Hans Faber

Jan 19, 2018

Porcupines bore U.S. bucks

On May 5th, 2018, it was exactly two centuries ago that Karl Marx was born. When in 1867 the good man published the first part of Das Kapital, Marx was actually 1,300 years too late to turn the tide. The ship had sailed. Ships of selfish and merciless Frisian merchants in pursuit of personal wealth, to be precise. If only Karl had known, the world would have been, let's say, a different place today.

One might say that Frisians originally have much in common with sea nomads. Living on one of those little pieces of our planet that was neither land nor sea. In a way, Frisians were عرب الأهوار 'Marsh Arabs' of the Germanic tribes. Indeed, salt-marsh people. Having the blue yonder as their boundless world. Accepting no higher authority than the gods they worshiped, since centralist power structures could not get hold on these watery twilight-lands for very long.

During the turbulent Migration period and its aftermath, this sea people with their nautical skills, being possibly even the first to re-introduce sails again since the pull-out of the Romans from the region in the fifth century, and with a lifestyle forced to be pragmatic, had recognized the economic opportunities the dangerous waterwolf offers. Seas were, in fact, the early-medieval interstate highways. With their ships and sails, their overseas network and these excellent ‘highways’, the enterprising Frisian merchant in pursuit of profit was crucial for the rebirth of commercial activity in north-western Europe. Moreover, they lay the foundation for free-trade and economic liberalism as we know it today. A concept of thinking and of working together globally, conquering the world of Homo sapiens ever since. Or, should we say, a concept that has conquered the world? The prison of path evolution. No escaping it now, anymore.

Ruler Audulf

It's no coincidence the name of ruler Audulfus or Audulfo of Frisia has been preserved on Frisian coin money when the birth of liberalism was about to take place. They are solidi minted around the year 600 (see image below). Money with a portrait comparable to a U.S. dollar note with the portrait of president George Washington on it. The era ruler or King Audulf lived, marks the start of the heyday of the Frisian trade.

The first coins revealing the name of Audulf were found in April 1897, at the village of Escharen near the River Meuse and the town of Nijmegen in the east of the Netherlands. These coins were part of a hoard consisting of twelve golden solidi and fifty-four tremesses dating between 491 BC and AD 630. Therefore, the hoard must have been buried at 630 latest, and places the reign of Audulf at the end of the sixth or the beginning of the seventh centuries. Even between the years 534 and 628, according to some scholars. Later on, more coins have been found, and even a die designed for the minting of coins with the name Audulf was found in the province of Friesland. All unearthed in the Netherlands. In total between five coins, according to Faber, and seven coins, according to Dijkstra, have been found bearing the Latin texts:

AVDVLFVS FRISIA or VICTORIA AVDVLFO.

The way the legacy of King Audulf - mind you, a contemporary of Anglo-Saxon King Æthelbert of Kent, and under whose rule production of gold tremisses started - is being handled, can be described at best as extremely sloppy. We're still flabbergasted, to be honest. No consistent overview and inventories of these coins exists. One coin has been lost, alas. Some coins are being kept in London. Other coins were archived at the Nederlands Muntmuseum (Netherlands' coin museum) at first, but after the Muntmuseum closed down in 2013 the complete coin collection was divided, or scattered, between De Nederlandse Bank (National Bank of the Netherlands) and Rijksmuseum voor Oudheden (national museum for antiquities). Though we try not to see similarities with the monetary system of the European Central Bank, we cannot escape the conclusion of historian Dijkstra nine years ago: “A total overview and a thorough analysis of these [Audulf] coins, as well as their place within the coinage system, is urgently needed.” Indeed, it is. Again, Dijkstra wrote this nine (9) years ago.

Besides Adolf, there are four more early-medieval men known from early-medieval golden coins. Only with one coin each. According to Düwel & Nedoma (2023), it is more probable that the names on the following coins are those of masters of coin and not of rulers.

big man Skanomodu

Skanomodu, Frisia — ᛋᛣᚨᚾᛟᛗᛟᛞᚢ / Skanomodu (right), sixth century AD

The first of the three other Frisian (possibly) big names handed down via a gold solidus is that of Skānomōdu (see image above). Unfortunately, the found conditions have been lost. Although without provenance, it was part of the collection of King George III, and donated to the British Museum in 1825. It's dated the first quarter of the sixth century, but can be as old as 423, which is the numismatical date ante quem non. It was also used as a pendant, which was a quite common practice. The name is written in so-called Anglo-Frisian type runes, and means something like skauna 'beautiful' (comparable with modern Mid-Frisian skjin/skiente) and mōda 'brave' (comparable with modern Mid-Frisian moed). It must have been an important figure too. But no further archaeological or historical information exists about Skanomodu, to date. With this, ᛋᛣᚨᚾᛟᛗᛟᛞᚢ 'skanomodu' can be considered the oldest written Frisian word known, and therefore the oldest written word of the Netherlands too. Good it is proudly kept in the British Museum. Much safer there, if we see how the Dutch handle the solidi of Audulf.

There is also a theory Skanomodu was not a personal name of a man, but that of a woman (Nielsen 1993). Not a big man, but a whole lotta woman. Names of women on pre- or early-medieval coins is extremely rare, so not your most obvious explanation.

big man Hadda

hada solidus Harlingen — ᚻᚨᛞᚨ / Had(d)a, sixth century AD

The second Frisian big man's name is that of Had(d)a (see image above). This name has been preserved in runes as ᚻᚨᛞᚨ on a gold solidus as well. It was found in the area of the port town of Harlingen in the province of Friesland, and generally dated the third quarter of the sixth century. Again, just like Skanomodu, we have no clue as to who Had(d)a was. All we can say is that the name probably derives from Old Germanic haþu 'battle'. There is no additional historical or archaeological material available about this person, again, to date.

