Abingdon charters (with document number)

Charters of Abingdon Abbey, ed. S. E. Kelly (Anglo-Saxon Charters vii–viii, 2000–1)

D H II (with document number)

Die Urkunden Heinrichs II. und Arduins, ed. H. Bresslau (Monumenta Germaniae Historica: Diplomata regum et imperatorum Germaniae iii, 1900–3)

D O III (with document number)

Die Urkunden Otto des III., ed. T. Sickel (Monumenta Germaniae Historica: Diplomata regum et imperatorum Germaniae ii/2, 1893)

EME

Early Medieval Europe

HBS

Henry Bradshaw Society

KCD (with document number)

Codex diplomaticus ævi Saxonici, ed. J. M. Kemble, London 1839–48

Peterborough charters (with document number)

Charters of Peterborough Abbey, ed. S. E. Kelly (Anglo-Saxon Charters xiv, 2009)

Rochester charters (with document number)

Charters of Rochester, ed. A. Campbell (Anglo-Saxon Charters i, 1973)

Sawyer (with document number)

P. H. Sawyer, Anglo-Saxon charters: an annotated list and bibliography, London 1968, in its revised form available online at http://www.esawyer.org.uk/

Early medieval kings are notoriously hard to approach; the perennial lack of source material, along with the religious bias in the preservation of almost all surviving written sources, often make it impossible to pin down with any certainty the thoughts and feelings of rulers. As Timothy Reuter observed, early medieval kingship is rather like ‘a black box: there are visible inputs and outputs, but the internal functioning by which the first are converted into the second is all too often not available for our scrutiny and our analysis’.Footnote ¹ These traditional problems are encountered in full force in the case of King Æthelred ii of England (better known to posterity as Æthelred ‘the Unready’): all detailed narratives of his reign which might be said to give any sense of Æthelred ‘the man’ were written after his death with hindsight, telescoping the course of events and portraying Æthelred's ultimate failure as a direct result of personal incompetence.Footnote ² These accounts cannot, therefore, be taken as an accurate or fair representation of events and consequently Æthelred's reign must be reconstructed on the basis of the much scantier contemporary evidence provided by charters, law-codes and coinage; sources which help us to escape the defeatist tone of later writers, but which rarely give more than the broadest impression of the workings of kingship. Indeed, Simon Keynes admitted in the preface to his ground-breaking study of Æthelred's reign that

Any opportunity, therefore, to approach Æthelred, to obtain even ‘the faintest idea’ of what he might have been like, is to be welcomed. In what follows I wish to argue that there are a few points at which this may become possible. In particular, I believe that a series of extraordinary documents in which Æthelred seeks to atone for his ‘youthful indiscretions’ provide insights not only into political manoeuvring at court, but also into Æthelred's own thoughts and beliefs; I believe that these might well represent – perhaps at a slight remove – the king's own ‘voice’.

The documents that I have in mind have already been studied in detail for what they reveal about court factions and political developments.Footnote ⁴ They constitute a series of restitutions issued in the years after 993 to religious houses the lands and rights of which Æthelred and others had appropriated between 984 and 993. What appears to have happened is that in Æthelred's earliest years, up to 984, an informal ‘regency’ ruled in the young king's name, led by Queen Ælfthryth, Bishop Æthelwold and Ealdorman Ælfhere; however, upon the death of Æthelwold in 984, Æthelred took the reins of power himself and actively distanced himself from the policies of this ‘regency’. Æthelred's mother Ælfthryth thereafter disappears from diploma witness lists – whether she was ejected from court or chose to leave is unclear, but either way her opposition to and distance from the prevailing régime is evident enough – and Æthelred and his advisors followed a policy of despoiling religious houses, particularly houses associated with Æthelwold and the Benedictine reform movement, including the Old Minster Winchester, Abingdon, Glastonbury and Rochester. However, later Æthelred came to regret these deeds; it would seem that a combination of the cattle plague of 986 and the ever-increasing viking attacks led the young king to conclude that he had incurred divine displeasure and it would not have taken long for him to find a possible cause: the confiscation of church rights and lands which he had practised over the preceding years.Footnote ⁵

