When an anonymous letter is delivered to the Clarendon English Dictionary, it is rapidly clear that this is not the usual lexicographical enquiry. Instead, the letter hints at secrets and lies linked to a particular year.
For Martha Thornhill, the new senior editor, the date can mean only one thing: the summer her brilliant older sister Charlie went missing. After a decade abroad, Martha has returned home to the city whose ancient institutions have long defined her family. Have the ghosts she left behind her been waiting for her return?
When more letters arrive, and Martha and her team pull apart the complex clues within them, the mystery becomes ever more insistent and troubling. It seems Charlie had been keeping a powerful secret, and someone is trying to lead the lexicographers towards the truth. But other forces are no less desperate to keep it well and truly buried.
Guilty by Definition rises above other celebrity mysteries by being excellent.
This story is well-plotted and well-devised, delightfully intermingled with snippets about the Clarendon Dictionary and the little foibles of the English language, and has a great storyline. It also offers a lovely conjuring of Oxford and the surrounding location—as well as some special Oxford-specific events.
Our four main characters are well-developed, and all have their secrets as they endeavour to solve the perplexing riddles and, in doing so, answer the questions surrounding Martha’s sister’s disappearance.
It is a complex mystery that is sure to appeal to fans of the genre and the English language. I don’t want to give any spoilers, but I loved it:)
I’m delighted to welcome Jennifer Ivy Walker and her new book, The Witch of the Brenton Woods, to the blog with the historical aspect of The Witch of the Brenton Woods.
Historical Aspect of The Witch of the Brenton Woods
I wanted the hero of my story to be an American paratrooper dropped into Normandy for the D-Day landings on June 6, 1944, so I researched many of the different divisions of American servicemen during World War II. I selected the 507th PIR (Parachute Infantry Regiment), which was part of the 82nd Airborne Division, whose D-Day objective known as Mission Boston was to secure the Merderet River crossing in Normandy.
As I developed the historical fiction aspects of The Witch of the Breton Woods, I decided to have my fictional character, First Lieutenant Richard Zachford, be forced to make an emergency jump when his plane was shot down by German 88mm flak antiaircraft artillery guns. It was rewarding and challenging to weave together fictious characters who were part of the real 507th PI and weave them into the Battle of Saint-Malo, the culminating point of my novel.
I did extensive research about the Battle of Saint-Malo, a city in Bretagne (Brittany) that I had visited twice before as a high school French teacher taking my students on trips to France. When I discovered that a major focus of World War II had been The Battle of Brittany, I wove my fictional characters into the historical events which actually took place in the Battle of Saint-Malo, one of the crucial seaports that the Nazis controlled, which was deemed essential for the Allies to recapture.
Saint-Malo was one of the French towns designated as a fortress under Hitler’s Atlantic Wall program, and the Allies intended to capture the town so that its port could be used to land supplies and naval reinforcement. However, the Germans had covered the medieval castle into an underground fortress that was nearly impenetrable. When the Allies did successfully retake Saint-Malo, it had been so heavily damaged that it had been rendered unusable, and the courageous Malouins (the French name for the local inhabitants of Saint-Malo) slowly rebuilt their beloved city.
In writing The Witch of the Breton Woods, I wove together the events leading up to the surrender of the German Colonel Von Aulock (known as the Mad Colonel) on the 17th of August, 1944 and the surrender of the nearby German garrison of Cézembre on September 2nd. It was very challenging to entwine the plot development of my novel with the actual events which occurred between the D-Day landing of June 6th and the surrender of the Germans at Saint-Malo on September 2nd, 1944. I am very proud to have interwoven compelling historical fiction and thrilling romantic suspense in The Witch of the Breton Woods.
Blurb
Traumatized by horrors witnessed during the Nazi invasion of France, a young woman retreats to the dense Breton woods where she becomes a member of the clandestine French Resistance. When she finds a critically injured American paratrooper whose plane was shot down, she shelters the wounded soldier in her secluded cottage, determined to heal him despite the enormous risk.
Ostracized by villagers who have labeled her a witch, she is betrayed by an informant who reports to the Butcher—the monstrous leader of the local paramilitary organization that collaborates with the Germans. As the enemy closes in, she must elude the Gestapo while helping the Resistance reunite the American with his regiment and join the Allied Forces in the Battle of Brittany.
