A Hoard of Gold Scrap

The Staffordshire Hoard is easily the biggest Anglo-Saxon news of the last two years, if not decade. Not only spectacular bling, but also intriguing mystery. National Geographic recently aired two documentaries on the hoard of which “Secrets of the Lost Gold” (Nat. Geo., Nov. 2011) was the most interesting because they reveal some of the analysis of the hoard to date.

It is a hoard of scrap. Everything in the hoard is broken, bent or otherwise damaged. Surprising to the analysts many of the 3500 pieces of precious metal and gems to emerge from the dirt so far show signs of recycling. Gold is not mined in England so it must have come from elsewhere. All of the gold is the equivalent of 18 caret with a variety of impurities from the recycling process. Analysts believe that the bulk of gold came from Byzantium, probably coming to England as Byzantine coins. These coins were the universal currency of Late Antiquity because of their gold content. Britain did not have a coin based economy so that these coins were valued only for their gold content. They estimate that the gold in the hoard represents about 3000 Byzantine solidus. Chemical composition of the garnets indicate that some garnets came from Bohemia in the Czech republic (small garnets) and India (large cabochons from the crosses and pendants).  They suggest that the large cabochons had been obtained from India by Rome and recycled by the Saxons.  All of the garnets were specifically hand cut and polished for each piece. Some of the inlay, especially brilliant blues in the garnet cloisonné are made of Roman glass and some were repaired with amber instead of garnet. The style and design suggest that weapons date from 550 AD to early 8th century, a span of about 150 years. Interestingly this is about the amount of time that Bede claimed had passed from the Saxon arrival in Britain to his time in the early 8th century; then again, perhaps this influenced the analysts’ dates.

A few random thoughts on the hoard

First, I don’t think it should be so surprising that it is a hoard of scrap. Every hoard I can think of found in Britain, like silver hoards in Pictland, was made up of objects to be recycled. They were not all military objects, but most were broken, bent or obviously intended for recycling. I think it must also depend on what types of objects that were primarily given precious metals. For the Romans it may have been dinnerware and religious objects, but for the Saxons it may have mostly been weapons.

Is it so surprising that this hoard is scrap considering the amount of recycling evidenced in the hoard itself? Could there have been a scrap market where smiths got their materials?  If so then why no women’s ware or church material? It makes me wonder if war gear was not more likely to be recycled as an insult to the enemy. New young warriors would want designs especially for them and so recycling is necessary. Indeed, kings who commission weapons for their warriors would need to recycle captured goods to meet their gifting needs.There might be specific instances where the gifting of an enemy weapon would be symbolically significant but most of the time, it may have been more important to give newly fashioned weapons with the king’s symbols (rather than the enemies symbols). The onus of obtaining the precious metal and gems for new creations may have fallen on the patron rather than the creator, so the need for raw materials would have driven a recycling mania.

Heirlooms are only heirlooms if they are from your family. The age rage reflected in the hoard does suggest that many of the weapons were old when they were stripped, so may have been heirlooms until lost, eventually broken beyond repair, or the family died out. Destruction of  a processional cross carried before an army could have been common as a way of showing power over the conquered. An object like a processional cross may have been irreparably attached to the people whom it was made for.  The Dream of the Rood, Ruthwell Cross, and indeed the Heavenfield cross, suggest that crosses in particular could continue to do God’s work for their intended purpose or people. Perhaps this personification of objects, as seen in the Dream of the Rood, would make the use of an enemies weapons potentially dangerous to the bearer, as if the weapon could betray its new owner. This would make it far easier to strip a beautiful weapon or shield.

I have to say of the reconstructed weapons I’ve seen I think the sæx was the most impressive. It looks a little like a short machete or Bowie knife. In archaeological contexts, usually only the blade survives but not the handle. Luckily conservationists have been able to put together a complete sæx handle among the metal scrap and it was no simple cleaver handle. One of the few clips of the “Secrets of the Lost Gold” I’ve found online is this one on the construction of a sæx pattern-welded blade.

