A heads up: This post includes images of early medieval burials from Lindisfarne. If you’d like to explore the archaeological details up close, scroll on.
How were these people buried? And what do their graves reveal about who they were, what they believed and how life on the island evolved over time?
Our team of osteologists is now analysing the remains we’ve found to see what the bones themselves can tell us – and in 2026, you can join us as we work together to unlock new details about the people of Lindisfarne.
But before then, let’s take a closer look at what the burials are already suggesting…
There was no single way to lay people to rest in early medieval Britain. While many assume that conversion to Christianity brought a shift from cremation to inhumation (where the full body is buried in the ground), both practices actually coexisted for centuries.
By the 8th century, burials in Northumbria were mostly inhumations, typically laid east-west, but with plenty of variation. Some people were buried on their backs (supine burials), others on their sides, or even face-down (prone burials). Some graves were lined with stone (cist burials), others covered with slabs or marked with pebbles, and even wooden crosses.
A small number of burials were marked by stone monuments, but it wasn’t until the later medieval period that headstones began to appear in the form we recognise today.

Credit: DigVentures
Our excavations have revealed that the Lindisfarne cemetery was huge, stretching from the priory ruins right down to the edge of the early harbour, meaning many individuals were buried just metres from the sea – much like the Bowl Hole cemetery in nearby Bamburgh.
Throughout our time on Lindisfarne, we’ve lifted around 100 burials, and over 20,000 fragments of disarticulated remains spanning the 7th-11th centuries. Based on the extent of the cemetery, and where we now think the boundaries were, we estimate that the cemetery may hold around 3000 individuals.
While few graves contain personal artefacts beyond the occasional namestone, ring or buckle, many are scattered with smooth white quartz pebbles – likely collected from the island’s beaches at low tide. This small gesture echoes the way many of us place flowers on graves today.
While this tradition is also found at a number of early medieval, late Iron Age and even older sites across Britain and Ireland, there’s no mention of this tradition in Lindisfarne’s written records, highlighting just how much archaeology can reveal about the everyday early medieval customs that have been lost to time.
So, what types of burial have we found? While there’s plenty of variation across the cemetery, the burials uncovered so far can broadly be grouped into 8 main types. Together, they paint a vivid picture of a community whose beliefs, traditions and resources evolved over centuries.

This burial appears to have been a shroud burial. Although no remains of the shroud were recovered, the slightly raised shoulders and tightly drawn position of the limbs suggest that the individual was carefully wrapped before interment. Credit: DigVentures
The most common burial type on Lindisfarne is the ‘shroud’ burial. Individuals were laid on their backs, facing east-west with their feet toward the sea, with their hands crossed over their lap and ankles drawn close together, showing that their bodies had been carefully wrapped in a shroud, before being placed directly into the ground.
These graves were simple and unfurnished, beyond the smooth white quartz pebbles often found with or upon them – quiet, personal gestures that speak volumes about care and remembrance.

Credit: DigVentures
We’ve unearthed at least three ‘prone’ burials where individuals have been buried face-down or on their front, widely believed to be a rite that marks out ‘deviants’ or social outcasts.
However, unlike prone burials at other sites such as West Heslerton in North Yorkshire, the ones we’ve found at Lindisfarne aren’t confined to the edge of the cemetery. Could this practice have had another meaning on Holy Island?

While most stones are no longer in place, this stone-lined burial may have also been stone-capped previously. Credit: DigVentures
Some individuals were interred in graves lined with stone slabs, and in some cases, sealed with a large cover stone. These ‘cist’ burials show a growing investment of time and effort in the burial process, and may mark individuals of particular status or significance. One even features small standing stones placed at its four corners, offering insight into changing early medieval burial customs.

A layer of charcoal was present beneath this individual, suggesting this could have been a charcoal burial. Credit: DigVentures
Threee of the most distinctive graves uncovered so far feature a layer of charcoal beneath the body – one adult, two juvenile. ‘Charcoal’ burials are rare across early medieval England, and typically date from the 6th-8th centuries.
In the Christian beliefs of this period, charcoal and ash symbolised purity, protection and transformation, suggesting these burials may have been intended to purify or safeguard the deceased.

Credit: DigVentures
In some areas of the site, we’ve found disarticulated or reburied bone fragments that were gathered up and placed into small charnel pits. These likely date to the post-medieval period, when centuries of ploughing disturbed earlier graves, and farmers respectfully reinterred the bones they uncovered. It’s a quiet act of care, connecting the island’s later residents to those who came long before them.
One of the most exciting discoveries from our penultimate season was an individual buried alongside boat timbers. All that survives are the iron rivets known as ‘clench nails’, which are now being analysed in the lab for traces of preserved wood.
While this might not represent a full ‘ship burial’ like the one at Sutton Hoo, the reuse of boat planks still marks this grave out as something special, as we haven’t found anything like this on Lindisfarne before. If confirmed, it would be one of the most northerly examples of this burial type in Britain – and a powerful reminder of Lindisfarne’s deep maritime connections.

Credit: DigVentures

Credit: DigVentures
Another rare and remarkable find is the chest burial, where an individual was laid to rest inside a wooden chest with a hinged lid, once used for storing earthly personal possessions. Only around twenty examples are known from high-status ecclesiastical sites across northern England, including York Minster, Wearmouth, Pontefract, Dacre and Whithorn.
Some researchers have suggested they may have held the remains of holy men or women whose bones could later be exhumed during the process of sainthood, as the hinged lid would provide easy access to bones – a necessary step in exhuming a person’s remains, to make a saint. The Lindisfarne example, complete with its lockplate and traces of preserved wood, fits this pattern – and adds a new chapter to this unusual tradition.

Credit: DigVentures
Among the most moving discoveries so far is a ‘focal’ burial, a grave around which other individuals were later interred. This one appears to have been a woman, buried with several young children around her, with two more individuals above.
By her head were traces of gold thread (possibly from a headband), a fragment of green porphyry (a precious stone often used for portable altars) and a small paved area above the grave. Radiocarbon dating places her burial in the 9th century, with the surrounding graves added over the next 100-200 years.
Who was this woman? Was she holy, like Æbbe of Coldingham, or Hild of Whitby? Was she someone associated with healing, or the care of children? Whoever she was, her burial clearly continued to inspire devotion long after her death.
Taken together, these discoveries show that the people of Lindisfarne were far more diverse than historical sources suggest. This was a thriving community – men, women, and children from both near and far, who expressed their faith and identities in many different ways.
Though most were laid to rest in simple and humbly marked burials, over time we see more elaborate and distinctive practices emerging.
There’s also clear evidence that people continued to be buried here long after the Viking raid, when the monastery was supposedly abandoned. Lindisfarne didn’t simply fade into legend – it remained a living landscape of faith, healing and community.
While some individuals show signs of sharp-force injury, infection or disease, others appear to have lived well into old age. Fittingly, the Brittonic name for Holy Island, Medcaut, means ‘place of healing’, an appropriate description for a site that seems to have drawn people seeking both medical and spiritual care.
Through these graves, we glimpse an island that endured – vibrant, compassionate and spiritually active, at the edge of the North Sea.
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