Can true love triumph against all odds under the oppressive Third Reich?
Jennifer Ivy Walker has an MA in French literature and is a former high school teacher and professor of French at a state college in Florida. Her novels encompass a love for French language, literature, history, and culture, incorporating her lifelong study, summers abroad, and many trips to France.
The Witch of the Breton Woods is heart-pounding suspense set during WWII in Nazi-occupied France, where a young woman in the French Resistance shelters and heals a wounded American soldier, hiding him from the Gestapo and the monstrous Butcher who are relentlessly hunting him.
I’m delighted to welcome Jennifer M. Lane and her new book, Downriver from The Poison River Series, to the blog with a guest post.
Guest Post
On the surface, Downriver, the first book in the Poison River series, is an extension of my lifelong interest in coming-of-age tales, where men and women unlock a part of themselves that allows them to move into a new phase of life. Though I believe we can “come of age” at many points, Charlotte and her friends are teenagers at the start of the series, fighting a battle much more formidable than their years.
The story is fictional, but the places are real, and the foundation on which the plot sits is based in the history of Pennsylvania’s anthracite coal country.
The world Charlotte and her brother, Emmett, come from is tainted by the conflict between coal bosses and mine workers. It’s a history of rich versus poor, of immigrants with fewer protections being abused by a coordinated system of oppression.
Mine workers in this region in the nineteenth century were largely Irish immigrants, many of whom fled the potato famine and the corporatization of their food supply. As they fought back in Ireland and England, emigrees formed a group known as the Molly Maguires, coordinating increasingly violent uprisings against farmers who locked them out of land they once farmed and merchants who raised the rates on foods.
The Strike in The Coal Mines. Credit: Public Domain (prior to 1929)
In the United States, as Irish workers settled in anthracite country and took on mine work, they soon found themselves financially shackled to their new employer. Housing was taken from their pay along with fees for the town doctor. Their remaining income was paid in scrips—company coin that could only be spent in the overpriced company store. Their income rarely exceeded their bills. And the more they pushed for better conditions, the more the coal bosses fought back. Eventually, things turned violent.
No paper trail links the 1860s and 1870s violence and murders of coal bosses to a coordinated Molly Maguires group, but once slung, the moniker stuck. As the chasm between the miners and coal bosses widened, Frank Gowen convinced the State of Pennsylvania to allow the coal patch towns to hire their own private police force to combat the Mollies. The Coal and Iron Police was formed, then returned the miner’s fire.
Frank Gowen. Credit: Public Domain (prior to 1929)
This is the world of my fictional Frank Morris, Charlotte and Emmett’s father. The fictional man was a more public figure than the man who inspired him. Frank Morris wrote speeches that sparked an uprising before losing his life to poisoning. The real Jack Kehoe was hanged, accused of working quietly, leading a group of men who used violence and murder to punish coal bosses and intimidate their opposition.
Jack Kehoe. Credit: Public Domain (prior to 1929)
In retaliation, Frank Gowen hired a Philadelphia detective (Allan Pinkerton) to plant a spy within his worker’s ranks. That spy found himself regretfully entangled in violence he was accused of instigating before testifying against the miners in a case that was prosecuted by Gowen himself. The gross miscarriage of justice is considered one of the bleakest eras of the American justice system.
Readers will encounter more of this rich history in subsequent books in the series. Set a mere quarter century after twenty men were sentenced to hang for their role as Molly Maguires, Downriver draws largely on these political and worker tensions as background. The battle Charlotte and her friends wage is against a pollution that poisons the air and the water, sickening people in her hometown of Stoke and poisoning the fish in the Maryland foster village on the Chesapeake Bay.
Eckley Miner’s Village. Credit: CC BY-SA
As she battles her father’s coal boss from afar, Charlotte teams up with suffragists, her high school literary society, and a handsome young man who lost family to the poison, too.
Though the era of the American Revolution is my favorite, writing Downriver has given me a chance to merge the historical settings of my Chesapeake Bay hometown and my partner’s in the Poconos outside Eckley Miner’s Village. Visitors to their museum can enjoy the history and structures such as houses and the coal breaker that was constructed for the 1970s film The Molly Maguires.
Blurb
A sulfur sky poisoned her family and her heart. Now revenge tastes sweeter than justice.
