to be unusual displays of prestige. No arguments can therefore be made from the absence of
such graves in later stages of the cemetery (or cemetery phase).

44
A quite different picture emerges in seventh-century 'row-graves'. As noted in chapter 2, in
areas like 'northern Gaul' and lowland Britain, grave-goods seem more standardized and often less
lavish, suggesting less competition. The proliferation of small cemeteries possibly indicates a smaller,
even more localized audience at the funeral. As has been described, social elites often removed
themselves from community grave-yards for burial in separate cemeteries (as in Anglo-Saxon England
and southern Germany) or churches. Churches and other above-ground monuments such as barrows
suggest a different audience for the display. Such constructions were often physically visible from far
away. They were also permanent. Perhaps these monuments not only overawed the locals but also
'spoke' to an audience of similarly powerful people outside the locality. These developments argue for
a greater security of social status, a more assured control of resources and a more rigid social hierarchy.
In such a context there was less scope for competitive grave-good display and indeed it had largely
been abandoned by c.700.(8)

ii. Other possibilities.


Subtle analyses allow us to examine many other aspects of society. As repeatedly noted, men
and women were often buried with different kinds of grave-goods. Examination of the relative
lavishness of male and female graves, and of the symbolism of artefact types used to indicate sex
permits significant insights into gender relations, and the roots of male and female power. Such
analyses can be refined by taking age into account. How did the kinds of grave-goods change between
childhood and adolescence, or in old age? If we can determine the age at which a boy received his
weapons or a girl her jewellery, we might be able to say something about when people reached
majority. In 'northern Gaul', for example, women seem to have come of age earlier than men. The
study of the graves of children and adolescents may tell us a great deal about how people were treated
at such ages.

How are old people treated in burial? Frequently less attention seems to have been given to the
furnishing of their graves than to those of younger adults, perhaps giving us a useful insight into early
medieval concepts of old age. In short, promising possibilities exist for the study of row-grave
cemetery evidence to illuminate far more aspects of post-Roman social organization than those relating
to social hierarchy and rank.

We might also use all kinds of cemeteries to examine population size and structure. Estimating
the size of a cemetery-using population requires the cemetery's complete or nearly complete
excavation. Dividing the number of graves by the number of twenty-five-year 'generational' time-spans
during which the cemetery was used may give the approximate size of a living generation. The
community's size might then be estimated from this. Of course we do not know how many
settlements shared a grave-yard but this still sheds light on the size of the groups of people who
considered themselves to be enough of a community to share the same burial place. Changes in the
size of such 'burial communities' can also be studied. A cemetery permits us to look at the ratios of
males to females. In certain cases the low number of women has led to the suggestion that female
infanticide was practised in some rural communities. Estimates of child mortality and of life
expectancy might be arrived at but both are problematic, particularly the latter. Physical
anthropological methods often underestimate the age of people over forty, and thus a report may
indicate a misleadingly low number of old people.(9)

Palaeopathology, the study of ancient teeth and bone, can also be used to examine early
medieval states of health, causes of death, diseases, and kinds of diet and nutritional shortfall. Study of
'north Gallic' cemeteries has revealed hernias and dislocations, whilst analysis of Anglo-Saxon sites has
shown congenital deformation and even spina bifida. A study of the site of Eccles (Kent) has revealed
how the people buried there were the victims of a massacre.(10) There is still much scope for this kind
of work.

45
Analysis of cemetery organization may shed light on social mores. Is a cemetery divided into
small groups containing people of both sexes and all ages, and thus possibly representing families?(11)
Do such family groups use subtly different burial styles? Or is the cemetery organized more as a unity,
perhaps being ordered into regular lines of graves? Are women and/or children buried in discrete
parts of the site? Answers to these questions should reveal much about the relative strengths of family
identities and community rules.(12)

iii. Economics.
Post-Roman cemeteries are a valuable source of evidence for economic history. Firstly we can
study the funeral artefacts. If we can establish certain artefacts' place of origin we can assess the areas
to which they travelled, be that through trade or gift exchange, or as booty. We can study the
complexity of artefact forms to suggest the degree of craft specialization. Other funerary artefacts can
also be useful. Burial in stone coffins or under elaborate gravestones argues for an organized stone-
working industry, especially where the stone had to be quarried elsewhere and transported to the site.
In Lorraine, the origins of such an industry can be dated to c.600.