Events seem to have come to a head in the early 990s and no known diplomas were issued in 991 and 992, perhaps suggesting that this was a moment of crisis. When, in 993, the stream of royal charters resumes, it is with Æthelred's first act of restitution, his first move to undo his youthful misdeeds. This document is programmatic of the policies that Æthelred was to pursue in the following years: it is the first diploma in which his mother, Ælfthryth, reappears at court; the council from which it stems was held at Winchester, Æthelwold's old see; and Æthelred promised to return lands to Abingdon, Æthelwold's old monastery. The king's return to the more reform-minded politics of his father, mother and sometime advisor Æthelwold could hardly be clearer.Footnote ⁶ In the text of the diploma Æthelred describes the background to the privilege in a lengthy narratio.Footnote ⁷ He explains how the death of Æthelwold had been a great loss ‘to myself and my nation’ (‘michi meaeque nationi’) and how thereafter things had gone awry. When Æthelred came to search for the cause of the problems that the kingdom was encountering, he comments that certain youthful actions came to mind: he remembered how, led astray by his advisors, particularly by Bishop Wulfgar and Ealdorman Ælfric – whose son Ælfgar was blinded in 993, the year this diploma was issuedFootnote ⁸ – he had been guilty of simony, of selling the post of abbot to a relative of Ealdorman Ælfric and thereby contravening the monks’ right of free election. However, now wishing to be freed from the ‘terrible anathema’ (‘exhorrendo anathemate’) that he had incurred, Æthelred explains that he called together a council at Winchester at Pentecost, at which he publicly admitted to wrongdoing, promising to undo his previous actions and to restore Abingdon's liberty in the hope of receiving God's mercy. This is one of Æthelred's most detailed explanations of his youthful wrongdoing and, although it is not stated that he went so far as to perform penance, that he was repentant is made abundantly clear.Footnote ⁹ The entire narrative section is filled with personal details: Æthelred mentions the process of thought which led him to ascribe the present ills affecting England to his earlier actions, he recalls the names of the counsellors who misled him, and he expresses his desire to be freed from the curse that he has incurred.

This public commitment to rectifying what Æthelred generally refers to as the ignorance of his youth can be found in a number of restitutions issued over the following years. The next of these, in favour of St Andrew's, Rochester, was issued two years later in 995.Footnote ¹⁰ This document does not go into the same detail as the first charter, but does mention the excessive neglect of Æthelred's youth and the ignorance that he then showed, which the king has now been able to rectify since he has achieved maturity. As before, Æthelred's personal interest in restoring lands is evident: he has done wrong and now that he has attained a sufficient age to understand the implications of this, he feels the need to correct his youthful error. Two years later, at Easter 997, Æthelred issued a restitution to the Old Minster, Winchester, in which he expresses similar sentiments.Footnote ¹¹ This diploma contains a narratio similar to those in the two previous documents, in which Æthelred admits to having taken land from the Old Minster on account of his immoderate youth; now, however, admonished by his advisors and fearing apostolic wrath, the king promises to return that land which he had unjustly possessed. Here again Æthelred's personal guilt and fear is clear, as is its cause: the immoderate actions of his youth.

These themes are returned to at greater length in the next diploma, a second restitution to Rochester, issued at Easter 998.Footnote ¹² This charter revisits Æthelred's wrongdoing in a detail not seen since the first charter of the series: Æthelred again explains about his youth and the role of bad counsellors, particularly Æthelsige, who had taken advantage of the king's youth and obtained permission to despoil St Andrew's, leading Æthelred to commit a grievous crime. Nevertheless, the king maintains that his actions were performed ‘not so much cruelly as ignorantly’ (‘non tam crudeliter quam ignoranter’) and he explains that he has since deprived Æthelsige of office and he promises to restore the relevant lands to Rochester. The diploma then reaches a crescendo with the following details:

What is significant here is the verb peneteo, ‘I repent, I do penance’. That penitential contrition is intended is further suggested by the wording of the rest of this passage. Æthelred's conscience is pricked by contrition (he is compunctus), and he wishes to receive the lacrimas penitentiae; compunctio rather than contritio was generally associated with penitential contrition in this period, whilst the tears of penance were an important further sign of contrition, an indication that repentance was not undertaken cynically.Footnote ¹⁴ The final phrase of this passage, quoting Ezekiel xxxiii.11 to the effect that God does not desire the death of a sinner, is a classic penitential motif, which can be found in contemporary rites for the reconciliation and absolution of penitents.Footnote ¹⁵ The wording of this quotation, ‘nolo mortem peccatorum, sed conuertatur et uiuat’, is not that of the Vulgate translation of the Bible, which renders this passage ‘nolo mortem impii sed ut revertatur impius a via sua et vivat convertimini’, but that of the Old Latin Bible, which was presumably known to the draftsman either from the liturgy of penance itself or from the Rule of St Benedict, which also preserves this older rendering.Footnote ¹⁶ Æthelred's actions in restoring St Andrew's lands and more generally in returning lands and liberties to churches and monasteries represent both repentance for his youthful misdeeds and a reconfirmation of his support for Benedictine monasticism and it is therefore particularly à propos that he should here quote a line found both in the liturgy of penance and the Rule of St Benedict.