It’s 1900. In a Pennsylvania coal town tainted by corruption and pollution, Charlotte’s world collapses when her parents meet a tragic end. Sent to a foster family in a Maryland fishing village, she’s fueled by grief and embarks on a relentless quest for justice against the ruthless coal boss, Nels Pritchard.
But Charlotte is no ordinary girl. She shares the fiery spirit of her father, whose powerful speeches inspired worker riots. With a burning desire for vengeance, she sets out to uncover the truth behind Pritchard’s crimes, unearthing a shocking connection between the town’s toxic air and the lifeless fish washing up on the shore of her Chesapeake Bay foster town.
To expose the truth, Charlotte builds a network of unexpected allies. There are gutsy suffragists, a literary society of teenage girls willing to print the truth… and Weylan. The captivating young man lost his own family to Pritchard’s poison. He offers support, but Charlotte questions his true motives when he lures her to break the law. Could she be falling into a dangerous trap, leading her to a fate worse than poison?
With her unwavering spirit and determination, Charlotte must forge alliances and navigate a web of treachery before Pritchard seeks his own ruthless revenge.
The newest book by award-winning author Jennifer M. Lane is perfect for fans of Jeannette Walls’ Hang the Moon and the fiery protagonist in The Hunger Games. Join Charlotte in this small town, coming-of-age dystopian historical saga as she finds resilience, courage, and triumph in her search for identity, independence, and her true home.
This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited
Meet the Author
A Maryland native and Pennsylvanian at heart, Jennifer M. Lane holds a bachelor’s degree in philosophy from Barton College and a master’s in liberal arts with a focus on museum studies from the University of Delaware, where she wrote her thesis on the material culture of roadside memorials.
Jennifer is a member of the Authors Guild and the Historical Novel Society. Her first book, Of Metal and Earth, won the 2019 Next Generation Indie Book Award for First Novel and was a Finalist in the 2018 IAN Book of the Year Awards in the category of Literary / General Fiction. She is also the author of Stick Figures from Rockport, and the six book series, The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt.
Now we’ve reached the end, it’s time to go back to the beginning
If you’ve not yet had enough of the characters from The Brunanburh Series, then I have good news for you. I wrote a prequel short story from Athelstan’s point of view, and you can download it for free following this link below. You do have to give your email details and sign up for my Boldwood Books newsletters, but they are not at all aggressive with their marketing (I know – I follow myself to make sure) and you will hear from them only about new releases and book related news. And you get a free prequel short story via Bookfunnel. What’s not to love:)
Being a book reviewer is really hard work. I know because I do it myself. And so, I want to give a huge thank you to the book reviewers and bloggers who have helped launched Kings of Conflict throughout the last week, and to Rachel who organises them. (And also to my personal Street Team who are fabulous and so committed.) Everyone thinks that book reviewing must be great because you get to read books before everyone else, (and they’re free) but that overlooks the time and energy it takes to read and review every book and then make them look fancy on the internet. It can be very hard to juggle deadlines and then sometimes, you just don’t gell with a book/character and so, it’s not all free books and leisurely afternoons reading with a coffee (or beverage of choice). It can feel quite pressured. There is an overwhelming urge to want to help an author do really well with every new release. So, a huge thank you to these wonderful people, many of whom I have come to know really well, and I am so grateful to them. (You can check out the highlights from their reviews below – and you can also find the full reviews by typing their names in your search engine).
Then pick up the free prequel story, and you can read book 1, King of Kings, free with Prime Reading and it’s also in Kindle Unlimited. The first chapter recreates King Athelstan’s coronation ceremony, and then the politics and chaos descends. Enjoy.
In Regency England, twenty-seven-year-old Leonora Appleby is considered by many – herself included – to be beyond her most eligible marrying years. With her childhood home, Hasterleigh Manor, soon to be taken over by the heir to the land, George Lockwood, Leonora has happily resigned herself to a quiet life as a country Miss.
But life has a way of springing surprises and the return of the brooding war hero Earl Rokeby, presumed dead on the French battlefields, to the magnificent neighbouring Rokeby Abbey has the village atwitter with speculation. Earl Rokeby has returned, scarred in mind and body, with news for Leonora’s best friend Charlotte Blythe – news that will change everything.
