I Cooked Using Only 10th Century Ingredients For A Week. This Is What I Learned.


Note: I wrote the majority of this article in Winter 2020 and have learned a lot more about Viking Age food in the meantime. There are things I would do differently in future and I do plan on repeating this experience again, with more planning. I considered abandoning this article and not publishing, but I thought some folks might appreciate it as it is. I’m also interested in seeing what recommendations (hopefully of a yummy kind) I might get before I try it again.

Food is universal, yet what is eaten in a place or time can tell us so much about the culture or people doing the eating. Mealtimes contribute in large to the structure of our day and many of us get huge enjoyment from them. Food is one of the simple pleasures, after all. Food is also something that can be recreated and experienced, just as our forefathers did. To taste a historical dish made with love and careful attention to remaining evidence is to experience a fleeting sense of time travel.

So, I decided before I even started this blog that I wanted to do something with early Medieval food. I attended an modern training event for re-enactors early last year (blessedly just before Covid really kicked off) as a member of the kitchen crew and I met several excellent living historians with a lot of experience cooking Viking Age food in camp. Conversations with them set me thinking about food and the types of things I’d prepared for camp prior.

I was usually the person who cooked for my group, however, I began to realise that much of my knowledge of food and cookery in period was inherited “re-enactor’s knowledge”. People ate a lot of soup and bread, meat was expensive and everyone drank ale instead of the fetid bacterial soup that sat in wells. While this stuff was not wrong per-se, it was very unspecific. I knew that most vegetables at the time were smaller and far less uniform than the hyper-farmed examples we have today and that their carrots were probably not orange. However, I couldn’t tell you what fruits and vegetables were most commonly grown and I certainly couldn’t describe what material evidence there was at various settlements. How much of all that has survived, let’s say in Anglo-Scandinavian York?

It turns out, quite a bit. We don’t have any recipe books from any Viking Age Gordon Ramsays, but cooking equipment and food waste was found in spades here. By examining the animal remains and traces of vegetal matter left behind, we can form a surprisingly varied diet for the 10th century denizen of Jórvík.

Carolyn Priest-Dorman compiled the following list:

Jorvík [York], Danelaw [England]

  • Meat — red deer, beef, mutton/lamb, goat, pork
  • Poultry — chicken, geese, duck, golden plover, grey plover, black grouse, wood pigeon, lapwing
  • Freshwater fish — pike, roach, rudd, bream, perch
  • Saltwater fish — herring, cod, haddock, flat-fish, ling, horse mackerel, smelt
  • Estuarine fish — oysters, cockles, mussels, winkles, smelt, eels, salmon
  • Dairy products — butter, milk, eggs
  • Grains — Oats (Avena sativa L.), wheat, rye, barley
  • Legumes — fava (Vicia faba L.)
  • Vegetables — carrots, parsnips, turnips (?), celery, spinach, brassicas (cabbage?)
  • Fruits — sloes, plums, apples, bilberries, blackberries, raspberries, elderberries (Sambuca nigra)
  • Nuts — hazelnuts, walnuts
  • Herbs/spices/medicinals — dill, coriander, hops, henbane, agrimony
  • Cooking aids — linseed oil, hempseed oil, honey
  • Beverages — Rhine wine

I don’t know about you, but I saw this and thought “There’s a lot I can work with there.”

Being in the last week of the second national lockdown and not being one to do things by half, I decided on a week where I would use only foodstuffs from 10th century York. I toyed with the idea of doing a month, but I wasn’t quite that masochistic. This leniency extended to what I drank- I kept drinking water for obvious reasons and I allowed myself my various caffeinated beverages of choice. I didn’t fancy the splitting headaches that would come from going cold turkey and with the low amount of sugar in my 10th century diet, I knew that I would need the pick-me-up.

Furthermore, I must note the additional limitations of this little experiment- I did not pay much attention to seasonality of produce. This is something I would actually like to amend in future with more planning and preparation, however, this was a bit of fun and I just wanted to get stuck in with what I had access to. I also must state that in no way am I trying to claim that my menu is representative of what all Viking Age Yorkies would have eaten regularly, nor that my presentation or ingredient combinations are absolutely accurate. My aim was to educate myself on what foods there is evidence for in York and then to combine them in ways that would allow me to experience the flavour profiles possible with the ingredients available. I had to cook using modern cookware on a modern electric stove, but I did try to use cooking techniques that we have evidence for (e.g. boiling, shallow frying, roasting.) Despite these limitations, I do still believe that my very unscientific endeavour has merit (even if that is only to inspire others to look more into it and because I had fun.)

Day One


I decided to start gently today, with meals that wouldn’t look all that unusual in a modern household. It was mostly a day of prepping, as I had to make all my stocks from scratch for meals throughout the week. Today, I made vegetable stock and boiled a ham for the week.



Brunch: Garlic mushrooms in a cream sauce with flatbread.

The mushrooms were shallow-fried in butter and garlic, with a dash of double cream added at the very end to bind it together and capture all the scrummy pan scrapings. The flatbread was (shamefully) shop-bought and consisted of wheat flour.



Dinner: Carrot and coriander pearl barley “risotto”, topped with cottage cheese.

This was super hearty and had me incredibly full- pearl barley is wondrous stuff. I cooked it slowly using some of the vegetable stock I had made earlier, crammed with lots of other veg (onions, carrots, parsnips, celery.) The cottage cheese added some needed creaminess and the coriander cut through the stodge of it all.

Snacks: Mint herbal tea and a handful of raspberries. I went to bed feeling pretty full.