Sourcing the Materials

Soiidus of Justinian II, 705-711 (Classical Numismatic Group, Inc; Wikipedia Commons))

The materials came from far-flung sites. Given that this hoard must represent a tiny amount of the gold, silver and gems that once existed, it begs the question of where they got it from since Britain does not have gold or gem mines. This one hoard is believed to represent the equivalent of about 3000 Byzantine solidus. What were they trading for Byzantine coins? Granted Byzantine gold coins were the universal currency because of their gold content so they need not have been trading directly with Byzantium. Still, the Anglo-Saxons didn’t have a coin based economy so barter would have been the usual type of trade. The only thing I can think of off-hand is slaves. What else could they have been exporting that would be exchanged for gold?

Most of the garnets came from Bohemia and there are a lot of garnets in all Anglo-Saxon metalwork. It’s hard to imagine what they would have been trading for them either. This is trade by royalty only because without a coin based economy smaller merchants would not have been trading in gold and gems. Or, would smaller merchants have traded in scrap like this hoard?  Not exactly raw materials, but sources of gold and gems nevertheless. There must have been some trade in small found objects missed on the battlefield or found in Roman ruins. The larger stones from India would likewise have come to Britain probably in objects to be recycled.

The Roman colored glass is more easy to understand. There must have been a lot of glass and mosaic tiles left in Britain that could have been recycled. It is surprising that more of it is not found in objects and graves. It is possible that a lot of it was recycled into stained glass windows for churches once the technology was reintroduced into Britain in the seventh century.

The conservation of the hoard is still not nearly done so there will be more revelations yet to come. The story of the Staffordshire hoard is still far from complete. There are many questions yet to be answered. Why so many garnets? Why isn’t there more amber or other stones? No jet even as an accent? No pearls or mother-of-pearl, though these may be more common in jewelry. Are we sure this is all Anglo-Saxon metalwork, not British, Pictish or Frankish? And then there will the effect of the hoard on dating metalwork in Britain. It is so much larger than all the other finds that it will force reassessment of all of the smaller finds.

Benedict Biscop

I’ve gained a new appreciation for Benedict Biscop this week after rereading the History of the Abbots and the Life of Ceolfrith, along with Ian Woods’ contribution to the new Cambridge Companion to Bede. What follows is a little musing on Biscop and questions his life open up.

I used to think of Biscop as a restless retired warrior who spent his time seeking ecclesiastical treasures. The History of the Abbots reminded me first that Biscop was not an old or retired warrior but in his mid-twenties when he left the king’s service to explore the church. When King Oswiu made him a thane and gave him land it was recognition that it was time for him to begin the life of an active adult male. His warrior days were not expected to be over. In any major campaign the thegns would be expected to participate along with what ever men they could bring. The kings retinue that Biscop would have left were mostly teenagers in various levels of training and responsibility. Biscop was a young man in his prime when he began his first trip to Rome.

Biscop’s contacts

He must have been a very charismatic person. Just think about all the contacts he made across England and the continent. Setting out on his first trip with young Wilfrid (future bishop of York) he knew well enough not to get bogged down in Lyon with Wilfrid. After his visit to Rome he made his way to Lérins, one of the most influential monasteries of the late antique world, where he stayed for two years, learned their rule and was tonsured. We all probably way underestimate the influence of Lérins on Biscop and ultimately Bede. It was probably at Lérins that he took the name Benedict. He must have been good with languages, speaking at least fluent Latin and probably learned Frankish. He must have known Latin before he left Britain, or he couldn’t have been Theodore of Tarsus’ translator, much less navigated his way to Rome or had a meaningful stay at Lérins.

Thinking of Theodore, Biscop just happened to be handy to the Pope in Rome for an assignment to escort Theodore to Britain. While Biscop may have sought out the English group in Rome when the grapevine brought him news of their arrival, it is still significant that he was chosen to be Theodore’s escort rather than a survivor of Wighard’s party. Theodore liked and trusted Biscop enough to make him Abbot of St Peter’s monastery in Canterbury for his first two years, until Hadrian arrived from Gaul. When Biscop then returned to Northumbria (after a detour to Wessex), he told King Ecgfrith of his travels and his close relationship with the new Archbishop of Canterbury. Ecgfrith then gave him 70 hides of land, a large grant, at Wearmouth. We shouldn’t underestimate Biscop’s connections with Canterbury through Archbishop Theodore and the monks at St Peter’s whom Biscop worked with for two years. Biscop’s dedication of his new monastery to St Peter may not only be due to his dedication to Rome, but also because he had just ended his tenure as abbot of St Peter’s monastery in Canterbury. We need to see Bede’s connections to Canturbury and admiration for Theodore through the lens of Biscop and his personal connections.

