The Deer Hunter of Fallward, and his Throne of the Marsh

Hans Faber
Dec 3, 2023
14 min read

Updated: Sep 23

lighthouse Kleine Preuße 'little Prussian' at the marsh near Wremem, Land Wursten

Near a terp called Fallward, close to the village of Wremen in the region of Land Wursten, archaeologists uncovered a remarkable site that opens a rare window onto life during the Migration Period—the world of the so-called ‘Old Saxons’ who once inhabited the tidal marshes of the Wadden Sea at the mouth of the River Weser. Excavations at the Fallward terp revealed two burial grounds dating from the early fourth to late fifth centuries, yielding spectacular wooden artifacts. Their survival is thanks to the oxygen-poor clay soil, which created perfect conditions for organic material to endure through the ages. Among the most striking finds is the so-called Thron der Marsch—the “Throne of the Marsh.” And that is only the beginning: this extraordinary site still has much more to tell.

The Fallward excavations are highly significant for understanding the early coastal history of the wider region. Their relevance rests on several key points:

Firstly, the burials and artifacts date back to the Migration Period—the great wandering of peoples that began in this remote corner of the world as the Roman Empire crumbled in the fourth century, and that continued into the Early Middle Ages, when a new order had gradually taken shape.

Secondly, the region itself held great importance. Even in Roman times, this north-western German area—the so-called Elbe-Weser triangle—occupied a central position. Its rivers opened routes deep into the hinterland, while the sea connected it to Scandinavia and the British Isles. This strategic role continued into the Migration Period. Numerous prestigious imported objects have been recovered from the River Weser estuary, including no fewer than fourteen gold bracteates from southern Scandinavia (Aufderhaar 2017).

Thirdly, all evidence suggests that the inhabitants of the triangle were integrated into a wider supra-regional elite network. The marshes of Land Wursten, where no fewer than nine terps—artificial dwelling mounds—were raised from the first century AD onward, may well have formed part of a central place. From south to north these included: Weddewarden, Imsum (formerly Dingen), Barward, Fallward, Wremen, Feddersen, Mulsum, Dorum, and Alsum. Not long afterward, other regions of Frisia would also emerge as central places of power, notably the territory of Westergo in the northwest of the modern province of Friesland, and the River Rhine estuary area in the present-day province of Zuid Holland.

The region of Land Wursten is dotted with countless terps—locally known as Wurten. Archaeologists estimate there may have been as many as 400 of these mounds, ranging from dwelling mounds to Hofwurten, refuge mounds built to shelter livestock during floods. The very name Land Wursten is derived from Land der Wurten; 'land of the terps' (Wremer Chronik 2014).

Elbe-Weser triangle in Early Middle Ages, by NIhK

Thirdly, the artifacts belong to a people who played a pivotal role in the great migrations across the North Sea during the Migration Period: the Saxons—also called the Continental or Old Saxons—who trace their roots specifically to this region. From the second quarter of the fourth century onward, large groups began moving westward. They resettled the tidal marshlands once inhabited by the Frisii, or Old Frisians, and the Chauci, and many eventually crossed the sea to England, laying the foundations of the Anglo-Saxon world. This adventus Saxonum—the 'coming of the Saxons'—showed that not only wisdom, but also peoples, came from the East. During this era, the maritime Old Saxons, the emerging (new) Frisians, and the newly established Anglo-Saxons remained closely bound, both culturally and linguistically until the seventh century. For more on the origins of the Frisians, see our blog post Have a Frisians Cocktail! A Rich Composition.

The Romans also spoke of the Ingaevones, a collective name for the peoples dwelling along the southern shores of the North Sea. The languages of these tribes were closely related and are today grouped under the label North Sea Germanic, or Ingvaeonic. The Saxons who inhabited the tidal marshes of the Wadden Sea did not yet speak Old Saxon. Rather, their tongue was an “undifferentiated West Germanic” variety—one likely shaped in part by the presence of Roman culture and the Latin language in the region (Rübekeil 2022).

As we will explore later in this blog post, the grave goods also show clear traces of Roman influence in their material culture (Schöne 2006). Frisians, Anglo-Saxons, and—to a somewhat lesser degree—Saxons shared a common linguistic heritage within a broad dialect continuum. It is also unlikely that the people of Fallward thought of themselves as Saxons. Originally, the term referred mainly to seaborne raiders. Only during the Saxon-Frankish wars of the Early Middle Ages did a collective identity under the name Saxons begin to take shape (Van der Tuuk 2024).