Tuesday



Breakfast: Oat porridge with dried sour cherries, hazelnuts and rosehip syrup. I made the rosehip syrup myself with only 3 ingredients: local honey, distilled water and rosehips I picked nearby.

It’s nice stuff- I’m not sure if it was the honey I used or the rosehips themselves, but it had a very herbal taste. Almost a bit like old school medicinal drops I used to get as a child! However, it’s far from unpleasant and any sweetness is welcome in the 10thC diet. The porridge was made with oats, water, a little dash of milk and a pinch of salt.



Lunch: Viking Age Ploughmans, bread, cottage cheese, water cress, apple, ham, plum chutney.

For some, cottage cheese is a shuddery horror reminiscent of old-school fad diets. I happen to be quite a fan of the stuff, though it certainly needed the strong flavours of the oniony plum chutney and smokey ham. The water cress was just something I had growing at the time, but it added a nice bit of peppery flavour to the cheese. I was quite surprised how much I enjoyed this lunch, despite it not being my usual mature cheddar and Branston pickle affair.

I’ve eaten variations of this simple meal in encampments across Europe and I suspect that this kind of fare would have been common with working people in the Viking Age, as it was among agricultural workers throughout the centuries since. It would work well with dried meats or fishes instead of ham, as well as substituting the cottage cheese with hard cheese or yoghurts too. Eggs are also a fab addition to a Ploughmans, though I didn’t have one with this meal.



Dinner: Braised beef with garlic, roast parsnips and carrots with thyme.

Again, this dish wouldn’t look that unusual on a modern dinner table. The carrots eaten in 10th century York will have likely born more resemblance to wild carrots than the orange behemoths in supermarkets today. Unfortunately for me, wild carrots are not as common as one might hope in the centre of modern York. I did manage however to bag some gorgeous local-grown, organic heritage carrots- at my local Spar of all places! That all might sound very hipster, but they were teeny, sweet and came in all colours. I boiled them with the parsnips before roasting and actually saved the purple boil water to use for stock later in the week- I think you’ll agree that it was too pretty not to.



Thyme has not been found in the archaeological record in York, however, strains of wild thyme are native to the British Isles. It is also mentioned in 10-11th century English medical text the Lacnunga, under the Old English name “bothen” (Wyrtig, 2015.)

Wednesday




Breakfast: Buttermilk pancakes with rosehip honey syrup, topped with blackberries & double cream.

These pancakes were seriously decadent. I whipped up a huge jug of the batter (with honey in place of sugar) and got to frying up a couple of stacks, one for me, one for Eric and another for a dear friend. My friend and I took ours to go in very modern tupperware, while Eric devoured his at home. We had some errands to run in town that afternoon (the pigeons wouldn’t pick themselves up from the fishmongers, you know), so we had our brunch in a little corner near Coppergate itself.

The pancakes themselves were delicious, but very stodgy. I now know that one probably would have sufficed for me, but apparently that day I woke up and chose violence because we each had a stack of 3, plus cream and fruit. The acidity of the blackberries was welcome to cut through the stodge of the pancake, the cream too provided a necessary moistness and sweetness. Despite my whining though, the cakes themselves were very tasty and fluffy- I can’t be doing with a slimy pancake. Such a dish would have been possible with 10th century food stuffs, but I suspect they would have made their batter without a sweetener and relied on the topping for flavour.



Dinner: Mussels and clams cooked in Rhine wine with garlic, onions and coriander.


This was one of my favourite meals of the week and was pleasingly cheap and easy to make. I was inspired by the steamed mussel dish included in An Early Meal (Serra & Tunberg, 2013), but made some changes to suit my own palate. I adore coriander and I think the lovely green brightened up the seafood, as well as giving it a gorgeous aromatic quality. Clams were also on offer and so in the pot they went. The discarded shells were carefully saved and added to the pan of fish stock I made later that night.

I hadn’t a clue what Rhine wine was before this project, so I looked it up. It turned out that we happened to have some dry white wines that were suitable for this recipe already in our wine cupboard, so I popped open a bottle and tried to imagine what wines from the Rhine might have tasted like 1000 years ago. We happily sopped up the wine sauce with bread after the mussels and clams were demolished.

If you like seafood, you’ll know that steamed mussels are a simple but divine pleasure. The rich marine scent of the mussels, combined with the softened onions, garlic and celery was intoxicating. The white wine just made it *chef’s kiss*.

Snacks: An apple, a hard-boiled egg and handful of blackberries.

Thursday



Lunch: Pan-fried cod fillet on crushed fava beans with mint.

This was one of my favourite meals of the week and let me tell you, I needed it. By Thursday, I was feeling quite sluggish and my appetite was much reduced. I think that this was a combination of all the cooking I was doing (I made all my stocks from scratch and some dishes took a long time to slowly stew away) and the relative lack of sugar. Sure, I was eating a lot of vegetables and some fruit, but it was a lot less than my modern diet. I have quite a sweet tooth and look forward to tea and a chocolate chip shortbread during my work day, as well as pudding after dinner often. Hard-boiled eggs and fruit weren’t cutting it.

I got the cod on offer at one of our local supermarkets and being the Yorkshirewoman I am, I rejoiced. I pan-fried the cod in a little butter, making sure to get the skin all crispy. Meanwhile, I quickly boiled some tinned fava beans, drained and mashed them with some salt, butter and some freshly chopped mint leaves. Placing the cod on a little pile of the crushed beans, I added a little cream to the frying pan and made a quick sauce with the pan scrapings.

