Tolkien Pleaded in Favour of King Finn. An Immortalized Royal Tragedy

Hans Faber
Jul 2, 2017
46 min read

Updated: 1 day ago

Around the year 440 (Shippey 2022), a betrayal unfolded on the southern shores of the North Sea—a tragedy not forgotten in north-western Europe, echoing even in distant Bavaria. And it never will be. We are talking about the bloody battle at the citadel of King Finn—or Fin Folcwalding Fresna cynne, as he is called in the Anglo-Saxon poem Widsið. This poem, dating from the early tenth century, recounts the fate of Finn, son of Folcwald and young king of the Frisian tribe. It was a battle that shook the North Sea world to its core. But why was—and is—this battle remembered? And who exactly was this Finn?

This blog post takes the reader back to the dawning of Frisia—to the mystic time of the Wandering of Peoples, also known as the Migration Age. A time when a new tribal identity was forged along the wet waterfront of the southern North Sea. An identity built from elements of the Franks, the Old Frisians, the Old Saxons, and southern Scandinavians. Of sea raiders and traders. It forms part of a wider regional history, as sketched by Nennius around the year 800 in his Historia Brittonum. In it, three ceols—‘keels’ or ships—under the legendary command of Horsa and Hengest (the latter also written as Hengist), sail from the south-eastern shores of the North Sea, from which they had been exiled, to the Isle of Thanet. There, they would found the first Anglo-Saxon kingdom: the Kingdom of Kent.

Finn, son of Foleuuwald—or 'Folcwald'—is also recorded as Finn, son of Fodepald. In the Anglian Collection and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle of the eighth and ninth centuries, he appears as Finn, son of God(w)ulf. It remains unclear whether Finn son of Folcwald (including its variants Foleuuwald and Fodepald) and Finn son of Godulf refer to the same individual. One theory holds that Godulf was Finn’s actual father, while Folcwald(a) was a title—a designation meaning something like 'ruler of the people.' Hence the interpretation: Finn Folcwald, son of Godulf Folcwald (Bliss 1982).

Frisia occupied a central position precisely because it was liminal—a borderland between worlds (IJssennagger 2017). This long-standing historical concept finds fitting expression even in literary form. We came across it, quite aptly, in a novel about King Finn as well:

“To the north and west of us, across the Swan Road, lies the land of the Britons where the Angles and Saxons now rule. To the north and east,” he [King Finn] continued, adjusting his grip on his staff and pointing just north of the rising sun, “lies the land of the Danes. And south of us,” he finished, turning around and looking out over Hwitstan, “is the Merovingian kingdom—the land of the Franks. And beyond the Frankish kingdoms lie all of the great kingdoms of the continent. Our land stands at the center of these like a young sapling in the midst of a great oak forest.”

The Finnsburg Encounter by Dickerson, 1991

After the heroic tale of the battle had been sung by minstrels and bards and passed down orally for generations, it was eventually committed to writing. Two early medieval texts recount the legendary clash in which the sword’s edge sealed King Finn’s doom: the monumental Old English epic poem Beowulf and the so-called Finnsburh Fragment. The Fragment, discovered in 1705, is notably the oldest surviving pagan poem in the Old English language. Scholars suggest that it may once have been part of a now-lost manuscript narrating the Saga of Hengest. It is also likely older than Beowulf, as it contains no Christian references, unlike the epic poem (Webster 2012).

The Finn Episode is also known as the Freswæle, which translates to ‘Frisian slaughter’ in Old English. The element Fres refers to the Frisians, while wæle means ‘the fallen, the slain, the slaughtered’—a meaning echoed in the Mid Frisian verb falle, ‘to fall’. Combined, Freswæle literally means ‘fallen Frisians’.

This etymology is part of a wider Germanic mythological vocabulary. It reverberates in the name Valhalla—valr meaning ‘the slain’ and halla meaning ‘hall’, thus ‘the hall of the fallen’. Similarly, the valkyries (from Old Norse valkyrja)—the mythical female figures who choose which warriors die and which live—take their name from val- (‘the slain’) and -kyrja, akin to the Mid Frisian verb karre, ‘to choose’. In other words, a valkyrie is ‘she who chooses the slain’, selecting souls to be taken to Valhalla, the afterlife reserved for those who fell bravely in battle. A linguistic and cultural chain of meanings, all linked to the fate of those who fall—like the Frisians at Finnsburh.

In the epic poem Beowulf, the Freswæle was recited during the celebrations following the slaying of the wolf-like monster Grendel. Evidently, it was a legendary tale deemed worthy of retelling at feasts in the mead-halls—or Herrenhöfe, as they are called in German—of lords, kings, overkings, and other powerful men. Who knows, perhaps it was also passed down in the turf-built homes of common folk on terps—the artificial mounds rising above the tidal flats—during the long, wet winters on the salt marshes of Frisia. An empty, exposed landscape where relentless westerly winds from the North Sea have free reign. A land without mountains, caves, or forests—nothing to break the wind, and nowhere to hide.

Of course, the Frisians might have had their own version of how the events of the Freswæle unfolded—one that differed from the accounts told by their Saxon and Danish cousins. A version that perhaps shed a different light on why their young king met his end in the salty mud. The reader will understand why, after reading this blog post.

ða wæs heal roden feonda feorum | swilce Fin slægen | cyning on corþre | ond seo cwen numen

The hall was reddened with blood of foemen | and Finn was slain | king amid clansmen | and their queen was taken (Beowulf)

1. The name Finn

The name Finn is widely known across northern Europe. According to Swedish legend, 'Finn the Giant' was the builder of the cathedral in Lund, southern Sweden, near the city of Malmö. This Finn is said to be depicted on a pillar in the cathedral’s crypt, dating back to the early twelfth century. Yet in Danish folklore, Finn was not a giant but rather an ugly troll. Just a bit further northeast of Denmark lies a whole country said to be filled with witchy Fins—indeed, a popular belief equates Fins with witchcraft.

Back to the Danish archipelago: on the island of Fyn, also known as Funen, near the village of Gudme, archaeologists have uncovered the most significant so-called Central-Place Complex (CPC) known today. This area flourished roughly between AD 400 and 600—precisely the era of King Finn. Kilograms of gold were found here, alongside large halls reminiscent of those described in the epic poem Beowulf. One hall alone measured an impressive forty-seven by ten meters.

These southern Scandinavian–style CPCs have also been identified in what is now the Netherlands, particularly around the towns of Rijnsburg and Egmond in the provinces of Zuid Holland and Noord Holland, respectively (Dijkstra 2011). CPCs often signify the presence of early medieval kingdoms. Archaeologists have reconstructed four sixth-century Anglo-Saxon and Frisian kingdoms along the southern North Sea coast: in southern East Anglia, southern Kent, at the mouth of the River Rhine, and in the region of Westergo in the province of Friesland (Van Eerden 2023). Smaller CPCs are suspected at the mouth of the River Thames, in the town of Wijk bij Duurstede (historically Dorestad), and at the settlement of Laar near Rhenen, both located in the province of Utrecht. Further below, we will explore these CPCs in greater detail.

Furthermore, Finn is a common Anglo-Saxon name. Since the character Finn Dandridge appeared in the popular TV series Grey’s Anatomy around 2005—and clearly was not portrayed as an ugly Danish troll—the name Finn quickly became a hit in the Netherlands. Consequently, the country has been filling up with Finns ever since. As for Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, we will revisit that topic later. It still requires more research, particularly regarding the history of the Frisians as well-known slavers during the Early Middle Ages.

In Ireland and Scotland, the name Finn emerges from the black, peaty waters of places like Loch Finn and Glenfinnan—names possibly linked to fen or fenland. Additionally, in the Welsh language, a ffynnon refers to a freshwater well or spring. Old Irish texts mention Finngaill or Finngenti, meaning ‘fair foreigners.’ And of course, we cannot forget the legendary Celtic hero Finn, or Fionn mac Cumhaill—the Irish warrior and king who gained his wisdom by sucking his thumb (see the intermezzo further below). It is wisdom we might hope our politicians and leaders will one day possess as well. On Orkney, there is even a village named Finstown—not likely the site of Finn’s burh, but intriguing nonetheless.