The second line of enquiry is more subtle and uses the burial customs themselves. In areas
such as sixth-century 'northern Gaul' we have seen that the funeral was an important event, probably
seen by a large audience. Traces on the cemeteries themselves (pits full of ashes and debris, ashes in
grave-fills, and food offerings in burials) suggest funeral feasting. This and the competitive nature of
grave furnishing may shed light on the conspicuous consumption and gift exchange so important in
socially embedded economies.

iv. Analysing cemeteries without grave-goods.


Studies of population size and structure, of health and of family and community mores, as well
as some of the economic aspects just mentioned, can be carried out on cemeteries whether or not they
contain grave-goods. The social analyses discussed earlier are, however, less easy to perform, which
probably explains why they have rarely been carried out in regions without grave-goods. However,
though they require subtlety and good-quality data, possibilities do exist.

Variables such as the size of the grave, its shape, its construction, the positioning and
arrangement of the corpse, and the grave's position within the cemetery can all be revealed and
correlations between them sought. Such correlations can be compared with age and gender to attempt
to discover community burial rules or identify discrete groups of graves, as well as divergent practices.
The organization of the cemetery can again be studied, looking at the positioning of graves of children,
or of men and women. Are these clustered together, or is the cemetery organized into what appear to
be family groups? One might also look at whether children receive separate burial, or whether they are
instead buried in the graves dug for the interment of adults (as is often still the case today). Positioning
of graves within churches might be used to estimate the deceased's social standing. Are different sexes
or age-groups buried in different parts of the church? Are children treated differently from adults?
Funerary monuments and inscriptions can be studied and related to the other variables just listed.
Such analyses are still conspicuous by their absence, but it should be clear that with good evidence
much more might be made of cemeteries without grave-goods.

v. Conclusion. Cemeteries and the historian.


The historian of the post-Roman period has, then, much to learn from the archaeology of
cemeteries. Light may be shed on the nature of the social hierarchy, gender, age, concepts of the
family and of community, economics and so on, all areas for which the documentary historian has only
fragmentary evidence. The variety of burial custom and the changes of rite over even short distances

46
indicate graphically the diversity of rural society in this period and warn us against discussing the social
history of large regions in too general terms.

Chronological and geographical changes in funerary practice are indicative of changes in


society, and not necessarily, or indeed often, ethnic or religious changes. Cemetery studies furnish a
valuable lesson in the integration of written and excavated evidence. The old ethnic and religious
interpretations which have clouded understanding for so long resulted from archaeological study being
driven by an often simplistic interpretation of written sources. The possibilities now offered stem
from the analysis of archaeological material on its own merits. The results of this can be compared
with detailed study of the documents. We may not be surprised to find that in future the tables are
turned and that the careful analysis of cemeteries plays a large part in driving a refined social historical
study of the written evidence.

Notes.
1 C.J. Arnold, 'Wealth and social structure: A matter of life and death' in Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries
1979 (op.cit., ch.1, n.1), pp.81-142, and, more sophisticatedly, J. Shephard, 'The social identity of the
individual in isolated barrows and barrow cemeteries in Anglo-Saxon England', in Space, Hierarchy and
Society. Interdisciplinary Studies in Social Area Analysis, B.A.R. (S) 59 (Oxford, 1979) pp.47-79.

2 R. Samson, 'Social structures in Reihengräber: mirror or mirage?' Scottish Archaeological Review 4,


pt.2 (1987), pp.116-26, fig. 1, is a useful tabulation of attempts to do this.

3 For useful critiques see Samson op.cit. previous note, and E. James, 'Burial and status in the
early medieval West.' Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 5th series, 39 (1989), pp.23-40.

4 Note that there are no unambiguously 'Germanic' or barbarian symbols deployed in these
burials. This suggests that even if some of the occupants of these graves were Germans, they were
displaying their social status with particularly 'Roman' symbolism.