Like thyme, mint is a plant that has native strains found in the UK and was used extensively in medicine. I used peppermint as it was what I had access to, but other wild varieties would have been lovely too and would be closer to what could be found in Viking Age hedgerows.




Dinner: Traveller’s Pottage with apples, onions and ham.

This was heavily inspired by a fun video I saw on the Grimfrost YouTube channel. Hanna Thunberg (of An Early Meal authorship) made a simple winter dish that she terms a traveller’s pottage, as it contains ingredients that could be carried in a pack on a journey. Conveniently, it’s also exactly the kind of thing you would want to eat after a long hike. Her version is a Gotlandic twist on it, mine is a York kind of deal.

I made a simple porridge of pearl barley and my purple veg stock (it didn’t stay purple!!), combined with fried spring onions, some of my boiled ham chopped finely and some old apples I’d collected on a walk from Riccall to Stamford Bridge in September. Hanna talks about apples in the video, they will last heroically well if kept somewhere cool, dry and dark. They get sweeter over time and when cooked along with the onions, they really are delicious. I didn’t add hard cheese to mine as I didn’t feel confident in choosing a modern cheese that would be similar to historical examples- maybe in the future, I’ll make my own cheese and use that.

Snacks: Flatbread with cottage cheese and prune chutney, mint tea.

Friday



Breakfast: Buttermilk pancakes with blueberries, double cream drizzle and chopped hazelnuts.

The pancakes returned with a vengeance. As you can see, I learned from my greedy mistake earlier in the week and only cooked one. This time, I topped my pancake with some blueberries that I quickly softened in a hot pan with a little water, as well as some chopped hazelnuts and cream. I liked this better than the fresh blackberries, though the hazelnuts took quite a bit of chewing.

Blueberries are actually a New World plant, but their Old World cousins bilberries were found in York. However, finding dried or even frozen bilberries in November proved an almost Herculean feat. They do grow in the wild, but are not widely commercially available. So, I committed a cardinal authenticity sin and used blueberries.



Dinner: Whitefish soup with cod, carrots, onions and thyme.

This dish was a bit of a trial. I was still feeling very lethargic and not especially hungry, but I had stunk out our entire flat making the fish stock and damn it, Mama didn’t raise a quitter. So, I fried up some remaining cod with some spring onions, celery and carrots, then topped it all up with the fish stock. A dash of cream later made it look a little less dire and more like a New England chowder. The taste was actually really nice and I do think making my own fish stock was worth it- the smell however lingered in the flat for days. This did nothing for my already diminished appetite.

Snacks: Rosehip tea, chopped ham.

Saturday

Breakfast: Hardboiled hen’s eggs, apple and flatbread.

Unfortunately, I didn’t photograph this. You will all have to console yourselves with imagining hardboiled eggs and apple.



Lunch: Kidney and ham soup with carrots, spring onions and ham broth.

I think soldiering on through Friday’s fish trauma may have rekindled my appetite somewhat. Offal can be a divisive foodstuff for some, but I’m quite partial to it! I got some chopped ox kidney from our butchers for pennies and using veg and the broth saved from boiling my ham (with celery, garlic and ground coriander), I was able to make quite a tasty soup.

Animal remains from Anglo-Scandinavian York indicate that when folks did eat meat, they followed the nose to tail approach. Everything remotely edible on an animal was likely eaten. Personally, I believe that much of our modern snobbery and aversion to offal would have been baffling to Early Medieval Yorkies, who will have lived alongside what were essentially open air abattoirs. That is, however, just my view.

Offal generally is extremely high in vitamins and nutrients, which would have been an excellent supplement to a Medieval person’s diet (not that they would have known this.) Ox kidneys are apparently a great source of vitamin B12, selenium and riboflavin– which among other benefits, boost the immune system and reduce fatigue. Yet, here we are mostly putting them in dog food!



Dinner: Wood pigeon topped with bacon and stewed apple, stuffed with hazelnuts, walnuts and prune chutney. Served with roast mixed veg.

This is another dish that sounds quite posh, like something on the menu of a countryside pub with notions (you know the type I mean.) I had to ask around about where to get wood pigeons, as my grandparents didn’t have any in the freezer and they’re not exactly a common site at the big supermarkets. My grandad, who is a canny countryside gent, suggested that I go ask at the fishmongers on Market Street. I thought he was taking the piss at first- “Oh aye?” “Aye,” he said, so off I went.

Turns out he was right and the fishmongers really do stock wood pigeons, when they can get them. You heard it here first. Quite delighted, I ordered a couple and got some venison while I was at it (naturally, at a fishmongers.)

I roasted my prize bird and stuffed it carefully with the nuts and thick spoonfuls of plum chutney I made earlier in the week. The plum chutney really was gratifyingly easy to make and I think it would be even nicer if using spices and proper onions rather than spring onions. The secret is to use dried plums of the kind that would have been imported into Viking Age York- it makes for a much jammier chutney than fresh plums.

Regarding the pigeon itself, it wasn’t for me. The actual taste of the meat was gamey and almost bitter to my palate, thankfully Eric found it much more to his taste. The chutney and nut stuffing I was fond of, as well as the parsnips and carrots I roasted with the bird.


Snacks: Milk, dried sour cherries, mint tea with honey.

I’ve always been fond of mint tea anyway, but even more so when sweetness is limited. Aromatic herbal flavours seemed a lot more intense to me when I wasn’t eating so much processed sugar.

Sunday



Breakfast: Scrambled eggs with spinach, on toast.