One historian who suggests Hada was the same as Bishop Ceadda from Northumbria. Ceadda was the teacher of Saint Wilfrid who once stayed at the court of King Aldgissil of western Frisia. It's then that Wilfrid gave this coin of Ceadda or Hedda as a gift to King Aldgissil (Kramer 2016). You have to be well-rested to follow the reasoning of this theory. We still have not had enough sleep for it yet. For more about King Aldgissil, read our blog post The biography of King Aldgissil, unplugged.

There is another early-medieval figure named Hadda known in history. He was an abbot in the town of Utrecht. At least, according to a note of Alcuin of York dated around 780. Much later than the coin.

Concerning the images above of the coin of Had(d)a, unfortunately, we have not found better images on the web. Let us know if you have one.

big man Weladu

weladu - wayland the smith — ᚹᛖᛚᚩᛞᚢ / Weladu, late sixth century AD

The third one is Wela(n)du (see image above). This golden coin was found on a field near the village of Schweindorf in northern Germany in 1948. It's dated between 575 and 625, or even 575 and 600. The name of this Frisian big man was Weladu, and the name is written backwards in runes too: ᚹᛖᛚᚩᛞᚢ 'weladu'. It's being kept in the Ostfriesischen Landesmuseum Emden. Intriguing about this name is, that it's the name of Weland or Wayland the Smith. The mythical blacksmith in Germanic mythology, mentioned in several very old written sources, including the epic poem Beowulf and the Deor poem. Then, of course, we cannot avoid to speculate that the famous blacksmith Wayland was a Frisian. For our argumentation Wayland was a Frisian indeed, read our blog post Weladu the flying blacksmith. No bias, promised!

big man Aniulufu

ᚫᚾIᚦᚢᛚᚢᚠᚢ / Ani(w)ulufu, mid seventh century AD

In the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow keeps another, fourth, tremisse of Frisian origin, dated ca. 650. It carries the personal name Aniwulufu on it, written backwards in runes: ᚫᚾᛁᚹᚢᛚᚢᚠᚢ. Besides the coin in Glasgow, another golden coin with the name Aniwulufu existed, but it has been lost in the British Museum (Looijenga 2003, Beers 2012, Kaiser 2021). The second part of the name ᚹᚢᛚᚢᚠᚢ wulufu means undoubtedly 'wolf'. Related to the Old English words wylif, wulafa or wolafa, and to Old Germanic wulfa. What the first element ᚫᚾI ani means, is less obvious. Probably ani derives from the Indo European word an meaning ancestor. Compare Old High German, Gothic and Old Saxon, a(h)na which means grandmother. That way aniwulufu possibly means something like 'ancestor of the wolf' or 'tribal elder of the wolf' (Stella Mengels 2023). See also our blog post Who's afraid of Veracious Woolf? for more details.

Besides the vanity of (early-medieval) rulers, the question arises what the cash flows and the long-distance trade of the Frisians looked like? Bellow we will try to give a basic overview, knowing that the world of early-medieval coin is voluminous, detailed and truly, truly complex. If you want to have an optical impression of the world of medieval coin, check out the publicly accessible numismatic information system (NUMIS-database) of De Nederlandse Bank. But be careful. Do not get hooked on this type of money too!

The silver age of golden coin

After the Romans arrived in the north-west of Europe they introduced the money economy. Coinage was regulated, meaning coins had a certain appearance, and were mainly made of solid gold.

In the Netherlands in total 1.100 golden solidi and tremisses have been found,

of which 100 pieces on peninsula Walcheren in the province of Zeeland.

In the third and fourth centuries, the Roman Empire started to crumble. According to Gildas' On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain, written in the sixth century, the retreat of the Romans from Britain went with much bloodshed. Gildas speaking very vividly: "Fragments of corpses, covered with a purple crust of congealed blood, looked as though they had been mixed up in some dreadful wine-press." It was in the year 410 that the Romans left Britain for good, and it was up to the Britons to defend themselves.

Although Roman silver and low-value bronze coins continued to circulate in Britain in the fifth and sixth centuries, their volume and role in commerce changed. On the other side of the North Sea, the Limes Germanicus along the lower parts of the River Rhine were abandoned already in the third century. Around the year 300, most of the castella 'fortresses' in the Netherlands had been given up by the Romans. Around 400, all presence of the Romans had disappeared from the Netherlands. With the total fall of the Western Roman Empire at the end of the fifth century, trade and cities shrunk, and the money economy, especially north of the River Seine, collapsed. Barter being again the primary means of local trade from then on. One relativisation, though. Agricultural economy and goods were and stayed mostly un-monetized, before, during and after the Roman presence.

Nevertheless, not long after the fall of the Roman Empire, Germanic tribes did start to produce coin themselves. These were loose copies of Roman solidi, thus depicting fictional emperor’s heads and 'real' deities. This way local rulers ordering the mint presented themselves as rightful heir of Roman Rule. To this tradition might belong the coins of Audulf, Had(d)a, Weladu, Skanomodu, and Aniulufu. At first, there was no regulation of coinage. But at the end of the sixth century, the Franks set first steps towards regulation. Additional to an emperor’s portrait, the name of the mint location and of the mint master were added on the coin too. Measures adding trust to the currency. From this period, names of circa 1,500 mint masters have been preserved.

