The first in our Book Review & Literary series, which will, wherever possible, feature current and upcoming releases from British publishers.
Murder in Anglo-Saxon England: Justice, Wergild & Revenge by Annie Whitehead
Amberley Press | ISBN 978-1-3981-1988-8 | Hardback | £22.99 | Release Date: 15/02/2025
Murder mystery is definitely in vogue, so it is perhaps not surprising that this should be chosen as the topic for Whitehead’s latest book. Ms Whitehead sets out to examine over three centuries of murders and mysteries that took place in Anglo-Saxon England. It is a mammoth task but one she tackles with aplomb. Using as her source materials the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Bede’s Historia Ecclesiastica, and various other ancient texts, she takes the reader on a high-speed, thrilling ride through the annals of the Middle Ages. There are extensive notes and family trees, making the book very useful for reference and return reading.
We begin with the many kingdoms of Britain. Our island was a tangle of feuding families battling for status and territory. From Northumbria to Wessex, power switches sides over and over again as families struggle to establish powerful dynasties.
There are many points of interest in her work. Some of the most poignant include the fact that early laws did not always punish murder with death. Indeed, it is only under King Alfred the Great that a distinction is made between murder and what we would now call manslaughter: Alfred identifies intent as the key factor in murder, a qualifying factor that remains to this day. There is also a shift from blood feud or vengeance to justice.
More often than not, murder was punished by forcing the murderer to pay wergild—life money—a compensation payment. Wergild was paid for most loss of life. Death was mostly reserved for those who practised pagan ritual, bestiality and, interestingly, theft.
The conclusion one draws is clear: Christianity formed our legal code. King Alfred believed, as Whitehead writes, that “a king should live and rule as a Christian.” Great attention is paid to theft—of property, of money, of damage to property—and later to the crime of harming a man in his own home. An Englishman’s home is his castle has its roots in our ancient past.
One chapter is entitled “Christian men shall not be condemned to death for all too little.” This chapter contains a fascinating extract from the laws of Wulfstan, written for Æthelred and Cnut, which expresses the view that man can and should atone, and that this matters; it is not an empty gesture. The quotation continues: all efforts should be made to find “a lenient punishment, for the benefit of the people and not to destroy for a little matter God’s own handiwork and his own purchase, which he bought at a great price.” Once again, this emphasises how our laws are inextricably bound to Christianity.
For Wulfstan, crime is sin, and Jesus has already paid the price for man’s sin. Therefore, if we accept Christian philosophy, we must be sorry for our crimes, and society should not take the greatest price—life—for that is already bought by God. The wergild was paid by God—the great price—his own son. Man is precious to God; we are his remarkable creation. This is forgiveness in practice, the central theme of Christianity. But it is a two-way street: leniency only comes after atonement. There can be no forgiveness without first atoning. Even today, we are disturbed when a criminal shows no remorse.
The author brings these dark years to vivid colour, introducing us to many fascinating men and women who led rebellions, killed kings, and even murdered their own family members. The wife of King Offa (of Offa’s Dyke fame) triggers thoughts of Lady Macbeth with her deadly ambition, and there are some gruesome paragraphs on the problematic nature of execution by decapitation.
It is easy to see why these thousand-year-old writings have been the source material for blockbuster TV shows such as Vikings and The Last Kingdom, their world extravagantly recreated in all its naked brutality and passion.
The story of our civilisation is captured in these old texts. Whitehead writes of how Bede lamented, centuries ago, the lack of moral code and the need for Christian principles in society. It appears morality is a constant struggle. With the arrival of Ragnar Lothbrok (though his existence is disputed, those purported to be his sons were real) and the Vikings comes a common enemy—against which Alfred the Great is able to unite the warring factions of our island. Through a difficult birth spanning decades, the country we know as England is forged. Christianity was the glue that fastened the kingdoms together.
Most of us will never read or study these original texts, and thanks to Annie Whitehead, we have less need to, as her book is a fascinating vault of tales of adventure, romance, greed, betrayal, ambition, and faith set against the backdrop of our emerging legal system and nationhood.
In Anglo-Saxon law, another punishment was to be sold into slavery. Great value was attached to personal responsibility and the right to own property, accumulate personal wealth, and with it, freedom. Our love of freedom is deep-rooted and runs in our DNA from our forefathers.
The skilful composition of this book makes a complicated era widely accessible to many, bringing the Middle Ages into technicolour and allowing the reader to feel personally invested in and connected to both our past and our future as a free nation of peoples held together by our common code of Christianity.
By Rachael Tearney.
Follow Rachael at @WritesRachael
