In the previous chapter (link) we revealed that (in contrast to the wide variability of shields from contemporary graves) the late 6th century princely burial shields were all practically identical, with suites of four simple disc mounts on the board, simple 1a(i) iron grip reinforcers, and innovative SB-4b / Dickinson’s Type 6 shield bosses – the smallest and lightest of all Anglo-Saxon bosses. In a number of these cases the boards were also made of ultra-light-weight willow. This is the lightest combination of fittings possible, among those evidenced from early Anglo-Saxon graves. We have therefore argued that the princely shields represent a class of very carefully made, high-performance versions of the standard Anglo-Saxon shield, with weight-reduction prioritised over ostentation.
In 2021 we undertook a project to reconstruct such a shield – to explore precisely how light such a shield could be for a given diameter, and to explore methods consistent with archaeological clues which might have been employed to embellish such shields, commensurate with the status of their owners, without compromising their performance. The result would provide a theoretical minimum weight for an early Anglo-Saxon shield of practical size, and represent our tenth and most ‘authentic’ shield reproduction to date.
All work on this replica was undertaken from April to July 2021, by Thegns of Merica team members Dr Andrew Thompson and Æd Thompson unless otherwise stated.
Choice of Wood
Despite its widespread use and favourable properties, however, to our knowledge willow has only very rarely found its way into modern replica shields due to difficulty in sourcing broad seasoned willow planks. In the UK today, at least, willow is relatively uncommon, and willow trees of a sufficient size to yield shield planks are rare, much loved as amenity trees, and often subject to tree protection orders (TPOs). When substantial willow timber (usually Salix alba) reaches the market, it is quickly snapped up, particularly by cricket-bat manufacturers. The traditional cricket-bat making industry has also been responsible for the curation and proliferation of a particular cultivar - Salix alba 'Caerulea' / 'cricket-bat willow' - the timber from which is typical of the species, but which grows more quickly and usually with a more reliably straight stem.
We were very fortunate to have been able to acquire, as a one-off, a small set of cricket-bat willow (Salix alba var:Caerulea) planks in 2016; just enough to make a single shield. These were approximately 12mm thick, varying up to 72cm long and varying around 12cm wide – far narrower than we have hitherto used for planked shields. These were stored for a number of years, allowing them to stabilise, and waiting for the right project to make use of them.
Board Size / Number of Planks
As evidence for the boards of Anglo-Saxon shields themselves are mostly limited to the tiny mineralised remains on the backs of iron fittings, information concerning construction – and particularly, the width and number of planks used for early Anglo-Saxon shields remains elusive. Being very thin and seemingly held together only by edge-to-edge glueing, it has long been supposed that, for optimal strength, shield planks should be as wide, and as few as possible, which seems intuitively obvious. Dickinson and Harke (1992) cite an instance of an early Anglo-Saxon shield from Alveston Manor, Warwickshire, where preserved grain suggested a three-plank construction (with the outer planks, unusually, having a perpendicular grain direction), and at least one shield from the related Swedish Vendel Culture – a large shield from the Valsgarde-8 ship burial (7th century) where the central plank was a massive 52cm wide.
In practice, however, building a shield from the fewest, widest possible planks brings a number of significant drawbacks. Firstly, wide planks can only be sourced from the very centre of very large trees (in turn subject to the limitations of the species). These trees are obviously precious, the cleaving of full-width planks from them is extremely labour intensive, and the large surface area of such planks means a high probability of the presence of defects. Extremely wide planks – a full section through the midline of the trunk would greatly limit the uses of the remainder of the trunk – generally wasteful of timber - and (effectively what we’d now call rift-sawn) are also particularly liable to warping due to temperature and humidity changes, which would be undesirable for a shield.
Most importantly, though, and counterintuitively, the use of fewer, wider planks may not lead to a tougher shield, but actually the opposite. With glued joints being quite rigid, any force of flexion of the board is shared between the planks, with wider planks taking a greater share, with the stress directed to the midline of each plank, and particularly those in the centre of the shield. With early-medieval glues being stronger than the wood they adhere to (see later) it is actually with-grain snapping down the midline of wide planks, especially in the centre of the shield, that is a board’s most likely point of failure, as we have learned to our cost with at least one of our previous reconstructions.
