THE FIGURE IN ENAMEL AND THE ENGRAVED PLATE AT THE BACK OF IT
But the vital problem of the Alfred Jewel is in the enamelled
Figure. Of its meaning there have been guesses and suggestions, some
reasonable, some wild; M. Labarte could only say, ‘it represents a
figure hard to characterize.’ This Figure is manifestly of a religious
character, and it is the centre and focus of the whole. All the other
parts are relative and subordinate to this, and the entire Jewel is in
fact a setting and a shrine for this sacred object. We must endeavour
to ascertain its intention and significance, but before attempting
this interpretation we must consider the Enamel as a work of art.
For this venerable relic, even if regarded only in its material aspect
as an ingenious mechanical product, and as a specimen of a once
flourishing art, is rare and curious to so high a degree as to confer
rank upon any Museum (however otherwise rich) that is so fortunate as
to possess it.
Behind the Enamel, in the position of a backboard to a picture-frame,
is a separate gold plate bearing a significant device which is
certainly intended as a counterpart to the Figure of the obverse.
From the relation observable between these two representations we may
gather a constructive inference. Thus we have three subjects for our
consideration in the present chapter, and it will be convenient to
give to each of them a separate section by itself. Accordingly, the
plan of this chapter will be as follows:—I. The Enamel as an artistic
product; II. The inward signification of the enamelled Figure, and of
the Engraving at the back of it; III. A Constructive Inference.
I
THE ENAMEL AS AN ARTISTIC PRODUCT
Of enamels we may say that they are a sort of paintings or
embroideries;—only not made with liquid pigments nor with variegated
threads, but with molten glass diversely tinted by means of metallic
oxides[16]. On the one hand they are the precursors of our painted
windows, and on the other they are the parents of the famous works of
the artists of Limoges. Of this artistic industry the Alfred Jewel
preserves a specimen of the rarest kind. It belongs to the type which
is designated _cloisonnée_, because the outlines of the design have
first been made by little slender barriers of gold which serve as
fences between the colours. Into the compartments so enclosed the
material of the enamel is deposited in the form of a vitreous paste,
that is, glass ground to a fine powder, and mixed with the colouring
material and moistened. So prepared, the work is passed into an oven,
with a heat to melt the glass, but not the metal plate upon which
the design has been laid. If the process is successful, the work is
substantially achieved when it comes out of the oven, and nothing
remains to be done but the dressing and finishing of the surface. Of
this _cloisonnée_ type M. Labarte, in enumerating nine examples, as
being the chief works of this kind now extant, gives to all of them
the title ‘Byzantine.’
_The chief extant Monuments in Byzantine Enamel Cloisonnée, according
to Labarte._
1. The celebrated crown of gold, which goes by the name of the Iron
Crown, is the oldest extant jewel that is enriched with enamel. It
was given to the cathedral at Monza by Theodelinda, the Lombard
queen, who died in 625[17].
2. The enamels in the altar of St. Ambrose of Milan, executed in 835,
must have been executed by Greek artists, who were numerous in Italy
at that time. It is to be noted that the flesh tints are rendered by
opaque white.
3. The enamels in the cross called the Cross of Lothaire in the
treasury of the cathedral at Aix-la-Chapelle, which we hold to be
Byzantine work.
4. “A jewel preserved in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford. It was
discovered in 1696 (_sic_), near the Abbey of Athelney, in which
Alfred the Great took refuge when he was defeated by the Danes in
878. Mr. Albert Way has given a description of it, with engravings
of front and back, and in section (_The Archæological Journal_, vol.
ii, p. 164). The inscription AELFRED MEC HEHT GEVYRCAN (_Alfred
ordonna que je fusse fait_) which stands in the thickness of the
piece, is thought to leave small room for doubt as to the origin
which is attributed to it. The enamel of the obverse is executed
by the process of _cloisonnage_; it represents a figure hard to
characterize (_il reproduit une figure dont il est difficile de
déterminer le caractère_). The flesh portions are in whitish enamel;
the colours employed in the drapery are pale green and ruddy brown
semi-transparent; the ground is blue. The jewel terminates in the
head of an animal, in golden filigree, with all the characteristics
of the oriental style.
“Admitting that the inscription may apply to Alfred the Great,
this jewel would not by itself be sufficient to prove that the art
of enamelling was practised in England in the ninth century. The
inscription might have been engraved after the king had purchased it
(possibly) of a merchant from the East.”