Lastly, in the Mid Frisian language, a finne refers to a type of meadow that is seldom or never mowed—originally the grazing lands surrounding terp settlements on the tidal marshlands.

In sum, there is little coherence in this rather arbitrary overview, except for the fact that the name Finn appears widely across the North Sea region. One of the most convincing etymological explanations traces the Old Germanic finnaz to mean ‘breathing,’ ‘inspired,’ or ‘invested’—in other words, ‘the inspirator’ (Van Renswoude 2017). Meanwhile, the Celtic Finn derives from fionn, meaning ‘light’ in the sense of luminescence.

By the way, if readers think of Finn as purely a Celtic name that would not fit a king of a Germanic tribe, it is worth noting that the origins of the Old Frisians—prior to the fourth century—were likely Celtic, or at least a blend of Celtic and Germanic elements. For more details, see our blog post Barbarians Riding to the Capital to Claim Rights on Farmland.

The Legend of Finn mac Cumhaill (after Clerinx 2023) — Finn’s father was the leader of the Fianna, a fierce band of warriors who roamed the land, raiding and plundering wherever they went. Before Finn was born, his father was murdered, and the druid Finnegas took the young boy under his wing, raising him.

When Finn grew to manhood, he eventually avenged his father’s death by killing the murderer. He also inherited a bag made from crane skin containing a spear, a helmet, a shield, and a belt crafted from pig leather. With these items, Finn sought out his godfather, the druid Finnegas. At that time, Finnegas had just caught the legendary salmon of wisdom—whoever ate this fish would gain all the wisdom in the world. Finnegas asked Finn to prepare the salmon for cooking.

While preparing the fish, Finn accidentally burned his thumb. Instinctively, he put his thumb in his mouth and licked a few drops of the fish’s fat. In doing so, Finn, not Finnegas, received the salmon’s wisdom.

Armed with this newfound knowledge, Finn journeyed to the fortress of Tara, home to the highest king of Ireland. But Tara was under a terrible curse: each year, the magician Áillen would raze the fortress to the ground. Áillen possessed a magical tune played on a flute by elven musicians that lulled everyone to sleep, making it easy for him to burn Tara.

Finn promised to save Tara in exchange for becoming its new king. Though the people doubted his chances, Finn was determined. To avoid falling asleep from Áillen’s spell, he had himself positioned with his head resting against a spear. The moment the magical tune began to lull him, the prick of the spear would awaken him.

Sure enough, when the tune started, Finn felt the spear’s tip and was instantly alert. With his spear—no ordinary weapon but one forged by Len the blacksmith, a friend of his father and imbued with special powers—Finn slew Áillen. Thanks to Finn’s bravery and skill, Tara was saved, and he was crowned king.

Since this blog post also touches on the writer and philologist J.R.R. Tolkien, we must say a few words about his work as well. In Tolkien’s The Silmarillion, one of the three founding fathers of the Elves is King Finwë of the House of Finwë, ruler of the Noldor. It is likely that Tolkien drew inspiration from the Old Germanic word finnaz, or perhaps directly from the name Finn found in the Old English epic poem Beowulf and the Finnsburh Fragment—a subject Tolkien studied extensively, particularly in relation to this Frisian king (see further below).

King Finwë’s legacy lived on through many descendants who bore variations of his name: Fingolfin, Fingon, Finarfin, Finrod, Finduilas, and Curufin. Central to The Silmarillion are the Silmarils—three radiant jewels crafted by Fëanor, the son of Finwë. These treasured creations were eventually stolen, setting in motion much of the tragedy that defines Tolkien’s mythic legendarium.

The central role that beautifully crafted jewels or ornaments could play in pre-medieval mythology is exemplified by the Brísingamen—the legendary necklace associated with the goddess Freyja too—which is also referenced in the epic poem Beowulf and in several other ancient sources. See our blog post Ornament of the Gods Found in a Pile of Clay. The Brísingamen of Wijnaldum to learn how and where the Brísingamen, the neck-ring worn by Hygelac king of the Geats, has been retrieved in Frisia.

2. Finn the legend

The fact that a Frisian king—Finn son of Folcwald—is mentioned in the monumental epic poem Beowulf, and that his name also appears in several other early medieval sources, including the late eighth-century Historia Brittonum, the tenth-century poem Widsið, and even the thirteenth-century Skáldskaparmál of the Prose Edda, is remarkable in itself.

As previously noted regarding Finn son of Godwulf in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the Anglian Collection, the figure of Finn son of Burri mentioned in the Icelandic Edda may represent yet another, different Finn.

Þat var hjálmrinn Hildigöltr ok brynjan Finnsleif er á hvárigu festi járn

which were the helm Battle-Boar and the byrnie (i.e. shirt of mail or hauberk) of Finn's heritage on neither of which iron would take hold (Skáldskaparmál, Edda)

The events at the citadel of Finnsburh took place in ancient Frisia, and the Frisian king Finn served as an inspiration for Tolkien’s famous works. Yet, this remarkable piece of early medieval history receives little to no attention in history classes at Dutch high schools—even in the province of Friesland itself. We are not sure how things stand in the German states of Lower Saxony and Schleswig-Holstein, home to the regions of Ostfriesland and Nordfriesland, respectively. If readers know more, do let us know. Sadly, we fear that this chapter of North Sea history is largely overlooked there as well.

Let us at least conclude that the meter and layered structure of the Old English verses in Beowulf make them challenging to interpret—not just for Dutch students, but likely for German ones, too. Perhaps this blog post can help bridge that gap. And to be fair to Dutch and German educators: the British themselves did not begin to fully appreciate Beowulf until after the Second World War.

The story of the Battle at Finnsburh is quintessentially Germanic. It centers on themes such as loyalty, blood feuds between in-laws, tragic conflicts of duty, the glory and chaos of battle, Braveheart-like speeches of encouragement, and the stubbornness of hot-headed young warriors who refuse to heed the wisdom of their elders. There are feastings in the mead-hall, and a deeply ingrained belief that joy inevitably turns into sorrow (Klaeber 1922).

On that last note: to this day, both Dutch and German adults still warn their children, half-jokingly, with sayings like “van lachen komt huilen” or “nach dem Lachen kommt das Weinen”—'laughing leads to crying.' Apparently, even having too much fun is suspect. Heavy-hearted people, then and now. And poor children.

So, let's tell more about King Finn, for the history of the world is but the biography of the great, is it not?

The text of the epic poem Beowulf dates to around the year 850 — already quite the antique. But the characters it features are even older, reaching back to the later stages of the Migration Period. The main character, the warrior Beowulf, is a nephew of King Hygelac—whom we mentioned earlier—ruler of the Geats, a people who lived in the southeast of what is now Sweden. Hygelac is not just a legendary figure; he is a firmly attested historical person, mentioned by contemporary historians as early as the sixth century.

According to the Gallo-Roman historian Gregory of Tours (ca. 538–594), King Hygelac was killed during a raid in Frisia, likely near the mouth of the River Rhine (Porck 2014). The year was probably 516. This could have been at or near a settlement called Rothulfuashem or Hrothaluashem—meaning ‘Rothulf’s’ or ‘Radulfus’ home’ in the eighth century. By the ninth century, after a ring fortress had been built, it was renamed Rinasburg, ‘Rhine burh’. Today, this place is known as the town of Rijnsburg.

Other sources, however, place Hygelac’s death a bit further upstream along the River Rhine, between 516 and 534, near the present-day town of Nijmegen in the province of Gelderland.

Curious about King Hygelac’s wild and reckless adventures on Frisian soil? Check out our blog post Ornament of the Gods Found in a Pile of Clay. The Brísingamen of Wijnaldum.

