In this area we present our blog posts on a variety of Viking subjects from a variety of authors. Please scroll down or use the filter to look at specific subjects…
Explore our blog posts...
Viking Art Styles in the East Midlands: Borre
Traders, raiders, and artists? When Vikings are conjured in the popular imagination they clasp swords rather than chisels, but many of the Viking Age objects found in the East Midlands demonstrate intricate craftsmanship that still survives after a thousand years. replica watches UK Scandinavian art styles evolved throughout the Viking Age (c. 800-1100 AD) and are today classified into a loose chronology: Borre, Jelling, Mammen, Ringerike, and Urnes. These styles often overlap stylistically and chronologically, but there are enough distinctive features and recurring motifs to separate objects in various media into these identifiable styles. replica omega watches These art styles further developed in the British Isles with some objects retaining pure 'Viking' ornament or featuring a hybrid Insular style that slightly modifies Scandinavian features to fit a new social and artistic context. This blog series will briefly explore the characteristics of the Scandinavian art styles appearing in the East Midlands through the objects themselves.panerai replica watches The Borre Style One of the earliest Viking art styles, the Borre style, was prevalent in Scandinavia from the the late ninth to the late tenth century. The style derives its name from group of bronze harness mounts discovered in a ship grave from Borre, Vestfold, Norway. The style is characterised by a range of geometric and zoomorphic motifs and the occasional gripping beast. The Borre Style in the East Midlands The Borre style came to England with the Scandinavian settlers from the late ninth century. The style proved to be popular amongst insular artists and appears on several forms of media such as stone sculpture and metal brooches throughout the British Isles. One object in the East Midlands that exemplifies the Borre style is a gilded, copper alloy equal armed-brooch fragment found in Harworth Bircotes, Nottinghamshire. There is a diagnostic Borre style beast with gripping arms and legs that has parallels with a find in Birka, Sweden. However, the gripping beast motif in England is quite rare as this brooch fragment is one of only six Scandinavian, Viking period equal-armed brooches recorded in England. Another copper alloy, gilded disc brooch in the Borre style found in Cossington, Leicestershire was probably brought to England from Denmark. The interweaving tendrils on this disc are characteristic of the Borre style and recall interlacing loops formed from gripping beasts. Scandinavian brooches tended to be domed with a hollow back compared to the English counterparts which were flat at the time. The Borre style is not restricted to brooches in the East Midlands, it is also found on other objects such as this copper-alloy strap-end found in Brookenby, Nottinghamshire. The style is also found on a few buckles in the East Midlands including the copper-alloy belt fragment pictured below which is thought to be from a flat buckle. The object was found near Coddington, Nottinghamshire, and has few comparable examples. Another copper-alloy buckle was found near Earl Shilton, Leistershire. This buckle consists of an oval loop with a circular cross section and has an elongated triangular pin rest in the form of an animal head. The animal head has a pointed snout, rounded head with rounded upwards pointing ears which merge into the buckle loop. All of these artefacts display the variety of isomorphic and geometric designs found within the Borre style and how this style was used to decorate different kinds of objects. The Ring Chain An instantly recognisable motif of the Borre style is the symmetrical, double contoured ring-chain. 'This composition consists of a chain of interlacing circles, divided by transverse bars and overlaid by lozenges' (Kershaw 2010, 2). Occasionally, the ring-chain terminates in an animal. The ring-chain appears in a modified 'vertebral' variant on stone sculptures in the British Isles where 'a rib of truncated triangles' is 'flanked by side loops' (Kershaw 2010, 2). The best-known example of the vertebral ring-chain is on the Gosforth Cross in Cumbria, but it is also found in the Isle of Man, Yorkshire, and even the East Midlands, engraved on a stone from St. Mary's Church in Bakewell, Derbyshire. References: Kershaw, Jane 2010. 'Viking-Age Scandinavian art styles and their appearance in the British Isles Part 1: Early Viking-Age art styles', Finds Research Group Datasheet 42, pp. 1-7
Read More
The Rich and the Brave: Burials, Weapons, and Warriors
The common association of highly furnished weapon burials containing a male skeleton with warriors is still a highly debated topic and one that has a profound impact on how we view Vikings. Much scholarly ink has been spilled discussing theories surrounding motivations behind grave good deposition and the relation between weapon burials and the deceased in Scandinavia, Britain, and with varying degrees of success. Choosing which theory to apply to a situation is complicated by a variety of factors not least of which is that historical, geographical and chronological context changes how one interprets a ritual depending on the time and place it was practised. Furthermore, there is usually no knowledge of who selected the objects to be deposited and thus no concrete idea why they did so. According to Heinrich Härke, textual sources are the best means with which to attempt to determine motivations but are rarely present for the space and time under review (Härke 2014, 53–54). While weapons are highly-visible in archaeological contexts, their use in burials only represents a small segment of the population within a social