In fact, better preserved shield-boards from adjacent periods and cultures were very often made of a greater number of narrower planks; the Viking Gokstad ship’s shields were made of 7-9 planks, as were the shields from the Germanic Iron Age Thorsberg bog deposit (3-4th century CE) each being 8-23cm wide (Dickinson & Harke, 1992). To these can now be added data from reassembled ‘pigment trench’ shield planks from the latter phases of the Nydam bog deposit (4-5th century CE) which were 83-104cm in diameter, and comprised of 6-10 (but most commonly seven) planks (Holst & Neilsen, 2020). Plank width was very variable both across, and within shields, but based crudely on dividing diameter by plank number, mean plank width per shield varied from 9-15cm, with a median of 13cm.
Our willow planks – narrower than we are used to – were well within the evidenced range, and varying around 12cm, were close to the average plank-width of the Nydam shields; a 70cm board would make use of all six planks.
Our planks had originally been only very roughly sawn, and as expected, had warped slightly as their moisture content had stabilised. Thankfully, as they began twice as thick as the board needed to be, the spare thickness gave plenty of leeway to shave them back to approximately flat. The edges were planed, placed tightly together ready for glueing, with the 70cm circle drawn out.
Glueing the Boards
For our previous planked shield reconstructions, we have favoured collagen-based glue (hide glue / animal glue / pearl glue), a form of which Theophilus describes being made from hides and stag horns. These are probably the most ancient of all glues, made from boiled up animal sinews and skins, to produce an amorphous gel of partly broken collagen chains which are desperate to link back up together under the right conditions. Applied hot, it cools to a stiff gel which fixes joints weakly together before drying of the water component leads to the glue shrinking- pulling the joint tighter (self-clamping action) and solidifying to a glass-like hardness. Its reversibility is helpful during manufacturing, and during repair work, but might be a liability in the context of, say, a shield on a military campaign, with the joints potentially weakened by exposure to moisture. An additional problem is that collagen is actually made more soluble in acidic conditions – such as would be provided by the tannic acids present in part or fully veg-tanned hide, so any leather-faced shield held together with animal glue would have to be very thoroughly treated with oils or waxes to provide some water resistance. Importantly for plausibility, such glue would completely dissolve and wash away over >1000 years exposed to soil acids, and any traces which might remain would be indistinguishable from the collagen that would be present anyway from the skin-product covering. In the context of Anglo-Saxon shield reconstructions, we have found animal glue to be highly effective; an earlier reconstruction of the Bidford-on-Avon 33 shield made of thin ash planks, now decommissioned, cracked down its planks and had to be repaired repeatedly, but interestingly it was always the wood, not the glue joints, which failed.
An alternative described by Theophilus is so-called “cheese glue” derived from the casein proteins present in milk, which he says was used to fix door panels and altar-boards (edge-to-edge, and covered in hide with the same glue, in a manner clearly analogous to shield-boards) producing bonds that, crucially, could not be loosened with damp or heat.
“The individual pieces for altar and door panels are first carefully fitted together with the shaping tool that is used by coopers and vat-makers. They should be stuck together with cheese glue which is made in this way:
Cut soft cheese into small pieces and wash it with hot water in a mortar with a pestle, repeatedly pouring water over it until it comes out clear. Thin the cheese by hand and put it into cold water until it becomes hard. Then it should be rubbed into very small pieces on a smooth wooden board with another piece of wood, and put back into the mortar and pounded carefully with the pestle, and water mixed with quicklime should be added until it becomes as thick as lees. When the panels have been glued together with this glue they stick together so well when they are dry that they cannot be separated by dampness or heat. Afterwards they should be smoothed […]. The panels should be covered with the raw hide of a horse or an ass or a cow which should have been soaked in water. As soon as the hairs are scraped off, a little water should be wrung out and the hide while still damp laid on top of the panels with cheese glue.”