During the Migration Period and the early stages of the Early Middle Ages, the southern North Sea coastal region should be seen as a “dynamic cultural system that makes sense in its own right and operated largely outside the homogenizing tendencies of major political centers of power” (Deckers 2017)—such as the Merovingian kingdoms. Only from the eighth century onward did clearly distinct languages begin to crystallize within this maritime zone, which stretched from England and Flanders along the coasts of the Netherlands and Germany up to southwestern Jutland.

In other words, imagining the people living in the River Weser estuary during the fourth and fifth centuries—part of the Elbe-Weser triangle—is like picturing the first Saxon migrants or new Frisians settling the nearly empty marshlands once inhabited by the Old Frisians, the Frisii, following the habitation hiatus in the coastal Netherlands between roughly AD 325–425. Some historians also suggest that this region, along the Danish peninsula, served as a conduit for the westward spread of runic script into Frisia and England (Düwel & Nedoma 2023).

During the Early Middle Ages, the region of Land Wursten underwent a cultural shift from Saxon to Frisian, with its people—the Wurstfriesen—speaking a local Frisian variety. Over time, along with the province of Groningen and the region of Ostfriesland, the region gradually transitioned linguistically from Frisian to Low Saxon (Platt), and today Standard German dominates, leaving Platt increasingly at risk of disappearing. This linguistic and cultural evolution illustrates how fluid identity has been, and is, in this dynamic maritime world. Learn more about the region of Land Wursten in our blog post Joan of Arc, an inspiration for Land Wursten.

grave of Der Bootsmann and artifacts from the Fallward excavations

The Fallward excavations

The excavations near the Fallward terp—as said, locally known as a Wurt—took place between 1993 and 1998. Archaeologists uncovered two gravefields containing a total of 260 burials. Most were cremations, but around 60 were inhumations, which preserved the site’s exceptional wooden artifacts. This mixture of burial practices reflects the funerary traditions along the southern North Sea coast during the Migration Period. These customs continued until the end of the Early Middle Ages, when Christian practices gradually replaced older pagan rites, favouring inhumation over cremation and burial without grave goods.

In his work Germania, the Roman historian and politician Tacitus writes about the Germanic tribes in the north:

Statim e somno, quem plerumque in diem extrahunt, lavantur, saepius calida, ut apud quos plurimum hiems occupat. Lauti cibum capiunt: Separatae singulis sedes et sua cuique mensa. Tum ad negotia nec minus saepe ad convivia procedunt armati. Diem noctemque continuare potando nulli probrum. Crebrae, ut inter vinolentos, rixae raro conviciis, saepius caede et vulneribus transiguntur. Book Germania, paragraph 22, by Tacitus (AD 56-120)

Immediately after sleep, which they normally extend into the day, they wash themselves, usually with warm water because it is often winter for them. After washing, they eat: everyone has their own chair and table. Then they leave armed for business, but no less often to banquets. Drinking all day and night is not a shame for anyone. As often happens with drunkards, violent quarrels take place, rarely ending in swearing, but more often in murder and bloodshed.

Aside from the evident social issue of alcohol consumption—significant enough to be noted by the Romans—Tacitus observed that everyone had their own seat and table. This observation is strikingly supported by the Fallward excavations: in the grave of a young girl, affectionately named Frauke by the researchers, archaeologists uncovered a fully preserved stool and a small table, both with turned wooden legs (see image). Although Tacitus wrote two centuries earlier, these finds appear to confirm his account that each person had their own chair and table. Amazing, we think.

The girl, estimated to be around three or four years old, lived during the first half of the fourth century and was buried with great care and affection in the summertime. She was laid to rest in a reused wooden trough, covered with hay, and surrounded by a ditch measuring eight meters in diameter. A long, slender rod of hazel wood was ritually placed inside the grave, hazel being believed to possess protective powers (Peek et al 2022). She wore a woollen dress fastened with fibulas, and alongside her small table and stool, several toys were buried with her. Other grave goods included ceramic vessels, a worked wooden bowl, and a small casket made of maple wood.