The Frisians and the Anglo-Saxons started minting coin at the same time as the Franks did, namely at the end of the sixth century. The Frisian approach was somewhat different and more pragmatic than that of the Franks, you could say. The solidi were not workable in the north, as they represented too much value. Therefore, tremisses were being produced weighing a third of a solidus and contained less gold. Tremisses weighed 1,3 gram. Its appearance was more stylized with unrecognizable portraits and unreadable, pseudo-lettering characters. Do not judge a book by its cover. What's inside, that counts.

dronryp tremissis — tremissis Dronrijp-type

Interestingly, early-seventh-century monetarius ‘mint master’ Madelinus moved from a town with religious prestige, where the fourth-century Bishop Saint Servatius was buried, namely the town of Maastricht in the south of present-day the Netherlands, to the commercial hub of Dorestat, also written as Dorestad, Dorestate or Dorestado. Indicating the growing importance of this buzzing trading town in the lower River Rhine area at the former spot of the former Roman castellum Levafanum. On its way to become the biggest emporium of Europe even. Read our blog post The Batwing Doors of Northwest Europe for more about the history of Dorestat.

Master Madelinus' transfer was remarkable, whilst during the decennia before the mint of Maastricht had set the example for coinage in the wider region. And his coin, confusingly, is being called the Dronrijp type by archaeologists and historians. Dronrijp being a village in the province of Friesland. In his new town, from mid-seventh century, master Madelinus struck coins with the text DORESTATI FIT, meaning something like ‘made in Dorestat'. Similar to today's ‘made in China’. And, his coin was what we would call today a strong brand. During his life, master Madelinus’ coins were being copied abundantly, but actually were not made in Dorestat.

Another early-seventh-century mint master who probably moved his headquarters to Dorestat, was Rimoaldus. Before moving his seat to Dorestat he issued coins at the towns of Huy and Maastricht. The number of coins struck by master Rimoaldus at Dorestat are quite rare, however.

A last remark concerning the age of the golden coin is that, although suitable for payment, these coins moreover functioned as symbol of power, status, and ceremony. And, as always, for paying taxes. Thus, this type of cash was not circulating fast, and was hoarded a lot. Not suitable for the shaking money-making free trade that was about to emerge.

The golden age of silver coin

The true golden age of coin started when they were being made of silver.

In the Netherlands in total 3.000 denarii and sceattas have been found,

of which an amazing 1.000 from peninsula Walcheren in the province of Zeeland.

Around 650, an important development took place: the Franks and Frisians started to mint silver coins. As often, real great innovations in history are small steps. Two decennia later, the neighbouring Anglo-Saxons on the other side of the English Channel, followed the example of the Continent. From then on, no golden coins were struck anymore in the whole wide region. A new utilitarian currency was needed to facilitate the growing long-distance trade. This trade needed a cheap coin that circulated quick, had no ceremonial use as such, and stayed within circulation. Cheaper, because one golden tremissis was still worth the support of a child for a whole year. That represented a lot value. Ask any divorced parent paying alimony. Anyway, too much value a piece for the trade.

The solution was the denarius or penny, and widely known as sceatta. Sceatta is derived from the Old Germanic word ‘skaet’, and comparable with the modern Mid-Frisian word ‘skat’. The original meaning of 'skat' is 'cattle', comparable to the Latin word 'pecunia', also meaning '(small) cattle'. 'Pecu' is related to the Old Saxon 'fehu', which in modern Dutch language is still 'vee'. But also the English 'fee' for a honorarium, has the same origin (Miedema 1972). Sceats, or sceattas, were minted in England, Frisia, Francia and in Jutland. And this new currency had another advantage, namely the access to silver. Silver was more easy to get their hands on for the Franks with silver mines in southern Europe, whereas gold had to be imported from outside the Continent. The discovery of silver in central Europe might also have stimulated the production of silver sceattas (Blackburn 2003).

Frisian merchants, however, probably purchased silver for their private mints, or even mainly, from their trading partners in southern Scandinavia as well. This was possible due to a positive trading balans of the Scandinavians. Southern Scandinavia got its silver via the eastern trading routes. From the silver mines in Afghanistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan. Purchase of silver by the southern Scandinavians was financed with the trade of among other fur and ivory. For those readers wondering about all the truly global connections, yes, we are still talking Early Middle Ages.

Of the silver coins produced by the Anglo-Saxons, the Franks and the Frisians, the thick Frisian sceattas were the real hit, especially in the eighth century. Frisian sceattas were produced from the end of the sixth century well into the last quarter of the eighth century. It was the U.S. dollar of the Early Middle Ages. Certainly in the wider North Sea region. And, the Frisians sceattas, i.e. sceatta series E and D, flooded into England (Blackburn 2003). The rough picture of sceattas in England was: ten percent minted in York, ten percent minted in Southampton (Hamwic), thirty percent minted in East Anglia, and fifty percent minted in Kent and London (Lundunwic). On top of this, more than twenty percent of the total English money consisted of Frisian sceattas (Metcalf 2003). The south coast of England and Humberside reached even thirty percent Frisian sceattas.

Sceatta D and E series were heavily represented in the hoards found at Aldborough (Norfolk) of London and, notably, of Fincham. The Fincham hoard consisted solely of crisp porcupines, i.e. sceatta E series. Like paying with dollars in, for example, West-African countries today. Only the very crisp ones are being accepted. And, to quote Michael Metcalf: "The Frisian sceattas were pervasive. There was no part of England which the Frisian money failed to reach." This, by the way, in stark contrast to Merovingian coin. Not even one percent of foreign coinage in England originated from the powerful Franks.