5 Halsall, 'The origins of the Reihengräberzivilisation. Forty years on' (op.cit., ch.1, n.25)
discusses this in more detail.

6 This temporary nature of the display may be underlined by the fact that graves in some
Rhineland cemeteries appear to have been 'robbed' very soon after burial, a small trench being dug
down to the area of the grave where the jewellery was likely to be deposited. Perhaps the deceased's
family was surreptitiously recovering the wealth which it had placed in the burials!

7 This paragraph is based largely on my own research on the region of Metz: G. Halsall, Settlement
and Social Organization: The Merovingian Region of Metz (Cambridge 1995), cc.3-4 and 8-9. Examination of
cemeteries in other parts of northern Gaul, southern Germany and lowland Britain suggests that
similar general principles apply. The fact that the furnished burial rite also appears in northern Italy
and the Castilian plain in the sixth century, at a time when there was similar social and political
upheaval, lends support to this interpretation.

8 G. Halsall, 'Social change around 600 AD: An Austrasian perspective' in The Age of Sutton Hoo
(op.cit., ch.1, n.1) is a case study of these differences between the sixth and seventh centuries and their
explanation. This is updated in Halsall, Settlement and Social Organization: The Merovingian Region of Metz
(op.cit., previous note), ch.9. Several other papers in The Age of Sutton Hoo tackle similar problems from
different perspectives.

47
9 For discussions of the problems involved in the study of skeletal data, see Burial Archaeology.
Current Research, Methods and Developments (op.cit., introduction, n.2); in Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries. A
Reappraisal (op.cit., ch.1, n.1).

10 S.J. Wenham, 'Anatomical interpretations of Anglo-Saxon Weapon injuries', in Weapons and


Warfare in Anglo-Saxon England (op.cit., ch.1, n.21), pp.123-39. Morris, Death Ritual and Social Structure in
Classical Antiquity (op.cit., introduction, n.1), pp., is a very useful introduction to the problems of
palaeopathology.

11 Jørgensen, 'Castel Trosino and Nocera Umbra...' (op.cit., ch.4, n.15) attempts to reveal family
groupings within 'Lombard' cemeteries, but his groupings do not seem entirely convincing, and he is
too ready to assume that difference in the lavishness of the grave-furnishings relates directly to real
differences in wealth and social rank.

13 Halsall, Settlement and Social Organization (op.cit., n.7), cc.3-4 & 8-9 attempts, on the basis of
admittedly problematic data, to follow up some of the suggestions set out here.

48
Appendix: The Bizarre World of Funerary Archaeology...
To end on a lighter note, it is worth mentioning some of the commendably imaginative
interpretations of grave-goods put forward in the early days of post-Roman cemetery archaeology
(when, in fact most of these graves were thought to be those of Romans). I have mostly chosen
examples from the archaeology of 'northern Gaul', but similar ideas were circulating in other countries
at the same time. We may laugh, but is worth remembering that today's supposedly scientific ideas
might well be viewed in a similar vein 200 years hence...

One would-be successor to the glory that was Rome was Napoleon I, who crowned himself
Emperor in Rome in 1804. Napoleon had adopted the bee as his imperial symbol, perhaps taking
inspiration from the many bee-shaped gold decorations found in King Childeric's grave. Since the time
of Chifflet (who, however, also thought Childeric's brooch was a stylus for writing on wax tablets!),
these had been interpreted as decorations of the king's cloak, and Napoleon duly wore a cloak
decorated with bees at his coronation. The decorations in question more probably came from
Childeric's horse-harness. Napoleon's royalist (and republican) enemies would have laughed long and
loud had they known that, rather than dressing himself as a king of the Franks he had instead clothed
himself in the style of the king's horse...

Usually it was the Merovingians' head-gear which caused confusion. In 1724 Montfaucon
published two large seventh-century Merovingian plaque-buckles which, as was common, he assumed
were Gaulish. Perhaps because, as is not infrequent, the belts to which the buckles were attached had
been placed beside the deceased's head, Montfaucon assumed that they were a form of Gaulish
woman's head-dress. In 1727, Jacques Martin, realising that these objects are far too heavy to be worn
comfortably in one's hair, though at least attributing them to the Franks, cleverly modified
Montfaucon's argument by saying that these objects were specially made to pin in place the hairstyles
of dead women! At about the same time, early excavators noted the similarity in shape between certain
types of shield-boss and late medieval 'Kettle Helmets', and interpreted them as such, in spite of the
fact that they are rarely more than about 12cm. in diameter. Noting this fact, one bright spark
proposed the theory that the Franks had very small heads!