(Theophilus 'On Divers Arts', 12th century - Translation from Hawthorne & Smith, 1979)
It's clear that what is being described closely resembles shield-making, and having not used this method before we were keen to try it on this shield. Knowing a little chemistry, it was possible to rationalise Theophilus’ recipe somewhat. The glue described is essentially just milk protein (casein) which has been separated from milk (curdled – condensed by the addition of an acid), concentrated (by draining off the whey) and then re-dissolved in an alkali, forming an almost saturated protein solution - a thick glossy liquid like PVA, which is made and applied cold and solidifies by the slow drying of the solvent. As the water component of this saturated protein solution evaporates, proteins come out of solution (and begin to crosslink) but so does the alkali, thereby causing the pH of the remaining liquid to fall, thus encouraging more condensation of the proteins. When all of the water is driven off, what is left is a hard protein cement, which is somewhat waterproof.
The waterproofness of this glue appears to be the result of the fact that casein protein is not soluble in acidic, or neutral water. Although the glue is applied as an alkaline solution, the dry alkali powder (base) left behind in the glue when it is dry, is sequestered inside the network of dry protein, thus creating a chicken-and-egg problem. Water can’t dissolve the protein because it’s not alkaline, and the base in the glue can’t dissolve, to make it alkaline again, because it’s trapped behind the protein. A happy coincidence in the case of shields – or Theophilus altar boards – is that any water which soaked into such a board would first dissolve tannic acids from the hide, becoming acidic and all the more unable to dissolve the casein glue.
The medieval description of the production of this glue is somewhat overcomplicated. For reasons of controlling purity, we chose to begin with simple unpasteurised milk rather than cheese, which we curdled with a few drops of vinegar. The curds (mostly casein protein) were separated from the whey using cheese-cloth, washed with water (getting rid of the more soluble sugars and proteins from the milk) and rubbed under cold water (to harden the curds so they don’t smear) to produce a fine powder, which was patted dry with tissue, and transferred to a pot.
The limited solubility of calcium hydroxide in water means that any solution will quickly become saturated – and reach but not exceed pH 12.4, with any excess calcium hydroxide remaining in suspension of powder or gradually settling. This would allow the medieval craftsman complete, reliable control of the pH of the fresh glue without ever having to measure it, or be aware of the chemistry. pH 12.4 is just alkaline enough to allow the milk protein to dissolve, but not alkaline enough to destroy it.
To make the glue, then, we simply added the clear limewater, drip by drip, to the relatively dry powdered curds, stirring and mashing. This stage is frustrating, because even with the help of the alkali the protein is not keen to dissolve, and does so only on the very surface of each lump. This explains why Theophilus was keen to emphasise the importance of rubbing the curds to powder first, increasing the surface area of the curds for attack by the solvent. Once the curds had completely dissolved, forming a smooth thick glue, we then spread the glue liberally on the plank joins, bonding them in pairs, placed carefully against a wall to allow the joints to hold together under gravity, and allowed the glue to dry over 48 hours. We then whipped up another batch of glue, and joined these pairs together.
The Shaping of the Board
Contrary to many modern representations, 'Anglo-Saxon' (and, indeed, 'Viking') shields were not of uniform thickness, being thinner on the edge than the centre (Dickinson & Harke, 1992; Bullock et. al., 2011). This is demonstrated by differences in the lengths of rivet shanks, of board and rim fittings, compared to boss rivets of the same shields in graves, and best demonstrated by the shield from Sutton Hoo Mound 1, where the many board fittings and copper-alloy rim demonstrate that the board was flat and of constant thickness for most of its width, thinning in its outer few inches, which were also carved to curve backward creating a very slightly dished effect (Carver, 2005).
Better preserved boards, both from the late Iron Age and Viking Age show that shield boards most commonly had edges thinned from the front, creating a slightly domed surface on the front while keeping the back flat.
It has been suggested that the thinning of the shield’s edge might encourage enemy blades to bide into, and be gripped by the edge of the shield, giving its wielder control of an enemy’s weapon in combat (Warzecha et. al. 2017). However, such thinning also has a considerable impact on the weight and manoeuvrability of the shield, for two reasons. Firstly, the outer region of a circle represents a much larger-than-intuitive portion of a circle’s area, and thus, a shield’s mass. For example, in a 1m circle, the outer 12.5cm ring (ie. covering 25% of its diameter) represents 44% of the circle’s area. Carving this zone to halve its thickness overall would therefore reduce the mass of the shield board (not including hide) by 22%, which is significant. The other reason for such thinning greatly improving shield-handling, is that it redistributes a greater proportion of the remaining mass of the shield closer to the central handle, and pivot point, reducing the force (moment) required to manoeuvre the shield and making it less tiring to use in an active fashion in loose combat.