Thus, Beowulf’s uncle may have been killed by the Frisians—though the Salian Franks are also prime suspects. A leading candidate for the deed is Dæġhrefn, the Hūga cempan or ‘hero of the Hugas’, whose name means ‘day-raven’. The Hugas originated from the region of Hugomarchi (‘march of the Hugas’), located in what is now the province of Groningen, in the northern part of Frisia. The term marchi or mark refers to a borderland.

Dæġhrefn is mentioned in the epic poem Beowulf just before the climactic battle with the dragon. There, Beowulf kills Dæġhrefn by crushing his bānhūs—literally 'bone house', a vivid kenning for ‘skeleton’—with his bare hands. As a result, Dæġhrefn was unable to present the much-coveted neck-ring of King Hygelac to the Frēscyning, the ‘king of the Frisians’. His defeat was considered a major feat of arms.

Some scholars interpret Beowulf’s slaying of Dæġhrefn as an act of vengeance for Hygelac’s death (Beach 1992; Gerritsen & Van Melle 1993), while others dispute this interpretation (McNamara 1976). As for Dæġhrefn’s identity, he may have been Frankish or Frisian—but what is clear is that he fought under the Frisian king’s banner.

We will leave it to the prosecutor’s office to decide whether the Frisians or the Franks were ultimately responsible for the death of King Hygelac. What is certain, though, is that the crime scene was in Frisia—and a Frisian king was eagerly awaiting delivery of that priceless piece of jewellery.

Not long after the dramatic events surrounding Hygelac, in the watery delta region of the Lower River Rhine, the Frisians established the unprecedented trade emporium of Dorestad, also Dorestat. This bustling hub was located at what is now the town of Wijk bij Duurstede, in the province of Utrecht. The Franks, eager to gain control over this jewel of the Rhine, engaged in a long and bloody struggle with the Frisians throughout much of the seventh and early eighth centuries.

Their rivalry, however, was only the beginning. In the ninth century, a new wave of devastation swept in: the Vikings. Dorestad was plundered year after year by Norse raiders, dealing blow after blow to its prosperity. In contrast, another emporium—Witla—located somewhere near the mouth of the River Meuse by today’s island of Voorne (province of Zuid Holland), was hit so hard by a Viking attack in the year 836 that it never recovered.

For more background on Dorestad—and for a more nuanced perspective on the frequency and impact of Viking raids—see our blog post The Batwing Doors of Dorestad. A Two-Way Gateway of Trade and Power.

"Beyond this mere, there are the dells full of the people of Frisia, and a settlement called Schrawynghop. And built in its center, in a place of pride, is the mead-hall called Trollhattan."

Break The Beast by Tebo, 2023

The exact location of the stronghold Finnsburh will likely remain a mystery forever. While there is a local bar named Finnenburg on the outskirts of the city of The Hague, that hardly serves as convincing evidence. What we can say with some certainty is that Finnsburh must have been located within the territory of western Frisia. This region bordered the Southern Bight of the North Sea—the very area where the first small Anglo-Saxon and Frisian kingdoms emerged in the sixth century.

By the late fifth century, Frisia extended from the northern coast of what is now the Netherlands to the north-western coast of Germany, reaching as far east as the River Weser. Additionally, the estuaries of the Rhine and Meuse rivers, as well as the basins of the River Rhine and the River Stichtse Vecht, were already considered part of Frisia in the fifth century. In the sixth century, Frisian settlements also spread into the present-day province of Zeeland and the coastal zone of the region of Flanders in Belgium, with the southernmost boundary known as Sincfala. Check our blog post A Frontier known as a watery Mess: the Coast of Flanders for more about the Frisian presence in the southern border area of Frisia.

We believe the central river lands—especially those along the River (Old) Rhine—were strong contenders for the seat of Frisian (over)kings. This strategic location granted them control over vital trade routes while also connecting them to the elite maritime network of the wider North Sea, known in Old English as the seġl-rād (literally 'sail road,' a kenning from Beowulf), which developed from the sixth century onward. As noted earlier, battles near the mouth and upstream of the River Rhine were recorded during the era of King Hygelac. Archaeological finds, such as coinage dated around 600 AD minted by Audulf—identified as a Frisian 'king' ruling upstream on the River Rhine—support this theory.

Moreover, this area provided local rulers with valuable building materials, including the scarce stone remnants of former Roman fortresses that once formed part of the Roman limes (border) a few centuries earlier. Perhaps future archaeological discoveries around the settlement of Rothulfuashem, present-day Rijnsburg mentioned earlier, will shed more light on Frisian rulers immediately following the Migration Period.

early-medieval buckle Rinasburg / Rijnsburg Frisia — buckle ca. AD 635–- Rothulfuashem / Rinasburg, modern Rijnsburg

The basin of the River Stichtse Vecht in the province of Noord Holland also presents strong claims as a seat of kings or powerful local leaders. This river formed a crucial and lucrative logistical corridor linking the Frankish hinterland to the south with southern Scandinavia to the north. Early medieval sources reveal that a territory known as pagus Niftarlake, part of this region, was owned by Frisian elites—most notably the Uurssing (or Wurssing) family—towards the end of the seventh century. The Wurssings held their family estate at what is today the village of Nederhorst den Berg, then known as Werinon. Notably, a member of the Wurssing family was a grandparent of Saint Ludger, the Frisian missionary who later converted many of his Frisian relatives in northern Frisia. Numerous place names in the northern part of the River Stichtse Vecht basin trace back to Frisian origins or earlier Frisian predecessors, further highlighting the area's Frisian heritage.

At the settlement of Attingahem—meaning ‘home of Atto,’ a Frisian personal name still used today as Atte in the province of Friesland—Saint Boniface founded his first church around the year 720. The name Attingahem has since been replaced by the non-Frisian place name Breukelen. For more on this and the wider pagus of Niftarlake, see our blog post Attingahem Bridge, NY, which explores its intriguing connections to places such as Brooklyn.

The so-called asega law tradition, a distinctly Frisian legal practice, also applied in pagus Niftarlake. After the death of King Radbod in 719, this region came under Frankish rule. Subsequently, much of Niftarlake fell under the jurisdiction of the monastery of Werden, now part of the city of Essen. Later, during the tenth century, much of the territory came under the control of the counts of pagus Hamaland, which encompassed roughly the Upper River IJssel area, and was renamed Naerdinclant.

The significance of the River Stichtse Vecht basin may date back to the pre-Christian, heathen era. Within this area, between three and six so-called table mountains have been identified. These include Tafelberg near Blaricum, Eukenberg and Sijdjesberg near Huizen, as well as three other possible table mountains: Leeuwenberg near Oud Valkeveen, Trapjesberg near Huizen, and Zwarte Berg near Hilversum. This represents a notably high concentration—an understatement, in fact.

These table mountains are, or were (since several have been excavated), conical-shaped artificial mounds with flat tops, often encircled at the base by earthworks. Their exact purpose remains uncertain; they may have served religious, military, or political functions. Though their origins are very ancient, precise dating is nearly impossible, but they are generally assumed to be prehistoric. Written sources confirm that such table mounds existed at least as early as the tenth century. A comparable mound in southern England is Silbury Hill (Schuyf 2019).

Back to identifying the location of Finn's court.

artist impression of a king’s hall on a terp at the tidal marshlands of medieval Frisia by Sjoerd Bijkerk

Sele hlifade, heah ond horngeap

The hall towered up high and wide-gabled (Beowulf)

Or was the citadel of Finn located on the island of Sylt in the region of Nordfriesland, near the Danish border, as old sagas suggest? Close to the land of the Jutes? According to North Frisian sagas, Finn was king of the Onereesken—in the North Frisian Söl'ring dialect—known in German as Unterirdischen, meaning “those beneath the earth.” The Onereesken were dwarfs who lived in holes beneath the poor heathland soil.

