Peter Sawyer's Anglo-Saxon Charters: an Annotated List and Bibliography was published by the Royal Historical Society in 1968, in their Guides and Handbooks series. 'Sawyer' at once became the standard work of reference for the study of Anglo-Saxon charters. Hitherto, charters had been cited by their numbers in the nineteenth-century editions published by Kemble (KCD) and Birch (BCS); henceforth, charters were cited by their numbers in Sawyer. The catalogue aimed to be comprehensive, establishing a corpus of surviving texts. For each text, 'Sawyer' provided information on manuscripts, facsimiles, editions, and translations, and references to published commentary or discussion. Its existence transformed the subject, and contributed very significantly to the advances in knowledge and understanding of Anglo-Saxon England which have occurred since 1970.
We are most grateful to Professor Sawyer for providing a personal account of his work in compiling the catalogue. The account was written by PHS in the summer of 2010, and has been edited for this website by SDK.
The making of ‘Sawyer’
Peter Sawyer
I began compiling this list as a research student in Manchester University (1951–3). Domesday Book was my main interest, but when Christopher Cheney suggested that a list of comments on the charters would be useful I began to collect them, with Eric John’s help. After moving to Edinburgh in 1953 I persuaded James Ure, who was then preparing an edition of the Old English version of the Benedictine Ordinal, to help. He and Eric John continued collecting comments for several years, leaving me free to concentrate on the manuscripts. At an early stage Neil Ker persuaded me to attempt a comprehensive survey of manuscripts from churches that had roots before the Norman Conquest, not only cartularies but also others that might have charters copied in blank spaces or margins. This was a serious challenge that I was only able to meet thanks to the help given by owners and librarians, especially those responsible for the major collections. For the purpose I only needed most manuscripts for a few minutes but cartularies and many transcripts could each take an hour or more. Fortunately the British Museum allowed me to order many more manuscripts than the normal daily limit of six. The Public Record Office and Bodleian were similarly accommodating. The British Museum also helped by allowing me to borrow Kemble, Codex Diplomaticus, and Birch, Cartularium Saxonicum, from the departmental library. I did not examine French manuscripts, and relied on the published Calendars for charters enrolled in the P.R.O.
In Edinburgh I acquired a disused card-index cabinet, and began to transfer all the information about manuscripts, editions, facsimiles, translations onto cards of different colours, using white for comments. Christopher Cheney approved the method, and was delighted to introduce me to Penguin Island in which Anatole France described how Professor Tapir was smothered by a cascade of coloured cards containing all art ‘classed alphabetically and in order of subjects’. In the card index the charters were originally arranged by editions (Birch, Kemble, Crawford, Harmer 1914 etc,). Before the publication of Godfrey Davis’s list of cartularies (1958), I stayed with him in Wimbledon while working in the BM, and I am sure that he was mainly responsible for my generous treatment there. One incident in this survey may amuse you. When I checked references to MSS in the College of Arms, the Herald who was in charge asked me what I was after. When I told him that I was looking for Anglo-Saxon Charters he replied: ‘We have got one downstairs!’ It was the ‘original’ of S 1026. It seems to have been overlooked because in the Catalogue of the Herald’s Exhibition (1936) it was illustrated with the unhelpful caption, written by Galbraith, ‘A forged charter’.
In 1958, when I was a lecturer in Birmingham, the survey of MSS was almost complete. Neil Ker persuaded me to rearrange and renumber the charters. I thought that I should tell Stenton (whom I had never met) about the enterprise, and ask for his guidance on the arrangement, and much else. So I wrote to him, asking for an audience, but had no reply. Dick Southern thought this was more than unfortunate and, hinting that he would prepare the way, told me to write again. This time I was invited to lunch. It was delicious lamb that he carved. Unfortunately the visit coincided with the publication of my paper on the density of the Danish settlements. The offprints were not ready so I felt bound to tell him what was in store. He was prepared to argue the point, but the temperature dropped as Lady S. froze and, after lunch, bad me a very cool farewell. Sir Frank continued the discussion for a while until he said that it was clear we were not going to agree and should turn to the charters. I had chosen a sample of cards, including some that posed problems, and very soon he was enthusiastic and covered the floor of his large study with facsimiles and editions from his superb library, his own notebooks and my coloured cards. When Lady S. returned from a shopping trip she was surprised to find me still there with a happy husband. We had Gentleman’s Relish for tea. I was invited to stay for dinner and caught the last train back to Oxford. He gave me an offprint of his BA paper on the Danes, and was thereafter very friendly, even writing a letter (in his own hand) to thank me for The Age of the Vikings, with congratulations on my treatment of the ASC and coins!
