Saga of Ealdor and Wulfstan: The Mead of Might

Hear now a short song, a truth-telling tale, of two Thanes in the hall, and the choice that did prevail.

In the strong mead-hall of King Æthelred, by the shore of the churning sea, dwelt two mighty Thanes, Ealdor the Bold and Wulfstan the Keen. Both held lands, both guarded kine, and both sought the favour of the Ring-Giver.

Ealdor saw the world as a Fixed Feast. "The King's gold is limited," he boasted, "and if Wulfstan's hoard grows heavy, then mine must lighten. We hunt the same deer; we share not the spoils!" Thus, Ealdor hoarded his grain, paid his fyrdwith grudging hand, and when the spring thaw came, he steered his ships not for trade, but to raid the smaller farms of Wulfstan's tenants, taking by force what he believed was rightfully his portion.

Wulfstan, however, spoke a different wisdom. He said, "The earth is great, and our strength is for making, not merely taking. If my neighbour's grain grows tall, our whole shire is less hungry. If his axe-blade is sharp, our comitatus is stronger." Wulfstan saw the world as a Growing Grove.

When the Norse longships, dragon-prowed and fell, came to land, Ealdor's men were thin and ill-equipped. They were weary from fighting their own neighbours, and their shields were chipped from petty raids. Ealdor held his few spears close, saying, "Let Wulfstan spend his strength; what he loses is my gain in the King's eye."

But Wulfstan had taught his men Shared Strength. He had traded his surplus iron for the tools of Ealdor’s smiths, making a better-tempered steel for all. He had paid good silver for the weaving skills of Ealdor's wives, clothing all his warriors in thick wool. When the Vikings landed, Wulfstan's host, well-fed and well-armed with gear of mutual making, met them with a roar.

Ealdor saw Wulfstan’s thriving fyrd fighting fiercely. His own few, fearing their lord's harsh greed more than the enemy's axe, wavered. Then, seeing Wulfstan's strength hold the line, Ealdor at last saw the truth: a full shield-wall benefits allstanding behind it. Shame overcame his self-interest. He cast his small spear-band into the fray, fighting for the life of the whole, not the slice of a small pie.

The invaders were repelled, though the cost in blood was dear.

When King Æthelred praised them both, he gave Wulfstan the largest ring, saying, "Your gain was the gain of all, and your hoard has made our land safe." To Ealdor he gave a sword, but sternly spoke: "Your hand held the blade, Thane, but your mind was an enemy to your kin. Learn this, son of the Saxons: The world is not a full cup from which one man's drink must lessen another’s. Together, we dig the well that feeds all our mouths."

Ealdor bowed low, his spirit humbled. From that day, he traded his fears for foresight, and the two Thanes joined their strength, making the shire a beacon of plenty, its fame sung by all the Skalds. Thus ends the Lay of the Mead-Hall's Might.

U3A History Group

Fri 27 Jan 26 2-4pm

Bersted Jubilee Hall

Anglo Saxon Bucgan’ora

by John Parsons

A short story about the Anglo Saxon origins of Bognor Regis

followed by Q&A’s

and discussion on the relevance of Anglo Saxon culture today

Did You Know?

Bognor derives it’s name from Bucgan’ora,

after Bucge (the original Bognorian)

and the beech tree -

the same origin as the word book (bēce“ or “bōc” in Auld Englisċ).

The beech tree (The Mother of the Forast) carries symbolic weight in relation to both trust, resilience and learning in various cultures and historical contexts.

📙

Ƿes Hāl, 

mīn nama is Iohannes, 

and mē līcaþ swīðe 

tō wesan hēr.

Se hwīsl þæs windes

• Anglo Saxon Culture

• Wisdom

Hark, for I shall speak words of ancient wisdom.

A foul wyrm of thought has slithered into our minds and now reigns over our days. It is a thing unseen, so woven into our world that it feels as true as the turning of the seasons, yet it is born of malice. This is the great sickness of our age: a dark creed of self-interest that whispers we are but lonely wolves, meant only to fight, to take, and to hold. This tale was told to us by the great lords of the land, and it is sung in every hall and every hearth through the word-weavers they command.

This poisoned song has led us to the edge of ruin. Our streams gasp for breath, the sky's humors turn strange and hot, and the bonds between kinsmen fray and break. While a handful of men possess gold beyond all counting, the rest of us are left to gnaw on bones, all the while told it is our own fault. It is a world where a man's cry of woe is met with a sword, and the upright man is called a traitor, for a world of unjust wealth must, by its very nature, be a world of fear and chains.

The true heroes of this saga are not the word-spinners who serve this dying creed, nor the great-men who grow fat on our division. The heroes are us. The countless folk who still hold a quiet, but strong, sense of kinship, of common purpose, and of shared joy. We are the ones who know, in our bones, that our deepest calling is not to compete, but to belong. We are the ones who understand that the health of the earth is as one with the health of our kin.