Æthelred's final penitential actions took the form of a further diploma in favour of Abingdon, datable 990×1006 (probably c. 999).Footnote ¹⁷ This grant is rather more complicated than the previous ones; it is not a simple restitution, and though a degree of guilt on Æthelred's behalf is acknowledged, it is somewhat less apologetic in tone. The king explains in the diploma's narratio that he had been granted lands during the reign of his brother Edward ii (‘the Martyr’) which his father Edgar had previously donated to Abingdon. The reason for confiscating these lands and passing them on to Æthelred was that they were traditionally allocated to the æthelings and thus belonged to the fisc.Footnote ¹⁸ As such Æthelred's guilt lay less in receiving these lands – which, incidentally, he does not return to the abbey and would remain in the hands of the fisc – than in not compensating Abingdon for them.Footnote ¹⁹ The king notes that now that he has obtained a sufficient age to understand this mistake, he has seen fit to grant a series of estates in compensation, hoping thereby to be freed from the malediction that he has incurred by receiving lands that his father had previously granted to the monastery. Thus, while less explicitly penitential, this charter frames itself as part of the same process of correcting the king's youthful errors that we have seen in the other documents.

Taken as a whole these charters bear witness to what Catherine Cubitt and I argue was a ‘penitential programme’ instituted by Æthelred over these years.Footnote ²⁰ Their wording makes Æthelred's guilt evident, even if it is mitigated by his youth. The tone of the documents does vary somewhat: some, such as Sawyer, 876, which begins the series, or no. 893, which brings it to a new high point, are more repentant and provide more personal detail than others. Nevertheless, all of these diplomas express a pressing need to make good previous misdeeds and all express a very personal fear of the possible consequences of Æthelred's youthful folly. The rhetoric of these documents is, therefore, very much unified and their narrative sections return to the same concepts time and again: Æthelred mentions his youth as a cause of error in all of these charters, and in four of the five he notes that reaching a more mature age has enabled him to understand the wrong that he has done and to undertake measures to undo it;Footnote ²¹ in three of the documents Æthelred's explicit fear of the Apostles whom he may have offended in the process of confiscating church rights and lands is noted – a not insignificant matter, since it was the Apostles who held the power of binding and loosing;Footnote ²² in two of these charters specific reference is then made to the fetters or nets of ignorance from which Æthelred wishes to be loosed;Footnote ²³ in two further documents Æthelred makes arrangements for the destruction of any previous charters which might stand against the restitution;Footnote ²⁴ and also in two of the diplomas he explicitly refers to the maledictions that he has incurred by taking lands and rights booked by his ancestors.Footnote ²⁵ Although naturally a few of these sentiments are only to be found in diplomas either from Rochester or Abingdon,Footnote ²⁶ this likely reflects the small sample size rather than any localized interests. Indeed, what is so striking is that most of these concepts are to be found in diplomas across all three archives, which strengthens the impression that their source is to be sought at court.