Just as it says on the tin, really. I did cheat somewhat and serve my hen’s eggs and spinach on top of regular sliced wheat bread- sue me. It was a Sunday, my entire home smelled of fish and if you’d asked me to bake a loaf or fry some griddle breads, I’d have strangled you.

Spinach is something I eat regularly in my modern diet, so I didn’t feel like eating it up until the end of the week. Leafy green vegetables like spinach would probably have featured prominently in the yards of Jorvík inhabitants, as they grow well year-round and are incredibly nutrient dense. To quickly wilt spinach with a little garlic and toss them with eggs seems as plausible a way to eat it as any, though I may be biased as this is how I often enjoy it in the 21st century.




Dinner: Braised venison with blackberries and dried sour cherries, with veg (onions, garlic, celery, carrots, parsnips and pigeon stock.)

This was a special dish to end the week. I slowly braised the chopped venison steak over a low heat, adding dried sour cherries and fresh blackberries along with stock I made from the pigeon bones. The dried berries soaked up all the savoury stock and cooking juices from the venison, while imparting a woody sweetness to the dish. It went perfectly with the mixed veg I roasted alongside the meat.

This might have been quite a posh dish in period, with venison being a hunted meat and the dried cherries being imported from the continent. It certainly tasted decadent and I’d say that this is one of the dishes I would definitely make again, perhaps if friends came over to feast.

Closing note

This was most certainly a week. Despite frying everything in oil and butter, I actually lost 4lbs. I believe that this was due to my lack of appetite and most importantly due to cutting out much of the sugar in my diet. Weight loss was absolutely not my intention, but I’d be interested to see what would happen if I followed this kind of diet for a month instead. The lack of sugar had me feeling fatigued and generally pretty crappy for much of the week, but I think this would lessen if I’d have continued.

I found that my diet was pretty varied despite being (mostly) limited to the list above. Of course, it is important to remember that most Viking Age people would have eaten much of the same things most of the time, dependent on the season. It is a virtue of the modern age oft taken for granted that we can open the fridge and say “Huh, yesterday I had BBQ ribs, corn and mashed potatoes. I think today I’ll have a chicken dhansak.” This is a luxury that the huge majority of Early Medieval people simply didn’t have. They had the same kind of ingredients available to them during a given season and if they were lucky, they might zhuzh up a meal with the addition of a little something-something they caught or preserved earlier in the year.

The variety in my diet was a result of modern availability of foodstuffs year round and of refrigeration. Had I stuck to a week of bread and vegetable pottage with grains however, I doubt many of you would have found it all that interesting (the flatulence would have been astronomical, though.)

If I do repeat this week in the future, there’s quite a few ingredients that I didn’t get chance to use- these will come centre stage next time. I also avoided baking my own bread- I absolutely loathe making bread, but it would have no doubt been an essential part of most Medieval women’s day. So, I should probably make more of an effort to get my bake on next time! I’ll pay better attention to seasonality too. For now however, I am enjoying being able to indulge in spices, potatoes, chocolate and hot sauce. Not necessarily all at once.


References

Grimfrost. (2020). Viking Age food and cooking. [online video] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Io18i6Pfq_g. Last accessed 17th Jun 2021.

Priest-Dorman, C. (1999). Archaeological Finds of Ninth- and Tenth-Century Viking Foodstuffs. Available: https://www.cs.vassar.edu/~capriest/vikfood.html. Last accessed 17th Jun 2021.

Serra, D & Tunberg, H (2013). An Early Meal – a Viking Age Cookbook & Culinary Odyssey. Furulund, Sweden: Chronocopia Publishing. p1-192.

Wyrtig. (2015). The Lacnunga. Available: https://wyrtig.com/EarlyPlants/LacnungaPlants.htm. Last accessed 17th Jun 2021.

Bibliography

https://www.checkyourfood.com/ingredients/ingredient/716/ox-kidneys

Impressions: A Wealthy Anglo-Scandinavian Woman of Jorvík, Mid 10th Century

Location: Jorvík (York), England
Date: Mid to late 10th Century
Culture: Anglo Scandinavian
Estimated Social Class: Middle, wealthy urban

This will hopefully be the first of several speculative York impressions, built to showcase various artefacts and show how they potentially could have been worn/used in their day. It is not based on a grave nor is it to be taken as absolutely representative of the fashion of the place and time. My aim is to show a sensible and plausible outfit based on contemporary artefacts unearthed across York and give context to those remains and fragments.

Excuse my modern garden backgrounds, my 10th century longhouse was in the wash.

Starting from top to bottom:

Headscarf

My veil is a plain weave, pale blue wool scarf. It is not naturally dyed, but in shade it closely mimicks woad. Women are almost exclusively portrayed veiled in Early Medieval English art, yet few examples of such veils are represented in the archaeological record. Fine woollen scarves with tassels have been found in Dublin, dating to the early 10th to mid 11th centuries (Wincott Heckett, 2003, pp.9-43). My veil is closer in size to the larger examples found at VA Dublin, such as the silk scarf DHC17 from Fishamble Street (dated to the early 11th century) but matches most closely with contemporary English manuscript depictions in size.

I wear this scarf several different ways even within the same day, tossing the ends over my shoulders as and when it’s required. The weather was balmy when I took these photos, so pins and a fillet weren’t needed. On windier days or if I’m feeling a little more haughty and austere, I’ll pin my veil onto a cap worn underneath and sometimes a fillet. Period variation in wimple/veil style is supported by English manuscript depictions, which show several different styles were worn. Presumably this was down to preference, though of course it could be an indicator of class or piety.

