The following papers were presented, the first nine being on the theme of ‘England South of the Humber during the Seventh, Eighth and Ninth Centuries’:

H. R. Loyn, ‘What are the Issues?’

The nineteen-line Old English poem known as Wulf and Eadwacer has proved a notorious lodestone and analytical trap for critics; and still another interpretation of it may seem futile, if not presumptuous. Nevertheless, I believe no more firmly in my interpretation than others have believed in theirs: that is, I am no less confident that it will clear up most of the verbal and situational mysteries the poem presents; that it will enable us to see the lyric as structurally whole; that it will help us appreciate even more its aesthetic qualities; and that it will gain a critical consensus. To achieve such modest goals, I shall have to consider assumptions about the mind-set of the Anglo-Saxon audience as well as the poem's structure, diction, tone and imagery. It will thus be well to have the poem before us, and I venture a poetic translation which I shall comment on in due course.

The last works which Bede lists in the catalogue of writings at the end of the Historia Ecclesiastica are his grammatical treatises, and he groups them together, indicating a unity of genre or function:

Librum de ofthographia alphabeti ordine distinctum.

In 669 Theodore, a Greek-speaking monk originally from Tarsus in Asia Minor, arrived in England to take up his duties as archbishop of Canterbury. He was joined the following year by his colleague Hadrian, a Latin-speaking African by origin and former abbot of a monastery in Campania (near Naples). One of their first tasks at Canterbury was the establishment of a school; and according to Bede (writing some sixty years later), they soon ‘attracted a crowd of students into whose minds they daily poured the streams of wholesome learning’. Bede goes on to report, as evidence of their teaching, that some of their students who survived to his own day were as fluent in Greek and Latin as in their native language. Elsewhere he names some of these students: Tobias (later bishop of Rochester), Albinus (Hadrian's successor as abbot in Canterbury), Oftfor (later bishop of Worcester) and John of Beverley. Bede does not mention Aldhelm in this connection; but we know from a letter addressed by Aldhelm to Hadrian that he too must be numbered among their students. Unfortunately Aldhelm is the only one of these Canterbury alumni to have left any writings, so we are in no position to appraise the high opinion which Bede had formed of their learning.

A certain ‘Descidia Parisiace polis’, which can safely be identified with the work of Abbo of Saint-Germain-des-Prés now commonly known as the Bella Parisiacae Urbis, is listed among the books given by Æthelwold to the monastery of Peterborough. We shall never know if Æthelwold's gift corresponds to any of the surviving manuscripts of Abbo's poem – though probably it does not – but the inventory gives evidence of the popularity of his work in England. In the following pages I shall consider the genesis and successive fortune of Abbo's poem and provide a new assessment of the value of the Bella Parisiacae Urbis. This assessment is a necessary first step to the understanding of the reasons for the success of his poem – and specifically of its third book – in England, as is witnessed by the number of English manuscripts containing the Latin text and by the Old English gloss which was added to this small, intriguing work.

A considerable body of evidence shows that the kings of later Anglo-Saxon England concerned themselves very seriously with the cult of relics. No doubt this involvement arose in part from their piety; but as I hope to show there are grounds for thinking that it also derived from the importance of relics and relic-cults as instruments of royal policy, expressing and reinforcing the kings' power and position. I shall consider in turn three aspects of royal activity with regard to relics: firstly the collection and donation of relics by the kings in order to increase their prestige and to symbolize their political status; secondly the use of relics in the processes of government; and thirdly royal patronage of particular relic-cults as an expedient to political influence.

The problem to be discussed in this paper concerns the organization of those Viking armies which under the leadership of Swein Forkbeard and his son Cnut succeeded in conquering England in the second decade of the eleventh century: were the forces of these kings privately organized, like the ones operating in the ninth century, or were they state armies recruited on the basis of a public obligation on all free men to serve the king in war?

The primary purpose of this article is to draw attention to a little-known Anglo-Saxon manuscript of the early ninth century, now Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, lat. 10861, a collection of Latin saints' lives or passions. My interest was first drawn to this manuscript by the brief remarks of J. J. G. Alexander and J. E. Cross (the latter incorporating the personal communication of Bernhard Bischoff), both of whom associated the manuscript with the more famous Book of Cerne (Cambridge, University Library, Ll. 1.10) by virtue of its script and decoration. Closer examination of the manuscript reveals far more complex connections and implications. In particular, the script of BN lat. 10861, which incorporates several distinctive calligraphic features, relates it closely to a group of charters produced at Christ Church, Canterbury, and dated between c. 805 and c. 825. There have hitherto been few attempts to link Anglo-Saxon documentary and book hands, with the notable exceptions of the link between Oxford, Bodleian Library, Bodley 426 (Philippus, Expositio in Iob), which has been dated to the mid-ninth century on the basis of its association with two charters (London, British Library, Cotton Augustus ii. 37, dated 838, and Cotton Charter viii. 36, dated 847) thought to have been written in Wessex, probably at Sherborne or Winchester, and the association of London, BL, Royal 1. E. VI and BL, Add. Ch. 19789, a ninth-century forgery of a document dated 759, recently advanced by Mildred Budny. The establishment of such relationships offers potential for a firmer assessment of the date and place of origin of a particular manuscript than might otherwise be possible; it may also provide a valuable insight into the workings of the scriptorium in question. If, as I believe, a reasonably accurate dating may be advanced for BN lat. 10861 through its association with charter material, further chronological implications may arise, for the decoration of this manuscript places it firmly within the ‘Canterbury’ or ‘Tiberius’ group of manuscripts, and the dating of any one member of the group offers scope for the relative dating of others.