5. The enamels which environ the gold crown preserved in the treasury
of St. Mark’s, at Venice. We see there a bust of the Emperor Leo the
Philosopher (886–911), who was probably the donor of this votive
crown, which was made to be suspended over an altar.
6. The enamels on a chalice in the same treasury; it appears by the
inscription to have been executed for an emperor who died in 944.
7. The enamels on the reliquary of Limburg. This magnificent piece
was executed before 976.
8. The enamels upon eight gold plates which were found at Nyitra,
in Hungary. Seven of them are in the Museum at Pesth. These eight
plates unite to form a crown, one in front and one at back, and three
on either side. Each has its enamelled picture. The front piece has
a portrait of Constantinus Monomachus (1042). The pieces to right
and left of this represent the Empresses Theodora and Zoe; the next
two on either side represent actresses; the third on either side
contains an allegorical figure of a woman, the one being Humility,
with hands crossed in front, the other Truth, bearing a cross. The
eighth, which is the hindmost, is circular, and represents St.
Andrew[18].
9. The enamels which decorate the royal crown of Hungary, which was
sent as a present to Geysa I, king of Hungary, who died in 1077.
In this list the famous ‘iron’ crown of Monza holds the first place,
being, in fact, an ample golden fillet richly decorated with enamels,
and containing within it a narrow hoop of iron, which is reputed to
have been made of a nail from the Cross.
The fourth place in this catalogue is assigned by M. Labarte to the
Alfred Jewel, and by this classification it is referred to a Byzantine
source. But as it is plain from the matter as well as the manner of
his description that his acquaintance with the Jewel is second-hand,
we pass over this local element, while we accept his classification so
far as it refers to structural affinities.
In the spring of 1839, during some excavations in Thames Street,
was discovered a fibula which happily passed straightway into the
hands of Mr. Roach Smith, and he wrote a memoir upon it which may
be seen in the _Archæologia_ for 1840, accompanied with a splendid
illustration in colour and gold. It contains a bust in cloison-work
enamel, and invites comparison with our Jewel more than any of those
in the above list, probably more than any other extant specimen. It
is now in the British Museum. Both the figure and the filigree are
of superior workmanship to the Alfred Jewel, as if it were a later
and more refined product of the same school. A French critic calls it
Byzantine, and assigns it to the eleventh century[19].
So far about other extant specimens of enamel _cloisonnée_. This
species of enamel rises like an island out of the broad level of the
enamel _champlevée_, in which the plate was prepared for the vitreous
deposit by scooping the pattern upon it. To this common method belong
the older and more rudimentary enamels of the British horse-gear,
correctly described by Philostratus, who will be quoted below. To
this belong also the late enamels, for which during the thirteenth
century Limoges was famous.
The history of the art of enamelling is very imperfectly known, and
the paucity of extant specimens makes the investigation the more
difficult. The canvas upon which these pictures were laid consisted of
plates of the precious metals, the smaller works being laid upon gold
or silver, the larger on copper. As a natural consequence it happened
that as soon as they were antiquated or had served their turn, they
were lightly cast into the melting-pot, save where they were protected
by some peculiar veneration.
Hence it has come to pass that a favourite art of the Dark and Middle
Ages, which we have reason to believe was for centuries very prolific
(until it was superseded by the increased vigour of painting and
sculpture in the fourteenth century), is now represented by a few
specimens only, and its history is hard to retrace. I shall make no
attempt to supply this want, and shall only rehearse a few interesting
facts which the present investigation has brought to my knowledge.
Origins I leave to specialists: but this I may say, that such evidence
as the present enquiry has brought within the circle of my observation
seems to suggest a Keltic source for the Enamel in our Jewel.
The earliest mention of enamel to which we can confidently point
is found in the book of Philostratus entitled _Pictures_ (Icones,
Εἰκόνες). This author was a Greek rhetorician and connoisseur in
Art, who came to Rome (A.D. 200) in the reign of Severus, attracted
by the Court of Julia Domna, who (in the words of Gibbon) was the
patroness of every art and the friend of every man of genius. In his
_Icones_ he makes pictures the text of his elegant and fashionable
discourse. Whether his pictures were real or imaginary is a matter of
no consequence to our present purpose. The picture in which we are
interested is one that represents a Meet for a Boar-hunt. The writer
comments upon the well-equipped company, the horses and their riders,
in the splendour of their get-up for the sport, drawing special
attention to the curiosity and costliness of their horse-trappings.
