This book presents the first survey of inland markets and smaller trading sites in Early Medieval Northern Europe between the seventh and ninth centuries. The period is one of considerable interest to social and economic historians, archaeologists and numismatists alike. Not only did it herald the revival of international trade networks after two centuries of disruption and upheavals during the Migration period. It also witnessed the emergence of a large-scale silver coinage, which was to act as a common currency for the kingdoms and peoples of the North Sea littoral. The scale and importance of this economic renewal can be seen most vividly in the sudden emergence of the great emporia or wics, which sprang up along the coasts of Northern Europe. These extensive international trading stations, such as Hamwic, Dorestad and Quentovic, with their large amounts of coinage and foreign goods, have long been at the centre of studies of Early Medieval markets and trade (among others see Jankuhn et al. 1973; Hodges and Hobley 1988; Hodges 1989a; Clarke and Ambrosiani 1991; and most recently Hill and Cowie 2001).
However, despite their undoubted importance, it is becoming increasingly clear that the emporia were not the only sites acting as markets or actively participating in international and regional trade between the seventh and ninth centuries. An expanding body of archaeological and numismatic evidence, mostly derived through metal-detecting, has not only begun to reveal the existence of many smaller, less well-documented trading places during this period. It has also started to challenge the notion that such rural sites were of little importance to the economic system as a whole (contra Hodges and Whitehouse 1983, 92 and 101).
It was with the aim of redressing this longstanding imbalance in research at a European level, and drawing together recent advances made in the study of smaller, more rural, trading sites, that a conference on ‘The Archaeology of Inland Markets, Fairs, and “Productive” Sites’ was held at Worcester College, Oxford, in December 2000. There were three major objectives.
The first was to survey and assess the current knowledge of the so-called ‘productive’ sites of Anglo-Saxon England. This term (which remains archaeologically somewhat unsatisfactory) was first used by numismatists during the 1980s, when a boom in metal-detecting activity in England led to the discovery of new types of sites yielding unusually large quantities of coins and sometimes metalwork (for example, Booth and Blowers 1983; Blackburn and Bonser 1986, 65–80). However, as many of the following essays show, a lack of systematic archaeological investigation frequently left the function or interpretation of such places unclear. A first attempt at assessing these sites was made at an important symposium on ‘productive’ sites organized by Mark Blackburn and Michael Metcalf in Oxford in 1989. Unfortunately, the proceedings of the 1989 meeting were never published (Blackburn, this volume), although some of the important papers delivered then have since been circulated privately (for instance Blackburn, Rogerson and Margeson, unpublished).
The continued recovery of material from known ‘productive’ sites, the discovery of important new examples, and the opportunities for more detailed archaeological investigations in the intervening eleven years, have provided the chance to revisit the entire question of ‘productive’ sites and their interpretation. A key objective of the Worcester College conference was therefore to bring together and publish all of the latest evidence for ‘productive’ sites in England, many for the first time, and to develop and assess new strategies for the study and interpretation of these mainly metal-detected sites. Given some of the recent debates surrounding the term ‘productive’ site, it should be pointed out that it is used in this volume to refer to ‘places, whether excavated or metal-detected, that produce large quantities of coin and metalwork finds’ (Ulmschneider 2000b, 62–3).
It is the large scale of the coinage found on ‘productive’ sites, second only to that of the great emporia, which, together with their location along major lines of transport and communication, first led to the suggestion that they represent the places of former markets, fairs and/or settlements involved in trade (Metcalf 1984a, 27 and 41). Despite having been known to exist for some time now, the recognition and acceptance of ‘productive’ sites in the literature has generally been slow. For instance, their discussion is notably lacking in McCormick’s monumental Origins of the European Economy (2001), and with the exception of John Moreland’s contribution, finds little space in Hansen and Wickham’s recent The Long Eighth Century (2000).
