There's hole at the bottom of my garden… by Eve Edwards

I'm living with the builders at the moment.  A medium-sized extension on the side of our house appears to demand a foundation hole the size of an Australian open cast mine.  What is fascinating, however, is seeing the layers stripped away in the garden - first the top soil, then the layers of sand and light gravel deposited by the nearby Thames over the centuries (yes, Bible scholars, I live in a house literally built on sand).  I asked the chap this morning if he had found any buried treasure.  Only a few coins, he replied.  What was more exciting than a couple of old pennies was discovering the bricked up coal hole that I had no idea was in the side of the house and seeing how the utilities connected up.  The old gas pipe had a bright blue (and reassuring new looking) hose threaded through it like some clever bypass surgery on the heart of a Victorian house.  It was a mini Time Team moment in my own garden.

I suppose I should count myself lucky as a house down the road from us discovered a burial site when they had their basement excavated.  The police were called and we all got a thrill seeing the blue and white incident tape (and it wasn't even due to filming for Morse).  The bones turned out to be Anglo-Saxon so the police stood down and the archeologists moved in.

Anglo-saxon burials in oxfordshire
c. Ashmolean Museum

Slightly creepy to think on whose bones you might be sitting...

Television producers have clocked to the fascination we have to the past we can touch with a spade and digger.  I nod here to the above mentioned Time Team who made dirty fingernails, home knitted jumpers and weathered faces archaeologically cool.

My teenage heartthrob, Michael Wood, took his crew of diggers to the little green outside my parents' house in Long Melford, Suffolk, a year or so ago.  They dug up a Roman road that they had not known was there and revealed a whole layer of history in the village just by making a couple of trenches.  To me that is akin to magic.

I can think of a number of writers who are good at doing the same thing with pen rather than shovel. One of my favourite children's books was Tom's Midnight Garden.  Philippa Pearce caught that sense so many of us have of the different eras layering in the same place - think filo pastry rather than shortcrust.  The John Gordon book, The Giant under the Snow, was another favourite.  As a child, I lived near the earthworks that made up Boadicea's camp in Epping Forest and took idea of Gordon's earthen giant with me whenever I walked there.

The edition I read as a child.
Love this cover!

Scratch the surface anywhere in the UK and history jumps out at you jack-in-a-box fashion.  I find that immensely exciting and use it to fuel my writing.  You don't have to travel to see the past; you can just close your eyes and send your imagination down into the earth.

Happy digging!

Myrcna Hlaefdige: by Sue Purkiss

Those of you who regularly read my posts (you there, lurking in the corner - come on, show yourself! Oh, just a shadow. All right then, as you were...) will know that I've already written one or two about Alfred the Great and his wonderful daughter, Aethelflaed. But I make no apology about writing another one this week, because there's a practical reason for it: Michael Wood has a series of three documentaries on at the moment about Alfred and his family, and if you're interested in history, you should watch them - because they're really excellent, and because Alfred is a tremendously significant figure who in recent years has not had nearly as much attention paid to him as he deserves. And this is even more true of Aethelflaed - except that in her case, she's not been getting as much attention as she deserves for centuries, let alone the last few years.

Why are they so important? Well, Alfred, because he was the last English king standing when the Vikings had dispatched the rest of them - either into exile or into the afterlife using a fairly gruesome method known as the blood-eagle.(For more detail, see my book, Warrior King.) Because he turned the tide, laying the foundations for his grandson, Athelstan, to rule the whole of England. Because he fervently believed in the importance of education and culture, collecting learned scholars at his court from all over Europe, and translating important books into English so that more people could actually read them. Because he set in train the creation of towns - burhs - which would form centres for commerce and places of safety for the people. Because he  took London from the Danes and set about rebuilding it.

And Aethelflaed? As a girl of sixteen, she was married to the considerably older Aethelred, Lord of the Mercians. Mercia had been a great kingdom - one of its kings was Offa, who built the dyke of which parts can still be seen and walked. But when Alfred of Wessex stood fast, the last king of Mercia fled, and now, Mercia was a client kingdom with Alfred as overlord. Initially with her husband, Aethelflaed carried on her father's work in Mercia. She too established burhs and restored ancient towns such as Gloucester and Tamworth. When her husband became ill, she carried on, and when he died, the people chose her as their Myrcna Hlaefdige - Lady of the Mercians; and she fought, sometimes alongside her brother Edward, against the Danes. Sometimes she didn't have to fight: such was her reputation that the Danes of York and Nottingham swore allegiance to her without a battle. She also fostered her brother's first son (though not with his queen), Athelstan - who in his turn became a great king who bound the different kingdoms of England into one.

The programmes are on Tuesdays at 9pm on BBC 4, and are repeated at 10.15 on Thursdays, same channel. Because of Michael Wood's erudition and enthusiasm, they're an absolute delight, and it's a special treat to hear Anglo-Saxon being read aloud so beautifully. If you can't catch the programmes, there's also my book, Warrior King, which is published by Walker as an e-book.

Alfred's also been in the news recently for a different reason - read about it here. In brief, there is some doubt as to where his final resting place is, because his remains are known to have been moved several times. The Bishop of Winchester is coat the moment considering whether to grant permission to a group which wishes to analyse the bones which are said to be his, in the hope of being able to prove their identity one way or another. This comes in the wake of the discovery of Richard 111's skeleton in Leicester.

But old as Richard's bones are, they're younger than Alfred's by centuries. It's very unlikely that a direct descendant of Alfred could be found, to provide DNA - though not, perhaps, impossible. (See another post of mine, about Cheddar man - here.) So although tests could show how old the bones were, and indicate more about the man to whom they belonged, it's not likely that they could prove his identity. So should these bones be disturbed? What do you think?