Their bits are silvern, and their head-stalls are decorated with gold
and enamelled colours. For the production of these colours it is
said that ‘the barbarians who dwell in the ocean do smelt them upon
heated copper, and that in cooling they do set and harden and keep the
design[20].’
It has been questioned who are meant by the barbarians in the ocean.
Modern French writers have generally applied it to the Gauls; but
Olearius, the editor of Philostratus (1709), understood the Keltic
peoples; and certainly the expression appears more applicable to the
British Isles than to Gaul. Moreover, it is in Britain, and not in
Gaul, that enamelled horse-trappings have been found. Some of these
may be seen in the Ashmolean, and more in the British Museum.
‘The antiquities discovered at Stanwick in Yorkshire, Polden Hill in
Somersetshire, Saham Toney in Norfolk, Westhall in Suffolk, and at
Middleby in Annandale, Scotland, which are all of Celtic workmanship,
consist principally of bits and portions of horse-furniture of various
kinds which have preserved, in many cases, the enamel with which they
were decorated[21].’
The Romans or Romanized populations continued the practice of this
art, and from the evidence of the finds that occur from time to time
it appears probable that some of the finest specimens were made in
Britain. A large flat plate, representing an altar, which was found
in London and is now in the British Museum, has all the appearance
of being unfinished. A curious cup, which was found at Rudge in
Wiltshire, has round it the names of five of the towns on the Roman
Wall. And this specimen appears, by peculiarities of workmanship, to
be nearly related to the beautiful vase which was found in a tumulus
on the Bartlow Hills, in Essex, where it seems to have been deposited
after the time of Hadrian. And if the Saxon invasions of the fifth
and sixth centuries did, as it is thought, obliterate all traces of
this art in the other parts of the west, this could only have had the
effect of making the practice of it peculiar to Ireland; and the
Irish were not a stay-at-home race, neither did they hide their gifts
from other people.
There is a Keltic aspect in the enamelled designs which was remarked
by Franks, and which may have accompanied the tradition of this art
even when it passed out of Keltic hands[22].
In short, all the indications which this enquiry has brought to my
notice concerning the technical history of our Enamel do seem to
localize it in the British Isles. At a later stage of this chapter
we shall be met by evidence of a different kind, tending in the same
direction.
II
THE INWARD SIGNIFICATION OF THE FIGURE, AND OF THE ENGRAVING AT
THE BACK OF IT
About the signification of this Figure the conjectures have been
diverse, but they have all agreed in recognizing the two sceptres as
the characterizing attribute. Hickes, in his first interpretation,
thought that the _icuncula_ represented the glorified Saviour with a
lily sceptre in either hand, denoting his twofold realm of heaven and
earth: or else the pontiff of Rome as his vicegerent wielding both
the temporal and the spiritual power. Afterwards, however, when he
had read in pseudo-Ingulph the story of St. Cuthbert’s appearance to
Alfred, and had contemplated in the Lichfield Book the figure of St.
Luke (seemingly, but not really two-sceptered), he was moved to think
that the _icuncula_ represented a saint, and was, perhaps, meant for
St. Cuthbert[23].
I think Hickes was right in his first interpretation, and especially
in the second member of his alternative, wherein he referred it to the
pope. In the ninth century the thought of Christ was easily blended
with that of his vicegerent upon earth: and it is plain that the
Figure is arrayed in precisely those insignia which best represent the
dominant thought of the papacy at that epoch. The two sceptres aptly
symbolize the claim and aspiration of the Western hierarchy during
those very years which Alfred spent in Rome.
Leo IV, the pontiff who welcomed the princely boy to Rome, had
already, as the organizer of victory over the Saracens, done much to
prepare the exaltation of the Roman See. Many causes conspired to
the same result. This was just the moment when the famous Decretals
were ready to start upon their triumphant career. A first display of
their working was seen in 858, when the novel solemnity of coronation
was added to the consecration of Nicholas I. And, as I apprehend the
course of events, this falls within the period of Alfred’s sojourn at
Rome.
Not long after this the surprizing spectacle was seen of the pope on
horseback, and the emperor on foot walking by his side and holding his
bridle as he rode. This pontiff gave commands to kings and ruled over
them as lord of the whole world; and he actually realized his ambition
of making all secular power subject to the papacy.
