Friday, June 20, 2014

Margareta Ebner

Tomb of Margareta, at the Monastery
Church of Mary Medingen
To wrap up a week of religion and mysticism, we turn to Margareta Ebner, a German nun who was born to a wealthy family at Donauwörth in 1291 and entered the Dominican Monastery of Mary Medingen near Dillingen. In 1312 she became terribly ill, and her health was extremely poor for the next decade. For the rest of her life, she spent a great deal of time sporadically bedridden.

As was the case with Christina Ebner (no known relation), the illness led her to a more intense devoutness. She abstained from wine and fruit and even bathing in order to satisfy her desire for penance. She had to abandon the convent and return home when the Great Papal Schism caused war between different factions of Europe. The convent was loyal to the pope in Rome, and when Holy Roman Emperor Louis IV chose to support the pope in Avignon, Margareta left Dillingen and returned to her family. While there, the death of her nurse upset her greatly. She became unfocused, until Henry of Nördlingen in 1332 contacted her and started to guide her.

His correspondence with her has been preserved, the earliest known set of personal letters in the German language. Henry sent her a copy of the works of Mechthild of Magdeburg. He also urged her to start writing down visions and revelations that she experienced. These included dialogues with the Baby Jesus. Her Revelations are in a manuscript in Medingen, at the Monastery that also houses her tomb. She died on 20 June 1351.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Mechthild of Magdeburg

And God said to the soul:
I desired you before the world began.
I desire you now
As you desire me.
And where the desires of two come together
There love is perfected.

—Mechthild of Magdeburg*
Mechthild (Matilda) of Magdeburg has been mentioned a couple times this week as an exemplar of mysticism whose story was translated and shared by Henry of Nördlingen with other mystics.

She was born about 1210 in Saxony. At the age of 12, the Holy Spirit made her acquaintance and visited her daily. Her interactions with the Holy Spirit prompted her to leave home about 1230 and go to Magdeburg to join the Beguines, a group of lay Christians who lived in semi-monastic communities and vowed not to marry.

Her visions and revelations continued, and she was convinced by her confessor, Henry of Halle, to record them. She wrote a book which God wanted her to call Fliessende lieht miner gottheit in allu die herzen die da lebent and valscheit ["Light of my divinity, flowing into all hearts that live without guile"], but is now known as 
 Das fliessende Licht der Gottheit ["The Flowing Light of Godhead"], which became an inspiration for other mystics in the decades to follow. Her writing is interspersed with the occasional poem, such as the one above.

Some of her ideas were enlightening for the Middle Ages trying to understand the afterlife:
She divides hell into three parts; the lowest and most horrible is filled with condemned Christians, the middle with Jews, and the highest with Pagans. Hell, purgatory and heaven are situated one immediately above the other. The lowest portion of purgatory is filled with devils, who torment the souls in the most horrible manner, while the highest portion of purgatory is identical with the lowest portion of heaven. Many a soul in the lowest Purgatory does not know whether it will ever be saved. [Catholic Encyclopedia]
Some have suggested that her vision of the three helped to inspire Dante's Divine Comedy. In Canto XXVIII of Purgatorio, there is a Matilda gathering flowers. This figure is usually identified as Matilda (1046-1114), a Grancontessa of Tuscany, who supported several popes, but a "Matilda" who lived much closer to Dante and was known for her religious visions might be a better identification.

In 1270, she joined the Cistercian nuns at Helfta, and was respected by all. Some think she lived until the 1290s, but there are no definitive records of her after 1282.

*From Teachings of the Christian Mystics, edited Andrew Harvey

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Henry of Nordlingen

The walled town of Nördlingen in Bavaria
Henry of Nördlingen was an interesting character. We don't know when he was born, nor when he died, but we know that he was very active for many years in the "German mystic" circles.

The British Museum holds a manuscript which contains 58 letters written by Henry between 1332 and 1351; in fact, they are considered the earliest collection of personal letters written in German.

His life's goal—the only goal of which we know, based on the letters—was to guide and advise mystics, of which his mother was one. He wrote letters to, or visited, several mystics in order to encourage them. Among his correspondents were Christina Ebner, Margareta Ebner (no relation to Christina), Henry Suso, Johannes Tauler, and others.

He translated the memoirs of the 13th century mystic Mechthilde of Magdeburg, and used it as an example to other mystics to write their revelations. He also sent them books on theology, such as the works of Thomas Aquinas. His activities and letters shed a great deal of light on the thread of mysticism running through 14th century German religious society.