The Handle and Reinforcer
The strongest, and seemingly commonest construction approach was to insert the grip from the board front (Dickinson A1 type), sandwiched between the boss flange on the front, and grip reinforcer on the back. This requires that the back of the grip be flat, while it remains desirable for manoeuvrability/pivoting (Warzecha et. al. 2017) and comfort that the front of the handle be rounded, but also with sloping shoulders of the laps so as not to interfere with the boss flange.
For this shield, we carefully carved shallow recesses in the front of the already very thin board, somewhat off-centre, then carved a grip of corresponding shape, which when inserted would be flush with the back of the board, allowing for neat installation of the iron reinforcer. The front of the grip was then carefully carved down until the boss could sit neatly over it without interference. Though not our goal, the resulting grip meeting these requirements ended up greatly resembling the grips from Nydam. We then fixed the grip into place with more cheese-glue, and turned our attention to the iron grip reinforcer.
Iron grip reinforcers were effectively universal on early Anglo-Saxon shields and came in a number of different types, including rarer long varieties which spanned much of the width of the board. Nevertheless, these, being thin and of relatively soft, non-springy iron, cannot have contributed any rigidity to the board. The overwhelmingly most common type – which became universal in the late 6th to 7th century – was a simple short flat strip of metal, either rectangular or bow-tie shaped, with a rivet in each end (Dickinson & Harke, 1992). This was the type preserved among the remains of our princely burial shields, and we chose to produce an exact replica of the reinforcer from the best documented example – that of the Prittlewell Princely Burial (Blackmore et. al, 2019) which was slightly longer than typical. It was carefully shaped to be slightly narrower in the centre than the organic grip, for comfort, and carefully filed and polished.
There is some ambiguity in whether such reinforcers were held in place by true rivets, or clench-nails; reports usually refer to the former, while reconstruction drawings (Dickinson & Harke, 1992; Stephenson, 2002) typically show the latter, and remains we have examined rarely provide conclusive answers on this, owing to heavy corrosion and disintegration or loss of small components such as shanks and roves. This appears to have been the case for the Prittlewell shield (Blackmore et al. 2019), while the well-studied shields from the Tranmer House cemetery (the 6th century cemetery beside Sutton Hoo) varied, with some grips fixed with clench-nails, and some with true rivets, establishing that both approaches are indeed valid (Bullock et. al., 2011).
We decided to play it safe and use conventional rivets, carefully recessing rectangular roves in the front face of the grip, so that the peened ends of the rivets holding the grip assemblage together would not interfere with the seating of the boss. These fittings were all test-fitted; at this stage the hand-hole was also carefully bevelled and sanded smooth for comfort.
The Rim Holes
More recently, invaluable insights into what could be called “Proto-Anglo-Saxon” shields, and by extension, those found in early Anglo-Saxon graves, have been provided by research on finds from the long-used late Iron Age martial sacrificial bog site of Nydam, on the German-Danish border. Holst & Neilsen (2020) provide detailed analysis of recovered fragments of at least 26 shields originally excavated in 1994-5 in loose association with the pine boat deposit which are in most respects uncannily similar to the shields in early Anglo-Saxon graves, with planks dendro-dated to the mid-4th century, but with deposition dated by environmental archaeology to the early 5th.
25 of the 26 shields analysed from this Nydam phase had closely spaced rim holes. Compression of the wood fibres suggests these holes (which have partially closed-up due to absorption of water in the bog) were made using an awl, and frayed fibres of ‘exit holes’ suggest they were pushed in from the board front. Several holes contained degraded organic material possibly representing the remains of the stitching cord itself, and in three instances a secondary line of holes was present inward of the main row around the rim, perhaps representing the application of a secondary rim strip as a repair. Unlike shields from the earlier deposits/phases within the long-used Nydam Mose depositional site, these shields did not have any metal rims associated with them, and their holes are too variably spaced to have been for the riveting or nailing of metal rims. “Excavating Nydam'' (Holst & Neilsen, 2020) reports the hole-spacing ranges for each of 23 of these shields, which varied somewhat across each shield, and varied widely from shield to shield, perhaps suggesting the holes were made haphazardly without precise measuring, with shields perhaps made by different craftspeople with different approximate spacing preferences. They most typically had 1-2mm holes spaced 8-12mm apart, running the whole circumference of boards, 5-7mm inward of the very edge.
