On 'location'...

I often quote my daughter who once said, when asked what I do, that I “Stand around in fields getting emotional.”

Well, if your interest is pre-Conquest England, there’s nothing left to see of that period but empty fields, right? Wrong. Yes, it’s true, I do spend a lot of time in fields, but it is possible to visit sites connected with Anglo-Saxon England, and I thought for this post, my last of 2025, I'd take you on a whistle-stop tour of some of the places I’ve been where I’ve felt a real connection to the people whose stories I write, with some links for further reading if you'd like.

I’ll start with some buildings - yes, actual buildings. The main reason there’s so little of Saxon England left to see is that they mainly built with wood, which hasn’t survived. But religious buildings, especially in the later part of the period, were built in stone. And there are some beautiful examples still standing.

Escomb

Sitting these days rather incongruously surrounded by modern housing in a little village in County Durham is this extraordinary Church. It probably dates from the late seventh century, and it recycled some Roman stone. It has a wonderful sundial on the wall outside and, apart from the porch - a new addition - has survived intact and unmodernised, probably because the rich bishops of Durham lost interest in it and it was never extended. (See a post all about Escomb HERE)

St Oswald’s, Gloucester

Not far away from Gloucester Cathedral are the remains of St Oswald’s priory. It was originally dedicated to St Peter, but if you know your early medieval history or have read my novels Cometh the Hour and To Be A Queen, you’ll know what happened to Oswald of Northumbria and that his remains were fetched to Mercia by Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians. It wasn’t the first time he’d been posthumously re-homed though, as you’ll discover in my latest novel, The Sins of the Father. Æthelflæd herself was laid to rest here, next to her husband. This isn’t a field, and there's not much left of the building, but I did get incredibly emotional standing on this site and feeling so close to the people about whom I’ve researched and written so much.

Deerhurst St Mary’s and Odda’s Chapel

Visit Deerhurst, also in Gloucestershire, and you get a real two-for-one. Parts of St Mary’s church are the original Saxon building and, again, if you’ve read To Be A Queen I can tell you that this is the chapel where Ethelred goes to pray, where he takes Æthelflæd, and where they sit together in his twilight years. When I visited, I had the place to myself and the sense of calm was overwhelming. It’s still a working church and the connection with the past is almost palpable. In the book I mentioned the carving of the Madonna above the door, and the ‘angel’ on the outside wall, and here are my photos of them.

Less than a stone’s throw from the church is Odda’s Chapel. Odda was a later earl of Mercia who, despite the assertions of some guide books and websites, was not related to Earl Ælfhere, or Alvar as I called him in my novel, Alvar the Kingmaker. He built the chapel in remembrance of his brother and the dedication stone reads: 

"Earl Odda ordered this royal hall to be built and dedicated in honour of the holy Trinity & for the soul of his brother Ælfric who died in this place. Bishop Ealdred dedicated it on 12 April. The fourteenth year of Edward, king of the English (1056)." 

The chapel would not have been discovered had a tree not fallen down in 1675 and revealed this stone embedded in its roots. Even so, the chapel was not discovered until the nineteenth century during renovations to the manor house attached to it.  

Hexham

Just a quick word about this: if you visit Hexham Abbey be sure to go down to the crypt which dates from the days of St Wilfrid (c. 633 – 709 or 710) who features in both my Tales of the Iclingas novels, Cometh the Hour and The Sins of the Father. And try, as I did, to spend a few moments alone down there. Incredible. (Read more about this and another of Wilfrid's crypts HERE)

But perhaps I should take you to some of those fields now?

Yeavering

It’s bleak. Even centuries after the settlement was built, the site sits in open countryside, surrounded by huge hills, and a fierce wind blows. Not the obvious spot for a ‘des res’ (desirable residence) but nevertheless it was here that Edwin of Northumbria decided to build (or rebuild; there’s evidence that this site had been in use during an earlier period) a great hall, and excavation has shown that there was also some kind of outdoor ‘amphitheatre’, probably where meetings were held. Bede tells us that Bishop Paulinus baptised Northumbrians in the nearby River Glen. All I can say is that they must have been freezing. Still, standing on this enormous site, hemmed in by the hills of the Cheviots, I felt a connection with the man who plays a major part in Cometh the Hour. (Read more about Yeavering HERE)

Heavenfield

Still in Northumbria, my next ‘field’ is Heavenfield. It’s where Oswald, he whose remains have travelled up and down the country, was said to have erected a wooden cross on the eve of battle. He was Edwin of Northumbria’s successor, though these men, despite being uncle and nephew, had never met. There’s a church on the site now, a site which may also have been the battlesite, for excavation has revealed fragments of human bone and weaponry. It’s an atmospheric place, but for me even more poignant was the place we managed to track down nearby, Rowley Burn, which is probably the Denisburn which Bede spoke of as the place Cadwallon of Gwynedd made his last stand. Cadwallon was a good friend and ally of Penda of Mercia and while writing Cometh the Hour I developed a deep affection for him. To be so close to the place where he fought for his very life was moving indeed. (Read more about Heavenfield HERE)

Sutton Hoo

Back down south now, and one of the most famous fields of all (aside from the one just off the A5, where the Staffordshire Hoard was discovered, the subject of my last blog post).  In 1939, when Great Britain was on the brink of war with Germany, a lady named Edith Pretty asked a local amateur archaeologist to investigate some mounds on her property which she was convinced were burial mounds. Well, I think we all know what happened next, and the unearthed ship burial with its incredible wealth of treasure is world famous. I visited this Suffolk site early one morning, just as it was opening. Coachloads of people had also just arrived, but I noted that they were all heading initially to the visitors’ centre. I made my way swiftly to the site itself, and thus was alone with the burial mounds. Never mind that one - the big one - is now a reconstruction; I stood for a moment in the early morning light on that summer’s day and felt a chill.