He was also a preacher in his own right; he was very popular, traveling to Avignon and Switzerland, where he was welcomed by the "Friends of God," a group inspired by the teachings of another German mystic, Meister Eckhart (c.1260 - 1328). He left them and preached in Alsace during the height of the Black Death there, then returned to Germany in 1350. His last known correspondence was with Christina Ebner in 1351; after that, we have no knowledge of the end of his life.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Christina Ebner-Mystic Writer

From the Church of St. Sebald in Nuremberg;
Christina Ebner stands to the side of the Virgin and Child
Christina Ebner was born on Good Friday (26 March) 1277, to a well-off Nuremberg family. Her mother taught her to be very devout, and from the age of seven Christina asked to be allowed to become a nun. At the age of twelve she was granted her request, and her parents took her to the Dominican nuns of the Monastery of St. John the Baptist in Engelthal (near Nuremberg).

After one year there, however, she was taken with an illness that recurred thrice per year for the next decade, and then frequently thereafter. Difficult for her, but during her illnesses she had visions, which she was encouraged to write down by her confessor, Father Conrad of Füssen.

She consequently wrote a biography that recounts her whole life, and she kept writing right up until 1353 (she died 27 December 1355/6). Her first account was called Leben und Offenbarungen [Life and Revelations]. She also wrote a book that recounted mystical visions experienced by other nuns in her monastery, called Schwesternbuch [Book of Sisters], and later another book of revelations called Offenbarungen [Revelations]. In this last book, she also recorded her impressions and ideas on certain historical events, such as the 1348 riots in Nuremberg, an earthquake, and the conflict between the papacy and the Holy Roman Emperor Louis IV.

Christina's fame drew several visitors to her, including Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV. Another was Henry of Nördlingen, priest, traveler, and spiritual advisor, who gave her a book by the mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg. In fact, Henry deserves his own entry, which he will get tomorrow.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Not Made By Hand

17th century painted icon (ironically) representing
the "Not Made by Human Hands" tradition;

the Greek letters in the halo indicate that it
is an acheiropoieton.
Speaking of iconoclasm (as we just were in the post on the halo in art), did the Middle Ages or the Church have a position on images not made by hand? If images of the divine were blasphemous, how would one deal with Veronica's Veil, the cloth used by Veronica to wipe the face of Jesus while on his way to Golgotha? His likeness mysteriously appeared on the cloth. Was this not an icon, and proof that icons were acceptable to God?

To be honest, the early Middle Ages should not have had to deal with this dilemma, since the story of Veronica is not found in the Gospels and is not readily known until almost the 13th century. In fact, it is our old friend Gerald of Wales who first records anything in the West about the veil, which he says he saw on a pilgrimage to Rome in 1199. (Gerald is the first to point out that the name "Veronica" is Latin "vera+icon"; that is, "true+image.")*

Authentic or not, it was the start of a trend of cloths that showed the face of Jesus without having been made by human agency. Icons such as this had a name, Acheiropoieta, "not made by hands" (Greek ἀχειροποίητα).

Despite the "not made by hands" label, many items that fell into this category were made by human hands, so long as those hands were holy, or the subject was an acheiropoieton. Saint Luke was said to have painted a portrait of Mary when he visited her. If this image survived, it would be an acceptable icon. Also, human reproductions of Acheiropoieta were considered by some to be as sacred as the originals, and as acceptable in the face of the iconoclasm controversy.

An eastern Church Council of 836 declares certain items to be legitimate Acheiropoieta: the Image of Edessa, a square of cloth containing the face of Jesus; an image in Lydda (now Israel) of the Virgin that appeared miraculously on a pillar in a church; another image of Mary in Lydda that appeared in another church. Unfortunately, there was no Church Council of 836, and the document is considered fraudulent.

Acheiropoieta are usually considered to have miraculous properties. On the Island of Cyprus there is an Acheiropoietos Monastery, named so because of an Acheiropoieton that miraculously moved from Asia Minor in the 11th century to save itself from a Turkish invasion.

*To the Middle Ages, this was proof that the world is composed of patterns and symbolism. To later historians, this suggests that "Veronica" was an ideal name made-up expressly for this anecdote.

