Anglo‑Saxon Glass
Anglo‑Saxon glass shows up all over England, both in villages and graveyards dug up by archaeologists. They used glass for lots of things: small cups, beads, windows, even jewelry. After the Romans left in the 5th century AD, how glass was used changed a lot. Roman sites are full of glass, but once the Anglo‑Saxons took over, the finds drop off sharply.
In the early Anglo‑Saxon period, most intact glass items and bead sets come from old cemeteries. But by the late 7th century, fewer grave goods appear because Christians buried their dead with fewer items. That means glass shows up much less. Meanwhile, window glass starts appearing more often. That matches the rise of churches and monasteries after the conversion to Christianity. A few church writings from the time mention making and using glass, but only for windows in church buildings. Anglo‑Saxon jewelers sometimes used glass both for enamel and for cut‑glass insets.
Because most complete glass vessels come from cemeteries, scholars have been able to sort them into types. New digs at settlements have turned up similar fragments, which tells us that household glass and burial glass were basically the same. Roman vessel shapes and glasswork methods were more varied. Anglo‑Saxon glass was simpler. Most glass vessels back then couldn’t sit flat on a table; they were rounded or pointed underneath. That tells us people likely held their glass while drinking, rather than setting it down. After the 8th century, intact vessels become rarer, likely tied to Christian burial customs and fewer grave goods.
The first detailed grouping of Anglo‑Saxon glass vessels came from Dr. Donald B. Harden in 1956. He revised it in 1978. Today, the names he gave are commonly used. Later, Professor Vera Evison kept many of Harden’s types but added new categories based on fresh finds that didn’t fit into his system.
Anglo‑Saxon Glass Vessels | Bowls and Beakers
Bowls are wide glass vessels that usually stand on a flat base. They often feature decoration, including mould‑blown designs. Cone beakers are tall and taper downward to a pointed or curved base. They were less stable but had a sleek shape.
Stemmed beakers and bell beakers look alike, but bell beakers curve inward toward a central point. Stemmed beakers add a flat foot to that point. Claw beakers evolved from delicate cups adorned with dolphin shapes. In the Anglo‑Saxon era, they became thicker and more rugged, sporting claw‑like decorations.
Bottles and Specialized Forms
Bottles were rare in Anglo‑Saxon England, unlike on the continent, especially in the Rhineland and northern France. Palm cups resembled bowls with curved bases. Funnel beakers, shaped like funnels with pointed bottoms, share that same unstable feel.
Globular beakers were the most common in the sixth to seventh centuries. Harden once called them squat jugs. They have narrow necks, flared rims, rounded bodies, and depressed bases. You often find them in pairs. Pouch bottles share the globular look and decoration but tend to be taller and unstable on curved bases.
Bag beakers take the globular form and make it more cylindrical. Their bases could be rounded or pointed. Horn vessels mimic drinking horns in form. Inkwells show up in eighth‑century digs. They’re small cylinders with a narrow opening at the top. A few fragments of cylindrical jars are also known.
Glass Composition, Production, and Decoration
Anglo‑Saxon vessel glass resembles late Roman glass. It’s rich in iron, manganese, and titanium. The early glass had enough iron to leave a faint green‑yellow tint, but it stayed nearly clear. Around the end of the seventh century, quality improved. Craftsmen began using a broader palette of colors and sometimes a second color for decoration.
Most vessels were free‑blown. A few were mould‑blown, especially those with vertical ribs. Rims were shaped in fire and could be slightly thickened or cupped, either turned inward or outward. Decoration came mostly from applied glass trails. These could match the base colour or contrast with it. Some took the form of reticella‑style patterns.
Glass Beads in Burials
Almost every early Anglo‑Saxon woman’s grave has beads around the neck or chest. Men sometimes wear beads too, especially big ones tied to fancy weapons. Beads weren’t just glass. You find beads made of amber, rock crystal, amethyst, bone, shells, coral, even metal.
Beads probably served to beautify, but they might also signal social rank or serve in rituals. Anglo‑Saxon glass beads show lots of variety in how they were made, their sizes, shapes, colours, and designs. Scholars have mapped out their spread and how bead styles changed over time.