Yes, I seem to do a lot of ‘standing around getting emotional’ but when you’re so close to the past, it’s hard not to.

[All photos by and copyright of Annie Whitehead]

Escomb Church - Anglo-Saxon Rarity

I love Anglo-Saxon history, but researching it can sometimes be frustrating, not just because of the paucity of surviving documents, but because of the lack of 'locations'. If this blog post were about Anne Boleyn, it would be illustrated with photographs of the Tower of London, and paintings of the lady herself, complete with her famous necklace.

We Anglo-Saxonists aren't quite so fortunate in that regard. Many of the buildings associated with the age no longer exist, buried under later, Norman, edifices. The wooden house at Corfe where Queen Ælfthryth was staying when she murdered, or didn't murder, her stepson King Edward, has long-since disappeared, and even the stone castle built there is now a ruin. There is no surviving artwork which gives us even a rough approximation of how people looked.

Imagine, then, how thrilling it is to be able to visit Escomb Church, built of stone and probably dating to the late seventh century.

Escomb Church is about a mile and a half from Bishop Auckland, home to the Prince Bishops of Durham, and is quite a contrast to the towering grandeur of Durham Cathedral.

I always imagined that Escomb Church, being so ancient, was situated in a small, quaint village, but in fact it sits on a circle of land, surrounded on all sides by modern housing. Yet it exudes calm, an ancient building standing proud, refusing to give up all its secrets, and leaving historians puzzled.

The village of Escomb is mentioned in a grant of land by Bishop Ealdhun, who was bishop of Durham in the tenth century.

Symeon of Durham's Life of St Cuthbert, shows the bishop leasing to "three earls: Ethred, Northman and Uchtred the following lands: Gainford, Whorlton, Sledwich, Barforth, Startforth, Lartington, Marwood Green, Stainton, Streatlam, Cleatlam, Langton, Morton Tinmouth, Piercebridge, Bishop Auckland and West Auckland, Copeland, Weardseatle, Binchester, St Andrew Aucklad (?), Thickley, Escombe, Witton-le-Wear, Hunwick, Newton Cap, Helme Park." (Symeon of Durham. HistoriadeSanctoCuthberto 31.)

It is clear from the architectural evidence, though, that the church itself was built much earlier, but the first puzzle is who built it, and why? We may never know. The second of the puzzles is that the stones in the upper courses are smaller than those lower down. The height of the building and the ground plan perhaps hint at Irish Celtic influence, and the very fact that it was, unusually for Saxon buildings, constructed in stone, might point towards a connection with Gallic chapels.


The chancel arch is believed to have been reassembled from a Roman archway, although the scroll paintwork on the underside is probably much later, perhaps even fifteenth century.

The Saxon cross behind the altar is believed to date from the ninth century, although according to the guide I spoke to, it's possible that it is an earlier 'preaching cross' and actually predates the church.

Of the church windows, the smaller ones which have round headed lintels are thought to have been carved 'in situ', and their design conforms to the earliest period of Saxon building.

Behind the pulpit, carved into the wall, there is a cross, described by my guide as an 'incised consecration cross.' Its shape points once more to an Irish/Celtic influence.

Carvings to the side of a blocked up doorway in the sanctuary are believed to depict Adam and Eve standing beneath the tree of life.

In the porch, which is a later, medieval, addition to the building, there are various Saxon artefacts - the remains of Saxon crosses, and pieces of glass and pottery excavated from the churchyard.

In that churchyard, an unusual gravestone has been dated somewhere between 1100 and 1300, although it was not originally outside, but laid in the floor of the nave.

Above the porch, there is a sundial, which being on the porch, is later medieval, but on the original church wall, there is an older, Anglo-Saxon sun dial:

And so to the final puzzle: why did this church survive? It is a rare thing, indeed - a surviving stone Saxon church, so why has it not been knocked down, or 'improved', other than the addition of the porch?

It is thought that the Prince Bishops of Durham were not interested in building a bigger/better church in such a tiny village. In other words, it has probably - ironically - survived because of a lack of interest. The bishops of Durham, whose official residence is still at Auckland Castle in Bishop Auckland, (pictured below) became virtually autonomous and wielded extraordinary power. Little Escomb Church was in all likelihood a beneficiary, in a strange way, of their almost regal status.

For those interested in the later period of Saxon history, it should be pointed out that Bishop Ealdhun was witness to a charter of King Æthelred in 1009 granting land to Morcar, thegn of the Seven Boroughs. He was also the father of Ecgfritha, who married Uchtred, Earl of Bamburgh. Perhaps a more familiar spelling is Uhtred. He was also known as Uhtred the Bold, he was treacherously killed, and it is he from whom a certain Mr Cornwell claims descent...

[all photographs by and copyright of the author]

Morcar of the Seven Boroughs and Uhtred of Bamburgh feature in my new book Mercia: The Rise and Fall of a Kingdom, to be published by Amberley books on 15 September 2018