Again, the stylized and rougher appearance of these coins was different from their Continental southern and overseas western neighbours. The traditional portrait of an emperor and deity had become a Picasso-like abstract, and resembled more a porcupine or Stachelschwein. Hence the name porcupine, i.e. sceatta E series E, is today’s prevailing archaeological classification. That's, by the way, not without tradition as the word ‘buck’ refers to a deerskin used in the past by American trappers as a unit for barter.

Porcupines came in many different variations, since many different moneyers spread over Frisia struck these coins. Frisia back then, the coastal territories stretching from the coast of Flanders near estuary the Zwin, called Sincfala back then, to the River Weser in Germany. Even at the town of Ribe in Denmark, Frisian sceattas were being minted in the Early Middle Ages. See our blog post To the end where it all began: ribbon Ribe in Jutland for more.

porcupine sceatta Frisia — sceatta porcupine type

Besides porcupines, other Frisian and non-Frisian sceatta types circulated as well, of which the Frisian 'Woden/monster-type' was a remarkable one. It looks like the god Woden with a spine haircut. Although these are called Woden/monster-type, the image might not depict the god Wodan at all, and be the portrait of Christ instead. If so, Christ must have had the same funky hairdresser as Woden. Think it's strange to connect money with religion? No, it's not. Putting the name of your god on money is popular to date. 'In God we trust', is for everyone a well-known phrase. We all know about what money we are talking about, is it not? In medieval England, there are indications that coinage was commissioned and supervised by ministers. Some Anglo-Saxon pennies carried the inscription MONITA SCORUM 'money of the saints'.

Regarding the reference to the divine on money, perhaps things made to function as alienable items, like metal coins, also need to refer to an overarching, permanent 'totality'. Money, a commodity par excellence even in our secular times, tends to be decorated with symbols of national identity and/or religion. Only think of the discussions when designing the euro money. There are indications this social mechanism, i.e. things that function as alienable commodities, need to have a cultural reference, was already in place in the Bronze Age, 3200-600 BC (Fontijn 2020).

sceatta Frisia — sceatta Wodan/ monster type

In heathen Frisia no religious authorities, monasteries or ministers were involved when it came to trade and making money. Sceattas were minted by these simple pagans all over Frisia with Dorestat in the central river area, the terp region in the north, and the islands of Schouwen and Walcheren in the southwest, being the main minting sites. 'Productive sites' still for archaeologists and metal detectorists. If interested in the importance of the island of Walcheren in the Early Middle Ages, read our blog post Walcheren Island: once Sodom and Gomorrah of the North Sea.

Despite lack of central power, coinage flourished in the Frisia territories. The fact that the Franks, who ruled over big parts of Frisia from the mid-eighth century, were not able to install a proper feudal structure, the normal payment in kind was not possible. Therefore, these tax payments were often done in coin, which in turn stimulated the money economy within Frisia even further.

Frisian middlemen used silver sceattas to purchase goods for the long-distance trade. For example, with sceattas buying goods in East Anglia, transporting the stuff via emporium Dorestat to the upper River Rhine region to sell it on the markets of, for example, Cologne and Worms. This way thousands of coins found their way (far) outside Frisia for the import of goods. In England, 3,000 Frisian sceattas already have been found, outnumbering local Anglo-Saxon production. Frisian coins entered England via all major points of entry along the North Sea coast, and along the south coast. Vice versa it's not the case. Anglo-Saxon coins consist only a minor part of coins that circulated within Frisia and the wider region.

early-medieval trader leaving the tidal marshlands of Frisia by Ulco Glimmerveen

Frisian money found its way via these export payments outside the North Sea region too. For example, in the Baltic Sea area at the former eighth-century trading town of Reric at modern Groß Strömkendorf in the Bay of Wismar, thirty Frisian sceattas have been found. Being second after sixty Arabic dirhams. Dirhams reached Scandinavia via the eastern trading routes, as explained above.

Calculations have been made about the number of sceattas that might have been produced, and these numbers are so gigantic they are almost too difficult to accept. During the period 710-750, around 4,000 dies were being used, and a staggering fifty million sceattas might have been produced between 695 and 800, of which the majority was of Frisian origin. Yes, it is almost too difficult to accept. Although not all dies were in existence at the same time, the volume of the coinage was "remarkably high" as researchers have put it with a feel of understatement.

Birth of economic liberalism

At the beginning of the Early Middle Ages, and centuries before, trade mainly supported the gift economy. Alliances, partnerships, loyalties were forged through the exchange of precious gifts. A constant supply of valuables and bullion was therefore needed. When the first inter-regional markets emerged in the seventh century, trade consisted of luxury goods distributed. With the rise of the Frankish kingdom and the introduction of the feudal system, the gift economy lost much of its importance. Albeit gift exchange continued to be important, loyalty was primarily secured through granting fiefs and privileges to henchmen. New land-reforms and improved farming techniques, also led to agricultural surpluses in the eighth century. These surpluses were traded as well, but in ever more quantities, which in turn stimulated the long-distance bulk trade (Van der Tuuk 2021). Thus a growing demand for merchants and transporters. It was Frisians who, convincingly, filled this gap and became the freighters of bulk cargo in north-western Europe from the Early Middle Ages onward.

The word 'Frisian' became even synonymous to 'free trade'. The Frisian Trade. It was Frisian money that made the world go round, and the North Sea was the podium where the self-interested Frisian merchants spun their commercial web. A trade that started at the end of the sixth century, and was on its height during the eighth and beginning of the ninth centuries. Indeed, after Frisia was incorporated within the kingdom of Francia in the first half of the eighth century, the trade network survived and even flourished well into the tenth century, albeit for a short while not financed with Frisian sceattas but with the Frankish'. Probably, after the Battle of the Boarn in 734, when the Frisian dux Poppo was defeated by maior domus Charles Martel, Frisian coinage of sceatta E series ceased to exist (Breternitz 2018). By the way, the year 734 of the battle might also have been 736; check our blog post The Boarn Supremacy.