I could talk all day long about headcoverings, suffice to say that I will cover them in greater detail in a future post if people wish.

Necklace of amber and jet

The whole necklace, threaded on a fine leather thonging.
One of the triangular amber pendants.

My necklace is made up of amber and jet, based on pendants and beads found at 16-22 Coppergate and other nearby sites. Extensive evidence for amber working in York was found at Clifford Street and 16-22 Coppergate, with fragments also being found at 22 Piccadilly and elsewhere on the Coppergate site (Mainman and Rogers, 2000). The wedge-shaped pendants I used are a little more rounded than the originals, but they can be replaced as and when I find a gemologist who will make me a more accurate replica. 😁 Many of the amber beads and pendants found at 16-22 Coppergate were dated to period 4B (c.930/5-c.975 AD.)

Found in (Mainman and Rogers, 2000, p.2507)
Found in (Mainman and Rogers, 2000, p.2589.)

The evidence for jet working at 16-22 Coppergate is definite, whether or not that evidence belongs to the Anglo-Scandinavian period is a subject of debate. Some items were found in Anglo-Scandinavian levels, but it has been argued that they were Roman items that ended up deposited in later levels through the passage of time. It does however remain possible that some of these jet items were indeed stratified correctly and I am working with that assumption.

The beads I used for my necklace are Whitby jet, dating to the late Victorian or early Edwardian period. They’d been reassembled into a new modern necklace, so I liberated them and used them for this project. Like their amber brethren, they are not perfect- they’re a little too spherical and neat. The jet finds from York consist of finger rings, bracelets, gaming pieces, pendants and manufacturing evidence (Mainman and Rogers, 2000). There was also an item identified as a bead (dated to the 5A period, approx 975 AD) but unfortunately it was stolen. I have included my beads in this impression based on the semi-worked fragments, the lost bead and the similar beads found in glass, amber and other materials.

Dress

The flower I am playing with is from my immortal woad plant, which is busy taking over my poor mum’s raised bed. I am pretending to be sorry about that.

My dress is made of a 2/2 chevron (herringbone) twill wool. I’ve dyed lots of wool blue using woad, but not this wool- it is chemically-dyed mimicking shades of a natural woad vat. It is handsewn by me with wool and linen thread. Textile fragments of broken chevron twill dyed with indigotin (the blue colour compound found in woad) were found at Coppergate, item number 1302 (Walton, 1989). The material was dated to period 4B, indicating a date of c.930/5-c.975 AD. It is described it thus:

“Fragments, largest 140 x 100mm, of mid brown 2/2 chevron twill, 8/Z/0.9 x 5-6/S/1.2 (Fig.134a). Yarn soft and unevenly spun. Fleece type, Z medium, S hairy. Dyed with indigotin. Hard concretions containing cess-like material adhere to parts of the textile.” (Walton, 1989)

In all the surviving textiles from Anglo-Scandinavian Jorvík, woad is represented but it is not the most common dyestuff. Madder- and bedstraw-dyed fragments are the most numerous by leaps and bounds, which indicates a distinctly English taste in Anglo Scandinavian York (I’ll discuss this at more length in a future article.) Woad however certainly did feature in the clothing of Jorvík city dwellers and I just so happened to have some suitable fabric leftover from a dress made for a dear friend many moons ago. Being a Yorkshire lass through and through, regardless of the century, I was using it.

No complete or near-complete garments have survived from Jorvík apart from the famous sock and several head-coverings. I therefore kept the pattern of my dress and undertunic as generic as possible. Women in contemporary English art are always shown wearing ankle length, long-sleeved garments, usually with some indication of skirted construction. It is believed that this might have been the case in Scandinavia too, with women in contemporary art there usually being shown to wear garments that are at least longer than men’s (Ewing, 2007).

An Anglo-Scandinavian cross fragment from All Saints Church in Weston (North Yorkshire), dated to the 9th century. It is believed to show a warrior with a female captive and be a reworking of an original Anglian cross. Source.

Towards the end of the Viking Age in England, the sleeves on women’s overgarments appear to have grown wider, with tight-sleeeved garments being seen peeking from underneath them. I kept the sleeves on my dress relatively close to the arm so it would be more suitable for earlier impressions, with the opportunity to dress it up later with the simple addition of a mantle or baggier-sleeved overdress.

It is also prudent to note that almost all of the women portrayed in contemporary English art were very high in social status or were religious figures. They represent an ideal of the most aristocratic and modest women, not the daughters and wives of merchants (even wealthy ones) who might have walked through Coppergate. So, my York lady may well have worn her dresses with baggier sleeves on special occasions but likely not to go to the market.

Details from various 10-11th century sources: Top left- Folio 10 of the Old English Illustrated Hexateuch, 11thC English. Top middle- Luxoria from Prudentius’ Psychomachia, late 10thC English. Top right- Detail of supplicants from the Benedictional of St Aethelwold, late 10thC English. Bottom left: Detail of Queen Emma from the New Minster Liber Vitae, 1031 AD English. Bottom middle left- Detail from the Bayeux Tapestry, late 11thC English (suspected.) Bottom middle right- Patentia also from Prudentius’ Psychomachia. Bottom right: Mary also from the New Minster Liber Vitae. Source.

Surviving remains of skirted tunics such as the Skjoldehamn, Haithabu and later Herjolfsnes finds show examples of how these women’s garments in the Viking Age could have been constructed. Due to cloth constraints and to better fit my body, I opted for bottle-shaped side gores starting at my underarm. This construction provided the correct period silhouette while remaining comfortable.