Slightly later, French and German antiquarians had begun to find the remains of buckets in
Merovingian graves. The wooden part of the object having rotted away, only the bronze rim
decoration remained, accompanied by the bronze handle. Now, these bronze decorations often take
the form of a decorated ring, circling the mouth of the bucket, from which a series of triangular
plaques project downwards. If turned upside down the whole rather resembles the classic style of
crown, and indeed this was how these early archaeologists interpreted the objects. Marvellous
reconstruction drawings were made, usually showing the handle as a bizarre chin-strap, but occasionally
cheating, turning it through 180 degrees and depicting it as a bronze band passing over the top of the
head, perhaps to keep some cloth (velvet?) covering in place. These drawings are triumphs of the
imagination, but one does wonder what the Bourbon royal house, if it had only known, would have
made of drawings of its illustrious forebears wearing buckets on their heads!

49
Glossary.
Articulated. A skeleton in which the bones are still in anatomical connection.

Barrow. An earth mound erected over a burial, sometimes surrounded by a ditch from which
the earth was excavated. In the case of very small barrows, this 'ring-ditch' (qv.) is often the only
remaining evidence of the barrow's existence.

Boss. See Shield-boss.

Cist. A grave taking the form of a subterranean stone chamber. Sometimes the grave is
roofed and floored in stone as well. The term is used here to describe all types of such chambers:
those of rough dry stone construction, those made from flagstones set upright, elaborate masonry
chambers, and so on, as well as those where the stone lining is much less complete, perhaps only
surrounding one end of the grave.

Dorsal plaque. See Plaque-buckle.

Francisca. A distinctive fifth- and sixth-century throwing axe associated in written sources
with the Franks.

Inhumation. A burial in which the body is buried without being burnt (cremated) first.

Lamellar. Armour made up of hundreds of small iron plates, laced together at top and bottom.

Penannular A ditch around a grave in which a gap (possibly an entrance) is left.


ditch. Originally the up-cast was probably left on one or both sides of the ditch to increase
the visibility of this kind of grave marker.

Plaque-buckle. A type of buckle, particularly common in the seventh century, in which the ring and
tongue are joined to a large bronze or iron plaque, fastened to the belt. The plaque is often elaborately
decorated, and the other end of the belt is frequently attached to a matching counter-plaque, with a
third, smaller, often square, dorsal plaque decorating the belt point where it passes the small of the
back.

Reihengräberzivilisation. The 'row-grave civilisation'. An archaeological term used, misleadingly,


to describe as a unity the archaeologically-revealed funerary cultures of northern Gaul, southern
Germany and lowland Britain, in which inhumation with grave-goods predominated.

Ring-ditch. A ditch surrounding a burial, forming a complete, unbroken ring or circle around it.
This may have originally been a grave marker in itself, but it has been more recently suggested that
many of these ditches are the only surviving traces of small barrows (qv.). See also penannular ditch.

Sarcophagus A stone coffin, usually comprising two components, a hollowed out


(pl. body and a lid. Either component, but usually just the lid (which would
sarcophagi) be visible at surface level), might be decorated.

Scramasax. An often long and heavy single-edged dagger.

Shield-Boss. An iron dome, projecting from the centre of a shield, covering the hole across which
the shield-grip was fastened, and into which the warrior's fist fitted.

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Simple Trench A grave formed by a trench cut into the earth, without any supporting
(ST) Grave. wooden or or stone structures (French 'tombe en terre libre').

Usual Gender A phrase which I have coined to descibe, crudely if conveniently, the
Rule. common general rule whereby men are interred with weapons and women with
jewellery. It should be remembered that there are local variations. Some items of jewellery can be
found in male graves at certain times and in certain places.

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