context that had many different high-status burial practices (Harrison 2015, 314). Secondly, poorly furnished burials are understudied with no definitive comments made about them (Harrison 2015, 314–15; 2008, 166–90). In addition, the relationship between perceived and actual status and the fact that no artefact has a fixed value or meaning but rather its meaning is imposed both complicate the issue further (Harrison 2015, 304). The perceived importance of an individual is heavily influenced by local burial tradition. For example, at Kilmainham/Islandbridge a large number of weapon burials with high-quality swords were discovered which reflects the importance of Dublin between the ninth and tenth centuries while the number of graves containing these high-quality swords may reflect the role competitive display played within Dublin society (Harrison 2015, 304; Harrison and Ó Floinn 2014, 75–93). However, the situation in the former Danelaw is very much the opposite with a general paucity of weapon burials east of the Pennines (Harrison 2015, 304; Graham-Campbell 1980, 379; Richards 2000, 142). Harrison argues that this may be a reflection of the higher value placed on weapons in the Danelaw than in Dublin or elsewhere along the western seaboard (Harrison 2015, 304). One last point to consider when examining burials and grave goods is that the choice of grave goods can reflect how the deceased or those burying them wished their identity to be portrayed can equally affect weapon burials. Moreover, grave goods can underline the hybridity of an individual’s identity. For example, the shield bosses of Kilmainham/Islandbridge combine elements of both Irish small bosses and Anglo-Saxon conical bosses to create a fusion shield boss type only found near Dublin reflecting the distinct local identity of its elites (Harrison 2015, 309; Harrison and Ó Floinn 2014, 122–25; Bøe 1940, 33, 38). So how can weapons in burials be used to potentially identify whether or not individuals were involved in military activities? In simple terms, there is no definitive way of correlating the two but by studying the graves within their historical and geographical context, it may be possible to make a case. One strong indicator that an individual may have been involved in military activities are any signs of trauma on the skeletons, such as those found at Repton, alongside the inclusion of weapons as grave-goods. References: Bøe, Johs. 1940. Viking Antiquities in Great Britain and Ireland, Part 3: Norse Antiquities in Ireland. Edited by Haakon Shetelig. Oslo: H. Aschehoug. Graham-Campbell, James. 1980. ‘The Scandinavian Viking-Age Burials of England: Some Problems of Interpretation’. In Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries, edited by Phillip Rahtz, Lorna Watts, and Tania Dickinson, 379–82. British Archaeological Reports British Series 82. Oxford: Archaeopress. Härke, Heinrich. 2014. ‘Grave Goods in Early Medieval Burials: Messages and Meanings’. Morality 19 (1): 41–60. Harrison, Stephen. 2008. ‘Furnished Insular Scandinavian Burial: Artefacts & Landscape in the Early Viking Age’. Dublin: Trinity College Dublin. Harrison, Stephen. 2015. ‘“Warrior Graves”? The Weapon Burial Rite in Viking Age Britain and Ireland’. In Maritime Societies of the Viking and Medieval World, edited by James Barrett and Sarah Gibbon, 299–319. Society for Medieval Archaeology. Leeds: Maney Publishing. Harrison, Stephen, and Raghnall Ó Floinn. 2014. Viking Graves and Grave-Goods in Ireland. Dublin: National Museum of Ireland. Richards, Julian. 2000. Viking Age England. Stroud: Tempus.
Read More
Winter Camps in the East Midlands: Commerce and Industry
Viking winter camps were more than just bases for the Great Army to live in during the winter or centres from which armed Viking bands could conduct military activities. From their inception winter camps established and maintained economic functions whether as centres for trade or industry. Both Repton and Torksey were placed in a location that allowed them to take advantage of the River Trent as a means of transportation of people and goods. Repton’s evidence for trading activities is not as abundant at Torksey but finds of lead weights as well as Anglo-Saxon and Frankish coins point towards commercial activities. Evidence of industrial activities at the site includes several ship nails, include slag, woodworking tools, the tip of a Viking axe head, an area for metal working, and another area with signs of butchering of animals (Jarman 2018a, 33–34; 2018b, 20–21; Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle 2001, 72). The nails and, perhaps, the woodworking tools could be taken as evidence for ship repair. It is also to keep in mind that the nature of extended occupation, the likelihood of camp followers, especially women, as well as the need for animals and supplies further evidences non-military activities and a larger occupation area than the fortified enclosure (Raffield 2016, 15, 21). Archaeological excavations of Torksey have uncovered quite a few pieces of bullion, including hacksilver and jewellery (Raffield 2016, 313, 319; Hadley and Richards 2016, 27; Blackburn, Williams, and Graham-Campbell 2007, 71–72; Williams 2007, 183; McLeod 2014, 122–23). The relatively high concentration of gold at Torksey suggests that it was being used in transactions and not just as a status symbol which may explain the presence of hack-gold, ingots, and gold plated copper coins (Hadley and Richards 2016, 47; Blackburn, Williams, and Graham-Campbell 2007, 75–77; Blackburn 2011, 233–34). A large abundance of lead weights were also found, which are associated with merchants, with 15 resembling Scandinavian/Islamic weights from Sweden (Hadley and Richards 2016, 48; McLeod 2014, 159). Over 350 coins were also found on the site including English silver pennies, stycas from