- During the English Civil War in 1642, Parliamentary troops vandalized Winchester Cathedral, damaging the altar, organ, and ten wooden chests containing the sacred remains of Anglo-Saxon kings, queens, bishops, and saints.
- The soldiers opened the chests, throwing the bones at the stained-glass windows. After they left, cathedral clergy collected and rehoused what they could of the remains.
- Today, six mortuary chests still sit on top of the Winchester Cathedral choir screens, four of them originals from before the destruction and two replacements from 1661.
- Archaeologist Cat Jarman uses these chests as a framework for her captivating history of Anglo-Saxon England, delving into the lives and exploits of the early kings and their often un-Christian behavior, including fornication in monasteries and indulging in sinful acts.
- Jarman also highlights the violence that was prevalent in this era, where many kings met bloody ends, such as murder in brawls or at the hands of family members.
- The book explores the tumultuous relationship between the Anglo-Saxons and Scandinavians, with regular warfare between them for over two centuries and the Viking raids that ravaged England’s shores.
In the days of yore, during the English Civil War, a despicable act occurred within the revered halls of Winchester Cathedral. It was the dark winter of December 1642, when Parliamentary troops, stripped of all decency, stormed the cathedral’s sacred grounds. A tempest of destruction followed in their wake as they laid waste to all that was holy. The magnificent altar and the resounding organ, both symbols of divine beauty, were smashed into oblivion.
Yet, the true tragedy unfolded when their sights fell upon the ten wooden chests cradling the sacred remains of kings, queens, bishops, and saints from the Anglo-Saxon era. These chests, repositories of venerated souls, were callously torn open and their precious contents flung with reckless abandon. Bones, once adored and revered, flew through the air, shattering the stained-glass windows that had stood witness to centuries of devotion.
When the soldiers, content with their desecration, grew bored and departed, the clergy of the cathedral, with heavy hearts, attempted to salvage what they could of the fallen kings of Wessex. Reverently, they gathered the scattered relics and gave them a new home within the hallowed space. Today, six mortuary chests rest upon the cathedral choir screens in Winchester, a testament to the past. Four of these chests stood as survivors of the vicious destruction of 1642, while the other two were replicas created in 1661.
Within these sacred chests lies a shrine of history, where the journey of Anglo-Saxon England is told through the ancient bones it houses. Archaeologist Cat Jarman seeks to unlock the secrets held by these chests, using them as a gateway to the world of our ancestors. Through her work, she weaves a tale that brings to life the earliest king whose bones reside within those chests – Cynegils, who ascended to the Wessex throne in the year 611. It was during his reign that the kingdom embraced Christianity, though Jarman’s narrative illuminates the complexities of kings who struggled to conform to the virtues we consider inherently Christian.
One such challenge was their struggle with matters of the flesh. Aethelbald, an early king of Mercia and rival kingdom to Wessex, was the subject of scandalous accusations from the venerable St. Boniface, the archbishop himself. Boniface fervently accused Aethelbald of exploiting monasteries for licentious fornication, casting aside the vows of chastity and corrupting both nuns and virgins. Such an existence earned him more than the disdain of Boniface. In a most tragic twist, Aethelbald met his end at the hands of his own followers, his life stolen away by the dagger of treachery.
But the stories of kings and their indiscretions do not end there. In the 950s, Eadwig, the king who held dominion over a united England, could not even contain his lust long enough to conclude his coronation ceremony. Impatient and consumed by his desires, he crawled into the bed of both a mother and her daughter, succumbing to sin in the vilest manner. Such immoral behavior did not go unnoticed, and history retained the vile image of him wallowing in wickedness, as if immersed in a sty of filth.
However, amidst all the tales of dark decadence and licentiousness, there exists a flicker of piousness. Alfred the Great, a beloved ruler, found himself haunted by the desires of the flesh. It was said that he knelt before the divine, beseeching the heavens for respite. In a truly curious twist of fate, the gods answered his prayers in an unexpected manner. A minor ailment, painful yet bearable in its affliction, was sent upon him. An ailment chosen by the celestial powers to distract the great king from his carnal desires. And so, Alfred, seeking purity, found himself troubled with an ailment most uncomfortable to the body. But, ever the resolute soul, he called upon the heavens once more, and his prayer was answered. The piles vanished, marking the end of his divine trial.
Violence, relentless and savage, permeated the Anglo-Saxon world. Many kings of this era met their grisly demise through acts of bloodshed. In 946, Edmund I, grandson of Alfred the Great, fell victim to a brawl that erupted in the Gloucestershire village of Pucklechurch, where his life was mercilessly stolen away. Thirty years later, Corfe Castle became the stage for the teenage king Edward’s demise, earning him the title of ‘the Martyr.’ Rumors whispered of his untimely death at the hand of his stepmother, Aelfthryth, forever casting a shadow over her name.
Yet, in the chronicles of antiquity, there is one tale that stands as both fable and truth: the story of Edmund, the martyred king of East Anglia. Captured by Viking raiders, he suffered an agonizing fate. First, used as target practice for archers, his body endured countless arrows before finally succumbing to beheading. His head, a solemn trophy, was thrown deep into the heart of a forest. Desperate to retrieve their fallen king, a search party was dispatched. Their efforts would have been fruitless were it not for a celestial intervention.
The land of the Anglo-Saxons, as depicted by Jarman, is a realm where the boundaries between the earthly and the ethereal are often blurred. It is a place where legends are born from the very soil, where tales of heroism and treachery are whispered by the winds and carried forth by the rivers. The bone chests, ancient repositories of knowledge and memory, serve as windows into this bygone era. Through them, Jarman delves deep into the heart of a civilization, unearthing its secrets, its beliefs, and its undying spirit.
Yet, it is not just the grand tales of kings and warriors that captivate the reader. It is the everyday life of the common folk, their struggles and joys, that paint a vivid picture of Anglo-Saxon society. The intricate patterns of trade, the melding of cultures, and the ever-present influence of the Norsemen are all explored with a keen eye and a scholar’s precision. Jarman’s work is a testament to the enduring allure of the past, a siren’s call beckoning us to journey back in time and rediscover our roots.
In “Through the Bone Chests,” Cat Jarman has woven a tapestry that is both hauntingly beautiful and deeply informative. It serves as a bridge between the world of the Anglo-Saxons and our own, reminding us that while times may change, the essence of humanity remains constant. The tales of yore, with their blend of myth and reality, continue to resonate with us, echoing the timeless nature of the human spirit.
