A commonplace among English historians today is the importance of English ties with Aquitaine during the later Middle Ages. For some three centuries, historical events came to link the destinies of these two countries and peoples who otherwise differed strikingly in economy, language and culture in general, with lasting consequences for both. It has long been taken for granted by both English and French historians that this association came about abruptly in the 1150s as a result of the ascent to the English throne of Henry of Anjou who, through his marriage to Eleanor, heiress of the duchy of Aquitaine, became the sovereign of that enormous territorial principality. Till the present no one has suspected that any significant ties existed between the Anglo-Saxons and Aquitanians prior to that time. To be sure, the Anglo-Saxons had been in contact with the late Carolingian kings in the tenth century and with the Normans in the eleventh, but those were purely northern French phenomena. So too were the important Anglo-Saxon relations with the monks of Fleury-sur-Loire in the later tenth and early eleventh centuries, but these were not known to have had any repercussions in Aquitaine far to the south.

This article demonstrates that some 180 of the 2,400 text glosses in the ‘Leiden Glossary’ derive from an epitome of the Etymologiae. A reconstruction of this lost source shows that it consisted of abbreviated entries from all twenty of Isidore's books, with selected books heavily glossed in Old English. Mirroring the encyclopedic scope of the Etymologiae, this seventh-century epitome was extensively excerpted by glossary-compilers and gave thousands of English words their first written form.

This work tackles long held assumptions in both archaeology and history surrounding elite diets in early medieval England i.e., that higher status individuals had a more meat-heavy diet and that this was especially true for males. We utilise the largest isotopic dataset on early medieval diets to date to show that not only were high protein diets extremely rare in England before Scandinavian settlement, but that dietary differences cannot be linked to gender or social status from the funerary record. Comparisons with the calculations made in our companion article and the bioarchaeological evidence demonstrate further that the lists of food demanded by eighth-century kings were not the basis for regular elite diet, and that these texts probably represent the supplies for infrequent feasts.

This article discusses the unfinished mappa mundi found in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College 265, dates it to a late-eleventh-century (c. 1065–95) production in Worcester, identifying it as a nearly exact and earlier analogue of two later twelfth-century English maps of the world from the Ramsey area (Oxford, St John's College 17 and London, British Library, Harley 3667). Contained as it is in a collection of Wulfstanian materials, the Worcester map's relationship to these so-called ‘Bryhtferthian’ maps requires a rethinking of how such maps may have circulated and functioned outside of a computisitical context. The close connections between these three maps further point to a unique, late Anglo-Saxon tradition of mappae mundi thus far unrecognized.

The most famous manuscripts with music of the early Middle Ages in England are the Winchester ‘Tropers’ at Oxford and Cambridge. More has been written about them than about all the lesser known sources put together, and it is right that this should have been so, for the troper at Cambridge preserves one of the oldest repertories of polyphonic music while the other, the so-called ‘Æthelred troper’, has provided generations of scholars with the task of establishing its relationship to the other manuscript. This activity has resulted in a high degree of clarification, but the Winchester ‘Tropers’ are not the whole of early English medieval music – even though a study of their combined trope repertories would be a welcome contribution – and we must begin to turn our attention to other sources of the period.

This article tries to explore the question of whether the Anglo-Saxons in the tenth and eleventh centuries actually had an interest in elaborate and socially distinctive food preparations – whether, to use words that have been employed and defined by anthropologists and other social scientists, their food practices distinguished ‘cooking’ from ‘cuisine’, or even ‘gastronomy’. Through the study of written sources and archaeological data, we address several issues which can tell us about the Anglo-Saxons’ attitude towards food: the existence of proper kitchens and specialized cooks; the question of ‘privileged foods’ – categories of food widely recognized as suitable for social elites; and the ways by which recipes were transmitted. The answer is that the Anglo-Saxons may have known some forms of elaborate ‘cooking’, that ‘cuisine’ may have existed but cannot be identifi ed as such, and that ‘gastronomy’ was not a part of their thought world.

Madden's note on the flyleaf of BM Cotton Otho B. xi introduces the scholar to the remnants of a most interesting manuscript: ‘Previous to the fire of 1731 this MS. consisted of 231 leaves. In 1734 Oxley reported it as “burned”, and Planta says “Desideratur”. A description of its contents when perfect is given by Dr. Smith in his Catalogue 1696 and more in detail by Wanley in his Cat. libb. Septentr. apud Hickes, p. 219.’