Now Charlotte and Leonora must travel to Town for the Season and take their futures and fate into their own hands in the whirl of balls, parties and gossip. But will either of them return to Hasterleigh with a husband and a fortune, and what other secrets does the devastatingly dashing Alistair Rokeby have up his silken sleeves…
Sunday Times bestselling author Jane Dunn brings the Regency period irresistibly to life. Perfect for fans of Jane Austen, Janice Hadlow, Gill Hornby, and anyone with a Bridgerton-shaped hole in their lives.
I’ve read all of Jane Dunn’s Regency romances to date, and they are all fabulous. A Lady’s Fortune is a delightful addition to her books.
Our two main characters, Leonora and Charlotte, are refreshing in their outlook on life. Leonora is happy with her rural existence, while Charlotte expects little because the nature of her birth is a mystery. Both women flourish outside the constraints of the expectation of a London season, but are to be plunged into it, eventually, for much of this book takes place in their rural idyll, where our author is able to draw on her love of gardening and the outdoors (I follow her on X) to enrich the storyline – and this is coming from someone who can just about name a daffodil or a rose.
What I loved about this book is that we, the reader, really do know much of what will happen, but it unfolds in the delightful and charming way that Regency romances should – I read the last 30% in one sitting, unable to put it down.
Leonora, Charlotte, Earl Rokesby and George Lockwood will surely delight readers of the genre. 5 stars from me.
Meet the author
Jane Dunn is an historian and biographer and the author of seven acclaimed biographies, including Daphne du Maurier and her Sisters and the Sunday Times and NYT bestseller, Elizabeth & Mary: Cousins, Rivals, Queens. She lives in Berkshire with her husband, the linguist Nicholas Ostler.
I’m delighted to welcome Constance Briones and her new book, Try Before You Trust: To All GentleWomen and Other Maids in Love, to the blog with an excerpt.
Excerpt
A sorrowful expression crossed his face. “When I said I loved you, I meant it. I have loved you like no other woman I’ve known,” he uttered with a hint of resentment that I doubted his love for me.
I believed him, but how he could bury his love for me to procure a more comfortable married life with Rose Clavell was unfathomable.
I let go of his arm and opened the door. “Aye, you loved me, Robert. But not enough to weather the tribulations of love.”
He averted his gaze and hesitated before leaving. It was as if he wanted to say more in self-defense, but it would have fallen on deaf ears. He walked briskly past me and down the stairs. When I heard the central door shut, I slumped to the floor. I could feel angry tears in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Like the women in Heroides, I, too, had fallen victim to my passion and was forsaken by a man I loved too fast and too soon. But unlike them, I would not break.
Blurb
What if Taylor Swift found herself penning songs about love in Elizabethan England when women were required to be chaste, obedient, and silent?
Isabella Whitney, an ambitious and daring eighteen-year-old maidservant turned poet, sets out to do just that. Having risked reputation and virtue by allowing her passions for her employer’s aristocratic nephew to get the better of her, Isabella Whitney enters the fray of the pamphlet wars, a scurrilous debate on the merits of women.
She’s determined to make her mark by becoming the first woman to write a poem defending women in love, highlighting the deceptive practices of the men who woo them. Her journey to publication is fraught with challenges as she navigates through the male-dominated literary world and the harsh realities of life in sixteenth-century London for a single woman.
Loosely based on the life of Elizabethan poet Isabella Whitney, this is a compelling tale of a young woman’s resilience and determination to challenge the status quo and leave her mark in a world that was not ready for her.
Constance Briones has a Master’s in Woman’s History, which informs her writing.
She first learned about the subject of her debut historical fiction novel, the sixteenth-century English poet Isabella Whitney, while doing research for her thesis on literacy and women in Tudor England. Isabella Whitney’s gusty personality to defy the conventions of her day, both in her thinking and actions, impressed Constance enough to imagine that she would make a very engaging literary heroine.
As a writer, Constance is interested in highlighting the little-known stories of women in history. She is a contributing writer to Historical Times, an online magazine. When not writing, she lends her time as an educational docent for her town’s historical society.
She contently lives in Connecticut with her husband and Maine coon sibling cats, Thor and Percy.