These Finnr dwarfs, believed to be the original inhabitants of the Wadden Sea island of Sylt, found themselves in conflict with the Frisian Riesen—giants who had taken possession of the island’s richer clay lands. A great battle broke out at the very spot where the lighthouse now stands. Four kings fell in this ferocious clash: King Bröns and Sea-King Ring of the giants, King Neski of the Puken—allies of the dwarfs—and King Finn himself. Finn was the sole surviving Onereesk, yet he refused to outlive his people. At sunset, he took a stone knife and pierced his own heart.

This saga was passed down by an old woman named Inken Teidis from the village of Baderup on Sylt, and was recorded in 1875 (Wiersma 1937). Just to circle back—we began this blog post with the image of the giant Finn carved on a pillar in the Lund Cathedral in Sweden.

Once, there was a Frisian student association called Finn in the town of Leiden, in the province of Zuid Holland. Nearby, at the confluence of the Old Rhine and New Rhine rivers, stands one of the oldest surviving ring fortresses in the Netherlands: De Burcht—literally ‘the burh’—dating from the late ninth century. Perhaps those sharp-minded students of Leiden University possessed ground breaking knowledge that this very spot had once been the location of King Finn’s ancient citadel.

Alas, we can no longer ask them. The association has since been dissolved, largely due to the striking lack of interest among Frisian students in their own cultural heritage and identity.

Rothulfuashem & Central-Place Complexes — Let’s dig a bit deeper into Rothulfuashem, located near the mouth of the River Rhine. This settlement was part of what scholars call a Central-Place Complex (CPC), comparable to those found in southern Scandinavia (Dijkstra 2011)—for example, on the Danish island of Fyn. It highlights not only the organizational sophistication of early Frisian society but also the cultural influence from and kinship with Scandinavian regions. But that is a side note, of course.

A CPC typically covered an area with a diameter ranging from five to twenty-five kilometers and was usually situated strategically at or near a river mouth. Within such a complex, various key functions were distributed, all integrated within a single socio-political unit. These included the residence of the elite or Gefolgschaft—usually a large hall building—the craft zone (e.g., blacksmiths or even a mint), the trading hub or vicus often located along the riverbanks, a site for heathen cult practices, a burial ground, fortifications or a military stronghold, and a thing-site. The thing (also written as ting, ding, or þing) was the designated assembly place, often on a hillock, where legal and political matters were discussed and judgments rendered. Check out our blog post Well, the Thing is... to find more information about these Germanic assemblies and the specific part Frisians played in this piece of history.

Comparable CPC-like zones can be identified along the Dutch coast as well. One such area includes Katwijk—Rijnsburg—Valkenburg—Oegstgeest, where De Luttele Geest likely served as the site of the former thing. A second cluster lies in the province of Noord Holland, encompassing Hargen—Egmond—Egmond aan Zee—Egmond Binnen (formerly known as Hallem)—Heiloo—Velsen. This constellation also suggests the presence of a CPC, with De Schepelenberg near Heemskerk believed to have been the thing-site. The historical placename Hallem in Egmond Binnen implies the presence of a hall or elite citadel, while Hargen is linguistically related to the Old Germanic word hearg—a heathen shrine—akin to the name Harrow just north of London in England. A third possible CPC might have existed at the mouth of the River Meuse, though much of this area has long since been claimed by the sea, making it likely to remain in the realm of informed speculation.

Lastly, research indicates that the northern part of the pagus (territory) Westergo—originally called Uuistrachia, meaning ‘western island’—in the province of Friesland, can also be regarded as a CPC (Nicolay 2005), making it the fourth known example. This designation is supported by several factors: the discovery of approximately 1.5 kilograms of gold in the rich clay soils; strong cultural and elite connections with both Jutland and, later, Kent; political-religious expressions evidenced in jewellery and runic inscriptions; the local production of high-end goods; and, not least, its central geographic position in the trade corridor between southern Scandinavia and the Anglo-Saxon world of the British Isles.

Mounting evidence suggests that a significant power base also existed in the neighbouring pagus (territory) of Oostergo—originally known as Austrachia, meaning ‘eastern island’. This base was likely subordinate to the central seat of power at Wijnaldum in pagus Westergo (Nieuwhof 2023). Strong archaeological indicators include the remains of a sixth-century Vendel helmet (see further below), silver rings moulded onto a sword pommel—dating to the same century—and a sword pommel decorated with gold. The Vendel helmet fragments were discovered in the village of Hallum (not to be confused with Hallem in the province of Noord Holland, mentioned earlier), while the so-called ring-sword pommel was unearthed near the town of Dokkum. These moulded silver rings—also found in Kent—may have functioned as symbolic gifts, expressing a warrior’s loyalty and service to his lord (Brooks & Harrington 2010). And once again, the placename Hallum itself suggests the historical presence of a hall, that is, a seat of power belonging to a prominent individual.

A possible hall belonging to the local leader has been identified and dated to the eighth or ninth century. This structure measures approximately 18.2 meters in length and 6.2 meters in width and is single-aisled in design. Unlike other buildings in the area, which typically had walls constructed from turf or clay sods, this hall also featured wooden walls—an exceptional choice, given the scarcity and cost of timber on the salt marshes (Postma 2020; Nieuwhof 2023).

Back to the CPC at the mouth of the River Rhine.

More can be speculated about the figure of Radulf, after whom the settlement of Rothulfuashem was named. Was he merely a so-called big man, or in fact a king? He must have lived during the eighth century. We know he held possessions in Hoverathorp (near the present-day towns of Rijnsburg and Katwijk), together with an individual named Erulf or Herulf—possibly a relative—who also owned lands further upstream along the rivers, near the present-day town of Houten in the province of Utrecht. Radulf, along with his wife(?) Aldburga, made donations to the bishopric of Utrecht.

By the ninth century, possessions around Rothulfuashem had come into the hands of the noble Gerulfing family, who would later become the counts of West Frisia following the end of Viking rule in 885. In the year 1101, this dynasty adopted the title counts of Holland. Could the Gerulfings be direct descendants of the powerful Radulf? The founding of an abbey at Rijnsburg in the first half of the twelfth century further underscores the historical significance of this area as a seat of elite power.

Read also our blog post The Abbey of Egmond and the Rise of the Gerulfing Dynasty to learn more about the birth of Holland out of West Frisia.

Migration Period North Sea area — Frisia in the Early Middle Ages

Taking into account that the events described in the epic poem Beowulf can be traced back to the early sixth century, and that Hengest—the legendary grandson of Woden—was present at the scene, King Finn is commonly dated to around the year 450. This timing aligns with the traditional date for Hengest and his brother Horsa’s invasion of Britain, which is believed to have taken place between 449 and 455. Only a few decades earlier, at the close of the Migration Period, the once-abandoned tidal marshlands along the southern coast of the North Sea had begun to be re-populated. Peoples from the east (Germany) and the north (southern Scandinavia) settled the region, mixing with the sparse remnants of the original inhabitants—the ancient Frisians (Frisii or Fresones). These new settlers adopted the name 'Frisians' as well, forming a new cultural and political identity along the shifting shores from around AD 600.

Perhaps Finn’s father, Folcwald, was one of the early settlers who re-populated the nearly deserted wetlands of ancient Frisia at the end of the Migration Period — immigrants from the east or north who adopted the name 'Frisian' and helped lay the foundation for what would become the Frisian identity. Read our blog posts Our Civilization—It All Began With Piracy and A severe case of inattentional blindness: the Frisian tribe’s name to find an explanation as to why the name Frisia stuck in history.