Friday, June 13, 2014

Haloes

(photo credit Conor Hogan, 2014)
The picture here is medieval, although not from the Middle Ages. It's of the dome of Our Lady of Victory Church in Lackawanna, NY. It was taken and sent to me by someone who asked "Why is the halo triangular?" It turns out that there have been many ways over the centuries to express saintliness or godliness through the use of different styles of halo.

"Halo" comes from the Greek ἅλως, which means the "shining disk" of the sun or moon.* There have been many representations of haloes in art throughout the whole of art history. Sometimes they are represented as rays shining out from the head of a special person. Often they are circular. The circle may be portrayed as a disk behind the saint's head, looking like a large dinner plate floating so that his or her head is perfectly centered in the circle. In the Renaissance (see the top image here), when realistic perspective became a goal in art, the halo was often shown as if it were a perfectly round and flat disc that was attached to the back of the head, so that at an angle you would see it as an elliptical hat (check out the fancy hats here). Later, it was fashionable to portray it as a simple lighted "hoop," as we see in this 15th-century painting.

There were some special haloes, used in only certain circumstances. Members of the Holy Trinity could be seen with a halo that had three rays (or sets of three lines) extending from the head to the circumference. We see that in the diagram to the right. A halo made of stars was used only for the Blessed Virgin Mary (here is a sample, connecting her to the EU flag), because of the woman whose head was surrounded by 12 stars mentioned in the Book of Revelation who gives birth to the child who was to rule all nations.

Which leaves the triangle. The triangle also represented the Trinity, but was used solely for depicting God the Father. This was perhaps because the triangle is the obvious symbol for the Trinity. It could be because God the Father rules in Heaven, and "heaven" or the area above the earth was sometimes represented symbolically as a triangle. Earth's symbol was a square, due to the four cardinal directions and the "four corners of the earth," and if you look from one horizon to straight up and then down to the far horizon, you have drawn a triangle with your eyes.

So, the church in Lackawanna, NY, drew from some old symbolism for the depiction of God on the dome; clearly, it was not built by iconoclasts.

*You can see examples of the meteorological phenomena that inspired the word here.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Ars Nova: Jean de Muris

Treatise on Musical Intervals, by Jean de Muris
Jean de Muris was mentioned in the post on Ars Nova as the author of Ars novæ musicæ [New technique of music]. He did more than that, however: he was also a mathematician and philosopher, an astronomer, a colleague of Philippe de Vitry, a lecturer at the Sorbonne.

Born near Lisieux about 1300 (he died c. 1351), he studied at the University of Paris and spent a lot of his time there as well as at Evreux, Fontevrault and Mezières-en-Brenne. He wrote a few books—perhaps as many as five (we are not sure whether some were written by him, but similar style is a reason for ascribing some works to him).

There are over 150 manuscripts of copies of works attributed to Muris. At one point, a work that criticized the Ars Nova was considered to have been written by him, but later it was determined that someone else wrote it. Muris certainly approved of the new style in his works. One of these, the Quæstiones super partes musicæ ["Questions on the parts of music"], can be read (in Latin) here.

Here's a section in English:
What is music? Music is the mistress art of the arts, containing in herself the beginnings of all methods [...], confirmed in the nature of all things, remarkably internalized proportionally, delightful to the intellect, loved by the ear. Music gladdens the downcast, rewards the eager, thwarts the envious, comforts the weak, keeps awake the vigilant, awakens the sleepers, nourishes love, honors its possessor, if music, which was established at last for the praise of God, has pursued its just goal. [link, p.239]
This embodies the Ars nova, which brought formal music out of the Church and made it complex, expressive, and secular. 

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Ars nova

from Italian manuscript J. IV.115,
an example of Ars Nova notation
Beginning in the early 1300s there was a change in musical style, an evolution from monophony (a single melody) to polyphony, in which two or more lines of melody intermingled. The result was to give music a richer, more expressive sound.

The Church didn't like it.

Pope John XXII rejected it (as he tried to reject elections of which he did not approve). The sacred monophonic chant of the Church was being mixed with secular tunes. Music was becoming "fancy" and "frivolous" in ways that did not suit the pope.

The new style caught on, however, and there was no turning back. Two books describing the new technique helped to spread the new ideas. They were Ars novæ musicæ [New technique of music] by Jean de Muris c. 1320, and Ars nova notandi [New technique of musical notation] by Philippe de Vitry in about 1322. Because of these titles, 20th century historians refer to this style and period of time in music (the 14th century) as the Ars Nova. This new style developed at the same time in France and Italy. In France, one of its greatest exemplars was the poet Guillaume de Machaut. A sample of his musical composition is found in this post.

