After the Staffordshire field at Hammerwich had been ploughed again last month, archeologists examined it again and discovered a new wealth of artefacts of the Anglo-Saxon period. In July 2009 the same field yielded 3,900 items, which are known worldwide as the Staffordshire Hoard. This time the scale is smaller, but the surprising fact is that many new pieces fit with parts found earlier. It means that the hoard is essentially the same. Some parts had been buried at a deeper level and were not excavated in 2009. However, the official decision will be pronounced January, 4th by South Staffordshire Coroner Andrew Haigh who will rule if the new findings are part of the Staffordshire Hoard and should be declared treasure.
The 90 metalwork items include a helmet cheek piece, an eagle shaped mount, a gold and garnet cross, as well as a whole array of very small parts that weigh less than a gram. All of them are now examined and x-rayed.
The original Staffordshire Hoard is on display in Stoke-on-Trent and Birmingham. Its gold and silver artefacts are dated to the 7th and 8th centuries. It was discovered by Terry Herbert. The hoard is rather enigmatic in nature, because there is no grave or hut nearby. This might be war booty, since most of the items seem to be part of warrior equipment. Many of the objects were twisted.
Archeologists say they would like to go back in a couple of years and have a look at the Staffordshire field when it is ploughed again.

Photo: Staffordshire county council/PA

The Thames Scramasax is a blade that was recovered from the Thames River in England in 1857. It was discovered by a common laborer by the name of Henry Briggs, who in turn sold the find to the British Museum, where it is currently still on display. The single-edged blade is more commonly referred to as the Seax of Beagnoth. “Seax” is derived from the Old English word meaning “knife” and “Beagnoth” refers to either the knife’s owner or maker.
Here are 3 interesting things you should know about the discovery of the Thames Scramasax and its historical significance.

History

The single-edged knife has been dated to the 9th century, and as late as 900 AD. It’s a remarkably intact discovery that bears intricate inscriptions which allow historians to trace its origins and also garner some information on the rune, Old English language of the markings.
A 9th century seax was likely used either as a hunting knife, weapon or both. It is a long weapon with a single, sharpened edge that comes to a point. It is reminiscent of a flat-sided sword. The design and composition of the blade support the notion that it would have been made for someone of wealth and status, as it is intricately inlaid with copper, silver and brass.The wire inlaying technique required much skill from the artisan and can also be found on Viking swords from the same era.

Inscriptions

In addition to the name “Beagmoth”, the knife also displays the entire 28 character runic alphabet known as futhorc. Interestingly, the knife-maker who made the inscriptions must have omitted certain character of the alphabet and had to go back and insert it. The extra character, which appears squeezed between the others, may be an indication of how difficult the process of inscribing the blade was, or even that he was not that familiar with the language.
Inscribing the blades with runic phrases and characters is believed by scholars to be a technique that pre-dates the making of this weapon. The inscription intent was to assist in warding off evil spirits and provide the bearer with mythical protection. The fact that there were errors in the inscriptions might support this theory and signify that the person who commissioned the knife, was trying to create an artifact and highlight his status in society.

Historical Significance

The fact that the blade is intact and dates to the 9th century is, in itself, significant from a historical perspective. But when you consider that it also bears the entire rune alphabet, you see why this knife has been on display in the British Museum for over one hundred years. Its a remarkable treasure and important link to 9th century Old England.

Author Bio: Kathleen Hubert is a blogger who writes on a variety of different sites. Check out more of her work at Prefab Houses.