In the context of Finn’s seat of power, we should also mention the Thron der Marsch ('throne of the marshlands'). This wooden chair, about 65 centimeters high and carved from a single log, dates to the early fifth century. It was discovered in the Fallward terp (or Wurt) in Land Wursten (Peek et al 2022). Remarkably, this timing aligns perfectly with the era in which Finn is believed to have ruled, as well as with the region from which the Saxons migrated westward to Frisia and eventually to England. While it was Finn’s actual throne, a similar chair could maybe have been part of his royal regalia. Today, this impressive artifact can be admired at the Museum Burg Bederkesa in Landkreis Cuxhaven.

wandering of the peoples

Research strongly indicates that the salt marshes of the northern Netherlands — especially those in the present-day province of Friesland — were nearly abandoned between roughly 325 and 425 AD. This depopulation was not caused by the collapse of the Roman Empire or the arrival of the Huns in Europe, as one might expect. Instead, it was driven by climate change. Environmental deterioration had a profound impact on living conditions: rising sea levels in the fourth century made drainage of fresh water from the hinterland increasingly difficult, turning the interior into malaria-infested swamps unsuitable for both habitation and agriculture.

As a result, people migrated away from these areas. The loss of inland settlements also affected habitation along the Wadden Sea coast, as survival depended on extensive village networks. Among these displaced groups, the Frisians migrated southward from the mid-third century, settling not only along the Lower River Rhine but also moving up the River Scheldt into what is now the region of Flanders (Dhaeze 2019).

That said, certain terps—artificial dwelling mounds—in present-day Friesland reveal a modest, continuous population throughout the Migration Period. Terp villages such as Driesum, Hatsum, Hogebeintum, Jelsum, Rasquert, and Marssum, as well as the site at Wijnaldum-Tjitsma, all show signs of ongoing habitation. While some terps like Dongjum and Peins were abandoned as settlements, they continued to be used as arable land during this period, suggesting that modest habitation persisted nearby.

Habitation in the terp region of Ommelanden in the northeast of the Netherlands decreased strongly, as demonstrated by the archaeological excavation of the terp of Ezinge in the province of Groningen. The same is true for the terp region of north-western Germany. Both regions were probably less affected than the area of the province of Friesland during the fourth century. Archaeological research has shown habitation that continued on the terp of Fedderson in the region of Ostfriesland in the northwest of Germany, for example.

The environment of western Frisia along the North Sea coast—roughly corresponding to the present-day region of Kennemerland and the former Wadden Sea islands of Texel and Wieringen—also deteriorated during the fourth century. This decline was likely caused by the North Sea gradually encroaching eastward, combined with a period of drought that intensified dune formation, rendering much of the coastal zone unsuitable for agriculture. A similar decline occurred further south, between the mouths of the Rivers Rhine and Meuse, where a significant population decrease in the fourth century made the area comparable to the northern salt marshes in terms of depopulation. Nevertheless, modest habitation persisted along parts of the North Sea coast, notably at Oosterbuurt near Castricum, Dorregeest near Uitgeest, and near Schagen.

Most research supports a two-wave migration theory for the late Migration Period. The first wave, around the turn of the fourth to the fifth century, consisted mainly of Angles and Saxons. Their core homeland was the Elbe-Weser triangle, and they became the first of the new Frisians. These groups likely intermingled with the small remaining population of original Frisians (Frisii). The second wave followed in the latter half of the fifth century, bringing in Jutes and southern Norwegians, who probably blended further with the already mixed population. These successive migrations repopulated the sparsely inhabited tidal marshlands, where small pockets of the pre-Roman Frisii or Fresones—a people of likely mixed Celtic and Germanic heritage—had managed to persist.

For more on the Celtic connections, read our posts Barbarians riding to the Capital to claim rights on farmland and The Celtic-Frisian heritage—there is no dealing with the Wheels of Fortune.

Other theories suggest that original Frisian tribes re-entered the tidal marshlands from what is now the northern part of the province of Noord Holland, emerging from the small Frisian enclaves that had endured throughout the Migration Period. This secondary movement does not contradict the two-wave migration theory; rather, it likely complemented it. The repopulation of the vast salt marshes along the Wadden Sea and the western North Sea coast of the Netherlands was probably the result of a combined movement: original or Old Frisians from what would later become West Frisia—roughly corresponding to today’s provinces of Noord Holland and Zuid Holland—joined by Saxon groups and, to a lesser extent, peoples from southern Scandinavia.

terp culture Germany the Netherlands — impression of the terp region in Germany and the Netherlands during the Early Middle Ages by Ulco Glimmerveen

Thus, the Frisians emerged as a diverse blend of Old Celtic-Frisians (Frisii or Fresones), Old Saxons, Angles, Jutes, and southern Scandinavians, who repopulated the coastal zone stretching from the Flanders region in Belgium in the south to the River Weser in Germany in the north, including the lower central river lands of the Netherlands, during the fifth century. Read our blog post Have a Frisians cocktail! A rich composition to find out more about the origin of the Frisians.

When examining the golden and silver artifacts crafted by the new Frisians, it becomes clear that they blended stylistic elements from the various cultures surrounding them. This fusion is exemplified by the exquisite fibulae from the second quarter of the seventh century. A distinctive feature of these fibulae is the so-called kidney shape, characterized by two raven heads bowed toward each other. This motif suggests that by this time a strong, new Frisian identity had emerged, distinct from the dominant Scandinavian elite of Jutes and southern Norwegians.

For more on the significance of the bowed raven heads as a key Frisian style element, check out our blog post Odin’s Ravens ruled over the southern shores. Not the Hammer of Thor.

The seventh century is also the century when Frisia politically expanded all the way to Sincfala, the present southwestern border of the Netherlands with Belgium. Additionally, it was during this period that Frisia began wrestling with its increasingly powerful Frankish opponent to the south. This was a time of social and political change, which also resulted in increased soil depositions and grave gifts, especially swords and other weaponry. These practices reflected the communities’ emphasis on warrior culture and their connection to the world of the gods.

The Inconvenient Truth — It should be noted that the dispute often referred to as ‘the inconvenient truth’—concerning the hiatus and origin of the Frisians during much of the fourth and early fifth centuries—mainly involves archaeologists and historians within the province of Friesland, in the Netherlands. Archaeologist Pieter Boeles (1873–1961) from the town of Assen, in the neighbouring province of Drenthe, first proposed this theory in 1951. However, he was dismissed as elitist and anti-Frisian (Betten 2018). Surprise, surprise, you might think. Indeed, the study of history is, above all, deeply intertwined with politics.

Archaeological research in the terp regions of north-western Germany remains relatively underdeveloped but may, over time, provide valuable new insights into these matters. Let’s hope so—thanks in part to the protections established by the Valletta Treaty of 1992.

Whatever the exact story behind the formation of the Frisian tribe in those ancient times, imagine new groups arriving from the east and north in the early fifth century, stepping into a nearly deserted, wet, and treeless salt marsh landscape. Scattered across this terrain were old, abandoned house platforms—terps—and the remains of ditches and low tidal dykes. Occasionally, the ruins of wooden houses still stood, while some deserted terps had been repurposed as fields by small, original Frisian communities who continued to inhabit the area. These communities cultivated crops such as elderberries, seashore aster, cabbage, and beet, and extracted oil from rape and camelina.

The newcomers brought with them herds of cattle and sheep and gradually reoccupied the former house platforms and terps. They also introduced a new building tradition, constructing walls from clay sods rather than the wood and loam previously used (Betten 2018). How did these new settlers interact with the few original Frisians still present? Was it conflict or cooperation? The unfolding encounters must have been a fascinating spectacle to witness.

building tradition tidal marshlands Frisia ca. 450-800, Yeb Hettinga Museum at Firdgum

vendel helmet Hallum Frisia — reconstruction of the sixth century AD Vendel Helmet Hallum, the Netherlands

Even if King Finn never truly existed—though, with Tolkien’s support (Bliss 1982), the odds suggest otherwise—he and his story have remained legendary throughout North Sea culture. His tale became part of the ancestral legends of the shaken-and-stirred peoples of the North Sea, shaped by the turbulent Migration Period. It is important to note, however, that modern scholars have nuanced the traditional picture of massive population shifts during this era. Nonetheless, the slaughter of King Finn was an event that occurred even before the Middle Ages began—and it was widely known. This is unsurprising, as the story involved both the king of a powerful maritime confederacy of sea people, the Frisians, and the legendary future invaders of Britain, Hengest and Horsa.

a sea tribe

The Frisians emerged during the Migration Period as the most prominent tribe dominating the North Sea through their ships, sails, nautical skills, cultural heritage, and trade goods. They established and maintained extensive trading networks connecting the British Isles, southern Scandinavia, and the Continent. Throughout the Early Middle Ages, the North Sea was even known as mare Fresicum—the Frisian Sea.