The fact that the Franks gained control over Dorestat and its revenues through taxation of bulk goods (Loveluck 2006), meant also that Frisian merchants could gain better access to the Frankish hinterland. Accounts of Frisian skippers sailing up and down the River Rhine have been handed down. Read for example in our blog post Little prayers at the Lorelei rock how Frisian merchants nearly perished in the maelstroms of the River Rhine near the town of Sankt Goar in Germany. Private mint production in Frisia picked up probably quick after the monetary reforms of the Franks, since the Frankish kingdoms lost their grip on the inaccessible northern and eastern Frisia territories pretty soon after they had been submitted.

Not without reason Mare Germanicum, or Mare nostrum 'our sea', as the North Sea was called by the Romans, was renamed Mare Fresicum 'Frisian sea' from the end of the Migration period. Other spellings were Mare Frenesic and Mare Fresic (Giles 2006). It kept this name throughout the Early Middle Ages.

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 Britonum of Nennius, 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 Scot (Historia Britonum of Nennius, ninth century AD)

In 1076, Adam of Bremen wrote the Gesta hammaburgensis ecclesiae pontificum 'History of the archbishops of Hamburg-Bremen'. In his Gesta, magister Adam still spoke of the River Eider that flows into the Frisian Ocean. Even the current name ‘North Sea’ could be a Frisian geographical perspective, as it's east of England, west of Denmark and, indeed, north of Frisia. But, with hindsight the North Sea, in fact, should have been named Interstate Highway 1. Maybe it's not too late to rename it. Today, a rough 300,000 ships per year ply their cargo through Dutch and German territorial waters.

If you had the ships and you knew how to sail, long distances could be covered relatively quickly. Much quicker than over land and river anyway. Frisian ships were clinker-built early cogs (Early Middle Ages) which were replaced by the smarter carracks, also called hulks (High Middle Ages), with the carvel technique. It has been calculated that travelling from the town of Rijnsburg at the mouth of the River (Old) Rhine to the town of Norwich, took two days. That's around 220 kilometres as the crow flies. While travelling inland via the river from Rijnsburg to Dorestat, only around 70 kilometres as the crow flies, took seven days. Over land it took four days.

Frisian merchant, Frisia — early-medieval Frisian merchant, impression by Arne Zuidhoek

With their dynamic large-scale and supra-regional trade, the tall Frisians merchants welded the North Sea, the upper River Rhine region, the English-Channel area, and parts of the Baltic Sea into one economic zone. Maybe not yet a fully operational European Economic Area, but it was getting there. On both sides of the Channel, a new economic world was created: the trade settlements or wics (also written as wijk, vicus, wich, wiccium, vico, vic, wico, etc.) tripled in size during the first half of the eighth century. Also coin finds support this economic development during the late seventh and eighth centuries. For the most part, all due doing of Frisian merchant activity in the seventh until the beginning of the ninth centuries. After which, by the way, their northern cousins, the Vikings, took over the hegemony at the North Sea, albeit clearly with a more imperialistic business model.

Yet again, Frisian trade-networks survived despite this new, Norse hegemony. Just as it had done after the Franks had conquered them in the early eighth century. An indication of the strong position of their network, excellent nautical skills, and maybe their pragmatic life style. But, maybe also an indication that Frisians culturally were still not that far removed from their northern and heathen cousins. Soon, Frisians would even join on Viking raids with significant numbers. Read more about this adventurism in, among other, our blog post Foreign fighters returning from Viking war bands. Frisia continued to be a prosperous seafaring nation throughout most of the High and Late Middle Ages, although less phenomenal as during the Early Middle Ages.

The geographical position of Frigonum patria 'motherland Frisia' was central. The technical, nautical skills and the commercial fleet of this sea people were other crucial assets. It's known too that Frisian traders sailed in specific vessels, and operated in convoys. Furthermore, being part of the wider North Sea culture, this people possessed the right linguistic and cultural background needed for this international or overseas trade. Having the Anglo-Saxons and the Danish peoples as their so-called cousins. At the same time, the Frankish landlubbers were their direct neighbours, and, therefore, intensive contacts existed with them too. In addition, with permanent Frisian presence at important overseas commercial hubs, this people must have been well connected and well informed about business opportunities, and about relevant social and political developments in the wider region, for doing business effectively.

We didn't mention that other cousin of the Frisians, the Saxons. Neighbouring Saxony, namely, stayed quite isolated and economically backward. Despite being surrounded by the Frisian trade networks, the Saxons did not connect. Finds of coins are rather sparse, and it took until the second half of the tenth century before Saxons started minting coins significantly. Maybe, but this is speculation, the Franks had killed and deported so many Saxons during the extremely bloody Saxons Wars at the end of the eight century, that it took the Saxons ages to recover from it.

Frisian trade Early Middle Ages — main routes early-medieval Frisian trade - by Lebecq 1983

The (early) medieval trade connections were truly dazzling and emporium Dorestat being the biggest trading port of north-west Europe at that time. Dorestat located at the junction where the mighty River Rhine had split itself around the year 300 into the River (Old) Rhine, or the River Kromme Rijn 'bended Rhine', flowing north via Trajectum (present-day Utrecht) to the current town Katwijk, and the River Lek flowing west to the current the city of Rotterdam. Rotterdam, arguably the successor of Dorestat. From Utrecht onward, the Dorestat was connected via the River Stichtse Vecht to Lake Almere (today lake IJsselmeer) and the (former) River Vlie, flowing north into the Wadden Sea. From there on, eyes on southern Scandinavia. A vicus nominatissimus 'a town of very great repute' as Dorestat was named in 834 by Saint Ludger, the Apostle of the Frisians. A settlement that extended over three kilometres along the riverbanks with jetties that had a length up to 200 metres.

