The construction workers weren’t looking for artifacts that morning. They were dredging the Korte Linschoten River—just another day, another load of clay—when a glint of iron caught someone’s eye. What emerged from the sticky riverbed on the Linschoten Estate in the heart of the Netherlands was a long, intact, and unmistakably medieval blade.
A thousand years had passed since the sword last saw daylight. But even before archaeologists confirmed its age—somewhere between 1050 and 1150—it was clear this was no ordinary relic.

Symbols in Steel
Measuring just over a meter, the sword is about the length of a baseball bat, with a wide crossguard and a pommel shaped like a Brazil nut. Its double-edged blade is remarkably well-preserved, thanks to the oxygen-starved clay that shielded it from rust for centuries. “The iron is barely corroded due to the oxygen-poor environment of the wet soil,” said the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden, where the sword is now on display.
But it wasn’t just the condition of the weapon that stunned experts. Embedded in each side of the blade are intricate copper inlays—symbols that reach across time and belief systems.
The markings don’t stop there: on one side, the sword a circle with an X layered inside, known as a sun wheel or sonnenrad. In some parts of medieval Europe, this motif was considered sacred, often carved into churches during consecration ceremonies, especially in regions newly converted to Christianity.
Meanwhile, on the other side, there’s a geometric lattice of five interlocked diamonds within a circle, forming what’s known as an endless knot. This emblem, associated with Viking culture, was thought to offer protection and represent eternal loyalty. This mixture of Viking and Christian symbols is remarkable. The municipality of Montfoort, where the sword was found, described it as “a story of a time when symbolism and faith were closely intertwined.”

A Weapon, a Ritual, a Message?
The sword has no scabbard and experts believe this is no accident. Throughout the Middle Ages, people buried warriors with their swords—or cast their weapons into rivers after death as an offering or a farewell. This blade, seemingly laid deliberately in the water, appears to belong to that tradition.
“It was likely a ‘very personal’ possession,” the museum explained. Not simply a tool of war, but an object charged with meaning.
And while we may never know its owner’s name or allegiance, the context is suggestive. During the 11th and 12th centuries, the region was under the rule of the Bishop of Utrecht, though power struggles with the rising Counts of Holland and Flanders were intensifying. Armies were shifting tactics too—favoring one-handed swords like this one as new forms of armor emerged, and combat moved from horseback slashes to close-quarter thrusts.
Crafted from high-quality iron mined in the Veluwe region, the sword’s form reflects that military evolution. Its symbols hint at the spiritual crosscurrents of the era.

Preserving the Past
Of course, the moment you pull the sword out of its environment, it starts to deteriorate much quicker.
As soon as workers recovered the blade, local authorities called in archaeologists. Conservators moved quickly to prevent any damage. They soaked the sword in a desalination bath for ten weeks, removed salts, rinsed, dried, and treated the metal with tannins to stabilize it. Traces of wood and leather still cling to the hilt—a faint echo of a vanished grip.
It now stands in a glass case in Leiden, in the National Museum of Antiquities’ acquisitions showcase, where it will remain through September. There is no name carved into it. No written record of its battles or bearer.
Yet this sword still speaks.
“It is not only a valuable historical object,” said Montfoort city officials, “but also a piece of art that reminds us of the rich and complex history of Europe in the early Middle Ages.”
That history, once buried in clay, now gleams again.