The Legend That Is... by Sue Purkiss

Last weekend, I visited the tower in the picture. No, it's nothing to do with Rapunzel: it was built in honour of a legendary Dark Age king. I wrote a book about him a few years ago. Much to my delight, it's recently been come out as an ebook, and I'm writing this post partly to celebrate that.

I'm also writing it because I found it recently that Michael Wood has just made a documentary series about this same king, which will be on BBC in the autumn. It feels as if there's something in the air: perhaps the hour of this king is about to come again!

So who was he? Well, here are some clues.

• His name begins with an A. 
• He was a brave fighter and a skillful tactician.
• He gathered about him a cultured Christian court, inviting to it scholars from all over Europe. 
• Legends have gathered around his name.
• He truly cared for the welfare of his people - all of them, not just the rich ones.
• He had a Big Idea - the idea of England and Englishness.
• He had his time of despair in a watery wilderness.
• There are many places in south-west England which are associated with him - the Avalon marshes; Winchester (where a round table hangs in the Castle...);  the area near Wayland's Smithy; and the tower in the picture, which is in the grounds of Stourhead, in Wiltshire.

Have you got it yet? A few more clues...

• He was real. He definitely, incontrovertibly existed. 
• He did not have a helpful wizard called Merlin. (Though in my book, he does have a magic lady called Cerys.)
• His wife was called Eahlswith, not Guinevere.
• If he hadn't, against all odds, emerged from the marshes and conquered the Danes, there's a distinct possibility that we'd now be speaking some form of Danish. (Which would have its advantages - we'd be able to watch Borgen without subtitles!)

So - not Arthur, but Alfred. People often confuse the two - I can't tell you how many times I've been asked about that book I wrote about King Arthur. Don't get me wrong - I'm a great fan of the Arthurian legend. But Alfred was, famously, a great king. He achieved things. He made a difference. Yet now, if you go into most classrooms - or probably most pubs - you're lucky if you find anyone who's heard any more than a garbled story about some badly burnt cakes. I hope that's going to change!

Finally, here are the words which are carved on the stone tablet set into the front of Alfred's Tower.

Alfred the Great

AD 879 on this summit

Erected his standard against Danish invaders

To Him we owe

The origin of Juries

The Establishment of a Militia

the Creation of a Naval force

Alfred the light of a benighted age

was a Philosopher and a Christian

The Father of his People

The Founder of the English

Monarchy and Liberty.

What a guy!

In Search Of Michael: by Sue Purkiss

Tonight, while a few people might be watching Sweden v England on the television, I'll be watching a history programme: Michael Wood's The Great British Story: a People's History. Well, I'm a History Girl - you'd expect nothing less. It's exactly what the title says it is:  a history of Britain from the point of view not of the kings and nobles and upper classes, but of the ordinary people. There's one particular technique it uses that I think works very well: it has the ordinary people of today reading the testimony of the ordinary people of long ago. It's a simple but brilliant way of breathing life into the words of dusty ancient documents. If you've read other posts of mine, you'll know that I'm always banging on about history being about ordinary people as well as the well-known movers and shakers, so you'll understand why this appeals to me.

Michael and I go back a long way. In 1981 - over thirty years ago: can it really be true? - he made a documentary called In Search of the Dark Ages. In nine programmes, Michael leapt about all over Britain in a very fetching sheepskin jacket, exuding enthusiasm about such luminaries as the Sutton Hoo Man, Alfred the Great, Athelstan and Eric Bloodaxe. I did Anglo-Saxon as part of my English degree, and I've always felt drawn in some way to the Scandinavian strands of our heritage. (Still am: The Killing, anyone? Or The Bridge?) So perhaps I was an easy target.

But I think there was something new and innovative about those documentaries and the way they presented history. Suddenly, figures from the dim and distant past were brought to new and vivid life: Michael's enthusiasm was infectious. The way they were photographed added to the air of Scandinavian moodiness and grimness: you can see that on the cover of the hardback of the series. I think this particular shot is of the ridge above Ethandun (now Eddington) where Guthrum the Viking leader woke up one morning to see Alfred and all his forces ranged up on the skyline, about to descend like an eagle onto its prey. Years later, when I wrote a book about Alfred, Warrior King, I went to see this ridge; it's still just as atmospheric. I wonder if the seed for the book was sown when I watched that programme? I didn't think so at the time, I thought it had other roots; but looking back, I'm not so sure.

Since then, of course, there have been masses of popular history programmes on television - David Starkey, Simon Schama, Mary Beard, Helen Castor and many more. But I think perhaps that In Search of the Dark Ages was the mould-maker, with its charismatic presenter using every means at his disposal to convey his enthusiasm for his subject, with its delight in showing us the context and the settings and the artefacts which help to bring history to life. Isn't that what they all do now, to a greater or lesser degree?

And Michael kept on making programmes. I remember my sons cheering when he went in search of Alexander the Great, plunging into the sea fully clothed, climbing mountains, eating lamb cooked on a spit over the fire and then turning to the camera, his eyes shining, to share his excitement: 'Here I am, doing just what Alexander might have done, in the place where he might have done it!!' 


And now he's taking a fresh approach again, involving people in finding out their own local history, and showing us along the way what life was like for most people in centuries past. The old sheepskin jacket - or a worthy successor - is still occasionally in evidence, often accessorised now with a floaty turquoise scarf. I think he's great. He's certainly far more inspirational than any of my history teachers ever were, bless them!