At ipsi, cum navigarent circa Pictos, vastaverunt Orcades insulas, et venerunt et occupaverunt regiones plurimas ultra Mare Frenessicum usque ad confinium Pictorum.

But when they sailed around the Picts, they wasted the Orkney islands, and they went and occupied many regions past the Frisian Sea till the border of the Picts (Historia brittonum of Nennius, eighth/ninth century AD quoting Gildas, sixth century AD).

Mare Fresicum, id est quod inter nos Scottosque est.

The Frisian Sea, that lies between us and the Scots (Historia brittonum of Nennius, eighth/ninth century AD).

It was not only the Frisians who emerged in this region at the close of the Migration Period. The Salian Franks—already mentioned—also stepped onto the stage of history. Further inland, south of Frisia, the area known as pagus Hamaland (in what is now part of the province of Gelderland) served as the cradle of the Merovingian Empire. From there, the Franks expanded southward into present-day Belgium, laying the foundations for what would become Francia — and eventually France. But do not tell the French: their roots are, in fact, Dutch!

Now, just how unique is everything described above? And that is before you even dive into the historic battle of King Finn—a story we have purposely saved for later in this post. Try to visualize all of these landscapes, peoples, and events as you read about the battle at Finnsburh. Tolkien certainly did. He not only reimagined an ancient, mythical world in his writings but also specifically studied the dramatic tale of King Finn to inspire his work. His detailed study, Finn and Hengest, was published posthumously, shedding light on this fascinating chapter of early medieval history.

3. The Freswæle at Finnsburh

What was all the fuss about in the hall of the young King Finn nearly 1,600 years ago? Was it a routine power struggle? A case of the usual treacherous in-laws? A tragic love story? Or was it the ambitious Hengest—later founder of the Kentish royal dynasty, the Oiscingas—who had far greater plans for himself?

King Finn and agitated Jutes by Peter Nicolai Abo

Unfortunately, reconstructing exactly what happened is no easy task. The bard who recounts the story of Finnsburh to Beowulf and the other warriors assumes his mead-drinking audience already knows the tale, and so he skips over much of the context. Modern neoliberal bureaucrats might put it this way: “Just give me a few bullet points.” The same applies to the Finnsburh Fragment. The poet’s compressed storytelling makes the full meaning elusive.

Still, here is one valid historical reconstruction of how events may have unfolded:

King Finn’s Fall: The End of the Peace-Weaving Web

King Finn, son of Folcwald and young ruler of Frisia, was married to Hildeburh—a daughter of King Hælfdane Hoc, a descendant of the heraldic Scyldingas and ruler of the Hocingas. While the precise identity of the Hocingas remains uncertain, they were likely a Danish people. Hildeburh’s marriage was a classic example of a Germanic friðowebba—a 'peace weaver'—or in the modern Mid Frisian language, fredeweb: a woman whose marriage forged kinship ties between peoples, promoting peace through their shared offspring—in this case, between the Frisians and (Half) Danes. Mothers of warriors play a crucial role in the epic poem Beowulf as well (Fahey 2021).

Roughly twenty years after their marriage, when young Prince Hnaef and Hælfdane—Hildeburh’s brother and thus King Finn’s brother-in-law—were staying at Finn’s stronghold in Frisia for the Yule celebration, a violent conflict broke out between the Danes and Frisians. By that time, Finn and Hildeburh’s son would have been around twenty years old.

The cause of this initial clash is not explicitly given. However, King Finn’s political maneuvering may have played a role. Through his marriage to Hildeburh, Finn had allied himself with the Danes. Yet he also accepted into his service a displaced group of Jutes (Eotan), who had lost their own king and were wandering the region at the time. This uneasy arrangement was further inflamed by the presence of Hengest, who had accompanied the Danes. Hengest was no ordinary man. According to numerous sagas, he and his brother Horsa would later lead the Anglo-Saxon invasion of Britain. Even more provocative: Hengest was of royal blood, descended from King Wihtlæg of the Angles—the very king who had exterminated the Jutish royal line only a few generations earlier. For the Jutes in Finn’s service, this likely stirred deep resentment.

The ensuing battle lasted five days. During that time, Prince Hnaef, Finn’s (unnamed) son, and sixty warriors were besieged in the hall by the Jutes. It is possible that King Finn gave Hnaef and his men the hall to defend themselves, perhaps to avoid a direct confrontation. By the battle’s end, Prince Hnaef was killed. Finn suffered heavy losses—including, most tragically, the death of his own son, likely raised among the Danes by Prince Hnaef. Sadly, the son’s name is never recorded.

Leadership passed to the seasoned warrior Hengest. A peace treaty was negotiated between him and King Finn. To preserve the fragile peace and compensate for Hnaef’s death, Finn offered treasure to the Danes. In a powerful act of reconciliation, Hnaef and Finn’s son were cremated side by side on a pyre in Frisia (see note below), and the Danes returned home—leaving Hengest behind, possibly already an exile from his own people, the Angles, to spend the winter at King Finn’s hall with Queen Hildeburh.

But peace did not last. After the winter, the Danes returned to Frisia and demanded that Hengest honor his duty of vengeance. Bound by loyalty to the Danes and to Prince Hnaef, Hengest chose their side. A second battle ensued. King Finn was killed.

In the aftermath, Hengest and the Scyldinga warriors took Queen Hildeburh back with them to the land of the raiders—the land of the Danes.

Thus ended the fragile peace-web woven between the Frisians and the Danes.

***

The above is based on the texts of the epic poem Beowulf, the Fragment, and on the research of Tolkien and Bliss. We avoided naming too many names of warriors, etc., because it would become very confusing.

According to Tolkien, King Finn and Prince Hnaef were entangled in the fallout of an internal Jutish feud. The Finnsburh Episode occurred during a period when the Danes had taken control of the entire Danish archipelago, including Jutland. The Jutes had lost their kingdom for good. This political reality helps explain why the conquered Jutes were dismissively referred to as 'half-Danes'—a label that almost insultingly implied they were lesser Danes (Pollington 2023). These were the Jutes who sided with Hnaef at Finnsburh.

Meanwhile, other Jutes—those who had fled Danish dominance—had sought refuge in exile along the Frisian coast. These were the so-called free Jutes, who had aligned themselves with King Finn. In all likelihood, the half-Danes and the free Jutes 'hated each other's guts' (Shippey 2022, Pollington 2023), a deep animosity that played a key role in the unfolding conflict.

Tolkien suggests that Hengest played a double role, ultimately breaking the treaty and failing to uphold his oath—unlike King Finn, whom Tolkien appears to defend. Yes, the legendary founder of England, the warrior Hengest, emerges in this tale as an oath-breaker and backstabber. Some have even called it a prophetic omen of Brexit...

Hengest’s reputation for betrayal did not end at Finnsburh. After migrating to Britain with his brother Horsa, he is said to have committed treachery during peace negotiations with the Britons. According to legend, he and his men concealed daggers beneath their cloaks, and on Hengest’s signal, murdered all the Britons present. This grim event became known as Brad y Cyllyll Hirion—'the treason of the long knives.'

But perhaps we should give Hengest a bit more credit. When it comes to his role, the arguments of Bliss (1982) are more convincing: Hengest was not a Jute, but an Angle—and not just any Angle, but a descendant of the Angle royal line. Tolkien assumed Hengest was a Jute, based on Old English historical sources that mention Jutes invading Kent. From this, he deduced that Hengest must have been a Jute as well, although the texts never explicitly say so.