Much of this problem stems from the unusual circumstances under which these sites have been revealed and the unconventional recovery of their finds. Because most ‘productive’ sites have been identified by hobby metal-detecting, there has been a general lack of controlled archaeological excavation. As a result, the artefacts recovered not only lack archaeological context, but, perhaps even more unsatisfactorily, they almost always represent only a small proportion of the range of finds that might be expected from such sites. Metal-detectorists generally screen out non-ferrous metalwork in their searches, and not all of them choose to recover other classes of object seen on the surface, such as ceramics. This highly selective recovery strategy, naturally, is at variance with any archaeological research agenda, and has contributed to the tension between some archaeologists and detector users. One of the greatest remaining challenges for archaeologists is to persuade all finders to submit their finds for archaeological examination and to provide accurate findspots for their material (Lewis 2002, 332). Often, the disclosure of such data has depended upon the personal initiative of archaeologists who over the years have built up close contacts with local metal-detectorists. It is only since the later 1990s that this process of liaison has become more formalised with the introduction of the Portable Antiquities Scheme in England and Wales, which employs archaeologists to seek out metal-detectorists and convince them of the need to have their finds and sites recorded (Hobbs 2001).*
Even when both finds and findspots become known to archaeologists, the research and discussion of metal-detected sites can still be hampered by the requirement to keep certain find locations secret for fear of being looted by unscrupulous ‘nighthawks’.
This unsatisfactory situation has meant that there have been few opportunities to consider the archaeological nature of metal-detected ‘productive’ sites. While some archaeologists have as a result remained extremely cautious about metal-detectorists and their finds (and others have even seemed to demonise them – see for example the naïve comments of Langford 2002), the vast majority now agree that these finds have an enormous potential for archaeological research, which has yet to be fully realised and can no longer be ignored (Ulmschneider 2000a, 101; Pestell 2001b, 52; Lewis 2002, 333). This may be seen no more clearly than in the important discussions of Early Medieval trade and economics by James Campbell and Mark Blackburn (both this volume).
It is not only in England, however, that metal-detector finds, excavations, and historical research have begun to challenge fundamentally our understanding of trade and the economy in the Early Medieval period. The second major objective of the Worcester College conference, and its proceedings presented here, has been to compare, for the first time, developments in Britain with those on the Continent and in Scandinavia. By its nature such a survey and comparison cannot be exhaustive and has been based on a selection of recent or ongoing research projects undertaken in six European countries including the Netherlands, Denmark, Germany, France, Italy, and Scandinavia. The aim has been not only to exchange new research, ideas, and methodologies across the North Sea, but to re-ignite the debate on Early Medieval markets and trade on a European basis.
It will be immediately apparent that there are great differences in the research material and approaches between the different countries. For example, the Netherlands and Denmark, like England, have experienced the large-scale impact of metal-detecting. Denmark in particular has been at the forefront of collecting and utilizing the new information thus recovered, with many of the metal-detected sites being followed up with large-scale excavations ( Jørgensen, this volume). These are providing archaeologists with crucial evidence about the varying nature and functions of economic sites, and are starting to reveal an hitherto unsuspected complexity and structure to Early Medieval settlements, the economy and society. This work stands in stark contrast to many other European countries, such as Germany, France and Italy, where metal-detecting as a hobby remains largely illegal. Here important discoveries continue to be made through more traditional detailed, and often extensive, excavations and historical research, which allow rare insights into the network, contacts, and seasonality of market and trading sites, and their development over time (for instance Le Maho; Moran, this volume).
Finally, a third objective of the Worcester College conference was to establish a broad, interdisciplinary forum for discussing economic sites comprising archaeologists, numismatists and historians of the period. With the explosion of data available through metal-detector finds, trade and the economy has become one of the fastest moving fields in Early Medieval studies. As the papers in this volume show, its importance cannot be overemphasised. Equally, it is becoming clear that only a multi-disciplinary approach with an integrated research agenda will allow a fuller appreciation of the complex and sophisticated pattern of marketing, exchange, and trading-place hierarchies.
