In the previous chapter we briefly introduced the early ‘Anglo-Saxon’, or perhaps more accurately ‘Anglo-British’ community which lived along the Warwickshire & Worcestershire Avon valley in the 5th-7th centuries, represented by a chain of settlement sites and cemeteries along this westward-flowing river in an area – the West Midlands – which has generally been regarded as the western frontier of ‘Anglo-Saxon’ activity. We discussed how the situation of this community makes them an ideal case-study for getting to grips with the complexities of late antiquity – of continuity and change, the arrival of new people and new fashions, and how identity formed and transformed in lowland Britain in the period between the Roman withdrawal and the emergence of coherent Anglo-Saxon kingdoms.  

Whereas overarching narratives of this period are so often dominated by the archaeology of the south and east coast, it is perhaps these inland places at the crossroads between kingdoms (Tompkins, 2017) where we might get a better glimpse of the themes and processes affecting lowland Britain as a whole. However, with many of its sites excavated prior to modern archaeology, and with their finds not displayed, this region is hugely overlooked, and barely features in public-facing discourse about the Anglo-Saxon period or the processes which led to the formation of the kingdom of England. To address this, we embarked on a three-year project to reconstruct an image of three individuals from this community-chain, based on remains from specific burials and to raise awareness of the archaeology of this region.

​Many cemeteries in this region with fascinating finds were excavated prior to modern archaeology considerably challenging efforts to reconstruct burial assemblages (a problem we have discussed previously and will return to in a later chapter discussing the reconstruction of an assemblage from Bidford-on-Avon) but one cemetery in particular was meticulously excavated in the mid 1980s by some of the UK’s leading early medieval specialists, and after a lengthy delay its archaeology was analysed and finally published in 2009. The themes which emerged from the analysis of the ‘Roman, British and Anglo-Saxon Community’ cemetery at Wasperton challenged many of the existing assumptions and entrenched debates about the arrival of the ’Anglo-Saxons’, changing burial practices, expression of identity, and the emergence of ‘Anglo-Saxon’ kingdoms (Carver et. al., 2009) in ways that have perhaps still not fully had chance to work through.

The archaeology here was, for an early medieval cemetery, almost uniquely long-lived and continuous, diverse, and did not fit with any particular simplistic model of settlement or change. Argued to ‘raise more questions than it answers’ the cemetery at Wasperton represents a local community, in the heart of what is now England – always diverse, highly networked with other regions, continually renegotiating its identity, and adapting or responding to outside change.  

​Seeking to raise awareness of this fascinating archaeology, here we present and discuss work led by Thegns of Mercia member and historic costume expert Lindsey Catlin to reconstruct the appearance of one individual from this late antique Anglo-British community based on remains from one of 242 burials in the Wasperton cemetery. 

​​Most cultures across Northern Europe share a love for alcoholic drinks made from the fermentation of malted barley; a love which has persisted for at least 6,000 years. The wide range of elaborate drinking vessels in early Anglo-Saxon princely burials, and later written descriptions of mead-hall culture, revelry and ritual-drinking strongly evidence the important role consumption of alcoholic drinks played in social life, and functioning, of Anglo-Saxon society. In ‘Beowulf’ it is made very clear that drinking binds warriors together and cements loyalty of troops to their leaders; unable to party in the hall due to Grendel’s attacks, Hrothgar’s fellowship dwindles. Also described is the serving of drinks by the women hosts within the hall – in strict social order (Pollington, 2003) suggesting that women tended to be in charge of brewing and rationing the drinks, and hinting at the soft-power they wielded at feasts by judging and signalling the social pecking-order (Herbert, 1997).

Outside of feasts and social gatherings though, it appears that ale was the staple drink of day-to-day life. Ælfric’s Colloquy – a 10th century ‘classroom textbook’ for teaching Latin literacy (with Old English gloss) describes an imagined conversation between a ‘master’ and a novice monk / boy who describes every-day life, including his “sober” diet (Hagen, 1995). When asked by the master “what do you drink?” he replies “ale, if I have any. Water if I have no ale”. When asked why he does not drink wine, he replies that it is too expensive, but also, that wine is unsuitable for “the young and foolish” and implies it is too intoxicating for a child. This is strong evidence that among Anglo-Saxons water was drunk, routinely, but that ale was preferred as the everyday, daytime drink (including for children) and that this ale cannot have been particularly alcoholic.
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It is often said that medieval folk subsisted entirely on ale because water was contaminated and unsafe to drink; we can see from Ælfric’s Colloquy that, at least as far as the Anglo-Saxon period is concerned, this is an oversimplification. Water from streams in more remote and upland areas – such as where monasteries were often sited – would usually be perfectly safe to drink; water from further downstream and especially near major settlements, less so. Early medieval folk could have no knowledge of microbiology but it would not take a genius to notice that those who drank more water, and less ale (considered "strengthening" and generally associated with good health) were often more likely to suffer stomach upsets, leading to the evolution of a habitual preference for ale over water as part of early medieval people’s daily routine.
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It's clear, therefore, that ale was central to both every-day life in Anglo-Saxon England, and to social functioning. Its worth examining then, what precisely Anglo-Saxon ‘ale’ and 'beer' were, how it was made, and why it became so important.  

How did folk in early medieval lowland Britain spend the coldest and darkest time of the year?  What evidence do we have for their midwinter traditions, how did they change and evolve during the period, and have any survived to influence our own festive traditions today?

In preparation for a special midwinter event and seasonal exhibition at the most famous early Anglo-Saxon archaeological site - Sutton Hoo, and building on an earlier article on this subject published in 2012, we embarked on a project to re-examine the evidence for Anglo-Saxon midwinter traditions.  Though noting the existence of a well established image of a generalized early medieval Yule based on passed-down folk traditions and logical inferences is held dear by many people today, we found that many traditions assumed to be Anglo-Saxon in origin are absent from primary sources from the period and are first documented surprisingly late. On the other hand, we found evidence for surprisingly familiar traditions established during the Anglo-Saxon period which can be thought of as distant ancestors of aspects of modern Christmas we still observe today.
So don your warmest cloak, grab a horn-full of mead, and join us on a journey through time, back to the Anglo-Saxon midwinter festival known as Yule.