At some time early in the first century AD, the Greek geographer Strabo set out what he considered to be the main reason why the Romans had not pursued their initial interest in conquering Britain. The expeditions that Julius Caesar had launched in 55 and 54 BC were not followed up because: although the Romans could have held Britain, they have rejected the idea, seeing that there was nothing to fear from the Britons, since they are not powerful enough to cross over and attack us, nor was there much advantage to be gained if the Romans were to occupy it.
Eventually in 43 AD, the lame and unloved emperor Claudius, in an attempt to garner some military glory for himself, did decide that it was worth sending the legions to bring Pax Romana to this distinctly unpromising corner of the world. However, one always suspects that the Roman imperial authorities had significant reservations about their new acquisition.
When Greek and Roman writers bothered to mention Britain it was usually to pass comment on its geographical remoteness and the barbarity of its native inhabitants. Other northern frontier provinces would produce their quota of bright young things who blazed a trail in the rarefied stratosphere of the Roman court. However, these tales of success stand in stark contrast to the deafening silence that surrounds the achievements of the Romano-British elite on the wider imperial stage.
This ancient ambivalence is in marked contrast to the enthusiasm of 19th- and 20th-century writers and scholars for whom the history of Roman Britain has mattered a great deal. In an age of empire when Britannia really did rule the waves, comparisons with Rome were just too tempting to resist. Thus, the concept of Romanisation, the process through which Britain and its inhabitants became Roman, came into being. The introduction of towns, villas, baths, classical education and law to a land which supposedly had previously possessed none of these things could be comfortably equated with the civilizing mission that cohorts of British colonial administrators were engaged in around the globe.
Yet it soon became clear to the more reflective members of the British establishment that such comparisons threw up as many awkward questions as they provided neat analogies. Imperial aspirations jarred against the history of the nation. If the British were the Romans then who were the ancient Britons? Were Boudicca and Caractacus national heroes battling to preserve the independence of the island or savages who needed to be brought under the rule of civilized law?
Debates over the validity of ‘Romanisation’ as an organizing idea have dominated the study of Roman Britain ever since. Everybody accepts that Britain did change under Roman rule but there has been little agreement as to what form it took and of its impact beyond the narrow confines of the Romano-British elite. Most importantly the term ‘Romanisation’ incorrectly presupposes the existence of a single ‘Roman’ identity.
This was a valid and important discussion to have but this protracted debate over the wrongs and rights of Romanisation has driven the potentially fascinating study of Roman Britain down a tedious and over-rehearsed cul-de-sac. But we should look beyond that. If we discard Romanisation as an organizing principle and replace it with a much more nuanced model that takes account of the often very different agendas of the military, urban and rural communities, we create a more complex but also far more interesting vision of Roman Britain. By concentrating on Britain’s essential regionalism, we are able convincingly to set out the multitude of ‘discrepant experiences’ which make up the Roman past.
The paucity of literary texts means that, aside from Boudicca and the revolts, Roman Britain lacks the exciting stories which are often the bread and butter of popular history. The extraordinary amount of fiction set in Roman Britain - Beric the Briton, Puck of Pook Hill, Eagle of the Ninth and The Emperor’s Babe, to name but a few – perhaps reflects our yearning to fill in these narrative gaps for ourselves. Archaeology remains our best chance of recovering more of Roman Britain but it makes for a very different sort of history, one of qualified hypothesis and unglamorous statistics.
Popular treatments of Roman Britain both in print and on television have often quickly descended into the kind of banal exposition of ‘everyday life’ which teaches one only that the past could be every bit as dull as the present.

Author Bio: Donna Saddler is a passionate writer about medieval life. Donna also wrote on English Castles.

Photo: Roman baths in Somerset, by bortescristian. Used under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Licence.

Last July the Yorkshire Museum raised £35,000 to purchase a unique Anglo-Saxon gold and sapphire finger ring. It had been found in April 2009 by a metal detectorist Michael Greenhorn, a railway technician who is also member of the York and District Metal Detecting Club. The find was reported to the Portable Antiquities Scheme and declared treasure.
Sapphires were associated with high status like royalty, upper nobility or bishops. The find is so rare that there is literally nothing to compare it with, so that dating of the ring represents some difficulty. The gold beading is characteristic for the Viking period but red and blue glass set in gold is found in earlier Anglian jewelry. It is possible that at some stage sapphire was used to replace blue glass to create a unique and expensive ring for the archbishop of York, one of the earls of Northumbria or even a king. The museum launched an investigation to find stylistic parallels in other pieces of Anglo-Saxon jewelry and narrow down the age range. No less interesting is the geological origin of the sapphire itself. It may have come from India or Sri Lanka.
The only other sapphire found in a jewel of the Anglo-Saxon period is the coronation ring of Edward the Confessor. The gemstone from this ring is now part of the Imperial State Crown of Great Britain, at the center of the cross on top of the crown.
The gold used for the ring is of a very high standard. It is an alloy of 90% gold, 8% silver and 2% copper. It weighs 10.2 grams.
Hopefully, the Yorkshire Museum will reveal more concerning this rare find in the near future.