Stenton said that he was too old to be much help himself, and advised me to seek further advice from Dorothy Whitelock. That posed a problem. I had met her several times when she had made it clear that she did not like me. One probable reason was that I was a disciple of Vivian Galbraith. A week or so after my visit to Reading I had a good chance to meet her at the annual Anglo-American conference where Pierre Chaplais gave a lecture (on Exeter charters). She sat in the front row with Florence Harmer. As soon as the lecture was over I raced to greet them. Dorothy tried to escape but was blocked by Florence long enough for me to explain that Sir Frank had urged me to consult her. Her reply – ‘If you have Sir Frank’s help, you do not need mine’ – caused Florence to laugh, and to declare: ‘Come, come Dorothy, all men are mortal.’ After a little more discussion she agreed to look at some draft entries based on the cards, and soon asked for more. She generously agreed to check all the draft entries prepared from the cards, making corrections and adding many comments that, after revision, she allowed me to quote. Before long she had checked all of them, adding pencilled corrections and comments; some of them, especially about Finberg’s assertions on authenticity, were very vigorous, e.g. ‘God’, or ‘God help us’. I sent her an edited list of these comments and was surprised that she toned many of them down before allowing me to include them as ‘personal communications’. She invited me to Cambridge to discuss details at length. No one will believe it, but she did sit on the floor at my feet by the fire (in Newnham, I think). I followed her advice about the arrangement.
I remember very little of dealings with Dean Ware. Christopher had met him in Cambridge, and, learning that he hoped to produce a list of charters with comments, asked me to meet him. We discussed our plans and agreed to cooperate. I don’t remember what we planned. This seems to have happened after Eric John and James Ure had given up, and I suppose I hoped for help with comments. He can hardly have contributed much to the MS survey. He never sent me anything and we soon lost touch.
Before completing the list for publication by the Royal Historical Society, I checked most of the manuscript references, mainly to ensure that the folios were correct. This revision resulted in two noteworthy episodes. First, when I opened BM Stowe 944 (the Liber Vitae of New Minster, Winchester), the leaf depicting Cnut presenting a gold cross to New Minster fell out. That opening had been exhibited for a very long time and when the book was closed the parchment cracked. It has since been skillfully repaired. Secondly, in 1964 I found that S 1086, a writ written on a half-sheet stitched to a page of Lambeth Palace MS 1212, was missing. The Librarian was unconcerned, doubted my assertion that it had been there a few years earlier, and questioned whether Florence Harmer, who published it, was a reliable scholar! Her comment to me was: ‘I hope the unconcerned attitude which you report is not characteristic of present-day cathedral librarians.’ I reported the incident to Christopher Cheney, with whom I was then staying, and his intervention produced results. The sheet was found – it too had fallen out and had been reclassified under Chartae Antiquae. The Librarian apologized. The last comments were added in 1966, and when the book was published in 1968 I gave an interleaved copy to Dorothy Whitelock [now in the Department of ASNC, Cambridge].
Now for a little on the early days of the charter committee, mainly based on memory. The committee was from the outset a joint affair between the British Academy and the Royal Historical Society. The chairman was Goronwy Edwards, and the members were Dorothy, Florence, Darlington, Chaplais, Finberg, me, and another whose name I forget [J. G. Edwards]. We soon divided evenly into two groups. Dorothy led those who argued that the time was not ripe, mainly because there was a shortage of possible competent editors. I pointed out that without the prospect of publication few people would want to acquire the skills needed. The deadlock led to the addition of Francis Wormald, who supported Dorothy, and Neil Ker, who didn’t. The decisive development was Pierre’s announcement that Alistair Canpbell was willing to edit the Rochester charters. Dorothy was checkmated; she could hardly argue that he was not competent. I am sure that the decision by the BA to continue was largely due to Christopher. The committee was reconstituted with him as chairman and me as secretary. That stage is briefly noted in CRC’s Foreword to the Rochester Charters.
Christopher was determined that our plans should be realistic and not overambitious and therefore slow. Before the first meeting he talked to all the members separately, persuading them to support his line. He used to hold the catalogue of the Royal MSS in the BM as an example of the best as the enemy of what would be most useful, and ready sooner. He also assured them that the planning would take a long time. As a result the plans he and I prepared were more or less agreed at the first meeting! It was unfortunate that Campbell disregarded the agreed editorial guidelines. I tried to follow them in the Burton Charters.
One other issue should be mentioned. Finberg was very eager to be appointed General Editor of the series. He invited me to Leicester to press his case. I told him that the Academy would certainly not pay for such a supremo. I did not tell him what Dorothy had said about many of his comments on authenticity. He was furious that he was not a member of the new committee.
Peter Sawyer
Uppsala
August 2010