Northumbria, an imitation Frankish solidi of Louis the Pious, and 124 Arab dirhams (Hadley and Richards 2016, 43; Blackburn 2011, 225). The Arabic coins further prove just how connected the site would have been to the wider Scandinavian trade network even during the army’s years of campaigning. A variety of overwintering activities would have occurred at Torksey. Alongside iron clench nails, a hoard of iron woodworking nails have been discovered making it likely that Torksey would have been ideal for the repair of ships (Hadley and Richards 2016, 53–54). Additionally, worn and damaged tools were located alongside fragments of iron vessels seemingly ready to be reworked (Hadley and Richards 2016, 53). Furthermore, the discovery of spindle whorls, needles, punches and awls suggest textile-working, a job generally undertaken by women and thus providing potential evidence for a female presence at the camp (Hadley and Richards 2016, 54). These finds also suggest that overwintering activities such as the repair of sails, tents and clothing took place. Along with trading goods plundered from their campaigns, the Great Army also employed craftsmen to manufacture pottery as a tradable commodity. Evidence of pottery production at Torksey was first ascertained by excavations south of the modern village in 1949 (Perry 2016, 74). The spread of so-called ‘Torksey ware’ was vast and it even became the major pottery type at York to the point where archaeologists first assumed that it was locally made (Perry 2016, 76). Biddle, Martin, and Birthe Kjølbye-Biddle. ‘Repton and the “Great Heathen Army”, 873–4’. In Vikings and the Danelaw: Select Papers from the Proceedings of the Thirteenth Viking Congress, edited by James Graham-Campbell, Richard Hall, Judith Jesch, and David Parsons, 45–96. (Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2001). Graham-Campbell, James, and Gareth Williams. Silver economy in the Viking Age. (Walnut Creek, California: Left Coast Press, 2007). Hadley, Dawn M., and Julian D. Richards. "The winter camp of the Viking Great Army, AD 872–3, Torksey, Lincolnshire." The Antiquaries Journal 96 (2016): 23-67. Jarman, C. "Resolving Repton: has archaeology found the great Viking camp." British Archaeology (2018): 28-35. Jarman, Catrine L., Martin Biddle, Tom Higham, and Christopher Bronk Ramsey. "The Viking Great Army in England: new dates from the Repton charnel." antiquity 92, no. 361 (2018): 183-199. McLeod, Shane. The Beginning of Scandinavian Settlement in England The Viking'Great Army'and Early Settlers, c. 865-900. (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014). Perry, Gareth J. "Pottery production in Anglo-Scandinavian Torksey (Lincolnshire): reconstructing and contextualising the chaîne opératoire." Medieval Archaeology 60, no. 1 (2016): 72-114. Raffield, Ben. "Bands of brothers: A re‐appraisal of the Viking Great Army and its implications for the Scandinavian colonization of England." Early Medieval Europe 24, no. 3 (2016): 308-337.
Read More
Winter Camps in the East Midlands: Location and Layout
Our knowledge of the Viking Great Army's movments during its campaigns in England is provided by entries in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, a compilation of annalistic entries that describe events in a particular year. Despite some drawbacks to using the chronicle as a source, it does provide a roadmap for where the Vikings stopped for the winter. In fact, these were termed wintersetl by the compilers of the chronicle otherwise known as winter camps. Two of the winter camps mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle are under current investigation, Repton and Torksey. Both winter camps are located along a river which would have provided the Viking inhabitants with vital transportation links required in most raiding or trading activities. It would also seem likely that the waterways were selected in order to provide a natural defensive element to the settlement, usually alongside another natural feature such as a raised promontory or a marsh, or an easy means of escape if the settlement was overwhelmed. In addition, the winter camps seem to be placed in relation to recently captured territory which makes sense for force out on campaign. Viking invaders took Repton and immediately constructed a D-shaped wall using the pre-existing church as a gatehouse. The remnants of this wall were discovered in the 1970s and 1980s in the form of a V-shaped ditch, calculated to have been about 8m wide and 4m deep, cutting through the earlier Anglo-Saxon monastic burials (Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle 2001, 57, 59; Jarman 2018a, 29). The 1979 excavations revealed four successive ditches; the V-shaped ditch with a flat narrow bottom was the earliest and was backfilled shortly after being dug (Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle 2001, 58). The ditches have been dated to between the Group 2 Middle Anglo-Saxon and Group 3 Post-Viking burials, which fits with late ninth-century ‘Great Army’ occupation (Biddle and Kjølbye-Biddle 2001, 59). Unlike Repton, in Torksey Vikings only utilized natural defences, such as the river Trent and the wet marshy ground, which turned the settlement into an island (Hadley and Richards 2016, 32; Raffield 2016, 313). Despite not having any walls or ditches, it is likely that the ‘Great Army’ would have found the water and marsh defence sufficient in light of their recent peace with Mercia (Raffield 2016, 323). In terms of buildings there is a general lack of evidence for permanent structures at both Torksey and Repton. It is unclear whether this is due to poor preservation, need for more archaeological investigation, or that they truly did not exist. The use of Repton, Torksey, and the other wintersetl as army bases during campaigning probably explains the lack of permanent dwellings and workshops from their foundation but does not explain why none were built throughout the rest of their occupation when the army left. The lack of urban planning and systems of streets and plots likely has to do with either a lack of refinement in terms of the methodology and ideas behind settlement foundation which requires more experience over time, the motivations and needs surrounding the foundation of a settlement, or even a combination of both. As mentioned above, the wintersetl in England were created, primarily, to house a military force on campaign, which moved on very quickly after the settlement was established. Therefore, it would not make sense to spend time and resources developing a systematic layout nor to begin the time-consuming process of building permanent structures. References: Biddle, Martin, and Birthe Kjølbye-Biddle. 