Photo: © independent.co.uk

Bamburgh sword is a rare Anglo-Saxon sword from the seventh century. It once belonged to an Anglo-Saxon king or a member of a royal family. The sword was made up of six individual strands of iron: this technique is known as pattern welding, Babmburgh sword thus being a six pattern-welded sword. Cold weapons of such structure are also called ‘snake patterned’ because of the herring bone appearance created by the forged strands. Six strands or layers of carbon steel forged together made it a perfect weapon: in comparison, Sutton Hoo sword had only four layers. Bamburgh sword is the only one of its kind ever found.
The recovery of the sword is rather peculiar. It was dug out during the first excavation at Bamburgh castle, Northumberland, in 1960. After that it was forgotten in the attic of the broadcaster and archeologist Brian Hope-Taylor who took part in the excavations. After his death in 2001, some of his former PhD students came to his house hearing that his books were being sold off. The sword was going to be dumped in a skip by workers who were clearing the house. It was returned to Bamburgh Castle in 2005, where Paul Gething and Graeme Young were working on the Bamburgh Research Project. It is then that the rare nature of the artifact became known. The sword was sent to the Royal Armouries for further examination.
Discovering such a sword is a unique chance for an archeologist. More excavations at the Bamburgh castle may reveal more details as for this exceptional weapon.

Photo: Bamburgh sword

Sutton Hoo and especially the early medieval helmet discovered there is now the icon of Suffolk. The emblem of the Sutton Hoo helmet will be used in publicity material to highlight what the county is all about. This happened as a result of a poll that had to identify the icon of Suffolk.
The poll was initiated last summer by Choose Suffolk, the body promoting the county as a great place to live and to visit. The Icons Project was inspired by the Cultural Olympiad, which includes a wide range of cultural events anticipating the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games.
To determine the icon of Suffolk, a site was created, where visitors could download pictures and videos of places, scenes, statues, buildings and other things that represent Suffolk for them. The picture of Dani Filth, a death metal singer from Cradle of Filth was downloaded too. To surprise many, it received a huge amount of votes from Dani’s fans.
Sutton Hoo, however, was chosen by the people of Suffolk as the top icon. Brigit Parker from Choose Suffolk, said: “It’s a symbol of national historic importance. If you see that image, the world over, it undoubtedly is something you’d link back to Suffolk. It’s distinctive and representative – something that sends a powerful message.” Suffolk Icons has been awarded a London 2012 Inspire Mark, which recognises outstanding projects that help creating a legacy that will last beyond 2012 Olympic Games.
To be sure, this will help to promote the image of the Anglo-Saxon helmet from Sutton Hoo as a recognizable symbol not only in Suffolk but all over the world.

Photo: Sutton Hoo helmet. Courtesy pettifoggist. Used under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic Licence.

In 2008 archeologists excavated an Anglo-Saxon burial ground with 229 graves at The Meads, Sittingbourne. More than 2,500 objects were discovered, including weapons from male burials and beads from female ones. It is a circular silver, bronze and wooden disk with seven holes in it: one in the centre and two groups by three holes positioned according two triangular patterns. In the same grave two shields and two spears were found. Burying two items with someone seems to be unusual practice, which may point to a high status of the grave. Finds manager of the Canterbury Archaeological Trust Andrew Richardson confessed: “We don’t currently recognise it, but it may be a decorative mount on something, but we don’t know what it’s mounted on.” The object was X-rayed, but to no avail. It is reported to be found near a sword, but this does not necessarily mean the two are associated with each other. What might have been the use and the purpose of the disk? Archeologists cannot solve this riddle, since no parallel is known. It is also possible that this is a one-off item, which will never be identified. Æscwine (aka John Wills) from Ða Engliscan Gesiðas (The English Companions) discussion group forum suggested the following solution: the disk could be a part of a belt pouch. The pouch was similar to the Sutton Hoo purse, with a “hard lid” and a soft bag behind. If the lid was made of a thin sheet of wood, covered with leather, the4 disk could be fitted to the front of the lid. The three holes might have thongs woven through them. Coming out through the centre hole, they served as a fastener. Three other holes were for the rivets fastening the disk to the lid.
What do you think about it? Help identify the mysterious Anglo-Saxon object from The Meads Anglo-Saxon grave or work out its function!

Photo: The Meads disk.

