Some of the objects are decorated with re-used Roman glass, a reminder both of Roman technology and of Rome’s fall more poignantly still, the majority of the items were systematically dismantled or broken up before they were buried, the precious metals and stones separated from the iron, wood, bone and cloth they once adorned. Perhaps most of all, though, the Staffordshire Hoard makes one think of passing, inheritance and decline. The few objects that are not overtly martial are religious, and these show us how Christianity and paganism overlapped in England at this time: there are Christian crosses in the hoard, but they are decorated with the interlaced plants and animals characteristic of the pagan Germanic peoples. These rich and intricately worked treasures, most of which were once decorations for weapons, conjure images of kings and warriors in the Dark Ages: Anglo-Saxon noblemen, proud and brave, the gold and garnets on their war gear flashing in the light of the sixth-century sun. I would like you to come with me first to Birmingham, to visit the Staffordshire Hoard. Although I want to tell you about a poem, let us begin with objects.
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