Looking at many of my photos of historical locations I’ve visited, it’s beginning to look as though I never have any luck with the weather. My visit to Dumbarton Castle occured on a very chilly February day a few years ago.
The view from the summit of Dumbarton Castle
That said, the moody nature of these photos helped me to perfectly describe some of the events that take place at Dumbarton in the Brunanburh Series, the final book of which is now available. And no matter the weather, the view is stunning.
Where’s Uhtred of Bebbanburg in The Brunanburh Series?
Uhtred of Bebbanburg is perhaps our most famous character from Saxon England, even if he is a fictional creation. Not only does he have his own TV series alongside the books, but his very strong association with Bebbanburg/Bamburgh (somewhere I’m lucky to live very close to hence the photo in January below, and have been visiting since I was a small child), means that he feels very ‘real’ to many readers and audiences, and indeed, encourages thousands of people to Northumberland every year to visit Bamburgh, of which even the earliest standing buildings date to just after the Norman Conquest of 1066. (Bamburgh has a very active group investigating the archaeology (The Bamburgh Research Project with whom I attended a post-excavation week in September 2023)). He has become somewhat like the Arthur of the Arthurian Legends – more real than many historical attested individuals.
Bamburgh Castle on a chilly January day in 2024
So, where is Uhtred of Bebbanburg in my Brunanburh Series?
This is a tough one because I can’t find ‘Uhtred of Bebbanburg’ in any of the sources I’ve consulted (not that there are many). Indeed, affairs at Bamburgh at this time are so little understood, that we don’t even definitely know the names of some of the individuals who may have ‘ruled’ there, and even what the extent of their powers might have been for Bamburgh was sandwiched between the might of a growing kingdom of the Scots, and the kingdom of Norse Jorvik or English York (depending on who claimed it).
Ealdorman Uhtred
There is an ealdorman of King Athelstan who’s named Uhtred (there’s actually two, but I’m focusing on the main one here, named as a ‘dux’ or ealdorman), appearing in the surviving charter evidence from 931 to 935 (he witnesses or attests 8 of King Athelstan’s surviving charters) including the charter when Athelstan gifts a great deal of land to Archbishop Wulfstan of York in 934 on his way to ‘invade’ the kingdom of the Scots, but aside from that, he doesn’t appear in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle at this time, and indeed, doesn’t seem to be associated with Bamburgh at all.
Who was ruling Bamburgh then?
Indeed, at this time, we have two men who seem to have ‘ruled’ in Bamburgh, one Eadwulf/Ealdwulf is attested, in the Annals of Ulster naming him as ‘king of the Saxons of the north.’ He died in c.913. His son, Ealdred/Eadred (there is confusion with the correct name) joined an alliance with Edward the Elder, king of the Anglo-Saxons, in 920 (corrected from 924).
‘And then the king of Scots and all the nation of Scots chose him as father and lord; and [so also did] Reginald and Eadwulf’s son and all those who live in Northumbria, both English and Danish and Norwegians and others; and also the king of the Strathclyde Britons and all the Strathclyde Britons.’ (Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000 p.104 (A text 924 for 920)
As well as the one with King Athelstan in 927,
‘King Athelstan succeeded to the the kingdom of Northumrbia; and he governed all the kings who were in this island; first Hywel, king of the West Welsh, and Constantine, king of Scots, and Owain, king of Gwent, and Ealdred, Ealdwulf’s offspring, from Bamburgh. And they confirmed peace with pledges and with oaths in a place which is named Rivers’ Meeting on 12th July;…’ (Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000 p.107 (D text for 926 )
Ealdred seems to hold his position until 934 when his death may be recorded in the Annals of Clonmacnoise. His death could have precipitated Athelstan’s decision to invade the kingdom of the Scots if perhaps Constantin of the Scots was ‘meddling’ with the Saxon enclave, perhaps hoping to claim it himself, which ultimately led to the battle of Brunanburh in 937 between Constantin, Athelstan and Olaf Gothfrithson.
What happened in Bamburgh after the death of Ealdred is very hazy. I’ve made some leaps of faith, largely influenced by academic scholars of the period, in Kings of Conflict, and my imagination, but alas, it did not allow me to find our missing ‘Uhtred’ of Bebbanburg, and while in initial drafts, I did ‘allow’ Ealdorman Uhtred some interest in Bamburgh, I removed these because it just didn’t fit with the information I could find.