Among the new forms of non-sacred music given to us by the Ars Nova are the Madrigal, usually a song of love for two voices, and the Ballad, a story with a non-religious theme which was meant to be sung in public. The music in the manuscript of the Roman de Fauvel is an example of Ars nova.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

The Story of Fauvel

Fauvel holds forth.  
A 14th century manuscript is an amazing example of a "multi-media" piece of fiction.

The story? It's about a horse ... a horse that becomes a politician.

The Roman de Fauvel ["Story of Fauvel"] is dated to as early as 1310, although the author is unknown. It is an allegory, in which a fawn-colored (French fauve) horse decides he is unhappy with the stable and moves himself into the largest room in the nearby house, altering it to suit his needs (like adding a crib for fresh hay). Fortuna (Fate) makes him the head of the house, and leaders both secular and religious come to listen to him, increasing his fame. Ultimately, Fauvel marries Lady Vainglory and begins a life of begetting corrupt leaders that will usher in the end times.

The original story was expanded by Chaillous de Pesstain*, who added musical notations to it—in fact, 169 snippets of musical notation to accompany the story. This particular copy is found in the Bibliotheque Nationale in France as manuscript BN fr. 146 (which you can see online here).

The Roman de Fauvel gave birth to a modern idiom. To "curry" is to groom a horse, and the leaders in the story would curry Fauvel in order to ingratiate themselves to him. "To curry Fauvel" became a saying to indicate trying to please someone so that they look kindly upon you. After the 17th century, this was misunderstood in English as "to curry favor," to try to get a favor from someone by flattery.

*And that's about the sum total of all we know about him. He may have been just the scribe of that particular manuscript.

Monday, June 9, 2014

The Death(s) of King Harthacnut

Harthacanute's death at the wedding feast
[Cambridge University Library, Ee.3.59, fo. 7r]
He was the son of King Cnut, and his royal name was Cnut II (of England) or Cnut III (of Denmark), but he is more usually known to us as Harthacnut. His parentage ascent to the throne has been mentioned before, but today we are going to talk about the cause of his death...or the causes of his death.

Harthacnut died on 8 June 1042, when he was only 24 years old. He was attending a wedding for one of his former stallers, Tovi the Proud. (A staller was a Norse official, a constable or standard-bearer.) Tovi was getting married for the second time, to Gytha, daughter of the powerful Osgod Clapa.

Anyway, he was drinking a toast to the bride when, as the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle put it:
A.D. 1042.  This year died King Hardacnute at Lambeth, as he stood drinking: he fell suddenly to the earth with a tremendous struggle; but those who were nigh at hand took him up; and he spoke not a word afterwards, but expired on the sixth day before the ides of June.  He was king over all England two years wanting ten nights; and he is buried in the old minster at Winchester with King Knute his father.  And his mother for his soul gave to the new minster the head of St. Valentine the Martyr: and ere he was buried all people chose Edward for king in London.  And they received him as their king, as was natural; and he reigned as long as God granted him. [Translator: James Henry Ingram]
The typical interpretation given to this by historians is that he died from a stroke due to an excess of alcohol.

Others think it was more likely a heart attack.

There is another theory, one which draws on a circumstance from long before the wedding feast.

Harthacnut, though young, was the center of a lot of political machinations. A history written at the order of his mother, Emma, says that in 1041 he sent to Normandy for his brother Edward so that they could rule together. One version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says Edward was actually sworn in. Edward had no heir—not even a wife—and his naming as a king seems strange, considering Harthacnut was so young.

Did Harthacnut have a known illness? One that was making him clearly unsuitable to be king? Is that why Edward was summoned and sworn in? One historian* hypothesizes something like tuberculosis that was causing him to deteriorate in a way clear to those around him, suggesting that they secure an heir to the throne without relying on him to survive long enough to produce one himself.

*Howard, Ian, Harold II: a Throne-Worthy King. Essay included in King Harold II and the Bayeux Tapestry (2005). Boydell Press, ISBN 1843831244.

Friday, June 6, 2014

Gilbert de Clare

Gilbert de Clare, Tewksbury Abbey
Unknown if this is "our" Gilbert,
his son, or his grandfather
Gilbert de Clare, 7th Earl of Gloucester (1243 - 1295), was mentioned in the post on the Battle of Evesham, switching support from the treasonous Simon de Montfort to King Henry III. Though very young, he had already managed some significant accomplishments.