The archeological site at the Gaer Farm (close to Offa’s Dyke at Forden, near Welshpool) was identified back in 1985. Preliminary excavations and aerial photographs revealed a post-Roman settlement, but a proper investigation did not take place until August 2010, when a team from Cambrian Archaeological Projects started an excavation on what seems to be a fifth-century Saxon palace. Both the strategic border location and the magnitude of the building, which is 40m long and 15m wide, point to the fact that this had been a royal residence.Project leader Mark Houliston said it was difficult to date the site, but there are reasons to believe that it is from the Anglo-Saxon period. CAP director Kevin Blockley said that this Saxon timber long house could be a palace of the prince of Wales, a local king or a bishop. He also commented: “We know that West Mercia invaded this part of Wales in 823AD and took over a large area until 863AD. But we plan to carbon-date the charcoal at the site to find out the exact date of the building.” The palace might have looked like a very large barn with a hearth in the centre. Its walls were covered with wattle and daub, the roof was thatched. Palaces of similar style and shape are known in Cheddar in Somerset, Northumberland and at Northampton, but the only other Saxon site in Wales is a burgh at Rhuddlan. This discovery is said to be of national importance.

Photo: aerial view of Gaer Farm archeological site.

In the summer of 2010 at Ludham, near Great Yarmouth on the River Ant between Horning Hall and Browns Hill workmen unearthed a log boat during flood defence work. The boat made from a solid piece of oak was 2.2 m down in the silt clay. As it was damaged by the digger, the work was stopped so that archeologists could examine it. Radiocarbon dates, which were announced in November 2010, showed that the layer below the boat is from AD 650 to AD 780, and the layer above the boat is from AD 890 to AD 1020 (dendrochronological data that can give a more accurate estimation are not available as yet). Thus the boat dates from the Anglo-Saxon period. Near the boat that could carry up to three people five horse and sheep skulls were found, which may point to the fact that the vessel might have been used in some sort of a ritual. The boat was transported to York in order to undergo special treatment to preserve it. Hopefully, the two pieces of this exceptional find can be fitted together so that the Anglo-Saxon boat might become a central exhibit at Norwich Castle Museum. To find an ancient boat in such a preserved state is a rare chance. To be sure, it will help us to learn more about everyday life during the Anglo-Saxon period.

Photo: River Ant boat. By Nigel Pope. Used with permission.

The first armed conflict of Hengest and Horsa with Vortigern took place in 455. About the same time Horsa was killed in battle, while Hengest carried war on the Britons. By 473 he founded the first Anglo-Saxon kingdom, the kingdom of Kent. His successors were Esc, Octa and Eormenric of Kent (relationships in this line of kings and exact dates of their rule are not clear).
The next stage of the conquest was led by the Saxon war-lord Ælle, who landed with his three sons on the Sussex shore in 477. In 491 he besieged and took the shore fort Anderida. Bede mentions Ælle as the king over all the provinces south of the river Humber. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle lists Ælle as the first of the eight bretawaldas (a term that designated “rulers of Britain”), which may indicate that the king of the South Saxons was recognized as the ruler by other Anglo-Saxon leaders.
Wessex was founded in 495 by Cerdic, who landed in Hampshire “in three keels”. The Chronicle also attributes to Cerdic the conquest of the Isle of Wight, which was later given to West Saxons Stuf and Wihtgar. Cerdic was succeeded by his son Cynric.
During the first half of the 6th century Anglo-Saxons extended their lands westward and northward, but their efforts did not prove very successful, despite the arrival of new Anglo-Saxon armies from the continent. Between 490 and 517 Anglo-Saxons were defeated by the Britons at the Battle of Mount Badon. The Celts were able to unite against them and delay the advance of invaders for some time.
The onslaught of the Anglo-Saxons was recommenced in the second half of the 6th century. In 571 and 577 three kings of Britons were killed, Gloucester, Cirencester and Bath were captured. During 584–592 the Celts were completely defeated in Wiltshire. By the beginning of the 7th century Anglo-Saxon conquest of the south-western and central parts of Britain was accomplished.
At least twelve early Anglo-Saxon kingdoms existed at the period. On the eastern coast there lay the kingdom of Lindsey, comprising the lands between the Humber and the Wash; the kingdom of the East Angles, which consisted of Norfolk and Suffolk; the kingdom of Essex and the kingdom of Kent. The kingdom of Sussex was on the southern coast. Northern part of the central England was divided between Mercia and Middle Anglia. To the south, along the border with Wales, two small kingdoms were situated: Magonsætan and Hwicce. The largest early Anglo-Saxon kingdom was Wessex, the kingdom of the West Saxons. Northern territories were later known as Northumberland or lands to the north of the Humber. At times Northumberland was divided into Bernicia and Deira.
These kingdoms, once created, waged war against each other until the first half of the 9th century. This period of the Anglo-Saxon history is known as the Age of Heptarchy.