Dorestat started as a Frisian dominated trading place, but after the Franks took control at the beginning of the eighth century, it was a Frisian-Frankish affair. The manuscript Cosmographia Ravennatis written in the second half of the seventh century, however, classifies Dorestat still as a Frisian settlement. Read our blog post The Batwing Doors of Northwest Europe to get a fuller picture of Dorestat.

The Frisians, with their important trading centers and entrepots Dorestat, the island of Walcheren, and the island of Schouwen, traded with the British Isles, especially with the kingdoms of East Anglia, Isle of Wight and of Kent. Probably already from the sixth century onward, trade relations existed between the Anglo-Saxon world and Frisia (Brooks & Harrington 2010). Places like Flixborough, Fordwich, emporium Ipswich, all giving access to East Anglia, emporium London (Lundenwic), giving access to Mercia, Sandwich and emporium Southampton (Hamwic), giving access to Wessex, were part of the Frisian trade network. Early-medieval Frisian merchants have been documented in texts in e.g. London and York (Eoforwic), giving access to Northumbria.

Regarding the Continent, Frisian presence and trade extended to Saint-Denis near Paris, Rouen and, of course, the emporium Quentovic near modern-day Boulogne. Frisian sceattas have been found all the way at the city of Marseille in southern France. Frisians were also trading intensively in in the towns of Xanten, Hamburg, Cologne, Worms, Mainz, and Trier.

early-medieval Birka, Sweden by Mats Vänehem

With Scandinavian tribes more to the north, the Frisian free-trade network encompassed the wics 'markets' of Ribe, the island of Bornholm, and Haedum (later Hedeby/Haithabu) in respectively Denmark and Germany. It's on ninth-century coins struck in Hedeby that cog-shaped ships are depicted for the first time, probably Frisian ships (Meier 2004). According to today's knowledge the town of Ribe, being the oldest town of Scandinavia, was even founded by Frisian merchants. Read our blog post To the end where it all began: Ribbon Ribe in Jutland for this piece of maritime trade history. But also in southern Norway and southern and eastern Sweden, with respectively the trading towns Sciringssal (now Kaupang), Birka and later Sigtuna, Frisian traders were well connected. One of the houses in Kaupang has been identified as Frisian (Skre 2011). As said earlier, of course, also into the Baltic sea with Frisian presence at the trading place Reric at present-day Groß Strömkendorf at the Bay of Wismar. 'International' presence at Reric of people of Franks, Saxons and Frisians has been established, based on grave rituals, coins and pottery.

It was not solely merchants who were passing by during the sailing season at the trading places mentioned above. More permanent settlers existed too. Frisian colonies had been established in many of these towns, like at Hedeby, York, Mainsz, Birka, and Worms, including the establishment of local Frisian guilds. Besides trading, Frisians also built their early cog ships, also known as kugg or kogg(e). Kugg is presumed Frisian, and at the early-medieval town Birka the toponym 'kugghamn' existed, meaning harbour of cogs, indicating Frisian presence (Westerdahl 1992).

Frisian fleet of cog ships by Arne Zuidhoek

As we have seen already, Frisians were keen financiers. Doing business requires a balance between pragmatism and giving trust to the buyer. If people trusted the trader, they trusted his own minted money and goods. Producing massive amounts of cheap silver coins was a pragmatic innovation, and if not invented by the Frisians, at least exploited to the max by them. Although no governmental supervision existed and the mint of coinage was in practice a free occupation, the Frisian money makers were able to maintain the weight of silver of sceattas at a constant 1,3 grams. Whilst the Anglo-Saxon pennies originally weighing 1,3 grams too, slowly devalued in the amount of silver, despite supervision of ministers or feudal authority. Do we here a renewed plead for deregulation? Frisian pragmatism was further illustrated in the way they dealt with southern Scandinavia. The Norsemen still refused the money economy and payments were solely done in silver or gold, well into the tenth century. We note that some Scandinavian countries still refuse to join the euro-zone.

Anyhow, when coins were cut or bend by their Scandinavian neighbours, needed to establish to silver content and to be sure it was no fake, Frisian merchants had no problem with it. Regardless the fact cutting of coins was officially forbidden by Frankish law, in force after most of Frisia had been incorporated into Francia in the eighth century. They simply struck the deal if the price was right. No scruples, no matter what distant Frankish kings thought. It was business, it was making a profit. With silver money they bought goods, oh, and slaves too. Read our blog post Merciless medieval merchants and slavers to learn of the first, Frisian slave trader documented in London in 637. Goods and slaves, probably not for personal use, but primarily for the sale somewhere else. Shipped to be sold for a higher price where the demand was higher. The effort put into, was the labour for transportation. The surplus probably was invested (partly) again to enlarge the trade. Thus accumulating wealth with individuals: the Frisian middlemen.

The trade consisted of, among other, hides and parchment, bone, wool and cloth (the famous locally produced pallium Fresonicum, read our post Haute couture from the salt marsh), milk products like cheese and butter, eggs, flax and linen, wood, jewellery, pottery (including Tating-type being the fine luxurious stuff), glassware (including funnel beakers), arms, spices, walnuts, raisins, olive oil, gold brocade, Chinese silk, exotic shells, beads, wine (in wooden barrels, from the upper River Rhine area), tephrite quern stones from Mayen, mortars and whetstones of sandstone or quartzite, furs and walrus ivory from Scandinavia, amber, grain, ore, dried and salted fish, combs, and slaves. Many goods clearly meant for luxury, and were part of the gift economy that had arisen after the Migration period; the era of ring-givers, and an inspiration for the trilogy Lord of the Rings too.