My undertunic (or serk) was made in a similar pattern, only in undyed linen with a plain round neckline and triangular gores.

Leather belt with dyed bone buckle

Source.

Over my dress, I wear a belt of dyed bone buckle. This is an unusual item, currently kept in the Yorkshire Museum. The museum lists it only as Anglo-Scandinavian and dating to between 866 and 1066. It is generally believed that Early Medieval women did not wear leather belts, either opting for textile belts that have rotted away since or foregoing belts altogether.

However, a 10th century grave of a woman in Cumwhitton (Cumbria) has challenged this assumption. One of the female graves contained a belt buckle and strap end, both made of copper alloy (Paterson, Parsons, Newman, Johnson & Howard Davis, 2014). I am fond of the York dyed buckle and since it was not found in a grave context, I feel comfortable including a leather belt as part of a wealthy female impression.

The Cumwhitton belt buckle from Grave 2. Source.

An interesting discussion of belt hardware surviving in female graves can be found in the bibliography. My replica of the belt and buckle was made by Sándor Tar on Facebook.

Leather turnshoes

Type 4a3 leather turnshoes.

On my feet, I wear leather shoes, based on the Style 4a3. They are of a turnshoe construction and made of vegetable tanned leather. This pair was made by Torvald’s Leather Workshop.

Shoes of Style 4a3 have been found at 16-22 Coppergate from the earliest layers of occupation (mid-late 9th century at the earliest) throughout the whole Anglo-Scandinavian period, but finds of this type are most numerous in the mid 10th century layers (Mould, Carlisle and Cameron, 2003). Shoes of this style were also found at nearby Hungate and fragments indicating this style have been found in Oxford also.

Style 4a3 shoes, image from Mould, Carlisle and Cameron, 2003, p.3306.

I love this style of shoe, I think they’re really cute and so evocative in their style of Viking Age fashion itself. The only problem? The pair I have have the flaps on the wrong side of the foot! A large group of the shoes found in Jorvík had flaps and toggles over the instep- fastening on the inside of the foot, not the outside. Mould, Carlisle and Cameron (2003) even acknowledge that it seems like toggles on the outside of the foot would be more practical, but I found the opposite to be the case when actually putting them on. I’m aiming to replace these shoes in the future with ones closer to the originals, but they are gorgeous nevertheless and being handmade they are very comfortable.

Underneath these shoes, I wore a pair of woollen naalbound socks, loosely based on the Coppergate socks. However, they have graciously served me for several years now in all weathers and are not fit to be seen. I will certainly cover the mighty Coppergate sock in the future though.

Who might have worn this?

The wife or daughter of a wealthy urban merchant perhaps, someone who had the cash spare to afford dyed garments such as my dress and scarf. Worked amber and jet beads too would likely have been status items, with amber being imported from abroad from the Roman period.

It is also possible that a wealthy woman from more rural areas could wear an outfit like this, the wife of a rich farmer perhaps. This is not the kind of clothing one wears during the working day however, so it would be relegated to Sunday best or feasting clothing (I suspect that this would also be the case for an urban woman.)

References

Ewing, T. (2007) Viking Clothing. Stroud: Tempus Publishing. p9-70.

Mainman, A. J. & Rogers, N. S. H. (2000). Craft, Industry and Everyday Life: Finds from Anglo-Scandinavian York. York: Council for British Archaeology. p2451-2671.

Mould, Q., Carlisle, I. & Cameron, E (2003). Craft, Industry and Everyday Life: Leather and Leatherworking in Anglo-Scandinavian and Medieval York. York: Council for British Archaeology. p3306-3310.

Paterson, C., Parsons, A. J, Newman, R. M, Johnson, N & Howard Davis, C. (2014) Shadows in the Sand: Excavation of a Viking-age cemetery at Cumwhitton, Cumbria. Oxford: Oxford Archaeology North.

Walton, P (1989). Textiles, Cordage and Raw Fibre from 16-22 Coppergate . York: Council for British Archaeology. p285-474

Wincott Heckett, E (2003). Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy. p9-43.

Bibliography

The entry for the dyed bone buckle from York in the York Museum Trust online collection. https://www.yorkmuseumstrust.org.uk/collections/search/item/?id=7484&search_query=bGltaXQ9MTYmc2VhcmNoX3RleHQ9QnVja2xlJlZWJTVCMCU1RD0mR3MlNUJvcGVyYXRvciU1RD0lM0UlM0QmR3MlNUJ2YWx1ZSU1RD04NjYmR2UlNUJvcGVyYXRvciU1RD0lM0MlM0QmR2UlNUJ2YWx1ZSU1RD0xMDY2JkZOPQ%3D%3D

An article on belt hardware present in female graves in the Viking Age. http://www.medieval-baltic.us/vikbuckle.html

A corpus of 10-11th century images of English clothing in art. http://www.uvm.edu/~hag/rhuddlan/images/index.html

More information about the All Saints Church cross fragment (Weston, North Yorkshire.) https://m.megalithic.co.uk/article.php?sid=26680

March Round-Up: What am I up to?

Evening all. Spring is here and getting into full swing. The weather here in York has been gorgeous the past few days, much to my joy- the return of the rule of 6 couldn’t have come at a better time.

In the meantime, I’ve spent the past month fairly quietly. Eric and I are having to move house in the next few months, so we’ve been on a mission to find somewhere new (still within York though!) My roots are here and they grow deep, so I won’t be moved out of the city quite so easily.