Kings of Conflict, the last part of the Brunanburh series, is available now.
In 2014, I had the ‘amazing’ idea to write a novel about the events that led to the famous battle of Brunanburh in 937 – the greatest battle on British soil that few people have ever heard about (Or certainly hadn’t heard about back then – who knew Uhtred of Bebbanburg would be taking part in it).
My reasons were two-fold. I’d just read Sarah Foot’s monograph on Athelstan, and the UK was in the grip of a vote for Scottish Independence. It made me consider the union of the kingdoms of Wales, Scotland, England and Northern Ireland and the history behind it. But, it also stemmed from my own frustration with the way we’re taught history in the UK. ‘United’ it might say but if you go to school in England, Scotland, Wales or Northern Ireland you will be taught the ‘history’ of those kingdoms (and only those kingdoms)- that was when I was a kid, and I think it’s still true – very little ‘joined up’ thinking, and this is something that continues to cause problems today, and not just in the UK, but everywhere. Country-specific agendas fall down when looking at periods before these kingdoms actually existed – and the desire to see the ‘march’ towards unity as simple also misses the naunces.
In the first book in what became the Brunanburh Series, I wanted to examine these kingdoms – to unpick the seeming ‘inevitability’ of it all – and it massively helped that despite what might come before, and after, and as little as it may seem – we do know a surprising amount about the kings who fought at Brunanburh. What we don’t know (although the Wirral is now almost ‘accepted’ as the correct location) is where Brunanburh took place, and what actually led to it. It was time for me to get writing.
1100th Anniversary of Athelstan becoming king of Mercia
2024 marks the 1100th anniversary of King Athelstan becoming king of Mercia (although his coronation as king of the English took place in 925 – so a year later (read my post about this period here). While he has been often overlooked between the alleged ‘greatness’ of King Alfred (871-899), and the alleged ‘failure’ of King Æthelred II (978-1033/1013-1016), Alfred’s great great grandson, more and more historical investigation is being undertaken on Athelstan, and indeed, his half-brother, Edmund, who is one of the other characters in the series. (It might also have helped that Athelstan features in Bernard Cornwell’s The Last Kingdom series). A spotlight is being shone on all Athelstan accomplished, and the move is also encompassing Edmund, (as well as Eadred, and Eadwig – these three often overlooked).
Non-fiction books to read
And this investigation is also looking at events in what would be Scotland, Ireland and Wales, as well as the Norse kings of Jorvik. The approach I’ve taken, is one that historians are examining – Alex Woolf’s From Pictland to Alba and Claire Downham’s Viking Kings of Britain and Ireland (they did it before me – but their books have helped me massively), as well as Max Adams’ Ælfred’s Britain which focused on much more than just Alfred.
My conclusions from writing about this period?
What then can I say after four books considering this period? Quite simply, nothing is as easy to explain or account for as might be hoped. The sources that have survived come with so many explanations about translation (they are not written in English – and indeed we have Old English, Latin, Old Irish, Old Welsh etc) bias, survival, manipulation, and corroboration (one source is often used to corroborate another) that sometimes it feels easier to hold my hands up and say ‘who knows?’
Attempts to draw together a cohesive narrative are constantly thwarted. One historian may argue for one thing, another for another. Every person who studies the period will have their own levels of ‘acceptable’ when looking at the sources. I am always wary of Saints Lives – they were not intended, and can not be, accepted as historical ‘fact’ but they do tell us a lot about reputation – another interesting facet to consider. The Icelandic Sagas must also come with a host of caveats. I also have to rely on translations and therefore remove myself from the original intention of the scribe once more.
The joy of this period is in the nuances that can be exploited – it is also where most people are likely to argue. And indeed, readers may fail to comprehend these nuances – hence the ‘it’s too predicatable’ complaint- I imagine all of ‘my’ kings would have welcomed the preditability of knowing the eventual outcome.
Trying to explain concepts such as ‘this is the first king of the English,’ ‘Hywel’s a king of all the Welsh’ falter because my audience expect these places to be united and under one king – but alas, were rarely that. The other England-specific failure to teach history before ‘1066’ also adds to these problems. The Saxon period is deemed as ‘weird,’ (the names, oh the names). There is so much going on, that even I have fallen down and made mistakes, and only with a sort of ‘doh’ moment made the connection between the name Brunanburh and the element of most interest ‘burh.’ (Thank you Bernard Cornwell for that moment of understanding – I still feel very, very stupid about it – not his fault).