In the absence of similarly well-preserved boards of shields from early Anglo-Saxon graves, these ‘proto-Anglian’ shields are therefore perhaps the closest we will ever get to filling in the gaps in our knowledge of the construction of early AS shields, including the elusive rim.
For our new shield, we chose to follow the absolute average spacing seen on these Nydam shields - 10mm apart and 6mm in from the shield edge. The holes were awled from the board front with a square cross-section awl, following the roughly square profile of some of the Nydam holes.
Although folk of Migration Period Northern Europe, and the early Anglo-Saxons could certainly have drilled these holes in the relatively soft board-wood using a bow or pump-drill, it is interesting they chose to pierce them with an awl instead. This might have been for greater convenience, but also, in forcing the fibres of the wood apart, rather than cutting them, and compressing them around the hole, awled holes might have been thought to lead to a more durable shield rim.
The ” Skin Product” Cover
With both tanned and untanned hides evidenced across this sample of shields, which bookend our period, these results unfortunately do not narrow the possibilities for how Anglo-Saxon shields were made, but the methodology demonstrated and validated provides hope that the status of Anglo-Saxon shield leathers might one day be clarified.
We're grateful to Rolf F. Warming for bringing this to our attention.
It’s thought that early Anglo-Saxon tanners generally could not produce fully tanned thick leather, but the thin layers on shields certainly could have been partially or fully tanned (Cameron, 2000). Vegetable-tanned leather, being flexible and easily moulded, is easier to apply to a shield face than rawhide, requires less wetting and thus leads to less board-warping shrinkage, and its smooth surface is more easily waxed and polished to form a water-resistant surface. On the other hand, surface rawhide is harder, potentially more resistant to cutting and impact, and cannot be smoothed onto the board without considerable wetting and moulding, which leads to substantial shrinkage and tension, warping the board but potentially increasing impact resistance (Lewis, 2011). Whichever option is chosen, these layers are, by far, the most expensive parts of any shield reconstruction.
Although we have experimented with rawhide, with mixed results, in recent years we have stuck to veg-tanned leather, mainly for reliability. However, we have always been aware that modern veg-tans are themselves very different from historical leathers, being pale in colour (corrected by application of natural oils, sun-tanning, and dyes) and naturally quite soft.
For this shield we were keen to experiment with something more “authentic”, and turned to “The Woodland Tannery” a new social enterprise based in Fife, Scotland, producing leather from locally sourced deer-hide, pit-tanned over at least 12 months using by-products of management of local forests, including oak, spruce and willow bark, moss and peat. They were able to supply a piece of traditionally tanned red-deer leather for the front of our shield just within our budget, with some natural defects. Having been supplied in a dry state without softening with oils, this leather was extremely stiff and tough, behaving more similarly to high quality rawhide, but also very thin, with little spongy flesh remaining behind the tough outer layer.
We cut it generously to shape, to account for any possible shrinkage and to keep our options open for the stitching of the rim, then scraped the reverse - still rough with some connective tissues and hair follicles, until it was relatively smooth across its whole surface.
This, and the back-leather, were applied with yet more cheese glue, and allowed to dry. The board warped ‘forward’ due to moisture from the glue applied to the back, before returning flat. On application of the special leather on the front, it was soon clear that this would shrink severely as it dried. The result was an almost ‘shrink-wrapping’ effect on the front (as can be seen by the 'clenching' of the excess leather around and behind the edge of the shield due to shrinkage) spreading extremely neatly and without lumps, and adhering strongly. This did, however, lead to a small amount of forward-warping of the board.
Certainly not ideal, this bend is a consequence of applying leather with different properties on each side; if the historic leather had been applied to both sides the stress from shrinkage would have been roughly equal on both sides, resulting in a flatter board.