That a unity of thought and purpose lies behind these grants therefore seems undeniable. What, however, is most compelling is that these thoughts are almost certainly to be ascribed to the king himself. This may seem a bit of a leap and previous commentators have understandably been more cautious, arguing that these documents reflect court ideas, but not necessarily (nor directly) Æthelred's own thoughts.Footnote ²⁷ Nevertheless, Æthelred's agency can, I would suggest, reasonably be inferred. On a purely practical level, it seems unthinkable that anyone save Æthelred would wish to include such personal information in these diplomas; detailed narrationes, although more common in this period, are not a standard feature of Anglo-Saxon diplomatic and it is hard to imagine a draftsman having the gall to include such potentially incriminating details independently. Moreover, the personal tone of these documents is to the best of my knowledge unparalleled in the corpus of Anglo-Saxon royal charters. At many points they dwell on Æthelred's personal thoughts, memories and emotions: the king looks fondly back on Æthelwold, he derides Wulfgar, Ælfric and Æthelsige who led him astray and he fears the curses that he has incurred. It is, therefore, fairly safe to exclude the possibility that the narrative sections of these diplomas were the product of an individual draftsman's peccadilloes. Indeed it is my impression – and it can remain little more than that, since only one of these charters (Sawyer, 876) survives as an originalFootnote ²⁸ – that these documents were not the products of a single draftsman and might have each been products of different draftsmen.Footnote ²⁹ The variation in formulation between these documents is notable, even in their proems and sanctions, where we might anticipate the recycling of formulae. In fact, the only significant similarities are to be found in the narrative sections discussing Æthelred's misdeeds and even here most of the parallels are thematic. Thus neither the idiosyncrasies of an individual draftsman can explain the attention that these documents give to Æthelred's youthful misdeeds, nor can local interests, since they are preserved in multiple archives. That these ideas came from the king himself therefore seems probable and this should hardly surprise: the penitential sentiments expressed could only reasonably serve a royal agenda, as they seek to explain Æthelred's actions to a local audience.

The one significant verbal parallel within this series deserves attention. This formulaic link is to be found in the first two diplomas, Sawyer, 876 and 885, both of which contain similar constructions referring to the king's youth.Footnote ³⁰ In no. 876 Æthelred refers to the ‘meae iuuentutis ignorantia que diuersis solet uti moribus’, while in no. 885 he speaks of the ‘iuuentutis mee tempore que diuersis solebat uti moribus’. What is striking here is the rather awkward subclause referring back to the king's youth, which (sc. ‘youth’) was accustomed to employ contrary (or various) practices. This phrase is clearly a calque on a line from the proem of the Regularis concordia, ‘ab ineunte suae pueritiae aetate licet, uti ipsa solet aetas, diuersis utereetur moribus’, which explains how Edgar, amongst the various pursuits common to boyhood, was also touched by concern for the Church; the contrast with Æthelred would seem to lie in the latter's pursuit only of secular interests.Footnote ³¹ The use of a quotation from the Regularis concordia, a work written in Edgar's name by Æthelwold, to explain a series of restitutions which at least in part signalled the return of royal support for reformed monastic circles, including two Æthelwoldian houses, seems particularly appropriate and the implications of this line would certainly not have been lost on contemporaries.Footnote ³² Moreover, in no. 876 this phrase is one of a number of borrowings from the proem of the Regularis concordia and the Council of Winchester of Pentecost 993 is evidently being presented here as an equivalent to the famous Council of Winchester in Edgar's reign at which the Corcordia was issued: Æthelred was thus framing the return of his support for monastic reform in the same words as those with which his father had once expressed his commitment to the cause.Footnote ³³

It might seem unlikely that two draftsmen would come upon the idea of using a phrase from the Regularis concordia to explain Æthelred's youth independently so a further comparison of these diplomas is in order. It is interesting that this line is not the only similarity between the charters: both also contain proems meditating upon Adam's fall from grace, the event which had first brought sin into the world and made confession and penance necessary for man – an especially apt introduction for such penitential grants. One might on these grounds be tempted to suggest a closer connection between these two documents than the rest of the series, perhaps even common draftsmanship. Whilst this is by no means unthinkable, it is not the only possible explanation. Beyond the one verbal parallel the similarities between the charters are largely thematic and it is entirely possible that two draftsmen might independently come upon the idea of introducing a penitential restitution with a proem discussing man's fall from grace. Indeed, this was a common theme in medieval proems, often used to justify the existence of secular authority, which had been necessitated by original sin.Footnote ³⁴ The most logical explanation seems to be that whoever was responsible for drafting these grants – and it should be noted that the most recent editor of no. 876 sees it as an Abingdon production, which might preclude common draftsmanshipFootnote ³⁵ – they were receiving instructions from court, probably from the king: he may well himself have brought Adam's fall to mind when confronting his problems and he too might have had recourse in this context to the Regularis concordia. Even if it was not Æthelred himself who came up with these details, their origins are certainly to be sought in court circles and we can be relatively confident that he would have approved of them.