2001. ‘Repton and the “Great Heathen Army”, 873–4’. In Vikings and the Danelaw: Select Papers from the Proceedings of the Thirteenth Viking Congress, edited by James Graham-Campbell, Richard Hall, Judith Jesch, and David Parsons, 45–96. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Hadley, Dawn, and Julian Richards. 2016. ‘The Viking Winter Camp and Anglo-Scandinavian Town at Torksey, Lincolnshire – the Landscape Context’. The Antiquaries Journal, no. 96: 23–67. Raffield, Ben. 2016. ‘Bands of Brothers: A Re-Appraisal of the Viking Great Army and Its Implications for the Scandinavian Colonization of England’. Early Medieval Europe 24 (3): 308–37.
Read More
Brooches, Pendants and Pins: Scandinavian Dress Accessories in England
Nowadays it is common to see people wearing various accoutrements such as earrings, necklaces, pendants, or rings. The Viking Age was no different and Scandinavian fashion, both female and male, commonly featured the use of dress accessories which served a practical purpose of fastening clothing but also as a way to display wealth and status. Below is a brief discussion on the use and place of Scandinavian brooches, pendants and pins in England. Brooches were a typical part of female dress. Scandinavian brooches came in a variety of sizes and shapes which included disc, trefoil, lozenge, equal-armed, and oval shapes. The different brooch types served a variety of functions in Scandinavian female dress with oval brooches typically being used as shoulder clasps for apron-type dresses and the rest being used to secure an outer garment to an inner shift. Anglo-Saxon brooches do not match this diversity of form with large disc brooches being typical of ninth-century dress styles with smaller ones becoming more popular in the later ninth and tenth centuries. However, since disc brooches were used by both Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian women they are distinguished by their morphology. Scandinavian brooches were typically domed with a hollow back while Anglo-Saxon brooches were usually flat. Moreover, Anglo-Saxon brooches were worn singly without accompanying accessories. With some exceptions, pendants were generally worn by women as an accessory to Scandinavian dress. Pendants were a popular dress accessory in Norway and Sweden and sometimes were worn with beads between a pair of oval brooches. However, in England, pendants did not have the same popularity among Anglo-Saxon inhabitants. An unique style of pendant the existence of which was likely influenced by crucifixes worn by Christian individuals was the Thor’s Hammer pendant. These may have been worn to show devotion to the god Thor, or to secure the god’s protection, although there is little evidence to support this interpretation. Pendants like this have been found made of lead, copper alloy, silver and gold, showing that many different strata of society could have worn them. Pins were another form of popular dress accessory, though tending to be more practical , and mostly used for fastening cloaks. Once such pin, the ringed pin, was a form of dress fastener which developed as a result of contact between artisans in the Celtic West and sub-Roman Britain. The type became very popular in Ireland, being ultimately adopted by the Hiberno-Norse during the Viking period. In form it comprised a pin with a ring inserted through a looped, perforated or pierced head. Another style of pin has a solid head, round or cuboid, with ring-and-dot pattern ornamentation. These were common in Ireland and the western British Isles, and spread further afield under Viking influence. Kershaw, Jane F. Viking Identities: Scandinavian jewellery in England. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), p. 20-25
Read More
The Culinary Habits of Viking Age England
Though today we are well aware that food can be a luxury, a treat, a lifestyle, even a touchstone for memory, archaeologists looking at past diets have often seen everyday food in largely nutritional terms (in contrast to the focus given to the food of ritual, feasting, and assembly). Our experience in the contemporary world, together with information from historical and ethnographic account, tells us that food is central to the production of identity, having symbolic qualities, and often acting as a kind of social glue. In contexts of social change - such as urbanisation, religious conversion, migration and culture contact - we might expect it to play a particularly important role. The Viking Age, then, looks like a particularly promising context for a study of such phenomena. How did cooking and eating work to bring together the household? What were its social qualities in contexts of feasting and exchange? Perhaps most interestingly of all, what was the role of cuisine in the context of diaspora? What might the stubbornness or mutability of ethnically derived habits of cooking and eating tell us about relationships between natives and newcomers, or between migrants and