He claimed the subjection of all national churches to the bishop of
Rome. He decreed, in 866, that no archbishop might be enthroned or
might consecrate the eucharist, until he had received the _pallium_
from the Roman pontiff.
There was much in the conditions of the time and in his own experience
to cause Alfred to view these things wholly on their favourable side.
The enamelled head is probably not meant for a portrait of Leo IV or
any particular pope, but we can hardly be mistaken if we interpret it
as a symbolical figure to represent the papal authority as the vicar
and vicegerent of Christ.
And if this be a true solution of the problematical _icuncula_, there
is yet something more which we naturally desire to know. We naturally
inquire about the composition of the symbol, of what elements is it
made up, and from what source did the suggestion come?
[Illustration: ILLUMINATION FROM THE ‘BOOK OF KELLS.’]
In the Library of Trinity College, Dublin, is preserved a very famous
book, known as the _Book of Kells_, a monument of Irish learning and
art in that period when Ireland most justly earned the glorious title
of ‘Insula Sanctorum.’ One of the full-page illuminations which adorn
that book represents a scene of the Temptation, in which Jesus is on
the pinnacle and Satan is near. Such is the action represented:
but besides the action the same picture conveys also a reflection
or comment upon the action. Lower down, and more in the body of the
building, there is a window at which is seen a majestic personage
holding a sceptre in either hand, which leans and rests on either
shoulder. At first sight the effect is quaint, bizarre, and puzzling;
but a little attention makes all plain. It becomes clear that a
contrast is intended between the humiliation and the triumph of the
Christ; and perhaps also, by the association of ideas which the last
two verses of St. Matthew’s Gospel have made familiar, to suggest the
duty (zealously discharged by the early Irish Church) of missionary
devotion. No one who has given time and thought to this picture can
doubt that the two-sceptered figure is Christ. Here is no question
of the pontiff of Rome. In the seventh century, to which the _Book
of Kells_ is assigned, the papal claims were not admitted, much less
glorified, by those of the Scotian rite. Therefore the interpretation
of that Irish picture is quite simple, and it represents the glorified
Christ inhabiting his temple and looking out over his Church as Lord
of heaven and earth[24].
Though we know only of a single extant copy of this picture, we may
confidently assume that among the manifold activities of the monks and
hermits and missionaries and pilgrims from Ireland it was multiplied
and disseminated. It is (I think) impossible to compare our Figure
of the ninth century with that of the seventh, without coming to the
conclusion that the one is a descendant of the other. We need not be
incredulous about the chance of Alfred’s being acquainted with Irish
iconography. The narrative in the Chronicle (Ā. 891) of three
Irish exiles who found their way to king Alfred, reflects a valuable
light on his kindly relations with the learned and pious from the
sister island. This connexion was neither new nor immature. When they
found themselves ashore on the coast of Cornwall they set out ‘at
once’—such is the effect of SONA—for king Alfred[25].
Moreover, the Irish picture furnishes a welcome light upon an obscure
detail of our enamelled Figure. How are the heads of the sceptres to
be explained? Some have taken them for palms, and others for lilies,
but the Irish drawing shows them rather as plumes. And this finds
support in a singular passage of Bede’s _Ecclesiastical History_.
Speaking of Oswald the Bretwalda, Bede describes him as a prince who
carefully upheld his imperial dignity, insomuch that, not only when
he rode through his provinces did his standard go before him, but
even when he walked forth in the streets he was always preceded by
an apparitor bearing the Tufa, which (he adds) was in the vernacular
called Tuuf. We learn from Du Cange that the Tufa was a wand with a
head of plumes, and this is what we see in the sceptres of the Irish
drawing. Sir Francis Palgrave divined that the Saxon Bretwaldadom had
inherited this emblem of authority from the provincial dignitaries of
the empire.
From these data the natural conclusion is that the Figure in this
Jewel was derived from an Irish, and not from an Oriental, nor from
any continental source. It was taken from an Irish symbolical drawing
of Christ triumphant and reigning over his Church, and it was adapted
by the king in a sense which his experience had made real and concrete
and practical. As Chaucer was called ‘grand translateur,’ so we may
call Alfred a grand adapter. Whoever has been drawn in to study both
Alfred and Dante may have observed this in common to the two, that
what they borrow they transfigure, their touch imparts to it the
colour of their mind. King Alfred in early youth was tied by every
thread of religious conviction and political interest and personal
sentiment to the See of Rome, and he meant this Jewel to enshrine
the frontispiece of his profession and the ensign of his creed
ecclesiastical, political, and personal.