At present archaeologists are only just beginning to understand and utilise the new sources that are becoming available. Central to any advance will be the continued refinement of data on coin-use and circulation. As Blackburn points out (this volume), the popularity of metal-detecting is revolutionising our knowledge of European coinage. His study of coin-loss patterns in England demonstrates a sudden burst in monetary activity around 700 with a volume of currency in circulation unparalleled in England until the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. Not only does this pattern appear to reflect wider European trends, on a more specific level it has provided new ways of comparing sites, raising the possibility that future research will be able to understand local and regional economic activity and interactions between sites. Already, the newly-developed statistical approaches of Michael Metcalf (2001 and this volume) are enabling the identification of areas of particular coin-loss and therefore coin-use. These, for example, may not only help to point to the location of mints which currently remain unidentified, but they can also highlight the importance of certain hinterland areas (and their resources) into which coins diffused from a market and mint place. The information from such studies will be of obvious importance to economic, political and social historians. For instance, the identification of more-or-less isolated ‘hot-spots’ of coin finds, as for example the primary porcupine sceattas in parts of the upper Thames valley, not only raises interesting questions about trade-routes and the way money was transferred into the region, but also potentially indicates the economic importance of the wool trade in the chalklands of the region already by the late seventh century, well in advance of our first documentary evidence of the mid eighth century (Metcalf, this volume).
Another theme which will need to be reassessed in the light of new discoveries is the thorny question of the influence of political power on the economy, and the extent of political control over coinage, markets and trade. This, of course, is a problem already long familiar from the study of the emporia (Palmer, this volume). Political power could clearly have a profound effect on the development and fate of a market and settlement. In her discussion of Groß Strömkendorf, Astrid Tummuscheit (this volume) shows how this settlement may be identified with the emporium of Reric, mentioned s.a. 808 in the Royal Frankish Annals. Excavations suggest that Groß Strömkendorf’s layout was structured in part by a central authority, especially from c. 770–90. That the Danish king Godfred came to relocate all the merchants to Hedeby over 130km away provides an ample demonstration of the importance of controlling economic exchange. An essentially similar phenomenon is expounded by Jacques Le Maho in his analysis of Rouen (this volume). From an organic landscape of ports and small trading places in the Lower Seine, many owned and run by monasteries, the political circumstances of Viking raids and settlement were to induce a profound change. While Rouen itself survived, becoming a refuge from Scandinavian raiders, the shifting balance of power saw the extension of royal control over the city and its development as an urban centre.
But how far did such political control reach? Metcalf draws attention to the eighth-century monetary economy being regionally integrated, but also displaying a free movement of currency between regions and kingdoms, while Blackburn can find no real evidence for political circumstances affecting the pattern of coin loss on three geographically and functionally very different trading sites (both this volume). In some cases attempts at gaining control of trading sites may have involved their relocation to more permanent positions. For instance, Lund’s ‘Fair of the Three Mounds’ was probably transferred from an earlier site at Uppåkra (Sawyer, this volume). However, many other Scandinavian markets and fairs seem to have been based on Lunar cycles and pre-Christian religious festivals, or simply grew up around temporary cult sites. Lars Jørgensen’s discussion of the spectacular aristocratic site at Lake Tissø in Denmark provides an important example of how a settlement with workshops and a large market area may have been attracted to a site of former cult activity, in this case based around ‘the lake of Tyr’. The monumental halls revealed by excavation at Tissø are not only comparable with the royal settlement of Lejre near Roskilde on Zealand, but possibly represent an extension of royal control and occupation over former religious practice and economic activity.
The extent to which social control by either secular leaders or religious institutions could provide a motor for trade and economic development is another important question raised by the presence of smaller ‘productive’ and inland trading sites. While the concept of planned emporia of Hodges ‘Type B’ is familiar to Early Medieval economic historians (Hodges 1989a, 51–2), the nature of ‘productive’ sites at present remains very much open to debate. For many scholars, the crucial role of the Church looms large. At San Vincenzo al Volturno, it was the presence of a monastery that was responsible for the assembly of tile, glass and metalworkers, and the subsequent production of a range of prestige goods such as belt buckles and bridle furniture (Mitchell 1994b; Moran, this volume). Similarly, many English sites such as Coddenham in Suffolk, Wormegay in Norfolk and that ‘near Carisbrooke’ on the Isle of Wight have been related to a former ecclesiastical presence (Newman; Rogerson; Ulmschneider, this volume; see also Palmer). A religious component can be clearly demonstrated by the eleventh century at many former ‘productive’ sites, as is the case in East Anglia (Pestell, this volume) and the role of the Church as a force in economic development in the eighth and ninth centuries is perhaps best championed in the work of John Blair (Blair 1996a and forthcoming).
