"All the gold I could eat": Staffordshire hoard of Anglo-Saxon weapon fittings
As Ralph has noted, fabulous things have been coming out of the English soil just lately, and as Cliopatria's official early medievalist I suppose I ought to try and piece together some more of the story behind the deposition of these marvellous objects, the 1500+ gold and silver items that is being called the Staffordshire hoard and reckoned a more important find than the Sutton Hoo boat burial. So here goes.
The discovery was the work of a metal detectorist, Terry Herbert, and it's been reported so widely that you probably already know the background if you're interested. If not, however, I can point you to the web coverage. The official management of the PR has been excellent: despite the discovery being made in July, it was news even to us 'on the inside' until press day, meaning that the site has been safely cleared without nighthawks descending. The official site, for it has one and a stylish one, is here, and there you can get the press releases and a PDF catalogue of the objects as well as some other material, but it is working quite hard just now and if you want to try somewhere else, the press release was posted here at Past Horizons almost before anywhere else, Archaeology in Europe had a special page up before day end, and then the press got wind of it. Richard Scott Nokes gathers a lot of the coverage at his Unlocked Wordhoard, and Peter Konieczny has many posts up at News for Medievalists including this array of video reports. The other side of the official effort, however, has been that even as it went to press 615 different photos of the objects were up on Flickr as a special set in the Portable Antiquities Service's photostream, and that's robust enough to stand almost any number of fascinated browsers.
So, what on earth have we actually got here? Well, in the basest terms there's 5 kilograms of gold metalwork, half that again of silver and overall more than 1500 items; the actual number is unknown as yet because about 50 cubes of soil that gave a metal detector return were lifted out bodily for disaggregation in a laboratory, and we don't know how many things are in them yet. However, this is so much more than a bullion hoard, or rather less: if it were just an accumulation of precious metal, as the head of the investigation, Kevin Leahy, has emphasised, there would then have been belt buckles, strap-ends, brooches, dress fittings and so on (and, I might add, coins), but what we have is almost exclusively fittings from war-gear: sword pommels, hilt collars, helmet cheek pieces and crests. Even those bits that seem not to be war-gear, three crumpled ornamental crosses that have been removed from something to which they had been riveted and a fascinating strip bearing an inscription from Numbers forecasting the overthrow of God's enemies, seem to me as if they could have been ornaments for shields or helmets, which seems to fit better with the martial nature of everything else. (Note this analysis by Brandon Hawk at Point of Know Return, who concludes provisionally that:"this verse evokes a supplication for bodily and spiritual aid from a warrior in need of the grace of God".) Furthermore, all of this stuff is of the top grade: as Leahy again said,"this was the very best that the Anglo-Saxon metalworkers could do, and they were very good". So it is not just a marvel but a decided oddity; a top-quality and very selective accumulation of unparalleled size. Given the which, interpretations have been running slightly wild.
The wildest of these have focussed on the folded crosses. It's been suggested that the fact that these items were so bent and mistreated suggests that the hoarders were pagan. This suggestion, along with the seventh- to eighth-century date that the styles and the script on the inscribed strip seem to suggest (note that one of the two palæographers consulted places the strip's script much later, in the ninth century), and the location in the middle of what in Anglo-Saxon times was rural Mercia, have allowed people to link the hoard with King Penda of Mercia, a repeated regicide and obdurate pagan made infamous by St Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People, whose warlike career and many tributes and victories certainly could accommodate such a trove were he not at the early end of the date-range. Other Mercian kings followed him who managed to control most of England south of the Humber, however, and it does seem that the deposition of this hoard must belong to one of their reigns, and the quality of it does suggest a royal connection. So even those not going"ZOMG the pagan warlord king's treasury!!!1!" have been talking in terms of loot from a battle of royal armies.
I have to admit that I think that is over-simple. Various circumstances stick out at me. Firstly, though this is inference, this was buried in the middle of nowhere. The PAS and the county archæologists have had plenty of time to examine the find site; if they're not digging it, and they're not, it seems to me that that means that ground-penetrating radar has revealed nothing that might be, for example, a royal hall where something like this might be put for safe-keeping. And we know of no settlements very nearby in this period. I think that this means that the hoard was buried in a hurry, perhaps on the run, after something had gone very wrong for its carriers. And, of course, the fact that it remained to be discovered in 2009 means that whatever was going wrong for them presumably continued to do so; this was not a treasure that anyone living who knew the location could have afforded to ignore.