Frisian convoy unloading cargo by Arne Zuidhoek

Poor Marx. He would have become nauseous when he would read all this. To soften his pain, though, Frisians did produce and manufacture too. They, indeed, added value. Like Frisian broadcloth, combs (Rijkelijkhuizen 2024), linen, dairy and salt, which were highly sought after products. To soften Marx' pain even further, the offspring of these Frisian self-interested, merciless traders ended up living at a poor, aging, trembling and sagging countryside. Threatened by a rising sea level, due to global warming. Threatened by a sinking soil, due to salt and massive gas mining.

Lastly. For long there was no significant central power. Frisian trade was commissioned neither by secular powers nor by ministers, abbeys, cloisters, monasteries, or other important people dressed in heavy robes or capes. In alignment with the principles of economic liberalism, it was individuals and their relatives who were trading freely and purely for their personal benefit. No imperialism, to be clear. An open market that was almost completely regulated without any state interference: a mercantile community largely operating outside state controle. As illustrated above, even coinage was successfully organized on the local level, until the centralist Franks intervened. Albeit for a short while.

A thousand years later, during the Golden Age, the Dutch Republic took liberalism and the triangle trade to a next level, in many aspects. With the very same sea-coastal area still having the lead, only by then carrying the free-republic names province of Friesland, province of Holland and West-Friesland, and province of Zeeland. Therefore, if you think the United States of America are the true representatives of economic liberalism and republicanism, know who their ancestors are.

One of the ancestors, literally, was the American President Franklin D. Roosevelt. His Dutch ancestors migrated in the seventeenth century to New Amsterdam, a city we now know as New York. It was Roosevelt who understood the ancient, Frisian principles of trade, namely that primarily all individuals and families should profit from trade and production, and, above all, hold power over economics. Not a small group of bankers and investors. In the ’30s, with his hand on the family Dutch Bible published in the year 1668 during his inauguration as President, he retook with the New Deal control over the economy from bankers by leaving the Gold Standard. Governments, serving the people, had become too dependent on those guys on Wall Street; a Dutch street name by the way. In the meantime, countries yet again have become dependent on bankers, investors and hedge funds. Upcoming leaders like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez plead for a Green New Deal. So, from the Frisian Deal, to Roosevelt’s New Deal to AOC’s Green New Deal.

Indeed, do not underestimate the cultural ties between the Anglo-Saxons and the Frisians when it comes to individualism, economics and free-trade. The Declaration of Independence of the United States is not only filled with individual freedom and the pursuit of happiness. It also mentions explicitly (free) trade interests. On 26 February 1782 the Republic of Friesland was the second sovereign state in the world that voted in favour to recognize the United States’ independence. Coincidence you think? And, to this day one may find this coastal people still being an interlocutor or broker between the old Continent and the new Anglo-Saxon World, or as they say: “The Dutch are part of the transatlantic axis.” Mark our words, the Dutch will be front runner in Europe in repairing the damage of the Brexit. They will ignore it.

Read our blog post History is written by the victors – a story of credits to understand how the American values on civil liberties and free market were planted on its soil in the seventeenth century. Even how the Frisian-born Governor of the New Netherland colony, Pieter Stuyvesant, made sure in the Articles of Capitulation of 1664 that the bourgeois liberties and rights, including free trade, of the citizens were to be respected by the British when they took over the colony from the Dutch again.

Also, in the New World the Dutch showed being pragmatic again when it came to currencies, and embraced the local currency of the native American tribes, namely the sewant. These were small, relatively scarce cylindrical or barrel-shaped white beads made from seashell found along the Atlantic coast; the knobbed or channelled whelk (Venema 2003). Not only they represented value, they also functioned in storytelling, ceremonial gift exchange, and (condolence) rituals. It is estimated that about 3 million of these sewant beads may have come into circulation with the Iroquois and Mahicans to facilitate the beaver pelt trade. Its value as ‘light money’ was even regulated by the Dutch colonial authorities.

Leaving America and back to those early-medieval merchants on the rainy shores of the North Sea, the Frisian trade could not do without a stable market on the Continent where to buy and sell their luxury goods. Oh, and slaves. The Franks had pacified or integrated, pardon our euphemistic language, the hinterland into a more or less stable market. And this is the symbiose, or love-hate relationship if you like, between the Franks and the Frisians, and later between the Dutch and the Germans. Emporium Dorestat, the Big Apple of the Early Middle Ages, with an estimated population of 10,000 people with docks and quays extending a 1,000 meters along the banks of the River Rhine, was a town being neither Frisian nor Frankish. This hybrid nature of Dorestat was illustrative for the interdependence between the two peoples.

In this respect not much has changed. Later on, it was the sea-trading Low Countries with the ports of Amsterdam and Rotterdam, including Delfshaven but later also Emden, that flourished because of a big and stable hinterland. A hinterland that had gotten a new name: the Ruhr. And, again no coincidence. The Netherlands was among the founding fathers of integration of economic area’s like their coastal ancestors had done before with the wider North Sea region. We name the Benelux of 1944, and the European Coal and Steel Community in 1951, being the foundation of the European Union.

What about Marx?