Bead Making on the Continent and in Britain
Excavations on the mainland show clear signs of bead production. Sites at Trier and Tibiscum in Romania, dating from the late Roman to the 5th century, have yielded waste glass, glass rods, and beads. Closer to England, two 6th‑7th century bead‑making sites were found in the Netherlands at Jordenstraat and Rothulfuashem. In Scandinavia, workshops from the 8th century or later are well‑documented, especially at Eketorp on Öland in Sweden and Ribe in Jutland, Denmark.
British archaeologists often assume most beads found in England were imported. Direct evidence of bead making in early Anglo‑Saxon England has yet to be found. But Ireland, northern Britain, and post‑Roman western regions show early Christian bead production. Plus, Saxon monastic and settlement sites from the 7th to 9th centuries also hint at local bead making. Based on bead distribution, researchers have proposed at least three bead groups were probably made in England.
Only two large chemical studies of Anglo‑Saxon bead collections exist. One covers Sewerby in Yorkshire and the other Apple Down in Sussex. Both show the beads used a modified soda‑lime‑silica glass, with high levels of manganese and iron oxide. These chemical tweaks corresponded to the bead’s color. Lead‑rich opaque glass was also common in Anglo‑Saxon Britain. Its lower softening point and longer work time made it ideal for beads without distorting shape. Beads were made in several ways: winding, drawing, piercing, folding, or combinations of these. Decoration came from colored twisting rods, mosaic patterns, metallic inclusions, or trails and drops of colored glass.
Window Glass
Christianity reached England in the early 7th century. That sparked church building. And window glass began appearing at more than 17 sites, including 12 religious ones. Fragments have been found by the hundreds at Jarrow, Wearmouth, Brandon, Whithorn, and Winchester. That matches stories from Bede, who says Benedict Biscop brought glaziers from Gaul to Wearmouth in AD 675 to glaze windows.
Most Anglo‑Saxon window glass is thin, long‑lasting, full of bubbles, and, if colorless, has a pale bluish‑green tint. From the 7th century on, some ecclesiastical sites also show strongly colored panes. Chemical analysis of glass from Beverley, Uley, Winchester, Whithorn, Wearmouth, and Jarrow confirms it’s mainly soda‑lime‑silica glass. Yet its composition differs from vessel glass. It has lower iron, manganese, and titanium levels, pointing to different raw materials, maybe sourced from the Levant. The tests also trace a change in flux use, from soda to potash.
Window Glass Techniques in Anglo‑Saxon England
Window glass in ancient times was made three ways: blowing cylinders, forming crowns, or casting. In Anglo‑Saxon England, we find proof that they used all three. Most window panes came from cylinder‑blown glass, though likely on a smaller scale than the famous method Theophilus describes. Some panes were made with the crown method. At Repton, thick, layered panes with swirls suggest a cast‑glass technique too.
Glass in Anglo‑Saxon Jewelry
In the 6th and 7th centuries, jewelry makers mostly used flat, cut almandine garnets in gold and cloisonné settings. But they also sometimes used glass cut as gems. They stuck mostly to blue and green glass. Rarely, red glass stood in for garnets. You can see that in pieces from Sutton Hoo, like the purse lid, and blue glass in shoulder clasps. The Forsbrook Pendant, from the 7th century, mixes garnet and blue glass inlays. Enamel was also popular - colored glass melted inside separate cells to decorate jewelry.
Chemical tests show that this jewelry glass is soda‑lime‑silica based, with less iron and manganese oxide than the types used for vessels. Its makeup is strikingly like Roman colored glass. That suggests Anglo‑Saxon craftsmen likely reused Roman opaque glass, maybe broken Roman mosaic pieces.
Making Glass in Anglo‑Saxon Times
The main glass type in that era was soda‑lime‑silica, continuing Roman traditions. But there’s almost no proof that either Romans in Britain or Anglo‑Saxons made glass from scratch - the raw materials just weren’t there. It’s hard to imagine them moving natron (the key flux) from the Middle East. More likely, raw glass was made near natron supplies and shipped as lumps. Broken glass, or cullet, was recycled; Romans did it, and Anglo‑Saxon towns like Winchester and Hamwic show big piles of it. They even likely scavenged rubbish from old Roman towns.