His father died in 1262, when Gilbert was still in his teens, and so Gilbert was made a ward of Humphrey de Bohun, the 2nd Earl of Hereford (whose son would also have experience with a traitor), but came into his own a year later. So it was that, in spring of 1264 (as part of the uprising against King Henry), he captured Canterbury and attacked the Jews.
He went on to sack the Jewry perhaps with the main intention of destroying all the evidence of debts [...]. The result was that the Jewry was dispersed. It is unclear if there were fatalities. What is known is that two years later, in 1266, the community had returned to Oxford and 18 leading local Jews signed a treaty of self-defence, in which they sought to protect themselves against, 'liars, improper persons, or slanders'. [link]
He may have been emulating Simon de Montfort, who had expelled Jews from Leicester in 1231 (one year before Henry established the Domus Conversorum to give English Jews an option for co-existence). The older Montfort's parents had been extremely hostile to Jews in the past. Clare might have been operating simply because he could, and wanted to impress Montfort, who was the focal point of the barons' uprising against Henry and looked like he would be the next king.

Eventually, however, Clare's sympathies shifted back to Prince Edward in 1265, after Edward escaped his guardians and began to rally supporters against the rebellious barons. Years later, when Henry died, Clare swiftly and openly declared loyalty to the new King Edward I. Clare was named Guardian of England whenever Edward was out of the country.

He died on 7 December 1295 and was buried in Tewksbury Abbey. A stained glass window in the abbey represents him...or his son Gilbert, the 8th Earl...or his grandfather Gilbert, the 5th Earl.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

The Battle of Evesham

Evesham Abbey had existed for about five and a half centuries by the time Henry III was captured by Simon de Montfort at the Battle of Lewes in 1264. Montfort was at the head of a group of barons who felt Henry was too irresponsible as a monarch, but as Montfort introduced reforms that gave Parliamentary representation to the lower classes, the nobles started to turn on him. Evesham would be the setting for Montfort's defeat and Henry's return to power.

In 1265, Henry's son Edward was released from captivity "on parole." Those loyal to Henry began to focus on helping Edward as Montfort's popularity continued to wane after the powerful Earl of Gloucester, Gilbert de Clare, stopped supporting him. Also, de Montfort made an alliance of convenience with Llywelyn ap Gruffyd, Prince of Wales—mentioned here as "Llewelyn the Last"—which proved an unpopular move with his remaining English supporters.

Clare joined forces with Prince Edward, and together they moved to occupy Worcester. Montfort gathered his army and marched to Wales to add Llewelyn's troops. Unfortunately, while Montfort was in Wales, Edward and Clare expanded the territory over which they had control. In early August, the two armies met near Evesham Abbey, with Edward's larger force trapping Montfort's in a loop of the River Avon and blocking his only chance of escape.

Montfort was, in fact, keeping Henry with him for security. Henry came close to being killed in the cross-fighting, but the battle ended quickly once Simon de Montfort was killed and mutilated by Edward's forces. His troops were chased and cut down without mercy. Henry was restored to the throne and held a Parliament the following month in which those who turned on him were disinherited. Ultimately, after some more military engagements between the two sides, Henry's Dictum of Kenilworth  offered the nobles a chance to regain their former estates via payments to the Crown. Years later, Edward would become King Edward I.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

The Lewes Skeleton

The skull of Skeleton 180, with sword damage
The monks of Lewes Priory ran a Hospital of St. Nicholas in the Middle Ages, now long gone. In the early 1990s, during an excavation of the site, a number of skeletons were unearthed. One of them, "Skeleton 180," showed evidence of several sword blows to the skull. The proximity to the site of the Battle of Lewes, and the fact that hastily dug mass graves were a common after-effect of large battles,  led to the conclusion that he was killed in 1264 while either attacking or defending King Henry III.