If Hengest was in fact an Angle, his position becomes more complex. Like others caught up in the shifting allegiances of the time, he may have been coerced by the Danes—his loyalty demanded under pressure—to avenge the death of Prince Hnaef. His situation after the battle was, or remained, precarious: likely no longer welcome among the Frisians, rejected by the Jutes, and perhaps already estranged from his own people, the Angles.

A final word on the illustrious Hengest. Shortly before King Finn’s death—around the year 410, when the Romans withdrew from Britannia—local Briton chieftains had begun recruiting mercenaries, including Jutes, Angles, and Saxons, to defend their territories against raids by the Picts and Gaels. These hired warriors soon spread word back on the Continent: the land across the sea was fertile, and the Britons were weak.

Not long after the battle of Finnsburh, Hengest and his brother Horsa launched their now-famous assault on England. Coincidence?

But, if you do not like politics, it can still be a tragic love story, between Queen Hildeburh and King Finn. It is up to you!

Curious to explore the story yourself? Below, the reader will find the original texts of both the Finnsburh Fragment and the Finnsburh Episode from the epic poem Beowulf, accompanied by an English translation.

We highly recommend reading the (translated) epic poem Beowulf if the reader wants to gain a vivid understanding of the culture closely related to the Frisians during the pre- and Early Middle Ages. It is no coincidence that Tolkien—the creator of The Lord of the Rings—had a special fascination with the Battle of Finnsburh, as described in the epic poem Beowulf and the Finnsburh Fragment.

For instance, Beowulf reveals that pre- and early medieval society functioned as a gift economy. Rings—actually bracelets—made of silver or gold were ceremoniously broken, and the pieces given as tokens to build or reinforce alliances. Important warriors’ and kings’ swords often featured two rings attached to the pommel—the so-called ring-swords mentioned earlier in this blog post. As a result, kings, overkings, and chiefs were frequently described as 'ring givers' or 'ring breakers'—true lords of rings. Who would not want to belong to that inner circle?

Now the reader can also see why, to this very day, a marriage in the North Sea region is still considered an alliance of consent, sealed with the exchange of rings.

Note 1 — Intriguingly, in the Free State of Bavaria, in south-eastern Germany, the events of the battle at Finnsburh are still remembered. For many generations, a noble family there has honoured the legacy by naming their children after Hnaef and Hoc, two central figures in the conflict (Hammer 2005, Shippey 2022).

Note 2 — More Frisian kings: The oldest Frisian kings known by name lived in the Late Iron Age, namely Verritus and Malorix. They lived in the first century AD. Next after Verritus and Malorix is King or dux 'warlord' Corsold. He lived around the year 500. He was not a king of Frisia but had a small kingdom in Brittany. King Audulf, written in Latin as Audulfus, lived in the sixth century and is known from coins found in Central Netherlands. Another early medieval king is King Aldgisl, who lived in the seventh century. Perhaps the father of King or Duke Radbod, who lived at the turn of the seventh and eighth centuries. The final king on the list is King or Duke Poppo, who lived at the beginning of the eighth century.

Note 3 — In this blog post, we have followed the traditional view, based on historic documents, that the warrior Hengest invaded England. However, some recent scholarship challenges the idea of a large-scale invasion following the Roman withdrawal in 410. Instead, it suggests that Britain’s material culture gradually shifted away from Mediterranean influences and realigned itself with North Sea cultural patterns—explaining the strong northern influences found in the archaeological record. Under this interpretation, Hengest and his men were not invaders but likely mercenaries. Hiring Germanic mercenaries had been common practice during Roman times and probably continued thereafter (Oosthuizen 2019). Read also our blog post Frisian Mercenaries in the Roman Army. Fighting for honour and glory.

Note 4 — In the epic poem Beowulf, Prince Hnaef and the son of King Finn are cremated on a pyre. This was probably an exceptional practice in the flat, treeless salt marshes of Frisia. If you want to learn more about the burial practices of the sea people in the terp region during this era, read our blog post How to bury your mother-in-law.

Suggested music

Sex Pistols, God Save The Queen (1977)

Finn, T., Fraction Too Much Friction (1983)

Eminem, Revenge IX (2023)

The Finnsburh Fragment

(...) hornas byrnað? Hnæf hléoþrode ðá heaþogeong cyning: né ðis ne dagað éastan né hér draca ne fléogeð né hér ðisse healle hornas ne byrnað. Ac hér forþ berað, fugelas singað, gylleð gráeghama, gúðwudu hlynneð, scyld scefte oncwyð. Nú scýneð þes móna waðol under wolcnum; nú árísað wéadáeda ðé ðisne folces níð fremman willað. Ac onwacnigeað nú, wígend míne, habbað éowre linda, hicgeaþ on ellen, winnað on orde, wesað on móde. Ðá árás mænig goldhladen ðegn, gyrde hine his swurde; ðá tó dura éodon drihtlice cempan Sigeferð and Éaha, hyra sword getugon and æt óþrum durum Ordláf and Gúþláf and Hengest sylf hwearf him on láste. Ðá gýt Gárulf Gúðere stýrde, ðæt hé swá fréolíc feorh forman síþe tó ðáere healle durum hyrsta ne báere nú hyt níþa heard ányman wolde ac hé frægn ofer eal undearninga déormód hæleþ hwá ðá duru héolde. Sigeferþ is mín nama, cweþ hé. Ic eom Secgena léod, wreccea wíde cúð, fæla ic wéana gebád heordra hilda. Ðé is gýt hér witod swæþer ðú sylf tó mé sécean wylle. Ðá wæs on healle wælslihta gehlyn, sceolde cellod bord cénum on handa, bánhelm berstan –buruhðelu dynede– oð æt ðáere gúðe Gárulf gecrangealra áerest eorðbúendra Gúðláfes sunu, ymbe hyne gódra fæla hwearflícra hráew. Hræfen wandrode sweart and sealobrún. Swurdléoma stód swylce eal Finnisburh fýrenu wáere. Ne gefrægn ic náefre wurþlícor æt wera hilde sixtig sigebeorna sél gebáeran né néfre swétne medo sél forgyldan ðonne Hnæfe guldan his hægstealdas. Hig fuhton fíf dagas, swá hyra nán ne féol drihtgesíða, ac hig ðá duru héoldon. Ðá gewát him wund hæleð on wæg gangan, sáede þæt his byrne ábrocen wáere heresceorp unhrór and éac wæs his helm ðýrel. Ðá hine sóna frægn folces hyrde, hú ðá wígend hyra wunda genáeson oððe hwæþer ðáera hyssa (...)

(...) gables burning? Then proclaimed Hnaef, the battle-young king: This is not the eastern dawn nor is a dragon flying here nor here does this hall's gables burn. But here they bear forth, birds screech, the grey-coated wolf bays, the war-wood clashes, the shield answers the shaft. Now the moon shines, wandering under the clouds; now woe-deeds come to pass which this people's hatred desires to fulfill. But awake now, my warriors, grasp your linden-wood shields, resolve upon courage, trive to the vanguard, be high-spirited. Then arose many a gold-laden thane, girded his sword then moved to the door the noble champions Sigeferth and Eaha, drew their swords, and at the other door, Ordlaf and Guthlaf and Hengest himself came just behind them. Then yet Garulf directed Guthere that he so excellent a life at the first journey to the doors of the hall, armored, should not venture since now one hard in hatred wished to take it away; but he asked over all, openly, the daring-hearted hero, who held the door. Sigeferth is my name, said he. I am a man of the Sedgean, an adventurer widely known, I have endured many misfortunes, fierce battles. Even now appointed here for you which thing for yourself from me you will attain. Then was in the hall the tumult of carnage, the round shield-board must in the hands of the bold, the bone-helm burst –the planks of the fortress resounded– until in the battle Garulf fell the first of all of the dwellers in the land, Guthlaf's son, around him many good mortals' carcasses. The raven hovered sweart and shimmering-dark. Sword-light stood as if all of Finnesburh were in flames. I have never heard that more worthily in battle of men of sixty victory-warriors bearing themselves better nor ever for sweet mead making better requital than to Hnaef gave his retainers. They fought for five days, as none of them fell, the troop-companions, but they held the doors. Then the hero went wounded, passing away, he said that his byrnie was broken apart, his war-garb weak and also his helmet was pierced. Then immediately asked him the protector of the people how well the warriors their wounds survived or which of the young men (...)