By the late 7th and 8th centuries, glass needed for church and monastery windows grew a lot. Meanwhile, political unrest near the Delta‑Wadi Natrun area interrupted natron supply. That pushed glassmakers to try new methods. They found they could use wood ash glass, where potash replaced natron. Potash was easier to find locally. That change helped them keep up with church building and window demand.
Glass Composition in the 1st Millennium AD
Early sites like Binchester, Castleford, and Wroxeter, all from the 1st century, show high levels of sodium oxide (Na2O), mostly above 20 percent. These Roman-era glasses also have solid levels of calcium oxide (CaO), generally around 8 percent, and fairly low levels of iron (Fe2O3). The silica (SiO2) content stays consistent, mostly around 64 to 69 percent, and aluminum oxide (Al2O3) is between 3 and 4 percent. These results are in line with what you'd expect from Roman glass made using natron as the fluxing agent.
Later sites from the 5th to 9th centuries, like Cadbury Congresbury, Spong Hill, and Winchester, show some changes. Sodium levels stay fairly high, though there's some drop, and iron and manganese levels begin to creep up. For example, Spong Hill glass contains 1.3 percent manganese and 1.2 percent iron, noticeably higher than early Roman samples. These changes point to either recycling of older Roman glass or the use of different raw materials, especially plant ash instead of mineral soda.
By the time you get to sites like Repton, Dorestadt, Helgö, and Hamwic from the 7th to 9th centuries, the glass has more variability. Sodium dips a bit more in some samples, like Hamwic, which drops to just 13.2 percent. Calcium stays fairly stable, but iron levels continue to rise. This change supports the idea that glassmaking in these regions was increasingly based on mixed or secondary sources, possibly including imported cullet or raw glass from other production zones.
At Lincoln in the 9th to 11th century, sodium levels remain low, around 13.8 percent, but calcium climbs slightly. Iron and manganese are still present in notable amounts. The overall profile still points to continued use of recycled material or imported stock rather than local primary production.
Roman glass from Leicester shows a high silica content at over 70 percent and a strong sodium presence. The HIMT glass from Carthage stands out with very high levels of iron (2.1 percent), manganese (2.7 percent), and titanium (not measured here, but usually high). This mix is typical of HIMT glass, which was produced in Egypt or the Levant and widely exported.
Levantine I and II glasses show high silica and moderate sodium levels, with very low iron and manganese, which separates them from HIMT. These were likely made using cleaner, purer sands. Egypt II glass from Ashmunein, dating to the 8th to 9th century, has high calcium and lower potassium and magnesium. Its composition supports plant ash as the flux, showing the regional move away from natron-based glass by this time.
These variations tell us a lot about where the glass came from and how it was made. Changes in oxide content mark clear changes in supply networks, raw materials, and recycling practices through the centuries. The jump in iron, manganese, and sometimes titanium suggests the use of either different sands or different flux sources, especially in later periods.
Glass Working in Anglo‑Saxon Britain
Digging at Anglo‑Saxon sites has turned up some signs of glassworking. There are crucibles used for melting, bits of broken glass, and the remains of furnaces. But so far, no one has found a complete setup. There are no sites with both furnaces and crucibles or with both debris and working areas. The few furnaces that have been found all come from religious sites like monasteries. That suggests the church was backing most of the glasswork during this time. The main focus was likely making window glass for church buildings.
Some written records hint that glass workers didn’t stay in one place. They likely traveled, working as needed, and often used broken glass as raw material. So instead of big production centers that shipped out goods, glasswork may have been small-scale, done on the spot.
Even though we can trace the steps they used to work glass, we still don’t know how common the craft was. It’s hard to say how much glass working happened or how spread out it was. Some say the lack of solid evidence means most glass was brought in from across the Channel. But that doesn’t quite add up. Glass vessel production sites are rare even in Europe, and some of the glass vessels found in England don’t show up anywhere else. That points to at least some local production. Kent might have been one of those centers.
The low number of known sites doesn’t just reflect how spotty the archaeology is. It also shows how easy it was to reuse glass. Since it could be melted down again and again, there wouldn’t be much waste left behind for us to find.