Rim Stitching
It has been common practice to stitch strips of leather or rawhide around reenactment shields, especially those without leather facing, as protection from splitting and splintering. However, as most shields from burials appear to have had skin-product on both sides, it’s equally possible that the rim was formed directly of these, with an excess of either cover moulded around the edge and stitched onto the opposite side. This approach, though considerably more technically challenging, would have the desirable outcome of allowing the shield to be thinner at the edge.
Folding the front around onto the back, however, would not lead to a visibly raised rim like those seen on depictions. Conversely, stitching the back-leather around onto the front would, like a separately applied rim, lead to a flap that could catch blades and direct them to cut the vulnerable stitching.
For this shield it was suggested we try a different, but also more complicated approach (Matt Bunker, personal comm.) The back leather was folded around onto the front of the board and trimmed just short of the stitch holes, then the front leather was folded round onto the back, and stitched down tightly (with coarse linen cord) pulling the layer beneath tight too. This resulted in a smooth continuous front surface, with a slightly raised rim due to the layer of ‘back-leather’ moulded beneath, while the very edge of the board benefits from two layers of leather. The rim being proud of the stitches which fix it together, with this approach, may offer them some protection from being cut during battle.
Like the other alternatives this method is conjectural and at least equally consistent with the limited available evidence, but might confer some durability advantages, and produce a satisfyingly neat result. In the hand-holes the front and back covers were also trimmed and joined by stitching, effectively lining the hand holes – a detail implied by remains from the 6th century shield from Tranmer House grave 909 (Bullock et. al., 2011). This was the last stage in manufacturing this board, before addressing decoration and installation of metal fittings.
We finally fixed the grip and its iron reinforcer in place, peening the rivets over their roves recessed in the front of the handle, on the front of the board, then turned to the shield boss which would cover it.
The Boss
As previously discussed, this certainly appears to have been the case for the late 6th century princely burial shields, and their bosses are examples of the very lightest type seen in early Anglo-Saxon archaeology – SB-4b (Holilund-Neilsen; Bayliss et. al. 2013) or Type 6 (Dickinson) weighing only 262g on average. They were the very first bosses to integrate small dome (or ‘knob- ‘) headed rivets on a much narrower flange, rather than the large disc-headed rivets which preceded them, which again greatly improved weight efficiency. This boss type arguably represents a not-so-missing link between the low and heavy bosses of the 5-6th centuries, and the lightly built but tall sugarloaf bosses of the 7th, yet they also occur in some of the latest furnished warrior burials suggesting that this small ultra-efficient boss type continued in use well into the 7th century and possibly beyond.
Other Fittings
Usually iron (or more rarely, bronze) and sometimes tin-plated, these had smooth undecorated surfaces but were clearly intended to be very visual elements on shields. Their purpose or significance, however, remains unclear.
The possibility that they were over-large rivets for attachment of straps or other functional elements can be discounted, for they are very rarely found with stout shanks or roves, and although there are some examples with shank-remains or where the flat head of a rivet piercing the centre of the disc has been forged flat with it, in the majority of cases, extant discs are ‘perfect’ and unpierced, and many lack any shank or nail remains on the back, whatsoever, leaving it something of a mystery how they were typically mounted.
For these examples lacking shank remains, one possibility is that their nails, pins or rivets were attached to the backs of the discs by means of tin or silver soldering. This approach was commonly employed on early Anglo-Saxon copper-alloy items such as brooches and hanging bowls, allowing functional elements (pin attachments, and hanging mounts respectively) to be attached to these expensive objects without disrupting their decoration with rivets. It further appears to have been the favoured approach used to attach decorative disc mounts to shield boss apex buttons. Such soldering is relatively strong and can also be deployed, carefully, between iron items, but where this was done, traces would be difficult, or even impossible to identify on archaeological iron.
The reason for this is galvanic / bi-metallic corrosion, accelerating the decay of the iron in immediate contact with the solder. In the case of disc mounts, this would lead to both pin and disc quickly becoming dissociated from the solder, leaving little trace of the joint ever having been there on the rusted back of the disc fitting.
That they were emphasised on representations of shields in contemporary Scandinavian iconography (see above) - even though no other form of shield embellishment is typically shown on these depictions, suggests that they had some significance. It's further noteworthy that the Scandinavian depictions typically show a different number and arrangement of discs than is typically seen among shields from Anglo-Saxon burials, enabling speculation that they served some purpose of communication of rank or identity. This would be very difficult to prove or disprove.