their homelands? Such questions have proven difficult to answer using traditional archaeological approaches. The study of animal bones can tell us which animals were being eaten, how they were husbanded, butchered, and provisioned, but generally fall short of revealing much about the fine detail of food preparation or consumption. Fruits, vegetables, grain, nuts, seeds and spices are recovered from archaeological sites where preservation conditions allow, but their relationship with animal products is unclear. The sequences excavated in medieval towns rarely provide us with the undisturbed 'culinary contexts' that would allow us to reconstruct an individual meal. These environmental data thus provide us with information that is fundamental to answering the kinds of questions we are interested in, but are insufficient in isolation. We need a more high-resolution, interdisciplinary approach, that draws not only on this information, but also on inference drawn from a range of documentary sources, and from new insights that might be delivered through natural scientific approaches. In particular, there is considerable potential to explore the relationship between food and the material culture used to store, prepare, and present it, and how these phenomena varied in time and space. This is the task of Melting Pot: Food and Identity in the Age of Vikings. This AHRC-funded project has applied leading-edge scientific techniques to characterise the mode of use of different forms of pottery (patterns of sooting and burning can tell us about styles of cooking), and to analyse the contents of the pots (microscopic examination of burnt-on food crusts can reveal the presence of plant remains, fish scales and the like, while chemical analysis of the fabric of a pot can help us to identify the presence of now invisible fats, oils and waxes). Together, we are able to build something like a biography of a pot: what use was it intended for, how did it sit in the hearth, what was cooked in it, and how? We have undertaken the largest scientific survey of Viking-Age pottery to date; by analysing hundreds of identifiable sherds from well-dated contexts across England, we will be able to paint a picture of how the people of Viking-Age England were preparing and eating their food. How different were cooking habits in the commercial centres of towns like York from what we see on their peripheries? How does this urban picture compare with the situation in the rural hinterlands? To what degree is there a common urban diet in the towns of the Danelaw? How much does this differ from what we see in Saxon London? Is there evidence of change over time, and can these be related to patterns of migration, local politics, long-range economics, or urban development? How does the situation in England differ from what we see from contemporary sites across Scandinavia? Our lab work is complete, and we are now starting to find answers to these questions. A key element of the project is communicating its findings and significance with a range of audiences, and with this in mind, we have put together two exhibitions. The first, undertaken in collaboration with the York Archaeological Trust and A-level students from York College, is based on experimental cooking and biomolecular analyses undertaken by the students, opened at DIG, York on 1st February. The aim is to showcase the potential of science to answer archaeological questions. Later this month will see the launch of a parallel exhibit at The Collection, Lincoln, which will introduce the public to material from excavations in the city that has rarely been displayed, and discuss what these artefacts and ecofacts can tell us about Viking-Age cuisine. We have talks and workshops planned at both venues, starting with sessions at York's Viking Festival. In addition, we have put together a range of teaching resources for Key Stage 2 History, which we will soon be releasing. For more details on these, and all other aspects of the project, please visit our website: www.meltingpot.site, or follow us on Twitter: @foodAD1000.
Read More
Unlocking the Meaning of Keys in the Viking Age
Most keys that have been found are from graves, and were deliberately buried with individuals. The fact that only some people were buried with keys shows that keys had both practical and symbolic functions in the Viking Age. The practical function of keys was to lock locks, as is to be expected. They secured items against access or theft, and their presence indicates that the owner of the key actually had valuables worth locking up. Viking Age keys, padlocks and locks have all been found by archaeologists. The locks and padlocks probably belonged to chests and were used to secure a person’s most important belongings. Chests were used as storage at home and as travelling luggage by sailors going abroad. The chest provided a secure place to keep personal belongings, and was also used as a seat for the rowers. Keys could be decorated, like one from Gjerdal in Norway, which had been decorated with stylized animal heads and geometric ornamentation that dates it to the Viking Age. Keys are found as a part of burial paraphernalia in Scandinavia from the Migration Period through the Viking Age, and were usually made of iron or copper alloy. Although often viewed as primarily grave goods, in reality they have also been found on settlement sites throughout Scandinavia, and as single finds. Received wisdom states that they are most commonly found in women’s graves, and occasionally in men’s graves. However, they are not a common find overall. Only a small number of keys have been found compared to the large number of excavations undertaken. Most importantly, this applies to graves, where Berg (2015, 130) notes that of 6000-8000 graves excavated in south-east Norway only 117 contained keys. She also shows that