The common denominator behind these expressions of guilt and repentance is therefore to be sought with Æthelred. Whilst we should not presume that he regularly concerned himself with the wording of his charters, this is precisely the sort of case in which we might anticipate a heightened royal interest. Medieval kings enjoyed admitting to wrongdoing no more than modern politicians and how they did so was always an important and tricky matter. There is every reason to believe that Æthelred would have been interested in what message his charters of restitution sent and the personal details included are suggestive of just this. While it is possible that this penitential programme was an agenda forced on Æthelred by his court, a number of considerations makes this seem unlikely. First of all, although the viking raids may have made the need to repent seem pressing, Simon Keynes has convincingly shown the 990s to be a period of relative royal strength and therefore any penitential undertaking can hardly have been considered without a degree of royal support or initiative.Footnote ³⁶ The very energy and consistency with which this programme was then pursued by Æthelred throughout the 990s – his restitutions span at least the years 993 to 998 – similarly suggests that it was not forced upon him. Presuming Æthelred's genuine commitment to the cause also makes better sense of later developments, as a line of continuity can be traced between Æthelred's personal penitential efforts in the 990s and the national penance ordained later in his reign; it would seem that once the king's personal repentance had proven insufficient to avert the viking threat the only natural conclusion was that the entire nation was to blame.Footnote ³⁷ The late tenth century seems to have been a period in which acts of royal penitence and self-abasement were common more generally in north-western Europe; Æthelred's contemporaries Otto iii of Germany and Robert the Pious of France are also known to have performed penance.Footnote ³⁸ In an era of monastic reform, in which kings were increasingly seen as Christ's vicars on Earth, there is every reason to believe that a ruler would be willing to admit to wrongdoing publicly, to abase himself that he might be exalted.Footnote ³⁹

The question remains whether Æthelred might have personally dictated or drafted these documents or at least their narrative sections. At first glance this might seem an unlikely prospect; however, when one considers that Æthelred had been raised by Ælfthryth and Æthelwold, both of whom were prominent supporters of monastic reform, this becomes rather less far-fetched. The reform invigorated the intellectual culture of later Anglo-Saxon England and had an educational and ideological impact well beyond the cloister walls. Perhaps the best example of this can be found in the person of Ealdorman Æthelweard, who was not only a patron of Ælfric at Cerne, but was himself the author of a Latin chronicle.Footnote ⁴⁰ In this context it would hardly surprise if Æthelred had achieved at least a degree of literacy and it should not be assumed that the production of Latin texts was entirely beyond him. Moreover, it is quite possible that Æthelred was acquainted with the concepts of penance and punishment expressed in these diplomas: namely, that his sins as king had endangered his people and perhaps contributed to the cattle plague and viking raids. That a ruler's sins might affect his nation's fortunes was a medieval commonplace, a lesson that Æthelred might have learned from the Bible (particularly from the Old Testament) or from Pseudo-Cyprian's ever-popular De duodecim abusivis saeculi.Footnote ⁴¹ Indeed, given the popularity of the latter work within the circles of reformed monasticism – Æthelwold owned a copy and his sometime pupil Ælfric translated it in this period – it is quite likely that Æthelred had been taught to see God's pleasure (and displeasure) as manifested in natural phenomena.Footnote ⁴² It is similarly possible that Æthelred knew the Regularis concordia, the crowning monument of his father's reform efforts, written by his own tutor Æthelwold. The very ideology of Benedictine monasticism, with its insistence on obedience, purity and the avoidance of sin, would only have reinforced the penitential message found in these other works. From this perspective the kingdom's ills could be seen as a reflection on sin which had crept into society and which had to be rectified to return order to the world.Footnote ⁴³ Moreover, Benedictinism itself was closely associated with concepts of penitence and, according to the Rule, monastic life was to be like a perpetual Lent, a constant penance.Footnote ⁴⁴

Likewise the discourse of youthful ignorance corrected by the wisdom of age found in these diplomas is a common one, which Æthelred and his counsellors may have known from such works as Augustine's Confessiones or from its ultimate source in the parable of the prodigal son.Footnote ⁴⁵ The tale of the prodigal son is of course itself very germane to the themes of penance and reconciliation touched on in these documents and Æthelred was not the only king to avail himself of this line of reasoning: almost exactly eighty years later, in 1073, Henry iv of Germany would excuse his youthful acts of simony to the pope in a remarkably similar fashion as mistakes borne of his youth and the ill advice of bad counsellors.Footnote ⁴⁶ Alongside youth, accusations of bad counsel, another medieval commonplace to be found in the Bible, Pseudo-Cyprian and many other works, are central to both Æthelred's and Henry's justifications of their actions.Footnote ⁴⁷ We can, therefore, be relatively certain that these ideas were current at court and that Æthelred would have had access to them. Even if he were not acquainted with all of these concepts directly by personal reading of the Bible, Pseudo-Cyprian or the Regularis concordia, he would have had counsellors who knew these works well and might have distilled their message for him.