However, it is becoming apparent that success in trade need not necessarily have been the sole preserve of ecclesiastics. Caroline Tulp’s consideration of the terp at Wijnaldum (this volume) suggests so far nothing other than a purely secular settlement involved in trade, yet manufacturing and consuming prestige goods. Likewise, Kevin Leahy’s analysis of the ‘productive’ site at Melton Ross found ‘most of the main elements of Middle Anglo-Saxon administration, the main omission being the absence of any direct evidence for an ecclesiastical function’ (this volume). The difficulty of clearly identifying the religious or secular nature of even well-excavated ‘productive’ sites is perhaps best reflected in the current English debate over the identification of Brandon in Suffolk and Flixborough in Lincolnshire as ‘monasteries’, and over the early structures at Northampton and Cheddar as ‘royal palaces’ (Carr et al. 1988; Blair 1992, 261–4 and 1996b; Pestell forthcoming). Indeed, there now seems to be a distinct possibility that sites such as Flixborough may have changed in nature several times during their lifetime (Loveluck 2001, 121). Such detailed archaeological studies unfortunately remain very rare at the moment, but they should alert us to a potentially much greater complexity and structure in Early Medieval settlements and the economy, a theme which has already started to become apparent from the study of metal-detected sites in Denmark ( Jørgenson, this volume).
While the impact and involvement of secular and religious elements in the promotion of local and inter-regional markets and trade remains to be elucidated, the overriding importance of good geographical locations and in particular maritime and riverine communication routes for the development of markets cannot be doubted. This seems to hold true not only for virtually all of the Anglo-Saxon ‘productive’ sites, but also for those rare examples identified in the Celtic West, which, as David Griffiths shows, share many characteristics with their English and European counterparts. As examples, Meols on the Wirral peninsula stands on the conjunction of two river systems facing the Irish Sea, while Glyn, Llanbedrgoch, on the Isle of Anglesey, stands at the centre of the Irish Sea region (Griffiths, this volume). In the east of England the clustering of sites in south-east Suffolk has led Newman to see a ‘productive landscape’ connected by the Lark/Gip-ping valley corridor to the equally ‘productive’ region of West Norfolk, while Le Maho has illustrated the importance of a major navigable river in the development of ports along the Lower Seine. Likewise, Stuart Brookes’s analysis of Kent has shown the coastal distribution of high coin-loss areas, consonant with a model of coastal trading with ‘gateway communities’ providing access to imported goods.
This broad picture is, again, likely to mask a much greater variety and complexity of choices in the location of markets and trading sites, which will provide ample scope for future research. For example, the site of Melton Ross in Lincolnshire lay inland at a junction of regional pathways, while the settlement at Hollingbourne was situated on the cross-roads of routeways linking the territories of East and West Kent (Leahy; Brookes, this volume). Similarly, analysis of the local geography and geology of an inter-regional and perhaps international market site ‘near Carisbrooke’ on the Isle of Wight, has suggested that easy access to a navigable river seems to have been of secondary importance in the choice of its location, the site instead being situated three kilometres inland, close to a fording point at the junction of three very different ecological zones (Ulmschneider, this volume).