keys are not a predominantly female accessory, as is usually stated. The Museum of Cultural History in Oslo notes that approximately 75 copper alloy keys and 170 iron keys of Viking Age date have been found in south-east Norway alone. The copper alloy keys are all different, showing that they were not mass-produced, but rather cast individually. Moulds for keys and smiths’ tools have been found during the excavations at Kaupang in Norway, providing the key to understanding how keys were made. Keys had symbolic value which has most often been taken to indicate the social function of the bearer. As items that provided access and closed it off, they indicated that the bearer had these powers too. This symbolic value has been most associated with women, largely because medieval law codes such as Borgartingslova (the Borgarthing Law) which dates from the twelfth or thirteenth century, identify keys 'as a signifier for the key-bearer, sometimes described as a woman or housewife' (Berg. 2015, 127). In the Eddic poem Þrymskviða Thor must dress up as Freyja. Part of his disguise is a set of keys hanging from his belt leading to the suggestion that Freyja may have been particularly associated with keys as a symbol of her domain. This image of powerful women controlling access to the house has led to an enduring image of the Viking Age matriarch wearing keys on her belt or hanging from a brooch to show that she was the gatekeeper in the household. However, this raises the question of what keys are doing in men’s graves, as in the case of Grave 541 at Repton, Derbyshire. Norse laws from the medieval period demonstrate that keys symbolised control over the household, a female area of power, and reinforce this idea. Given that keys symbolized power, ownership and control of access, it is likely that keys in men’s graves are indicators of their status as owners too. They may not have carried them in life, but keys as grave goods symbolise their power after death. Beyond simple interpretations of keys indicating ownership, Pantmann (2014, 52) suggests that keys had a cultic role in pagan Scandinavia. The concept of the ‘kloge kone’ or ‘wise woman’ may have been symbolised by keys, because keys have a universal symbolic value indicating knowledge, power, and insight. In this role, they are associated with Freyja and thus childbirth, the afterlife (Freyja receives half of those slain in battle into her hall Sessrúmnir), and female leadership, a role that is closely associated with the role of matriarch of a household. Berg (2015, 127) notes that the connection between keys and childbirth is that the keys symbolically unlock the womb or loins to ensure a successful birth. Keys are also associated with Christianity. The triquetra found on some keys may be associated with the Holy Trinity, but may also be a pre-Christian symbol of fertility and motherhood (Berg, 128). The focus on keys as symbols of women’s power is not supported by the archaeological evidence, so it is likely that keys are not symbolic of the housewife alone. However, it is noteworthy that decorated bronze keys are almost exclusively linked to women while iron keys are not (Aannestad. 2004, 80). The fact that keys were buried with certain people is a clear indicator of symbolic significance; the dead are buried with items that are important to them or to those that buried them. Those items gain significance by being chosen to be included as grave goods. Thus keys had symbolic significance, and it may have been related to power and access. This is supported by their rarity as finds, indicating that they belonged to the few, not to the many, and it is likely that those few were the ones who had wealth or treasures that needed locking away. Keys are symbols of wealth and access to power, and perhaps symbolise the ability to affect one’s environment through ritual action (Berg. 2015, 132), but their use as symbols is nuanced and may represent different things at different points in the Viking Age, and in different places within the Viking diaspora. As a result, unlocking the meaning of keys in the Viking Age is not simple. Further Reading: Aannestad, Hanne Lovise. 2004. “En nøkkel til kunnskap – Om kvinneroller i vikingtid”. Viking. Berg, H. L. 2015. “'Truth' and reproduction of knowledge. Critical thoughts on the interpretation and understanding of Iron-Age Keys”. In Marianne Hem Eriksen, Unn Pedersen, Bernt Rundberget, Irmelin Axelsen and Heidi Lund Berg (eds). Viking Worlds: Things, spaces and movement. Oxbow Books: Oxford. Pantmann, Pernille. 2014. “Nøglekvinderne” in Kvinner i vikingtid. Ed. by Nancy Coleman and Nanna Løkka. Scandinavian Academic Press: Oslo. Pp 39-56.
Read More
Slithering Swords in the Viking World
Forget Vikings and The Last Kingdom – the most pulsating depictions of Viking Age battle appear in early medieval Scandinavian poetry. Here, armies transform into elemental forces and fierce creatures, clashing together in a mass of noise and light. Popular in this imagery is the likening of swords to snakes, with poets styling these weapons as ‘wound snakes’ and ‘battle snakes’ that bite at their enemies. This was not just poetic flourish. Real Viking swords also had something of the snake about them. Their pattern-welded blades writhe with sinuous designs, their hilts with looping serpents. Scale-like panels encrust the heavy hilts of Petersen’s Type D swords; one from Trælnes, Norway even has dark diamonds on a brighter background, mirroring the dark-on-light streak along an adder’s back. Similar designs were made with inlaid wire on other swords. It is even tempting to ponder whether coiled-up blades in Viking burials evoked the posture of resting snakes. How and why did this union between swords and snakes come about? Well, both are long, thin, bulbous at one end and tapered towards the other; they are