As usual, I’ve been working best I can on commission work. I’ve got a queue of patient customers waiting and so their items must always come first. I’m lucky to get asked to do a nice mix of interesting bits and old-faithful kit pieces, so each customer is different.

I do many, many of these plain linen tunics each year. I’m quite fond of them.
The customer wanted a bold red hood, a simplified design based on fragments found at Hedeby harbour. He wanted it lined in blue linen (we don’t have evidence for lined hoods, but he finds linen lining more comfortable) and so I used similar thread for a decorative seam treatment. I think it turned out nicely.

In my own time, I’ve been slogging away at a couple of different projects. Some are secret for now (I plan to give them their own articles in due course), some are just not all that exciting. I did manage to finally finish my own boy tunic at long last, which was a labour of love. I started it in early September using offcuts of leftover grey wool I had and intended it to be done in time for my walk from Riccall to Stamford Bridge. This obviously didn’t happen and I kept picking it up to do a seam here, a seam there. It is entirely handstitched and all the seams reinforced. It is extremely satisfying to manage to cobble together something useful from leftovers and perhaps even more so when the endeavour takes you a while. This one is an item I’ll probably write about and take some photos of, when I feel up to it.

All of the above are ongoing projects.

Anyway, that’s enough from me. To tell you the truth, I only logged in to write because I didn’t want to let March pass by without an update! It’s not been a month of note, but by no means have I been idle. 😁

I’ve got a few pieces I’ve been working on for a little while and I hope they’ll be of interest to some of you. Take care all, enjoy the nice weather while it lasts and keep washing your hands 😘

A Conversation with Popula Urbanum- Gender and Equality in Re-Enactment

Last month, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a message from my friend Nadeem (of the excellent Sogdian group Eran ud Turan), asking if I’d be willing to take part in a YouTube chat video about gender roles and inclusion in historical re-enactment. He’d previously taken part in a discussion on the same channel, discussing gate-keeping in the hobby and diversity.

I was flattered but very anxious to broach this topic. After all, I am both a living historian and a woman, but what could I have to add to the conversation?

We decided to just go for it and see where the conversation went. My gracious host and total legend Andrew (one half of Popula Urbanum) was a delight to talk to and we all enjoyed the discussion. Despite my constant umm-ing and ah-ing, we covered a couple of talking points relating to inclusion in the scene and how we can all go about mindfully considering how we might be coming across, both to the public and to our fellow re-enactors. If that sounds like your kind of thing, give it a watch!

Thanks for having me fellas, it was a pleasure!

Give some love to Andrew and Ocean over on their channel Popula Urbanum, they post regular videos on Medieval society, kit-making and re-enactment as a hobby. Nadeem is working on a photobook showcasing early Iranian fashion and artefacts, as well as regularly writing articles on his Patreon for Eran ud Turan– give him some love too!

If you found your way to my blog from this video, then hello and stay tuned. The Eoforwic Project is pretty new and I have a lot of big ideas to share with you all. To give you a “taste” of what you can expect very soon, I’ll leave you with this…



An 11th Century Man’s Hat from Dublin- A Parallel With Early Medieval Frisia?

Hats! One of my favourite things. The discerning Early Medieval woman (and those who wish to dress like one) seem to be relatively spoiled for choice: caps, hoods, veils, wimples and even headbands are all options. Unfortunately, the evidence for male headgear in period is generally not as well-represented. Chrystel R. Brandenburgh (2010) did a fantastic study of early textiles found in Frisia (a region in what is now the Netherlands) which details several hat fragments dated to the Viking Age, including an extremely spiffy example from Aalsum.


The original hat found in Aalsum (object nr. FM 33-373), in the collection of the Fries Museum. Photo taken from Brandenburgh (2010).

The Aalsum hat is dated to 750-900 AD, towards the end of the estimated habitation of the find site. It is woven in a 2/2 diamond twill and is made of brown wool with no dye being detected. While there are a couple of other hats from Frisia with some form of neck flap (presumably to shield the neck from the elements), I was interested by this hat. Nothing similar shows up in sources from the British Isles nor Ireland that I know of, either written or pictorial.

That is, until I saw this in one of my books on Viking Age Dublin.



Well. Hello, handsome.

This cute little guy is featured in Viking-Age Decorated Wood by James T. Lang, part of the Medieval Dublin Excavations 1962-81 series (page 32). A friend had mentioned this to me a few years ago, but we didn’t know anyone who had a copy to check. To my joy, I managed to snaffle one on eBay during the last lockdown and finally I was face-to-face with our lad.

He is described thusly:

“DW110. Small human head (gaming piece?) (E112:945) Christchurch Place (Fig.48)
In an antler pit, 26/1, contemporary with 11/1 platform. Late eleventh century.

H. 3.2 cm, D. 2.0 cm.

A primitive human head in a ‘Canterbury cap’. The eyes are mere dots.”


I hadn’t heard of a Canterbury cap before, so I Googled it. Turns out that this is a Canterbury cap, worn fetchingly by Archbishop Thomas Cranmer:



Hmmm. I’m not convinced. It’s not totally unlike the hat on the Dublin figurine, but I believe it to be distinct nevertheless. Other photos of Canterbury caps are just as different as Cranmer’s, they are much closer to a modern cardinal’s biretta than anything else. I would describe the Dublin figurine as having much in common with the Frisian Aalsum hat, despite there being an estimated 2 centuries between them (the Dublin figurine is put at late 11thC, meanwhile the Aalsum hat is dated to 750-900 based on the other objects found nearby.)