It would seem, therefore, that Æthelred may have possessed both the literacy and intellectual background necessary to express the thoughts found in these documents. Of course, the style of their narrative sections varies somewhat and they often describe similar sentiments in different words. Whilst this would generally point away from common authorship, it need not necessarily: variety of formulation is also a trait of inexperienced draftsmanship, of a writer struggling the express his thoughts, and Æthelred presumably would have been inexperienced in such matters. Nevertheless, differences in expression and phraseology can be no proof of common authorship, and it is perhaps safer to suggest that in most if not all of these cases Æthelred instructed his draftsmen to include the details found in the narrationes and that they then each went about the task slightly differently. What we are hearing therefore is the ‘voice of Æthelred’, but perhaps at a slight remove, mediated through his draftsmen.

If the king's voice is to be found in the narrative sections upon which we have been focusing on, the natural question is what value is to be attached to the rest of the texts of these diplomas: was the form of the entire charter dictated by royal interests and input, or only the narrationes? The peculiarly personal tone that we have noted is largely limited to these narrative sections, so I am inclined to suggest that the wording of the rest of these documents was left up to individual draftsmen to complete as they saw fit. Nevertheless, given the heightened royal interest in these charters we should not presume that the draftsmen were entirely free and we would do well to suppose that Æthelred would have approved of all of the details included, even if he was not actively behind them all. Indeed, as already noted, two of the diplomas (Sawyer, 876, 885) include proems meditating on the expulsion of Adam from the Garden of Eden, a theme particularly relevant to the grants which might well have represented Æthelred's own thinking on the topic. Moreover, the second of these, no. 885, brings its proem to a close with a quotation from Romans ii.4: ‘An ignoras quia patientia dei ad poenitentiam te adducit?’Footnote ⁴⁸ Interestingly enough this phrase, which is relatively rarely cited in the literature of the period,Footnote ⁴⁹ is to be found quoted in the Rule immediately following the line from Ezeziel xxxiii.11, perhaps further suggesting that specifically Benedictine ideals inspired these grants.Footnote ⁵⁰ In this context it would seem rash to suggest that these statements could not also have been the king's and at the very least they were sentiments with which Æthelred would have heartily agreed. What would seem the safest conclusion, therefore, is that the narrative sections of these charters saw the most clear and decisive royal intervention, but that the documents as a whole should be taken as representations of Æthelred's view of his youthful misdeeds and their implications.

Therefore, regardless of whether different draftsmen may be mediating Æthelred's thoughts, it remains likely that behind the expressions found in the narrative sections of these diplomas – and perhaps occasionally elsewhere – lie the voice and thoughts of Æthelred. We should not, however, imagine this voice speaking in a void: if Æthelred is speaking, then what we are hearing is part of a dialogue between the king (possibly along with his advisors) and the houses that he has offended. These diplomas were meant to send a specific and timely message, to a specific audience. Nevertheless, as they were issued at public assemblies and church councils there can be little doubt that the audience for these statements also went beyond the houses offended; or, to develop the earlier metaphor, if Æthelred was first and foremost addressing the religious houses that had had offended, many others got to listen in on the conversation.Footnote ⁵¹

If we are indeed hearing Æthelred speak in these charters, then we might wish to consider whether any other diplomas in the king's name preserve his ‘voice’. At a technical level, of course, there is an extent to which all of his charters do so, since they are written in Æthelred's name and present an image of his kingship.Footnote ⁵² More specifically royal styles and proems may be argued to preserve aspects of the king's voice, though perhaps at some remove, as the former set out royal claims to rulership and dominance, while the latter underlined the king's pious fulfilment of office.Footnote ⁵³ Sanctions might also send important messages and Petra Hofmann suggests that the ‘infernal imagery’ of these clauses provides insights into contemporary ideals of rulership and Benedictine reform.Footnote ⁵⁴ Nevertheless, whilst we should never dismiss these or other parts of diplomas as mere verbiage, there can be little doubt that the sentiments expressed in the diplomas surveyed here take us closer to the king's own concerns, recording much more delicate details than are to be found in most other royal charters. Indeed, the only diploma that I know of which might be argued to preserve a similarly detailed royal concern for the ills of the English kingdom and their cure is a further programmatic document, the Eynsham foundation charter, which Simon Keynes argues represents Æthelred's response to a crisis in 1005.Footnote ⁵⁵ In this diploma the king prefaces his actions with eschatological quotations and frames his grant as a pious response to the viking onslaught, suggesting a similar urgency and personal involvement to that seen in his restitutions of the 990s; if there is anywhere else where Æthelred's voice is to be found, it is probably here.