glossy with mottled markings; both shed their skin (or scabbard); they weave about and bite when threatened. This would be an elegant explanation if snakes were just ‘snakes’, shall we say; but in Viking Scandinavia, serpents held immense symbolic significance. They permeate Scandinavian cosmology, from the ‘world serpent’ Jǫrmungandr to Óðinn using a snake’s form to steal the mead of poetry. Clearly, poets did not just liken swords to snakes because they looked a bit similar. So, what was going on? Poets often paired snakes with key symbols of power and status in the Viking world, namely arm-rings, gold and ships. Swords behaved similarly in Viking thought, so it is perhaps no surprise that snakes dominate their description and decoration. But the ambiguity surrounding snakes may also have been a factor. In Norse mythology, serpents represented both order and destruction (Jǫrmungandr binding the world together, then running rampant at Ragnarǫk). Similarly, in the poem Rígsþula Heimdallr’s highest born child has ‘piercing’ eyes ‘like a young snake’s’, but in Skirnismál the ‘shining serpent’ is ‘hateful to men’. Such contrasting feelings also applied to swords, which were instruments of order (protecting one’s self, comrades, kingdom) and chaos (destroying those of your enemy). This tension is captured by a Valkyrie in the poem Helgakviða Hjǫrvarðssonar, who knows a sword that is ‘better than all the rest’ – but it is also ‘the evil one among battle-needles’. This verse may encapsulate why swords and snakes intertwined in Viking minds: two powerful beings that were at once alluring and deadly. References Brunning, S., '"(Swinger of) the Serpent of Wounds": Swords and Snakes in the Viking Mind' in Representing Beasts in Early Medieval England and Scandinavia, ed. by Michael D. J. Bintley and Thomas J. T. Williams (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2015)
Read More
Viking Leicestershire: The Artefactual Evidence, Part 2 Metal-detected Objects
Metal detecting is adding greatly to our knowledge of Scandinavian Leicestershire. At the time of writing, there are 130 objects recorded on the Portable Antiquities Scheme database that are Scandinavian in style, including coins (see blog) and objects now in museums (see part 1). Although recorded on the Portable Antiquities Scheme database, all finds discussed below remain in private ownership. The two most important finds are ‘Viking’ disc brooches. A gilded Jelling-style brooch from Melton depicts two gripping beasts (LEIC-36241D) and will be loaned to Melton Carnegie Museum in the spring . The other is a disc brooch from Cossington (LEIC-E7A016) with pseudo-filigree gilding which is rare in such brooches. Dr Jane Kershaw has identified this brooch as probably Danish from the late ninth or early tenth century, i.e. from the period shortly after the Great Army arrived and the Danelaw was established. There are three Anglo-Scandinavian Borre-style knot brooches from Leicestershire. These are made in a Scandinavian style but were manufactured in England. Their distribution, firmly within the Danelaw, suggests a ‘Scandinavian’ market for jewellery that reflected the styles of Scandinavia, hinting at nostalgia for the Scandinavian homeland and a desire to express Scandinavian identity. one was found just east of Melton (LEIC-782CD2), another at Goadby Marwood (LEIC-604DE5) and the last at Frisby on the Wreake (LEIC-CD4F45). This last place-name is interesting because it reflects the dominance of Old Norse in the area but points to the main settler there being Frisian and indicates that the Great Army was probably not purely Scandinavian. Some of the other artefacts recorded incude an unusual Borre-style triangular mount from Great Bowden (LEIC-48A221), very rare stirrup mount-like strap ends from Long Whatton (DENO-083C15) and Donington Le Heath (LEIC-982247), an unusual Urnes style strap end from Kirby Muxloe (LEIC-3E15B5), and a vertebral ring chain decorated strap end from Osbaston (LEIC-AE3855). Harness fittings and stirrup mounts make up about half the total and these are termed ‘Anglo-Scandinavian’. Some have direct Scandinavian parallels, some are thought to be locally made, influenced by settlement and possibly Cnut‘s reign. One rare type of stirrup mount, only found in eastern England occurs as a very rare pair from Peckleton, Leicestershire LEIC-8D1AC0 and LEIC-8C54F0. You can read more about these on the PAS blog. Lastly, we have two very rare and enigmatic objects. The first, a possible prick spur (LEIC-EEF651), from Loughborough among a small but significant scatter hinting at Scandinavian activity. It depicts a helmeted, drinking-horn-wielding man and has two parallels: both are from Germany, and it has been suggested the figure may be a Slavic God. How did it get to Loughborough? Given its suggested date range 900-1200, it could have arrived with a Scandinavian settler or it could have arrived later and be pure co-incidence it ended up near Scandinavian objects. The other is even more of a mystery (LEIC-0A4CB4). It may be a cart fitting, but it has no known parallels. Its decoration screams Viking with its gilded interlace, moustached face mask and triskele-wearing bearded beasts heads. You can read further discussion about it in a guest post by Dr Rena Maguire on our blog. I am excited to report that the finder is probably going to donate this so that it can go on display. These objects highlight the importance of recording with the Portable Antiquities Scheme. Each object is adding to a network of evidence that illuminates this period. They demonstrate the range of material culture that was popular in the Viking Age and point to enduring connections between the Danelaw and Scandinavia. The last two especially show that by recording a mystery we may eventually find a parallel and enhance our knowledge later.