Team Norse, Team England, Team Wales or Team Scots?
To tell a story such as this involves standing on the shoulders of giants. I am indebted to them – and sometimes, a bit narked that they won’t give me any definites either – what I will say is this – I understand a lot more now. I hope others do as well. And whether you’re Team England, Team Norse, Team land of the Scots, or Team what would be Wales, I hope you enjoyed meeting these long-dead men and women and realising that they were just as shifty, ambitious and perhaps, blood-thirsty, as people are today. I really can’t ask for more than that, other than you read the non-fiction for the period as well, and hopefully, enjoy it.
When I first wrote Kings of Conflict, I had very little idea what Jorvik at the time (the 930s/940s) might have looked like. I wrote an entire battle scene and then realised some of my assumptions were very, very wrong (I do this all the time. Don’t feel sorry for me. I should just do the research first instead of giving free rein to my imagination.) I got the fact the settlement was split in two by the River Ouse wrong (and who knew about the Foss). But, most tellingly, what I failed to understand was the true nature of York, from its Roman origins as Eboracum to the age of Jorvik, and most importantly by that I mean its Roman walls and what might, or might not have still been standing at this period.
We don’t (yet) have time machines. We can’t visit York in the 940s, but if there is one thing York is famous for it’s the archaeology, and the Jorvik Viking Centre, which offers a recreation of what those streets on Coppergate might once have looked like, and also much else. And because Jorvik/York has benefitted from so much archaeological work, there are also a series of maps showing York at various times in its lifetime, alas out of print at this time, but which can be accessed via a good library (my thanks to the Great Northern Library at the Hancock museum in Newcastle – if you want to see it then let them know so they can have it ready for you, and make note of their opening hours) or the amalgamation of this work available in An Historical Map of York, available from all good book sellers. And if not, then my favourite ‘go-to’ for recreating this time period, the antiquarian maps by John Speed (which are also much prettier) can also offer some information.
York, from John Speed’s West Riding of Yorkshire map (own photo)
This is readily available and amalgamates the information from the actual Atlas.This is currently out of print – check out your local library or antiquarian library for a copy
Roman York
The British Historic Towns Atlas Volume V, York ed. Peter Addyman provides the following information about Eboracum-Roman York.
York’s surviving walls, not far from MicklegateI planned to take many more photos but my phone went flat and it was a suitably biblically wet day in York – which seems to happen every time I visit:)
It might have been occupied under Vettius Bolanus (69-71) but was truly founded under Emperor Vespasian (69-79). However, the ridge of the River Ouse was a routeway from the Neolithic onwards. This was in the territory of the Brigantes although the East Riding of Yorkshire was that of the Parisi. It is possible that Eboracum means ‘the place of the yew trees.’
The stone used in constructing the fortress was Magnesian Limestone from Tadcaster and Millstone Grit from Bramham Park (I love that they know this). To begin with the fortress had a ditch, rampart and timber structures and four gates, with the original towers up to 15 metres high. And here, there is the suggestion that to begin with, crossing the River Ouse (to get to the civilian settlement) was via ferry. The bridge can only be confirmed from the second century onwards. The Foss River was also tidal at this time and the banks sloped sharply. The rampart was widened from 20feet to about 42 feet during a second phase of occupation.
Some ‘old’ bits of Roman York (I think), from the museum in York Minster
The end of Roman York is impossible to pinpoint. Did it cease to exist? Certainly, the last documentary reference was in 314 when York’s bishop, Eborus, attended the Council of Arles, but as with so many of these Roman settlements in Britannia, what happened afterwards is more difficult to determine and we must turn to archaeology and not written records.
I think this is from the exhibition at Micklegate Bar but I could be wrong. It very clearly shows the two ‘halves’ of the walls.
I must admit, all of this information about Roman York makes me somewhat desperate to write a book about it:) (Don’t all groan).
Anglian York – Eoforwic
The creators of this series of maps make the point that this is the most speculative of the series. Put simply, they really don’t know what was happening.