Secondly, and here I have to acknowledge that I am not the only person thinking along these lines as this post and the comments at Carla Nayland Historical Fiction makes clear (don't be misled by her blog's name: Carla's analysis and data collection is as sharp as any 'real' historian's), there is the selection. Yes, it is war-gear stuff, so whatever was motivating this accumulation is based in some sense on these items' martial context. But the metal has been stripped off the weapons, so this can't easily be a king's treasury. If one had eighty-odd really really richly ornamented swords (and they have got bits of eighty-four sword pommels so far) the swords themselves would be the gifts to one's followers, not their fittings. These have been robbed. As one of Carla's commentators suggests, this may mean that whoever was forced to give them up made sure to keep the swords themselves against their come-back attempt, but even in less story-book cases it needs explanation. The same fact militates against it being war-loot; if the swords and helmets from which these came had been looted, why on earth would one strip the gold off them rather than retain the whole, war-worthy, object? And in any case, though it has been argued that there was an awful lot more precious metal in circulation in Anglo-Saxon England than its preservation suggests because it tends to get reused, this is an awful lot for one army.1 Eighty swords one might expect; but eighty so very rich ones? This is more than a single kingdom's élite housetroop, this is many battles' worth I think.
So okay, my first thought when the news reached my department was that this was a craftsman's hoard, that, in other words, this metal had been gathered for the making of some truly fantastic altar frontal or a set of chalices or something like that. That fits with its being robbed off things but it doesn't fit with the location and the fact that it's all war-gear means that that object or objects would have had to have been meant to have a very particular significance, swords-into-ploughshares and so on. That's not impossible, but it makes things more tricky to explain. And if that was genuinely what was going on, why was it here and never recovered? I think this gets a bit easier when we separate out accumulation and deposition. We have to imagine a scenario where a treasure that had been accumulated over time was being moved and had to be hidden quickly. The accumulators and the depositors don't therefore have to be the same people.
The best interpretation I can therefore come up with is this. What we are looking at here may be a tribute payment, demanded in silver and gold by weight (which might explain the apparently roughly proportional allotment of each metal). Whoever had to pay this had to strip a load of the richest gear, perhaps generations of treasure (which might explain the long date-range that appears to be possible in the age of the objects) of its precious metal fittings; and, apparently, it had to be war-gear. At this point one can't avoid symbolism and I have to admit that I see a defeated king being forced to deface his family's hoard of weapons by his vanquisher. If all this is correct, the vanquisher or the defeated would seem to have been Mercian, but I don't see that we can guess which with any solidity. However, what I think we do have to envisage is that the defeated party did not accept this willingly, and some attempt was presumably made to recover this treasure, on its way into or out of Mercia or else by raid once it had arrived. But the recovery or raid was caught, and apparently defeated. Some of those who were carrying the treasure buried it, quickly, without preserving its shape or form, just piling it into a hole in the ground somewhere off the route of their retreat. Perhaps they hoped to insure themselves against death by blackmailing their captors with the location of the hoard. If so, their plan failed, and they died without being able to let anyone know where the fabulous hoard had been hidden.
Staffordshire hoard excavation from Dan Pett on Vimeo.
(This video shows the Staffordshire hoard being excavated by the Birmingham archaeology team.)
This, of course, sounds a lot like a story-book narrative itself. Not for nothing have several people, including Leahy, quoted the achingly apposite words of the Beowulf poet:
They let the ground keep that ancestral treasure, gold under gravel, gone to earth, as useless to men now as it ever was.
But, romantic though it may sound, I haven't yet thought of a set of circumstances that explains the hoard's situation and contents so well. (I think 'sacrifice to the gods' is actually more romantic.) Now of course, or at least once it comes off display at the Birmingham Museum, it will be intensively studied and analysed and we'll find out more about where the metal came from, what kingdoms or places might have supplied the artefacts and if we're lucky (though it will needs must be subjective) what era they date from, and then things may become clear that make my interpretation quite impossible. I'd actually quite welcome that because the unresolvable aspects of my hypothesis there will always nag at me unless we can somehow nail them down. But for now, that's my guess, and I'd be very interested in hearing yours...
1. Mark Blackburn,"Gold in England during the 'Age of Silver' (eighth-eleventh centuries)" in James Graham-Campbell & Gareth Williams (edd.), Silver Economy in the Viking Age (Walnut Creek 2007), pp. 55-98.