Another remarkable grave belonged to a woman aged between 45 and 55 years—a considerable age for the period. She was adorned with a variety of jewellery, including finger rings, a bronze hairpin, a silver fibula, and two conical tutulus fibulas, as well as a necklace of glass beads. She wore leather shoes, and her body was wrapped in leather and laid on an oak plank, with reed cushions beneath. Among the grave goods were a wooden vessel with a finely turned round lid, two bowls, and several pieces of pottery. As in the child’s grave, slender hazel rods were ritually placed alongside her remains, continuing the tradition of symbolic protection.

A third remarkable grave belonged to a little girl of about one and a half years, dated to the first half of the fifth century. She wore woollen clothing, silver-plated fibulas, and glass beads. The girl was laid to rest in an old trough, accompanied by a hazel wood rod, and, most strikingly, covered with a layer of flowers. These included clover, red bartsia, and autumn hawkbit, among others. The care taken in her burial makes the grief of her family almost palpable.

After the female graves, an intriguing male burial emerges. It belongs to a man of approximately 40 years, dated between 405 and 422. He was laid on a bed of reed and buried with a longbow made of hazel wood and several arrows. Curiously, the bow lacked a bowstring, and the arrows had no iron heads—in fact, they were never used.

Boat graves

Among the most remarkable discoveries at the Fallward Wurt excavations are two boat graves. While such burials are well known from Scandinavia and the famous site of Sutton Hoo on the south-eastern coast of England, they are often associated with Vikings. Yet these graves demonstrate that the tradition is much older and part of a broader material culture, as clearly shown by these two burials.

One boat grave contained a female, buried in a dugout canoe dated to the first quarter of the fifth century. She was laid on a bed of hay, and her grave goods included a stool and two wooden bowls. The other, more striking boat grave was situated at the edge of the gravefield and contained the most extensive array of grave goods. It belonged to a male—given the name Heinrich by the researchers—and is dated to the mid-fifth century (Schön 2006, Peek et al 2022).

The second boat grave is also a dugout canoe—an oak vessel measuring almost 4.5 meters in length. The grave was covered with wooden planks arranged at an upward angle, creating a small chamber (see image). A similar, though more modest, boat grave was discovered at Solleveld, an area in the old dunes just south of the city of The Hague in the province of Zuid Holland, which was Frisia territory at the time. The Solleveld boat grave is considerably younger, dating to the first half of the seventh century. For more, see our blog post Rowing souls of the dead to Britain: the ferryman of Solleveld.

Among the grave goods in the male’s boat grave was a personal table made of field maple with turned wooden legs, reminiscent of the young girl’s grave described earlier. Additionally, a bowl crafted from sycamore and an alder-wood vessel shaped like a bird—possibly a pelican (see image)—were found. Yet the grave held even more remarkable and striking artifacts beyond these.

It is worth noting that these dugout canoes match the description provided by the Roman writer Pliny in his Naturalis Historia, where he detailed the vessels used by pirates along the North Sea coast in the first century AD (Looijenga et al 2017).

Roman vessel with runic text 'look here', early fifth century

An interesting discovery is a runic inscription together with an image of a Late Roman merchant ship carved on a worked bone with a hole in it, found at the mouth of the River Weser and dated probably early fifth century. It reads ᛚᛟᚲᛟᛗ:ᚺMᚱ lokom her which translates to ‘I look here’ or ‘behold here.’ A possible explanation of the text is that it is a charm against enemy fleet (Haywood 1991). Or was it related to piracy? The inscription illustrates the connectedness of this region with the Roman world (see further below) and with seafaring.

The Throne of the Marsh

And then finally, the Throne of the Marsh. It was found in a grave of a male who was buried in an almost 4.5-meter-long dugout canoe made of oak wood. Beside the 'throne', a table made of field maple was also found, just like in the girl's grave. Furthermore, a bowl made of sycamore and a vessel made of alder wood in the shape of a bird (see image). The throne is actually a block chair and is dated around the year 420. It is 65 centimeters high and dug out in one piece from an alder tree log, also called a Klotzstuhl or Prunkstuhl in the German language. The chair is richly decorated with carved geometric patterns.