The Beowulf episode

(...) þær wæs sang ond sweg samod ætgædere fore Healfdenes hildewisan, gomenwudu greted, gid oft wrecen, ðonne healgamen Hroþgares scop æfter medobence mænan scolde be Finnes eaferum, ða hie se fær begeat, hæleð Healfdena, Hnæf Scyldinga, in Freswæle feallan scolde. Ne huru Hildeburh herian þorfte Eotena treowe; unsynnum wearð beloren leofum æt þam lindplegan, bearnum ond broðrum; hie on gebyrd hruron, gare wunde. þæt wæs geomuru ides! Nalles holinga Hoces dohtor meotodsceaft bemearn, syþðan morgen com, ða heo under swegle geseon meahte morþorbealo maga, þær heo ær mæste heold worolde wynne. Wig ealle fornam Finnes þegnas nemne feaum anum, þæt he ne mehte on þæm meðelstede wig Hengeste wiht gefeohtan, ne þa wealafe wige forþringan þeodnes ðegna; ac hig him geþingo budon, þæt hie him oðer flet eal gerymdon, healle ond heahsetl, þæt hie healfre geweald wið Eotena bearn agan moston, ond æt feohgyftum Folcwaldan sunu dogra gehwylce Dene weorþode, Hengestes heap hringum wenede efne swa swiðe sincgestreonum fættan goldes, swa he Fresena cyn on beorsele byldan wolde. ða hie getruwedon on twa healfa fæste frioðuwære. Fin Hengeste elne, unflitme aðum benemde þæt he þa wealafe weotena dome arum heolde, þæt ðær ænig mon wordum ne worcum wære ne bræce, ne þurh inwitsearo æfre gemænden ðeah hie hira beaggyfan banan folgedon ðeodenlease, þa him swa geþearfod wæs; gyf þonne Frysna hwylc frecnan spræce ðæs morþorhetes myndgiend wære, þonne hit sweordes ecg seðan scolde. Ad wæs geæfned ond icge gold ahæfen of horde. Herescyldinga betst beadorinca wæs on bæl gearu. æt þæm ade wæs eþgesyne swatfah syrce, swyn ealgylden, eofer irenheard, æþeling manig wundum awyrded; sume on wæle crungon. Het ða Hildeburh æt Hnæfes ade hire selfre sunu sweoloðe befæstan, banfatu bærnan ond on bæl don eame on eaxle. Ides gnornode, geomrode giddum. Guðrinc astah. Wand to wolcnum wælfyra mæst, hlynode for hlawe; hafelan multon, bengeato burston, ðonne blod ætspranc, laðbite lices. Lig ealle forswealg, gæsta gifrost, þara ðe þær guð fornam bega folces; wæs hira blæd scacen. Gewiton him ða wigend wica neosian, freondum befeallen, Frysland geseon, hamas ond heaburh. Hengest ða gyt wælfagne winter wunode mid Finne eal unhlitme. Eard gemunde, þeah þe he ne meahte on mere drifan hringedstefnan; holm storme weol, won wið winde, winter yþe beleac isgebinde, oþðæt oþer com gear in geardas, swa nu gyt deð, þa ðe syngales sele bewitiað, wuldortorhtan weder. ða wæs winter scacen, fæger foldan bearm. Fundode wrecca, gist of geardum; he to gyrnwræce swiðor þohte þonne to sælade, gif he torngemot þurhteon mihte þæt he Eotena bearn inne gemunde. Swa he ne forwyrnde woroldrædenne, þonne him Hunlafing hildeleoman, billa selest, on bearm dyde, þæs wæron mid Eotenum ecge cuðe. Swylce ferhðfrecan Fin eft begeat sweordbealo sliðen æt his selfes ham, siþðan grimne gripe Guðlaf ond Oslaf æfter sæsiðe, sorge, mændon, ætwiton weana dæl; ne meahte wæfre mod forhabban in hreþre. ða wæs heal roden feonda feorum, swilce Fin slægen, cyning on corþre, ond seo cwen numen. Sceotend Scyldinga to scypon feredon eal ingesteald eorðcyninges, swylce hie æt Finnes ham findan meahton sigla, searogimma. Hie on sælade drihtlice wif to Denum feredon, læddon to leodum. (...)

(...) Then song and music mingled sounds in the presence of Healfdene's head-of-armies and harping was heard with the hero-lay as Hrothgar's singer the hall-joy woke along the mead-seats, making his song of that sudden raid on the sons of Finn. Healfdene's hero, Hnaef the Scylding, was fated to fall in the Frisian slaughter. Hildeburh needed not hold in value her enemies' honour! Innocent both were the loved ones she lost at the linden-play, bairn and brother, they bowed to fate, stricken by spears; ‘twas a sorrowful woman! None doubted why the daughter of Hoc bewailed her doom when dawning came, and under the sky she saw them lying, kinsmen murdered, where most she had kenned of the sweets of the world! By war were swept, too, Finn's own liegemen, and few were left; in the parleying-place he could ply no longer weapon, nor war could he wage on Hengest, and rescue his remnant by right of arms from the prince's thane. A pact he offered: another dwelling the Danes should have, hall and high-seat, and half the power should fall to them in Frisian land; and at the fee-gifts, Folcwald's son day by day the Danes should honor, the folk of Hengest favor with rings, even as truly, with treasure and jewels, with fretted gold, as his Frisian kin he meant to honor in ale-hall there. Pact of peace they plighted further on both sides firmly. Finn to Hengest with oath, upon honor, openly promised that woeful remnant, with wise-men's aid, nobly to govern, so none of the guests by word or work should warp the treaty, or with malice of mind bemoan themselves as forced to follow their fee-giver's slayer, lord-less men, as their lot ordained. Should Frisian, moreover, with foeman's taunt, that murderous hatred to mind recall, then edge of the sword must seal his doom. Oaths were given, and ancient gold heaped from hoard. The hardy Scylding, battle-thane best, on his bale-fire lay. All on the pyre were plain to see the gory sark, the gilded swine-crest, boar of hard iron, and athelings many slain by the sword: at the slaughter they fell. It was Hildeburh's hest, at Hnaef's own pyre the bairn of her body on brands to lay, his bones to burn, on the bale-fire placed, at his uncle's side. In sorrowful dirges bewept them the woman: great wailing ascended. Then wound up to welkin the wildest of death-fires, roared o'er the hillock: heads all were melted, gashes burst, and blood gushed out from bites of the body. Bale-fire devoured, greediest spirit, those spared not by war out of either folk: their flower was gone. Then hastened those heroes their home to see, friendless, to find the Frisian land, houses and high burg. Hengest still through the death-dyed winter dwelt with Finn, holding pact, yet of home he minded, though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive over the waters, now waves rolled fierce lashed by the winds, or winter locked them in icy fetters. Then fared another year to men's dwellings, as yet they do, the sun bright skies, that their season ever duly await. Far off winter was driven; fair lay earth's breast; and fain was the rover, the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep, and how to hasten the hot encounter where sons of the Frisians were sure to be. So he escaped not the common doom, when Hun with "Lafing," the light-of-battle, best of blades, his bosom pierced: its edge was famed with the Frisian earls. On fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise, on himself at home, the horrid sword-death; for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed, mourning their woes. Finn's wavering spirit bode not in breast. The burg was reddened with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain, king amid clansmen and the queen was taken. To their ship the Scylding warriors bore all the chattels the chieftain owned, whatever they found in Finn's domain of gems and jewels. The gentle wife o'er paths of the deep to the Danes they bore, led to her land. (...)

Featured image: Hengest (L) and King Finn (R) after impression by John Howe