If the case presented here for Æthelred's role in drafting these diplomas is accepted, then he is hardly alone. A number of scholars in recent years have argued that they can identify the voices of early medieval rulers: Janet L. Nelson argues that the voice of Charlemagne is to be found in some of his capitularies, while Anton Scharer suggests that one of Charles the Bald's more unusual diplomas represents the king's ‘personal statement’ (Selbstaussage).Footnote ⁵⁶ Closer to the case that I have been making, however, is that of Harmut Hoffmann, who argues that Otto iii and Henry ii of Germany – who were Æthelred's contemporaries – at times dictated their diplomas.Footnote ⁵⁷ Just as in the case of Æthelred, this seems to have most often happened for diplomas of particular political importance, such as the diploma in which Henry ii justified his election to the kingship against the claims of Duke Hermann of Swabia, a document which Hoffmann describes as ‘a political manifesto’ (‘ein politisches Manifest’).Footnote ⁵⁸ Even more similar to the charters surveyed here is a diploma of Otto iii in which the emperor restores and confirms Farfa's liberty on which he had infringed earlier, granting the abbey away as a benefice to the local bishop Hugh under the influence of his sometime chaplain Herpo. However, now that Herpo and Hugh had both passed away, perhaps signalling to the young ruler the wrong that had been done, Otto expresses his desire to restore these lands in order to clear his and more particularly Herpo's guilt.Footnote ⁵⁹ The parallels between this grant and Æthelred's restitutions are striking and one of Hoffmann's main reasons for ascribing the diploma to Otto's draftsmanship is the personal interest in the fate of the emperor's and Herpo's souls which it exhibits. Indeed, more generally, the criteria which Hoffmann uses to distinguish the ruler's ‘own dictation’ (Eigendiktat) from more standard chancery production square neatly with many of the features seen in Æthelred's charters of restitution: Hoffmann is inclined to see royal intervention in diplomas which criticise important magnates by name,Footnote ⁶⁰ just as our documents single out Ealdorman Ælfric, Bishop Wulfgar and Æthelsige for criticism; or in diplomas which focus on the king's personal relationships, either with his wife or with his favoured bishops,Footnote ⁶¹ just as in charter no. 876 where Æthelred's closeness to Æthelwold and regret at the bishop's passing are mentioned; or in royal charters in which particularly delicate or personal thoughts and feelings of the ruler are expressed,Footnote ⁶² as is the case in all of Æthelred's restitutions. As Hoffmann admits, a degree of supposition and circularity is inevitably involved in such arguments and absolute certainty is impossible; nevertheless, the more examples gathered, the more likely it becomes that such thoughts are indeed to be ascribed to the king himself.Footnote ⁶³

It is just such a contextual argument which leads Geoffrey Koziol, in his provocatively named article ‘Is Robert i in hell?’, to conclude that Robert i of West Frankia was well aware of the form that the only diploma issued in his name took, even though it was drafted by the recipients at St-Denis, and that its wording can therefore be mined as a source for the king's thoughts.Footnote ⁶⁴ Koziol's ultimate answer to the question in his title is that we can never know whether Robert is in hell, but we can be fairly certain that ‘the question mattered to him, and that it mattered to him should matter to us’.Footnote ⁶⁵ Æthelred's diplomas of restitution do much the same for him: they do not allow us to ascertain whether he is in hell, whether his acts of repentance will be deemed sufficient at the day of judgement, but they suggest that this was a matter which often concerned the king, and if it concerned him, then it should concern us too. These charters may not in every case directly preserve the ‘voice of Æthelred’ and may not therefore completely remove us from Reuter's ‘black box’, but they come closer to doing so than any other surviving sources do and for that reason alone they deserve attention.