A modern field project in archaeology is a co-operative enterprise serving an extensive and diverse public. We can no longer afford to disturb the bones of our ancestors under the mantle of serendipity or academic intuition. The archaeologist, as the one person destined ever to see the evidence at first hand, strives for the virtue of enlightened impartiality, and sets off like an explorer, constrained by communal responsibilities and armed with a list of questions furnished by a wide variety of clients. Since Sutton Hoo has been hailed as the most vivid and instructive set of archaeological evidence for the seventh-century yet identified, Anglo-Saxon questions dominate this lengthy agenda. What was the status of the great ship burial discovered there in 1939? What was the role of the cemetery in which it lay? Why was it sited in that particular place, on a scarp above the River Deben in south-east Suffolk (see pi. V)? Was it the burial ground of kings, and were they kings of East Anglia? Was it a national centre or an overdeveloped version of the local mortuary culture? Is it diagnostic of a formative kingdom, or out of joint with the times, the outstation of a religious and political affiliation alien to the hinterland? What was its connection with Scandinavia and the Scandinavians? Were its people Anglo-Saxon, or Anglian or Saxon or British or multi-racial? Was it typical or unique?

In the definitive publication of the Sutton Hoo ship-burial, R. L. S. Bruce-Mitford comments that the figural scenes on the purse-lid may be thought to have had a special significance known to those who commissioned them and to those who saw the purse, because they appear as part of the design on an important item of the regalia. However, the meaning of the pair of plaques which show a bird of prey grasping a smaller bird (pl. VIIa) has not yet been satisfactorily analysed. Bruce-Mitford states that no close parallels to the scene can be cited. Haseloff, in a study of the purse plaques, considers that they show the general influence of Mediterranean representational art upon the Germanic tendency towards abstraction, with the bird pairs being the adoption and stylization of a foreign theme. Werner, in a discussion of Lombardic shield mounts, suggests that the Sutton Hoo birds represent Christian ornament and therefore associates the purse with the other supposedly Christian elements in the burial. But no really convincing background for the birds has been found. This is in contrast to the other figural plaques, the man between beasts and the interlacing quadrupeds, which both belong to groups of designs of more familiar type. It is the purpose of this article to provide some sources for the bird plaques and to attempt to interpret the special significance behind the use of this design on an item of the regalia.

The Metres of Boethius offer a unique opportunity to study the complex subject of Old English verse syntax. They enjoy this distinction because of the unusual way in which they were composed. The versifier did not work directly from the original Latin metra of Boethius's Consolation of Philosophy but from an Old English prose intermediary, freely translated from the Latin originals. King Alfred was the author of the prose translation and was probably also responsible for turning the parts of the prose corresponding to the Latin metra into Old English verse. Since a copy of the prose model survives, it affords us an opportunity to compare the two versions in order to judge the versifier's debt to the prose. He apparently followed it quite faithfully and without referring back to the Latin originals. In many verse passages one can find words and half-lines which are direct transcriptions from the prose. Consequently the Old English Metres are generally considered nothing more than prose expanded into verse, adding only ‘poetic’ embellishments (like repetition and variation) and obvious morals drawn from the passage. The fruit of the versifier's labours may be uninspired poetry, but the way that he rearranged the words of the prose offers a rare glimpse into the more elusive conventions of verse-making. Since the many similarities make the differences quite pronounced, the poetical shortcomings of the Metres may be a blessing. A mediocre versifier is more likely to compose mechanically and to imitate established patterns than a good poet, whose virtuosity often conceals the rudiments of his craft.

Gregory's Dialogues are a hitherto unnoticed source of the final chapter of the enlarged version of the Rule of Chrodegang of Metz. The chapter in question, no. 84 or 86 depending on the recension of the Latin text, is preserved in the following manuscripts (the letters in brackets are the sigla used for these manuscripts throughout this article):

Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, lat. 1535 (P), 113V–149V. Second quarter of the ninth century, possibly written at Fécamp. Latin text only, 86 chapters.

This bibliography is meant to include all books, articles and significant reviews published in any branch of Anglo–Saxon studies during 1985. It excludes reprints unless they contain new material. It will be continued annually. The year of publication of a book or article is 1985 unless otherwise stated.