The skull was sent to the University of Edinburgh for radiocarbon dating, and the results were surprising: it was much older than 1264. In fact, it dated to within a generation (before or after) of the Norman Conquest. The picture it suggests of the events around 1066—and this is the only skeletal remains we have even remotely connected to the fighting that was part of the Norman Conquest—adds a little more detail to our understanding of what happened when William of Normandy decided to assert his claim to the throne of England.
"There is no record of any skirmishes happening in Lewes or any other towns in Sussex at the Norman Conquest, but this suggests that the Normans didn't just turn up and say, 'We're in charge', and everyone said, 'OK, that's fine'. It begins to paint a picture of what might have happened in the aftermath." [source]
As we know, lifestyle leaves an imprint on the body that can be analyzed by forensic science.
Osteoarchaeologist Malin Holst from the University of York, who was commissioned by Sussex Archaeological Society to examine the skeleton, said: “The first injury was probably a cut to the right side of the ear and upper jaw. This was then followed by a series of sword cuts, all delivered from the left hand side behind the victim, in a downward and horizontal motion.” 
However she has discovered much more which helps build up a picture of the individual. Malin said: “He ate a diet particularly rich in marine fish, and was at least 45 years old but may have been older. He had some spinal abnormalities and suffered from chronic infection of the sinuses. He showed age-related wear and tear of the joints of his spine, shoulders and left wrist, which might have been uncomfortable. He had lost a few teeth during life, possibly as a result of receding gums. He had two small tumours on his skull.” [source]
Skeleton 180 provides a are glimpse into a life from the 11th century.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The Battle of Lewes

The remains of Lewes Castle
King John wasn't the only English monarch who had his barons turn against him (forcing him to sign the Magna Carta). Another constitutional crisis arose a mere 50 years later during the reign of Henry III.

Henry lived a lavish lifestyle that demanded lots of money, which he demanded from increased taxation. He also got involved in issues that the English barons felt were not necessary to England's interests. For instance, Henry "bought" the title of "King of Sicily" from Pope Innocent IV by funding a war with the rulers of Sicily at that time, the Hohenstaufens. Henry wanted the title for his second son, Edmund. When funding for the war ran out, and victory was no longer in sight, Innocent reneged on the deal and gave the title to Charles of Anjou.

The barons, led by Simon de Montfort, tried to control Henry with, among other things, the 1258 Provisions of Oxford, reducing his powers. Henry got a dispensation from the pope in 1261 that released him (in his eyes) from the Provisions, and the barons and the forces loyal to Henry started arming for civil war.

A turning point came on 14 May 1264, at the Battle of Lewes. Henry was ensconced in Lewes Castle in Sussex, but left it to attack de Montfort's forces. Part of Henry's army was under his command, and part under that of Prince Edward (later King Edward I). Edward's cavalry drove off the attackers, but Edward pursued them, leaving his father outnumbered by the remaining de Montfort men. Captured, Henry was forced to sign an agreement called the Mise* of Lewes, giving control of government over to Simon de Montfort.

Constitutional historians do not recognize de Montfort as a king, even though he was controlling the government for about a year. His support faded, and Prince Edward raised an army a year later and defeated de Montfort at the Battle of Evesham, returning power to Henry.

*"Mise" is a rarely used word from French meaning "settlement."

Monday, June 2, 2014

Vikings & Coincidence

These may be the remains of Olaf Guthfrithsson
Not historical coincidence; recent coincidence. In the post on Vikings in Ireland, just a few days ago, Olaf III Guthfrithsson was mentioned; he had been King of Dublin from 934 until 941, and also had brief periods of rule in parts of England. One day after that post, imagine my surprise when I see an article with the title "Skeleton Discovered May Be Viking King Olaf Guthfrithsson"!

An archaeological excavation conducted in East Lothian (Scotland) in 2005 turned up the remains of a young adult male surrounded by artifacts that suggest he was very important. One of those artifacts is a belt whose clasp is clearly of Viking design.

Accurate identification of the skeleton is probably not possible, suggesting that the headline of the article was designed to generate more interest than the actual find deserves. Although modern forensic science can determine a lot from medieval bones (also coincidentally discussed in this blog in a recent post), the best opportunity for identification of a specific person is genetic comparison of DNA in the remains with known modern descendants. In this case, we have no descendants of Olaf from whom we can get DNA.

Even without positive identification of Olaf, however, the find is worthwhile, as explained by Fiona Hyslop, the Cabinet Secretary for Culture and External Affairs:
"This is a fascinating discovery and it’s tantalising that there has been the suggestion that this might be the body of a 10th century Irish Viking king. Scotland and Ireland’s archaeological communities enjoy a close working partnership, and this find and subsequent research is of particular interest to both, further emphasising the myriad ways in which the two countries’ histories are entwined."