Our uprising must begin with a new tale. We must cease to argue over dusty scrolls of numbers and begin to fight for what is truly human. We must champion laws because they are born of kindness and of fellowship. We must unmask the old tale for the cold, cruel lie it is. The forces that stand against us are mighty, but they are also hollow. Their story has no heart, and a tale with no heart will surely fail.

The great secret held by the wise men of old is this: what seems impossible today is often a certainty on the morrow. The very things our forebears called a fool's dream—that women might cast a stone in the counsel, that all men might be free, that a man might rest on the seventh day—are now truths we take for granted. We have come to a turning point, a moment when the old order, in its mad gallop toward the abyss, has become so utterly broken that it can no longer be ignored.

The mending will be a new way of life, a politics of belonging. It will be built from the humble stones of our villages, through mutual aid and shared toil. We shall reclaim our common wealth, our shared lands, and our collective might. We shall build a world where the poor are shielded from the rich, the weak from the strong, and the defenseless from the armed. We will restore not just the earth's health, but our very souls. This is our true purpose: to rebuild a world where we may all finally belong.

The main sources for Anglo-Saxon culture and history fall into three main categories: contemporary written accounts, later literary works, and archaeological evidence. Together, these sources provide a multifaceted, though sometimes incomplete, picture of the period.

Written Sources

Written accounts from the Anglo-Saxon period are incredibly valuable, though they must be read with an understanding of their authors' biases, particularly those of a religious nature.

• The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: This is a collection of annals in Old English that chronicles the history of the Anglo-Saxons from the 9th century onwards. Commissioned by King Alfred the Great, it was updated at various monasteries and serves as a vital primary source for the events of the time. The differing accounts in the various manuscripts offer insight into regional perspectives and priorities.

• Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People: Written by the monk Bede in 731 AD, this Latin work is one of the most important sources for the early history of Anglo-Saxon England. While it focuses on the spread of Christianity, it also contains significant details about political events, kings, and the geography and people of Britain.

• Beowulf: This epic poem, while not a historical document, is an invaluable source for understanding the values, beliefs, and social structure of the Anglo-Saxons. It's a heroic legend, but it provides rich details about their warrior culture, loyalty to a lord (or comitatus), feasting in the mead hall, and pagan beliefs coexisting with Christian themes.

Archaeological Sources

Archaeological discoveries have revolutionized our understanding of Anglo-Saxon life, providing a tangible window into their daily lives, beliefs, and interactions with other cultures.

• Sutton Hoo: This royal burial ground in Suffolk, England, yielded one of the most significant archaeological finds in the country. The unlooted ship burial, likely of King Rædwald of East Anglia, contained a wealth of artifacts, including a spectacular helmet, intricate jewelry, and ceremonial objects. The sheer opulence of the grave goods provides evidence of a sophisticated, wealthy society with extensive trade links.

• Grave Goods and Settlements: Excavations of Anglo-Saxon burial sites and settlements across England have revealed a wide range of artifacts, from pottery and weapons to everyday items like combs and buckles. These finds offer insights into their material culture, social hierarchy, and burial rituals. For example, the presence of certain grave goods, like weapons or elaborate brooches, can indicate the status of the deceased.

Other Sources

• Laws and Charters: Documents such as King Alfred's law code and land charters provide legal and administrative details about Anglo-Saxon society, including the rights of individuals and the structure of local governance.

• Place Names and Linguistics: The names of towns and villages in modern England often have Anglo-Saxon roots, such as those ending in "-ton" (town) or "-ham" (village), which helps historians map the extent of Anglo-Saxon settlement. The evolution of the Old English language itself, seen in texts like the Exeter Book and the Vercelli Book, is another important source for cultural study.

Sōþ is on þīnum sculdre.

Hearken, young warrior, and heed the wisdom of my years, for the words of the old ones are a bitter drink, yet they hold the truth within.

It is said that the truth is on your shoulder. This is not a man-word, but a knowing carved by fate's own hand. For every man carries a heavy stone, a burden not of iron or of wood, but of the soul's deep knowing. This truth is a grim companion, a shadow-friend who sits beside you at the ale-bench and walks with you on the war-path. It is the unshakeable certainty of what is, and what you have done. You can cast off your mail-coat or your shield, but you cannot cast this knowing into the wind. It is your Wyrd, a treasure terrible to hold, and a weight you shall carry until the barrow claims you.

And know this also: kindness and beauty scorned becomes your shadow. A man may turn from the sun-bright shield of a gentle deed, or spit upon the shining work of the good folk. He may scorn the helping hand and the tender word. But what is rejected does not perish. No. It lives on, a hateful ghost. The kindness you cast aside, the beauty you mocked with a cold heart—they gather in the mire and rise up to become your dark twin. This shadow, this grim specter, cleaves to your heel and follows you in light and in darkness. It is the tarnish on your soul-smith's work.

Thus, when these two words are braided, the one gives meaning to the other. The truth that sits forever on your shoulder is the shadow you have forged yourself. The burden you carry is the knowledge of your own scorn, the darkness you chose to cast forth into the world, which now returns to cling to your spirit. You cannot flee this knowing, for it is your own creation.