Biscop’s secular contacts were impressive too. It is well-known that Biscop received land from two Bernician kings, more on that below. He  had a close relationship with King Alchfrid of Deira who wanted to accompany Biscop to Rome but was stopped by his father. (This is the same trip that Wilfrid did accompany Biscop on.) Like Wilfrid, he also had a close relationship with King Cenwealh of Wessex, but apparently not with his successor. He only goes home to Bernicia/Northumbria because King Cenwealh has died.

What are the underlying connections? An obvious connection between Northumbria/Deira and Wessex is King Oswald’s widow, who was the sister of Cenwealh. Both Biscop and Wilfrid were too young to be associated with King Oswald, but his widow and children may have continued on in Northumbria, possibly Deira specifically, even under Oswald’s cousin King Oswine.  (I remember reading somewhere that Oswine may have been sheltered in Wessex during Oswald’s reign.) If Oswald had his main seat at York, where he completed the cathedral, then his widow and sons may have continued to live in York. Given that Oswald himself was the son of Acha of Deira, sister of Edwin, he may have spent his childhood more in York than Bamburgh. The continued presence of Oswald’s widow and children in Deira could explain how Bishop Aidan was welcomed so warmly by Oswine (but that is another topic). If Oswine was given refuge from Oswald in Wessex, then he could hardly have retaliated against Oswald’s sons because they were also the grandsons of King Cynegisl and nephews of King Cenwealh of Wessex. This could explain how Oswald’s son Oethelwald, nephew to both King Oswiu of Bernicia and possibly king Cenwealh of Wessex, became king of Deira. If he did not have an adult heir, King Oswine could have made King Cenwealh of Wessex’s sister’s son  Oethelwald son of Oswald his heir in Deira. After Oethelwald’s death/disappearance, his successor Oswiu’s son Alchfrith also had a close relationship with King Cenwealh of Wessex specifically on ecclesiastical issues.

The relationship between Deira and Wessex was longstanding. It seems likely that King Edwin of Deira, Oswald’s maternal uncle, was instrumental in Cynegisl becoming the sole (or primary) king of Wessex after Edwin drove out previous kings in c. 625. King Oswald’s role in standing as godfather to Cenwealh’s father Cynegisl and confirming the land grant to Bishop Birinus, Apostle to Wessex, could have provided a way in for Wessex to play a role in bringing first Deira and then all of Northumbria into the sphere of Rome. Recall that Birinus’ mission was part of the Roman church but sponsored from Gaul, initially independent from Canterbury. As part of the Roman church, Bishop Birinus accepted the authority of Canterbury, although Gaulish influence is strongly felt for another two generations. Birinus’ successor, the Frankish bishop Agilbert was very influential on Wilfrid.

Biscop was part of the relationship between Deira/Northumbria and Wessex not only in his early travels. As the familial relationship between the house of Cyngisl and Edwin eventually faded they were renewed by another royal marriage, between King Aldfrith and the sister of King Ine of Wessex, a probable cousin of Aldhelm of Malmesbury. Significantly, not only were Aldfrith and Aldhelm friends, but this marriage likely occurred during a time when Biscop was an adviser to King Aldfrith.