It will only be through more detailed topographical work and a full programme of archaeological excavations that some of the most stubborn elements in the interpretation of many ‘productive’ sites – their precise nature and the wide variety of places that this term invariably encompasses – will eventually be teased out. One of the main difficulties in assessing these sites at present remains our inability to ascertain accurately the nature and intensity of occupation on any site, and its development over time. It is perfectly conceivable that many ‘productive’ sites were only temporary fairs. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that some of the recovered assemblages closely reflect those found on more permanent settlements. The excellent communication links which most ‘productive’ sites had make it unsurprising that they might develop as central places, acting as foci not simply for trade and exchange, but production, consumption and, like Melton Ross in Lincolnshire, administration and justice. The very notion of which elements came first or should take the lead in their interpretation – trading site, administrative centre (such as the caput to local landholdings or as a multiple-estate centre) or religious estate – is therefore difficult. In a radical reassessment, based on his fieldwork at Cottam, Julian Richards (1999a and b, and this volume) has suggested that they need not be any or all of these but may simply represent ‘normal’ settlements which have seen above-average metaldetecting activity. While Richards’ argument may be contradicted by the number of ‘productive’ sites known from elsewhere to have had a visible importance by Domesday, his approach is important in questioning our terms of reference. Just how much material must a site yield to be called ‘productive’? And upon what types of artefact must such a definition be made?
There remains a desperate shortage of the sorts of detailed data needed to allow better interpretations of the likely multivariate functions of such economically important sites, and their role within the hierarchy of Early Medieval markets and other settlement types. These problems should not be seen as insurmountable. Important new approaches in the study of settlement and economic hierarchies in England are already beginning to emerge, from large-scale fieldwalking such as John Newman’s work for the East Anglian Kingdom Survey and Paul Blinkhorn’s detailed study of Ipswich ware (Newman 1992; Blinkhorn 1999). Similarly, Ben Palmer’s and Stuart Brookes’ studies in this volume act as important signposts as to how detailed temporal and spatial analysis, aided by Geographical Information Systems (GIS) models, can help us to understand the wide variety of, and interactions between, sites involved in the economy and trade, and provide crucial information on their origins and development against the background of the landscape.
With so much of the study of inland markets and ‘productive’ sites still in its infancy, what might we expect in the future? As this book shows, the vast body of new archaeological and numismatic evidence derived through metal-detecting in countries such as England and Denmark has allowed the identification of an hitherto unsuspected network of inland markets and other sites involved in trade. This is providing archaeologists with an unprecedented opportunity not only to reconsider the complexities of the Early Medieval economy, but also to study its influence on settlement hierarchy and on Early Medieval society at large. Our prime agenda in Britain must now be both to harness successfully the information from these dramatic new datasets, and even more importantly, to lobby for a programme of large-scale excavations of such metal-detected sites, to shed light on key aspects such as their possibly seasonal nature, their varying functions and status, and their development over time. On the present evidence, these questions simply cannot be answered. The need is all the more pressing given the immediacy and scale of destruction occurring on most rural archaeological sites in the United Kingdom through agricultural activity. There is a real danger now that without the excavation of a representative selection of those endangered archaeological sites our chance of fully understanding and assessing the ‘productive’ site phenomenon will be irretrievably lost.
Equally as important – if not more so – is the need now to view and compare the English findings against the background of developments elsewhere in Northern Europe. As this book shows, the identification of new market and trading sites by metal-detector is not just rife in the United Kingdom, but is also a prominent feature of Danish, Dutch, and, more recently, Swedish archaeology (Hårdh 2000). The systematic excavations on such sites, together with ongoing large-scale research projects on known trading sites and the much greater abundance of Continental written sources, provide a wealth of data from which archaeologists must develop a more integrated and European-wide research agenda for the study of smaller markets and fairs. It is only through such an integrated and multi-disciplinary approach, that we will really begin to appreciate the complex and sophisticated pattern of marketing, trade and exchange in seventh-to ninth-century Europe. Each contributor makes this case in their own fashion, but the broader message of this volume is unequivocal. The study of inland markets and ‘productive’ sites has begun fundamentally to challenge and rewrite the history of the economy of Early Medieval Europe.
* According to the most recent annual report of the Portable Antiquities Scheme,39,346 objects were recorded in the twelve months from October 1999 to September 2000. However, the 1,788 finders apparently responsible for this material are well short of the estimated 13–30,000 metal-detector enthusiasts in Britain (Hobbs 2001, 25 and n. 1).