So, I decided to recreate a version of the Dublin figure’s hat, based on the earlier find from Aalsum. Bear in mind, this is highly speculative and something I did for fun. I do not believe that this one tiny late 11th century figurine is carte blanche for every Tumi, Ríkarðr and Halfdan to make them for their Danish or Anglo-Danish impressions. If you do find the Dublin figurine compelling, I would gently advise you to keep your hats for your late 11th century Dublin (or perhaps general Hiberno-Norse) outfits.



I actually made two hats- the first from some leftover red diamond twill and the second from some pinkish-lilac herringbone scraps. Both hats are made of wool and like the Aalsum find, they are not lined. I hemmed each piece individually with a rolled hem, then attached them all together with a whip stitch. Several of the Frisian hats were made in this way, as well as some of the woollen and silk caps from Dublin. It results in a strong and neatly constructed garment which is easy to fix if seams start to pull apart through wear.



Like every project, I learned as I went along. In future, I would cut the front piece of the hat a little shorter if I was really aiming for a Dublin figurine look. In addition to this, you can see in the photos of the red hat, there is a slight bunching at the front and the top seam had a habit of falling inwards slightly. This could be as a result of my pattern cutting (I drew out the oval for the top by hand) or indeed due to the nature of the whip stitched seam. I decided to try some decorative seam treatment on the second hat, both for aesthetic and structural purposes. I felt that it did remedy the caving-in issue somewhat due to giving it some more structure, plus it’s pretty. I used some woollen embroidery yarn that I had dyed with some of my homegrown woad, I think it gives a nice contrast to the pink-lilac.



Stitchwise, I opted for a chain stitch variant similar to the examples found on the hats from Dokkum, Oostrum and Leens. Most of these examples had a chain stitch that was visible on the outside of the hat and was done in a darker coloured thread, which would imply decorative contrast being the intent.

But the most important part: what is it like to wear? Well, my very own Dubgaill said he found this style of hat to be perfectly comfortable. He liked that it would protect the back of his neck from the elements and it’s cosy around the ears. That’s good enough for me!

I also had enough left of the pink herringbone to make myself a Dublin cap. We now have matching 10-11th century Irish hats, meaning we can be one of those sickening couples in both 2021 and 1021. Always good to know.



References:

Brandenburgh, C. R.. (2010). Early medieval textile remains from settlements in the Netherlands. An evaluation of textile production. Journal of Archaeology in the Low Countries. 2 (1), p41-79.

Flicke, G. (1545) Portrait of Thomas Cranmer. [Oil on panel] London: National Portrait Gallery. Found online at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thomas_Cranmer_by_Gerlach_Flicke.jpg

Lang, J. T. (1988). Viking-age Decorated Wood: A Study of Its Ornament and Style. Dublin: National Museum of Ireland. p32.


Welcome to my blog! An introduction.

Hello, dear readers.

My name is Leah and this is my blog, The Eoforwic Project. I am currently 25 years old, I am female, I use she/her pronouns and I am married. Nice to meet you!



I am Irish English and I grew up here in York, on the banks of the river Ouse and not far from the city centre. York is famous both nationally and internationally for being a Viking city- the Coppergate digs in the 1970s continuously made the news. I grew up attending the Jorvik Viking Festival every year (as a member of the public) and always dreamed of joining in. When I studied at the University of York, I got my chance- I dipped my toes into re-enacting with the Medieval Society. This led to my future husband and I starting our own band of Vikings with a friend- the rest is history. I’m now a thoroughly lost cause to living history, many of my friends do it and I even dragged my own kid brother into it. What’re ya gonna do?

It’s currently 2021 and after the shitfest that was 2020 (sorry, this isn’t an entirely family-friendly blog, whoops!), I decided to take the plunge and create this blog. Finally. A dear friend of mine kept a blog for his storytelling and his musings before his recent passing- he always encouraged me to start my own. I now wish I had done sooner, because I know he would be rooting for me.

So what is the aim of this blog and what can you expect?

I hope to show my current projects to you all, share interesting information about the Viking Age history of York and Dublin (my two hometowns)- not to mention to keep myself accountable. I have so many fascinating projects planned and several of them require a fair amount of research. It’s only more fun if I share that research with you all, so you yourselves can do your own digging and come to your own conclusions.

I must admit ahead of time though- I am not a historian nor an archaeologist. I have an academic background, holding a BA and MA by Research in Linguistics. I love research and many of the skills I have gained are transferable from one discipline to the next. I will always provide references for any historical or archaeological findings I discuss, but I myself do not have any qualifications in those areas (not yet, at least!) I am a happy hobbyist and am no expert.

What’s with the name?

Most of you reading will likely be interested in Early Medieval York or will be a Yorkie yourself, meaning you’ll know exactly where this name is from- if not, welcome! Eoforwīc or Eoforīc was the Old English name for my hometown York- from OE eofor meaning “boar” and wīc meaning “village” or “settlement.” This would have been the name used for the town by locals when the Vikings arrived, who instead dubbed it Jórvík “horse bay”.

Eoforwīc is pronounced alternately as “ey-off-er-witch” or “ever/effer-witch”- I use the second for the most part.


I think that’s all for now. If you are interested in Early Medieval York or Dublin, especially the archaeological evidence found in those places, you might like my blog! If you are also interested in historical fibre crafts, cookery and interpreting the evidence we have, you will almost definitely like my blog. If you’re one of my friends or family here for the ride, hello and thanks for being supportive.

Until next time!