What can be said is that the walls were renovated on the north west side of the fortress with a dry stone wall and cobbled sentry walk while the eastern ramparts were topped with a timble palisade wider than the Roman wall (if I’ve understood that correctly).
Eoforwic first enters the historical record as the place of baptism for Edwin in 627, the king of Northumbria (Deira and Bernicia combined).
‘…the king was baptised at Easter with all his chief men; that Easter was on 12 April. This was done in York, where earlier he had ordered a church to be built of wood.’ ASC E 626 p.25
The archbishopric began from 735, but Eoforwic was not densely settled at this period, although it does seem to have had many, many churches. This includes the Minster, St Michael-Le-Belfrey, Holy Trinity, St Peter the Little, St Martin, St Michael, and many more, all probably founded by 850.
Map of Britain in the tenth century, showing York (map design by Flintlock Covers).
Viking York – Jorvik
It’s record that the first attack Viking attack on York occured on 1st November 866. The Northumbrians counter-attacked in 867 but this left York under Viking control.
‘Here the raiding-army went from East Anglia over the mouth of the Humber to York city in Northumbria;’ ASC A 867 corrected to 866 p.68 (from my preferred edition edited by Michael Swanton).
And here is where my notes become a little muddled between time periods. The British Historic Towns Atlas Volume V informs that the River Ouse at the time would have been tidal, and much wider than it is now and also with much steeper banks .
The late-eighth-century scholar Alcuin describes York as having high walls and lofty towers (he spent time in York). Asser (Alfred’s late-tenth-century biographer – although I’m curious as to how he’d know as I’m sure he was from one of the Welsh kingdoms and York was not under Alfred’s control) suggests that York’s walls were insecure and there is a suggestion that the Vikings restored the walls. Considering what we know about Asser and his ability to be less than honest, we might suspect this statement. Certainly, the remains of the walls were visible but whether they were defensible is unknown.
The walls survive to this day. To paraphrase from the Atlas, from the western corner of the Roman fortress to fifty metres along its south-west front, parallel to the river, the Roman wall is still visible above ground. Beyond this point, its six projecting interval towers and the Roman south/west gateway leading to the bridge over the Ouse have either been demolished to foundation level or been covered by organic-rich debris of post-Conquest date. The fortress’s south corner tower at Freasgate survives to fifteen foot. It is suggested that the south-west section of the civilian settlement might not have been included in the walled defences.
On the northern banks of the River Ouse, there were plots about 5.5m wide occupied by one or more structures (Coppergate/Ousegate/Pavement) with backyards running downslope towards the River Foss. Hungate also had similar plots. There might have been crossings over the rivers below St Mary Castlegate and Hungate. These rectangular structures of post and wattle had entrances front and back, with centrally arranged hearths and roofs made of turf, reeds or straw. Most settlement was below Coppergate, Ousegate, Pavement, Hungate and Walmgate areas.
Recreating Jorvik?
But what does all this mean when trying to recreate the time period? (Some will know that I’ve already ‘visited’ York earlier in the Brunanburh series, and without all this angst). It is frustrating that some aspects are so clearly defined and others aren’t. Where were the people living – especially the high status people? Where were the kings living? In King’s Square/Kuningesgard? And what’s this about the civilian defences never being completed to the south?
My overwhelming impression is that the remains of the actual Roman encampment (to the north of the Ouse) were in better condition than those to the south of the Ouse surrounding the civilian settlement (there are ‘proper’ terms for this – I’m not using them). But, these remains of the Roman wall at the fort seem to have largely been surrounding the religious centre under the control of the Archbishop of York, Wulfstan I. Were they any use to those in control of Jorvik? And what about the rivers? How navigable were they? Could they be easily blocked? How tidal is tidal? Did it raise and lower the water level by metres or centimetres?
Was there even a bridge over the River Ouse or did they need to use a boat to get across? Perhaps there was only one bridge over the Ouse, and only one over the River Foss.
Having this information to hand and making sense of it are two very different things. How would someone have gone about attacking York? Would they have taken ships, come on foot or tried to steal their way inside through the never completed walls? Who would have protected it? What would our erstwhile holy man, Archbishop Wulfstan have done? If the walls were standing, how many warriors would have needed to protect it?
You’ll have to read Conflict of Kings to see just what I did, and you can from 6th August 2024:)
MJ Porter 