When in 1867 Das Kapital was published, it was actually a representation of the secluded mountains and woods of the Continent. A landlubber who had no clue what was going on at dynamic seas for centuries. He could have guessed, though, since his birthplace Trier on the banks of the River Moselle had depended on Frisian free-trade in early-medieval times already. Just like nearby town Worms to the east on the banks of the River Rhine had done so too. The influential monastery of Echternach near Trier was even founded by Willibrord in the seventh century, whose title was Archbishop and Apostle of the Frisians. To put it bluntly: no person from the free southern coast of the North Sea in his right mind would have written something like Das Kapital.

In the year 1883, Marx died at the other end of the ancient Frisian trade route, namely Lundunwic. A city that had gotten a new name too: London.

Post scriptum Audulf of Frisia

We are, of course, aware of the mist still surrounding King or ruler Audulf. Some scholars argue the quality of the coins is too good to be true to be Frisian, and, therefore, should be made by the apparently more refined and elegant Franks. Scholars had for long the same hesitation with the origin of pallia Fresonica; read our blog post Haute couture from the salt marshes. On the other hand, we have seen that Frisians were no backward farmers trapped in the woods. In fact, a worldly people able to make cloth and jewellery of the highest international quality imaginable of which fibulae found in the northern terp region are magnificent examples. Jewellery matching without a doubt the quality of the finds at Sutton Hoo in England. Read our blog post Ornament of the Gods found in a mound of clay for the story of this jewel.

Making quality dies and minting small coins, therefore, should have been within their grasp. We would say, that is a no-brainer. And yes, the appearances of the coin was more robust. But, it was what was inside that counted, namely a through-time stable silver content. That makes you a reliable trader. And the weight of silver in the sceattas was more consistent than the money of their so-called sophisticated neighbours. That was the real finesse, the real trust.

Let us explain it one more time:

Scholars adhering to the Frankish origin-theory, subsequently have the additional challenge to explain the text AVDVLFVS VICTORIA, and to make somehow plausible it was a victory of a Frankish king over Frisians, instead. So, a victory over Audulf. Other scholars dismiss this argument as far-fetched, since this was not the practice of rulers in that era. You put as a ruler, of course, your own name on the coin and not somebody else’s. Imagine a portrait of Saddam Hussein or Poetin on a U.S. bank note. Not gonna happen, we comfortably predict. Neither is there any support in early-medieval Frankish texts for this victory over a ruler Audulf of Frisia at the beginning of the seventh century. Lastly, the same question marks are not being placed at the rule and existence of the Anglo-Saxon king Æthelstan who ruled from 825-845 and who is principally known from extensive issue of coins. Kinda cherry-picking, it seems.

All in all, the Frankish-origin clique seem to apply double standards and lack a winning argument. Illustrating the study of history is a politics and is predominantly written by victors. In our blog post Three books (and a comic) reviewed on Frisia: Is history evidence based? we illustrate that this way of constructing history is still going on. At the same time, the pendula should not swing to the other side. Local Frisian biased based theories arguing the battle referred to, in fact, was a victory of King Audulf over King Theudebert II of Austrasia, are far too concrete considering available evidence and must be dismissed as well.

Till now, we can only speculate as to where big man Audulf had his power base or where his great mead hall once stood. The fourteenth-century, pro-Holland chronicler Johannis De Beke argued that Audulf had his burh at Foreburg at present-day Voorburg in the province of Zuid Holland. This has been dismissed as fiction. But we can assume it must have been in the central river-lands of the Netherlands. The river basins of the River (Old) Rhine and the River Stichtse Vecht, and the estuaries of the mighty rivers Rhine and Meuse at the coast of the province of Zuid Holland, all might very well be possible locations for power bases of early-medieval rulers. It gave them control over important trade networks and at the same time they were connected to the elite network of the wider North Sea region that had developed from the sixth century. It's also speculated that Frisian kings or counts like Aldgissil and Radbod, might have had their power base here. Perhaps even that of the fifth-century King Finn Folcwald.

Note 1 - Although the exceptional achievement of the Frisians being the central freighters of the Early Middle Age was never equalled again, in the eighteenth century skippers from the coastal strip between the port towns of Lemmer and Harlingen along the south-west coast of the province of Friesland, dominated the trade with the Baltic Sea (again). The trade with the Baltic Sea area was called: the Oostzeevaart 'Baltic Sea-trade', the Grote Oost 'great east' (as opposed to the Kleine Oost 'little east' being the trade with the North Sea coast of Germany), the Sontvaart 'Sound trade', or the Moedernegotie 'mother trade'. During the period of the Oostzeevaart, Frisians are known as The Freighters of Europe.

The modern Dutch word vracht for ‘freight’ is, by the way, of Frisian origin, just like the word eiland ‘island’ meaning ‘water-land’. Between 1000 and 1200, these words found their way into western Dutch language, which can be understand in connection with the important role Frisians played in the trade in north-western Europe from the Early Middle Ages and beyond (De Vaan 2014).

Note 2 – If interested in other pre and early-medieval kings of Frisia, read our blog posts about the Frisian (over)kings Verritus and Malorix, Finn, Aldgissil and Radbod.

Note 3 - Wall Street is a Dutch street name by the way, named after the town wall built here. A wall commissioned by the Frisian governor of New Netherland, Pieter Stuyvesant. The wall itself was built by the Frisian businessman Frederick Philipse. More about the New Netherland colony in America and the Frisian share in it, read our blog post History is written by the victors – a story of the credits.

Suggested music

Adventures of Stevie V, Dirty Cash (Money Talks) (1989)

Madonna, Like a Virgin, Material Girl (1984)

Liza Minnelli, Money makes the world go round (1972)

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The 1,000 mile coastal hike for people with fear of heights
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