Alternatively, it is plausible that such fittings may have been designed partly to confuse enemy combatants; when positioned unpredictably around the board, and in the absence of other clues, such mounts could help to disguise the orientation the circular shield was being held, and thus which way it might pivot when struck, which would confer advantages to the wielder.
Most of the sets of remains of shields from the late 6th century princely burials included suites of these disc fittings. The shield from Sutton Hoo Mound 17 had two pairs, the corresponding Taplow shield had at least three, and the more degraded remains of the Prittlewell shield included remains of at least three (Blackmore et. al., 2019), which the excavators inferred represented two matching pairs with one disc non-extant. Using the measurements of the discs from Prittlewell, we added four discs, cut from thin sheet and gently dishing them by panel beating. We carefully attached small sharpened nails to their backs using silver-soldering, ready for them to be fitted to the shield. As a nod to the shield from Taplow, we also added a small polished silver disc to the apical button of the boss, and a woven shoulder-strap with small iron oval-loop buckle, looped around the handle.
Now structurally complete, the shield weighed 2.5 kg, of which around 600g was accounted for by the metal fittings, with the remainder (c 75%) attributable to the 71cm diameter board. This is likely to be very close to the minimum possible weight for a shield of equivalent size consistent with archaeological data, and considerably lighter than most other reconstructions, including all of ours (see Table 1) yet the shield feels surprisingly robust.
Thegns of Mercia Shield Replica |
Details |
Board |
Leather |
Est Max. Thickness (mm) |
Diameter (cm) |
Area (m^2) |
Weight (kg) |
Bidford 33 |
Early/low boss |
Ash plank |
Front only* |
7 |
77 |
0.47 |
3.6 |
Bidford 182 |
Early/low boss, bronze mounts |
Ash plank |
Front only* |
12 |
67 |
0.35 |
4.1 |
Princely Shield |
Transitional/light boss |
Willow plank |
Both sides |
8 |
71 |
0.40 |
2.5 |
Hoard Shield |
Tall-straight-cone boss. Jewelled mounts. Bronze rim. |
Birch ply * |
Both sides |
8 |
77 |
0.47 |
4.2 |
Boars Low, Tissington |
Tall sugarloaf boss |
Birch ply * |
Both sides |
9 |
74 |
0.43 |
4.0 |
Æ.T. Viking |
Small Cumwhitton boss, medium ash wood handle |
Birch ply * |
Both sides |
9 |
74 |
0.43 |
3.7 |
AC Lewis Viking |
Simple dome boss, long pine handle |
Pine plank |
Linen * + rawhide both sides |
18* |
84 |
0.55 |
5.7 |
Previously we have avoided painting shields, not because we believe it wasn’t done, but rather, because of a lack of direct evidence to tell us, crucially, how the paints were made and used, and what designs were painted on them. However, in recent years new evidence has come to light, allowing us to integrate painted designs into an early Anglo-Saxon shield reconstruction for the first time – to be discussed in the final chapter.
References
Blackmore, Lyn, et al. The Prittlewell Princely Burial: Excavations at Priory Crescent, Southend-on-Sea, Essex, 2003. MOLA (Museum of London Archaeology), 2019.
Bullock, Hayley, Alexandra Baldwin, and Jamie Hood. "Evidence for shield construction from the early Anglo-Saxon cemetery site of Tranmer House, Bromeswell, Suffolk." British Museum technical research bulletin 5 (2011): p-15.
Bunker, Matt. [Personal Communication]. 24/05/2021
Cameron, Esther Anita. Sheaths and scabbards in England AD 400-1100. Archaeopress, 2000.
Carver, Martin. Sutton Hoo: a seventh-century princely burial ground and its context. British Museum Press. 2005.
Dickinson, Tania M, and Härke, Heinrich. Early Anglo-Saxon Shields. Vol. 110. London: Society of Antiquaries of London, 1992.
Evison, Vera. I. Sugar-Loaf Shield Bosses. The Antiquaries Journal 43 (1). Vol 43. 1963
Hawthorne, John G., and Cyril Stanley Smith. On divers arts: the foremost medieval treatise on painting, glassmaking, and metalwork. Courier Corporation, 1979.
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