block chair and footstool, ca. AD 420, Fallward

In addition to the block chair, a wooden footstool has been preserved from the same grave. On the side of the footstool, the following mirrored runic text is carved into the wood: ᚲᛋᚫᛗᛖᛚᛚᚫ ᛚXᚢᛋᚲᚫᚦI and reads ksamella lguskaþi. The first word must be read as scamella, from scamnum which is Vulgar Latin for 'bench'. The second word lguskaþi literally means 'deer/elk-damage' or Hirschschädigung (Theune-Grosskopf & Nedoma 2006, Düwel & Nedoma 2023). The element lgu of lguskaþi must be viewed in connection with the word ksamella in front of it. With the 'a' transferred/shared from the end of the first word to the beginning of the second word, which was common in runic writing, you get algu. This word is similar to the Old Norwegion word elgr meaning 'elk'. The element skapi derives from the Gothic verb skaþjan meaning 'to damage' (Rübekeil 2022). An alternative explanation for the element skapi is Beschaffenheit or Gestalt in the German language (Köbler 2019). In other words 'nature' or 'shape'. Comparable with the modern Mid Frisian verb skeppe meaning 'to create/to shape'. So, 'deer-depiction'. In conjunction with the image of the deer and a hunting dog, this explanation seems less likely, however.

The full runic inscription reads, therefore, skamell alguskaþi which translates to 'bench of elk/deer hunter'. Indeed, The Deer Hunter. On the backside of the footstool, an image of a deer or elk being killed by a dog is depicted. Representations of hunting dogs are well-known from (Late) Roman artifacts (Schön 2006).

The term 'throne' is a bit too much. We would not dare to contest the true king of the marsh, King Alfred the Great of the West Saxons. Nevertheless, a block chair must have belonged to a person of stature (Haio Zimmermann 2015). Age of the male is estimated around 50. The additional silver-plated fittings of a Roman belt which was part of the grave gifts, suggest that the man had served as a mercenary in the Roman army before, for example, stationed in northern Gaul. Being a veteran of the Roman army, he enjoyed respect and had gathered wealth (Hansen 2010, Peek et al 2022). Was his name Alguskaþi then? Or was that just the name of his loyal and watchful dog who always would lay at his feet while the elder grey-haired man sat on his chair orating ad nauseam about his past battle adventures? A barmbraccum (literally 'lap dog') as a hunting dog was called in the early-medieval codex Lex Frisionum. Knowing how important dogs were during the Late Iron Age until the Early Middle Ages. A bit like the thirteenth-century double tomb in Worcester Cathedral, where Sir John de Beauchamp and his wife rest their feet on two greyhounds.

By the way, the tradition of block chairs continued in remoted Scandinavia well into modern times. It was the seat of the master of the house, while the other family members had to sit on modest chairs. We did not made it up.

Adam and Eve, with Eve sitting on a block chair. Detail of a former mural of the stave church at Hallingdal, Norway

Since it is really the same region and era, we must mention King Finn Folcwald. He was a king of Frisia around the year 450 and is mentioned in several early medieval texts, including the epic poem Beowulf. Where his citadel was, is a big question mark to this date. But with the block chair of Folcwald (not Fallward!), we can imagine how the throne he sat on could have looked like. For more about King Finn, and how he was betrayed and killed, read our blog post Tolkien pleaded in favour of King Finn. An immortalized royal tragedy.

Note 1 — The etymology of Fallward, albeit we have not found any article on it, might be the terp or Wurt of a person named Falco, Falke, Folc, or Folko. Placenames with the suffix -wurt, -ward, -warden, -werd, -wurd, etc., dating to the Middle Ages, are typical for the Wadden Sea coastal area and are often combined with the name of the person (and kin) who once inhabited the artificial settlement mound. There are so many village names ending with -wurd, etc. in the area that you tend to think people did not have a lot of imagination and creativity back then. Or was 'me, myself and I' always the dominant culture? Anyways, Falco's Wurt or Folc's Ward might be an explanation. Coming close to Folcwald but just not.

Note 2 — The Wurt Fallward excavations are comparable to the Feddersen Wierde (another local term for 'terp') excavation 2.5 kilometers north of Wurt Fallward. At Feddersen Wierde, a complete terp settlement has been excavated. It dates from the same era as Wurt Fallward. One of the buildings at Fedderson Wierde has been identified as a hall or Herrenhof der Sitz, the seat of a local ruler (Peek et al 2022).

Note 3 — If interested in more history of the Lower River Weser area, check our blog post “Ich mag Ihre Pelzer- und Schustertöchter nicht!"—a kiss of death. A true spirit of an already fading Frisian freedom.