Read More
Viking Leicestershire: The Artefactual Evidence, Part 1 Museum Collections
As part of the Danelaw with a county town listed amongst the Five Boroughs, Leicestershire is rich in Scandinavian influence. The county is littered with ‘Scandinavian’ place names (e.g. Harby) and we are lucky that chance finds and excavations in the city of Leicester have revealed a few distinctly Viking or Anglo-Scandinavian artefacts. The following highlights some of these finds and where they can be seen or are held. Jewry Wall Museum, Leicester Victorian chance finds from Leicester include a pendant, with an openwork writhing beast in a circular frame from Highcross St. (LA18.1860). Two beautifully carved bone objects were also recovered from there: a beast's head with gaping mouth and a ‘tongue’ shaped strap end decorated with interlace and cat-like masks (LA67.1864). Kenyon’s excavations at Jewry Wall in 1948 found an unusual mount akin to an oval brooch (JW85.1) and two ‘Norse’-type ring-headed pins (LA33.1951) with a third already recovered from Cank St. in 1912 (LA116.1962). Just outside the city at Aylestone church, a wonderful stone object was found. It's a grave cover which appears to be Scandinavian in style with ‘triskeles’ and beasts decorating its surface (LA103.1969). Unfortunately, Jewry Wall Museum is closed for renovations as this blog is posted. Charnwood Museum, Loughborough In the county, we have the rare silver Thor's hammer pendant from Thurcaston on display at Charnwood Museum (PAS ref LEIC-185125). It was found by the same person who found our only Viking coin hoard, the Thurcaston hoard (LEIC-C6D945), which is currently held at The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge but is unfortunately not on display. The hammer-shaped pendant was very rare when found in 1991, but we now have 22 examples on the Portable Antiquities Scheme database, including a rare gold Thor's hammer from East Lincolnshire (LIN-D3E540) which has similar decoration to the Thurcaston one. We also have a very rare sword pommel (Peterson type X LEIC-9158C3) from Ravenstone, metal detected and donated by the finder. It features ‘Ringerike’ ribbon-like decoration, dating it to the early 11th century. This is not yet on display but will be at Charnwood Museum for a temporary display in the Spring. Melton Carnegie Museum, Melton Mowbray In Melton Museum we have objects that are Anglo-Scandinavian, including a very rare stirrup mount from Kirby Bellars (LEIC-51E6F2). The only one of its type from Britain, its only parallel being continental and in the British Museum. We also have a harness strap distributor, one of many Anglo-Scandinavian horse accessories recorded with the Portable Antiquities Scheme. Further reading Stirrup mounts - https://finds.org.uk/counties/leicestershire/a-pair-of-stirrup-strap-mounts
Read More
A Silk Headscarf from Lincoln
In the archaeology stores of The Collection in Lincoln is a very rare Viking silk headscarf found in the early 1970s. There was an excavation in advance of a development at Saltergate in Lincoln that uncovered a previously unknown Roman gateway as well as a Roman house, part of an Anglo-Saxon graveyard and in a pit, a silk headscarf about 20 centimetres wide and 60 centimetres long. The pit was found under a council office that was being demolished and the brick-lined cellar created the perfect conditions for this fragile item to survive. The pit has been dated to the tenth century, so roughly when Lincoln was an important Viking trading settlement. The name Saltergate means the street of the salt-makers or traders, gata being the Old Norse word for street. The earliest reference to Saltergate is in the thirteenth century, although the street later became Corporation Lane, and the name Saltergate was only reintroduced in 1831. Occasionally silk headscarves have survived on sites in Sweden and the Netherlands, but most have been found in the Viking towns of the British Isles (four from Dublin, three from York and this one from Lincoln). The secret of making silk was jealously guarded in the medieval period and the Byzantine Empire was the only place outside China where it was made. The weave from this scarf matches Byzantine silk suggesting it came from the eastern Mediterranean and amazingly it is so similar to one found in Coppergate in York that we think the two examples came from the same larger piece of material. Of course archaeologists from York think it was cut up there while I have a certain Lincolnshire bias, so think Lincoln imported the material and then smaller scarves were made from it and some re-exported north to Jorvik! The material is very expensive and exotic, so whoever wore it must have paid a good price for it. How the headscarf was worn is a matter of debate. Most reconstructions of such scarves have the material laid across the head with the two long seams at the back sewn together so it covers the rear of the head (and hair). There is a reconstruction on display in the Posterngate that has the silk headscarf merely as a strip of material worn sideways across the head with ties attached to the bottom front corners to keep it on the head. The original is in conservation and too fragile to put on display. How Viking women wore their hair is a matter of debate. The only written evidence is from much later Old Norse sagas that give a few clues which are hard to interpret. Representations of Viking women in stone carvings or metal figures are also tricky to understand. The figures in such carvings are often small so it is not easy to know what is a scarf, a cap or a braid of hair. We also don't know why women wore such scarves; perhaps women were expected to cover their hair for religious or cultural reasons in Viking towns. Perhaps the scarf was there as a fashion statement, to show off the wearer's wealth or maybe just a way of keeping her hair neat. The reconstruction can be seen as part of the Posterngate tours to see the Roman gateway. They only occur a few times a year, in 2019 it will probably be 1st March, 1st June and 1st of November (but it is worth checking The Collection's website prior to making a trip in case those dates or prices change) and costs approximately £2 per head to visit.