In Lincolnshire as a whole, place-names which have Old English burh ‘a fortified place’ as their generics fall into two distinct geographical groups (fig. 1). In the northern half of the county, the locations of these names suggest that a comprehensive system of defence was eventually created for the territory of the Lindisfaran. In the far south, the two isolated instances of burh may signal original strongholds of Middle Angles styled in The Tribal Hidage the Bilmigas (but who on place-name evidence are more correctly to be called the Billingas) and the Gyrwe. It is, however, the burh names in that region defined as Lindsey in The Lindsey Survey of the reign of Henry I (1100–35) which are the focus of this paper.

A writer can put direct speech into the mouths of the characters within his story or he can report their speech indirectly, and his use of different methods of presenting or suggesting their speech is one of his most potent means of creating characterization and of controlling the effect of his story. In general the character who is given direct speech is more dramatically effective, more ‘real’, than the one who is represented through indirect speech; on the other hand, the many gradations within the broad category of ‘indirect speech’ allow the writer much more scope in the variety of function and the subtlety of effect that can be created. This is as true of early writers as of the modern novelist, and Ælfric is one who was clearly aware of the potentiality of both direct and indirect speech in reinforcing the message which he wished to bring home to his audience. This can be illustrated especially well from the saints' lives which he derived from Bede, where the source is more exactly known than it usually is and where comparison is possible not only with the Latin but also with the earlier Old English translation.

In The Fates of the Apostles Cynewulf shows only limited interest in the details of his heroes' lives and passions. He devotes more of his poem to meditation on the meaning of those events than to the actions themselves. Even so, for the last hundred years, scholars have sought to identify the source or sources of the hagiographical information the author incorporated into his text. Cynewulf speaks of having gathered his information from far and wide (lines 1–2), but most investigators have dismissed this statement as a conventional tag, and they have tried to identify the minimum number of sources needed to provide the details that Cynewulf relates. Efforts to locate a single source have always been in vain, but early investigators generally agreed that the most important source was probably the martyrology of the Venerable Bede or a related document. Not only did this text include nearly all of the information that Cynewulf chose to convey, but its attribution to Bede seemed to assure that it would have been available to an early-ninth-century poet. In 1908, however, this consensus was shaken by the publication of Henri Quentin's path-breaking investigation of the medieval martyrological tradition. Surprisingly, although nine decades have passed since this work appeared, its full implications have yet to be integrated into Cynewulf scholarship. Now a revival of the view that Cynewulf employed a martyrology makes the assimilation of Quentin's conclusions along with the results of more recent martyrological studies imperative.

Lexical and stylistic features indicate that the Preface to the Old English Bede was composed by a writer different from the anonymous Mercian who translated the body of the text. The Preface, therefore, cannot be taken to reveal aspects of the original translator's aims or attitude to the text. Recently discovered collations of the burnt manuscript London, British Library, Cotton Otho B. xi, made by John Smith prior to the 1731 fire, provide further insight, indicating that a copy of the West Saxon Genealogical Regnal List was attached to the Preface by the mid-tenth century. Thus the origins of the Preface may lie in an Alfredian or post-Alfredian initiative to disseminate the translation at some time later than its actual creation.

Critics have long wondered about the setting and intent of the Old English translation of Boethius's De consolatione philosophiae, first into prose and then into prosimetrum. This article situates the dual translation within the broader context of ninth- and tenth-century literary culture, challenging the received view of the two versions as separate projects and arguing instead that the Old English Boethius was conceived and received as a vernacular opus geminatum, or ‘twinned work’. While the opus geminatum and the prosimetrum are generally thought to maintain distinct generic identities, this case study allows for a more capacious understanding of both modes, which I demonstrate were inescapably linked in Anglo-Saxon circles – and which were shaped by a broader aesthetic of prose-verse mixture.

The Holme Riddles are a collection of 144 English riddles preserved in London, British Library, Harley 1960. Although the manuscript dates from the mid-seventeenth century, some of these riddles are apparently rooted in ancient Germanic tradition. One of these, an ancient ‘world-riddle’ according to the editor, is a version of the ‘oak-ship’ riddle:

