An example of such a mound was discovered in Cumbira by independent archeologist Steve Dickinson, who said: “This is a rare” one, because should it turn out to be what it looks like it would mark a monumental Viking ship burial in England associated with a named leader.
The mound is on a remote part of northwest coastland overlooking the Irish Sea, within a topography in which boundaries have long been of importance: shoreline, estate boundaries and the intangible boundaries which medieval authours applied to define power. Dickinson relates the setting to allusions to saga times which speak of a burial “in England, in a mound upon a boundary;” and to a Latin name of place which she translates as “King mound.” Its true whereabouts have not been revealed, as research progresses, a safeguard that has been influenced more by conservation than by the long shadow of illicit collecting.
The major argument is particular. Dickinson is of the opinion that the mound might be the long-lost grave of Ivar the Boneless, a Viking king who passed away in 873 A.D. whose nickname has remained controversial. Subsidiary sources have proposed the epithet to mean something medical; there are other traditions that the epithet is recalled by other names of him, such as “the Legless” and “the Dragon.” The key point which keeps all the archeologists on their toes is not the legend but the quantifiable correspondence of text, ground, and material evidence. Dickinson has given the mound a height of about 20 feet and a diameter of nearly 200 feet, large enough to rival the footprint of the elite burials of the ships in other parts of northern Europe.
The mound has built up its evidence at the outside and not within. The discoveries of Dickinson and team have been typical of high status Viking-age operation: massive ship rivets and roves which suggest the existence of clinker vessels and lead weights related to commerce and weighing of silver. He has also located 39 smaller mounds in the area implying that there was a complex of mounds of the mortuaries as opposed to being a single monument. According to one of the interpretations, these satellites are viewed as an honor guard in earth and stone- the burials becoming clumped together, as by the halls and retinues in life, to maintain hierarchy even after death.
Even the burial of ships is a power language. Placing an elite person in a boat under a mound tied identity to the sea, memory to engineering: the lines in the hull, the iron rivets, and the choice of timber were designed to come together under pressure. England is no exception since it also has a well-known ship burial site at Sutton Hoo, although it is a part of the pre-Viking Anglo-Saxon world. Dickinson contends that that which was developing in Cumbira would not be contemporary and culturally so- and, should it be substantiated, without obvious analogy in Britain during the Viking era. The archaeology of Viking-age graves is in general evidence of the importance of single oddities in comparison with huge mounds.
In Norway a woman, also belonging to the Viking age, was buried in Trondelag and attracted attention when archaeologists discovered two scallop shells right in her mouth, something that was not recorded in their pre-Christian graves. The find highlights the way in which items such as shells, bones of birds, dress fasteners can say something about who we are and what we believe in in a manner that modern viewers fail to instantly grasp even when the grave appears to be of a “typical” appearance.
And in Denmark, there was a new burial ground in the area of Aarhus, dated 10th century, of some 30 graves with an apparently “spectacular” variety of grave implements and again the pattern is the same: what was precious to the individual was brought to burial, whether of practical necessity or costly ornament. These sites contribute to putting into perspective what a mound of a Cumbrian “king may” hold had it ever been studied on the ground.
On this occasion, the further actions by Dickinson are directed toward seeing without digging. The geophysical surveys (ground penetrating radar, etc.) designed to map internal features, including voids, timber traces, or ship-shaped structures, but not the permanent effects of excavation, are planned work. The construction of a burial mound in a place made by tide, wind, and centuries of reuse can be the most durable monument surviving, containing its own story until the time when the right technique to enquire gets accurate enough to pose the question itself in the ground itself.