Biscop’s land

Benedict Biscop (Source: Wikipedia commons)

In his contribution to the Cambridge Companion to Bede, Ian Wood demonstrates that the land ownership for Wearmouth and Jarrow are not as simple as Bede or the Anon. Life of Ceolfrith claim. Like much hagiography on founders, there is reason to believe that Bede wrote the History of the Abbots to establish land claims, even though he didn’t list specific pieces of property. I want to come back to this in another post someday but just to point out one of the discrepancies:  in the History of the Abbots, Bede writes that King Oswiu gives Biscop land due a thane, but he never says that land is at Wearmouth or part of the monastery’s holdings. Bede writes in the introduction and later in the work that Wearmouth was given to Biscop from his own (Ecgfrith’s) royal land. So we have to consider the claims of Biscop’s blood family to his lands and the monastery’s desires to keep as much land as possible. Did Biscop’s brother have a claim to his thane land, or did that thane land intended to be familial land give him a claim to more of Biscop’s property? The land ownership discrepancies are food for further thought.

Biscop as founder

I suppose I also have a renewed appreciation for Biscop as an ideal monastic founder, perhaps in no small part to Bede’s skills. Biscop did the two things that a founder must do: provided their rule with careful consideration from the best of what he learned in his many travels, and provided a physical space with all the supplies in enviable quantities. His many connections outside of Northumbria also established ecclesiastical ties that the monastery could build upon over the next two generations. Without Biscop there would not have been a scholar of Bede’s quality in Britain because Bede’s skills were only honed with the library Biscop built.

So this is what I have been pondering this week. I hope to be able to blog on a more regular basis this fall on a variety of topics.

References:

The History of the Abbots of Wearmouth and Jarrow and the Anonymous History of Ceolfrith. in  The Age of Bede, trans. DH Farmer. Penguin Classics, 1998.

Ian Wood. “The foundation of Bede’s Wearmouth-Jarrow” in Cambridge Companion to Bede, Cambridge University Press, 2010.

What’s in a name?

After discussing the linguistic changes and yet continuity in Dalriada yesterday, lets look at the names for the Britons and Picts in the Early Historic Period. Fraser points out that the usual explanation that Pict means ‘painted people’ doesn’t really hold up historically or linguistically.

What do you call an inhabitant of Britain in the early Roman period?

• Prydyn (Brythonic)
• Cruithni (Old Irish)
• Britanni (Latin)

All three of these words denote a Briton. Fraser believes that terms for Britons and Picts were finalized after the Severen settlement in 211. He believes that only at this point when the Romans accepted their limits was there a need to differentiate civilized Britons from barbarian Britons. Fraser notes that both Old Welsh and Old Irish borrowed the Latin word Brittons for the inhabitants of the Roman province. He reminds us how proud Romano-Britons were of their Roman citizenship. For example, Patrick stresses that he and his accusers are fellow Romans. The spirit of fellow citizenship, initially Roman citizenship, is behind the term Cymry, which means fellow countrymen, in effect fellow citizens. We often like to think of the Romans as oppressing noble Britons who wanted their freedom, but there is certainly no evidence of this in late Romano-British written material. Quite the opposite, Roman citizenship is lauded and cherished. 400 years, twice as long as the United States has existed, is more than enough time for the Britons to embrace Romanitas.

This linguistic development seems to have rose in Roman Britain and doesn’t imply any unification among the Picts or even that the Picts initally accepted the term. (Pict seems to have developed out of Prydyn; Picti being the short form for Prydyn like Britto is the short form for Britanni) Fraser notes that it would have taken time for these terms to be universally accepted among the Romano-Britons, Barbarian Britons (Picts) and the Irish. We can see this in the Irish insistence to continue to call the Picts Cruithni, meaning Britons. The Irish just restricted their use of their ancestral term for Britain to the Picts and adopted the Latin name Britto/Britanni (Old Irish Breatain) for southerners.

I think this can also explain the fuzzy application of Briton and Pict in the northern frontier zone. We know archaeologically that ‘Pictish’ material culture is spread over what we usually consider an ethnic border. Pictish symbol stones and objects with Pictish symbols have been found south of the firths and probably shouldn’t be attributed to left-behind objects or carvings of Pictish raiders. How much were the Damnonii (Strathclyde) and Votadini (Gododdin) really different than that the Picts on the other side of the firth of Forth? Along this border was their language really that different? I doubt it.

Reference:

James Fraser. (2009) From Caledonia to Pictland: Scotland to 795. Edinburgh UP, p. 47-50.