Q. wn j lived j fed the liveing now j am dead j beare the live[in]g & with swift speed j walk our the liveing

A. a ship mad[e] of oake groweing feeds hogs with acorns now b[e]ars men & swims our fishes.

Although a great deal has been written about the sources and manner of compilation of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle in its various versions, very little attention has been paid to its earliest section – the annals covering the period from the landing of Julius Caesar, s.a. 60 BC, to the coming of Hengest and Horsa, s.a. 449. Eight of these annals deal with the history of Britain and derive their material from the chronological summary at the end of Bede's Historia Ecclesiastical. The remaining twenty-four (1–45 and 62–155) deal with world history, and the origin of their information is a matter of dispute. Plummer claimed that they are derived from ‘some epitome of universal history, the source of which I have not yet been able to trace’. Hodgkin, on the other hand, considered that the composition of the Chronicle was intimately connected with that of the Old English Orosius and took Orosius to be a major source for the annals in question:

Strap-ends represent the most common class of dress accessory known from late Anglo-Saxon England. At this period, new materials, notably lead and its alloys, were being deployed in the manufacture of personal possessions and jewellery. This newly found strap-end adds to the growing number of tongue-shaped examples fashioned from lead dating from this period. It is, however, distinctive in being inscribed with a personal name. The present article provides an account of the object and its text, and assesses its general significance in the context of a more nuanced interpretation of the social status of lead artefacts in late Anglo-Saxon England.

The Old English prose Genesis contains a series of innovative rubrics, unparalleled in the Vulgate tradition, which divide the story of Genesis into a series of holy biographies of the patriarchs Noah, Abraham and Joseph. These rubrics, added to the text in the eleventh century, use formulaic language derived from contemporary documents such as Anglo-Saxon wills and thereby regulate how Genesis was to be read and interpreted by an aristocratic layman or novice monk. The rubrics blend ancient Hebrew narratives, stories of the saints and the legal conventions familiar to the reader in order to portray ‘sacred history’ as an unbroken, legally sanctioned inheritance. They emphasize the Covenant of God with Abraham and the people of Israel and assure the contemporary reader that he too will inherit an unfulfilled promise manifested in God's covenant with the patriarchs.

In an article published in 1986 Michael Lapidge1 noted the occurrence of the term Umbrensium (from Humbrenses/Umbrenses) in both the U-text of Theodore's Indicia2 and the anonymous, eighth-century Whitby Vita S. Gregorii.3 This is by no means the only point of contact between the two works. Perhaps the most memorable episode in the Vita S. Gregorii is that of Gregory's weeping for the soul of Trajan, his tears having the effect of baptizing the dead emperor.

The use of demonstrative behaviour in political communication in the tenth and eleventh centuries (for example, proskynesis to obtain pardon) has been examined extensively over the last two decades, especially with regard to Ottonian and Salian Germany. So far, however, there has been no attempt to study its operation in Anglo-Saxon England. This paper aims to do so, looking for examples in narrative sources of demonstrative piety, reactions to rebellion, arbitration, petition and so on, and exploring how far the Anglo-Saxons were influenced by their continental neighbours and how far narrative sources themselves might have transmitted ideas.

No detailed study has ever been made of the East Saxon kingdom, and general works of Anglo-Saxon history usually devote only a few lines to it. Some incidents are well known, such as the conversion of Saberht in 604 by his uncle Æthelberht of Kent, and the apostacy of Sigehere during the plague of 664, while his co-ruler Sæbbi remained Christian. These events are frequently cited as evidence for the workings of overlordship or for the existence of joint kingship in Anglo-Saxon England, though in order to appreciate their true significance they must be placed in a wider context of East Saxon history. Other events from the East Saxon past are less well known, but the fact that East Saxon kings ruled part of Kent for at least six years and that their royal family was one of the few to survive until the ninth century are indications that the East Saxon province was one of the more significant minor kingdoms. Their relative neglect is due to the scarcity of written sources: no East Saxon chronicle has survived, and charters are few and often imperfectly recorded. Inevitably many areas of the East Saxon past must remain obscure, but the situation is not as bleak as it might first appear. East Saxon sources, although few, are varied, and illuminate different aspects of the kingdom's history. The evidence they contain is reviewed first, before more general conclusions are drawn about the East Saxon system of kingship and the relations of East Saxon kings with other kingdoms.

This article investigates the relationship of the Wilfrid and Cuthbert Lives, confirming that Bede re-presented the life of Cuthbert in response to Wilfridian criticism. It then examines why that was necessary c. 720, arguing that it fits not just with a probable episcopal interregnum at Lindisfarne after Eadfrith's death, as suggested by Kirby, but also with Acca's promotion of St Oswald and Heavenfield, which undercut Lindisfarne's cult of St Cuthbert and status as the mother church of Bernicia. At stake were both Lindisfarne's survival as an episcopal see and its distinctive type of monkbishops. These represented a different model of episcopacy, championed by Bede, from that espoused by the Wilfridians.