At the close of the former section I said that the conclusion there
arrived at would be confirmed by another kind of evidence in the
sequel. Up to that point the argument had run upon the technical
aspects of our enamelled Figure, and these had seemed to indicate the
British Isles as its native region. Since that stage our argument has
turned upon the conception and pedigree of the device; and here again
we find that an insular rather than a foreign source is indicated.
Further evidence, pointing in the same direction, will be advanced
before the close of the present chapter[26].
* * * * *
At the back of this Enamel there is a gold plate which serves the
same purpose as a backboard to a picture, and it is secured by an
overlapping undulating border of gold. In the Minster Lovel jewel this
member consists of a blank gold plate, but in the Alfred Jewel this
surface is occupied with an engraving which is certainly allegorical.
At first sight it seems to be no more than a decorated pattern made
upon the idea of a tree with branches and blossoms and fruit[27]. But
upon closer inspection this tree appears to be a sword with its point
buried in a human heart, and when this is discovered it becomes plain
that the branches and blossoms must be allegorical.
A sword with its point planted in a human heart may mean compunction
for sin and mortification of the natural man; it may also mean
resignation in adversity to the overruling providence of God. Such a
disposition of mind is productive of flowers and fruit, that is, of
conduct which is beautiful and profitable, and (on great occasions)
of action which is heroic. This mode of symbolical expression may be
seen in the figure of St. Luke in St. Chad’s Book at Lichfield. The
Evangelist holds in his right hand a pen, the feathery part of which
branches out into flowers and fruit, to signify the fruitful nature of
the writings of St. Luke[28].
These are the obvious meanings of such a symbolical device, and this
being so, it plainly results that the Figure and its back-plate are
united by correlation of thought. The enamelled Figure is the symbol
of religion in its ecclesiastical and political aspect; the engraved
plate represents the inward disposition of the heart, the root and
fount of personal religion. The former is of the nature of a public
profession, and as such is openly displayed to view; the latter is
reserved, out of sight, facing the wall.
III
A CONSTRUCTIVE INFERENCE
And this raises a consideration to which I invite careful attention.
These two pictures, the one enamelled, the other engraved, are
complementary the one to the other; they are two parts of one design,
and as such they combine to declare the unity of thought which
locks together the composition and fabric of this Jewel into one
constructive whole. And this observation, once verified and clearly
apprehended, must henceforth exclude the theory of Sir Francis
Palgrave which explained this Jewel as being derived from two diverse
sources in the following manner:—
‘Alfred’s Jewel, in the mechanical workmanship of the metallic
portion, offers a close resemblance to the Icelandic ornaments, now
made in the island, where the mode has probably continued by usage
from the most remote periods. The enamel within, on the other hand,
resembles some ornaments of the Carlovingian era now existing on the
continent, which have been generally considered as Oriental. The head
at the extremity of the ornament is extremely like what is found in
those architectural ornaments usually called Saxon, e. g. the porch of
St. Margaret’s at York. Whether St. Neot be the personage represented
in the enamel I rather doubt; and I think it possible that the enamel
itself was brought from the continent, and that the setting only was
made in England. This would reconcile the two styles of workmanship;
the metallic portion is unquestionably Anglo-Saxon, the enamel may be
supposed to be from another country. But altogether it is one of the
most curious relics of the kind; and no one, taking all the points of
evidence together, can reasonably doubt but that it did belong to king
Alfred.’
This is copied from the Ashmolean Catalogue, 1836 (p. 138), the work
of Mr. Philip Duncan, or rather perhaps of the two brothers, John and
Philip Duncan, both Fellows of New College, and successively Keepers
of the Ashmolean Museum, men famous in their generation for their
zeal in promoting all that was good and generous and beautiful; and
graced, both of them, with a strong and manly beauty worthy to support
the nobility of their character and set it forth to the best advantage.
I take the above to be an extract from a letter to one of the brothers
in answer to enquiries addressed to Sir Francis Palgrave, asking
his opinion about the Jewel, and especially whether he thought the
evidence warranted the conclusion that it had really belonged to the
great king of Wessex. The answer has a peculiar value, because of
the firm judgement it supplies upon the main problem. The deliberate
opinion of the most competent authority of the time upon this point
is of permanent value. Of a different nature is the other part of his
answer, in which he embarked upon a bold antiquarian diagnosis, and
broached his dualistic theory. This solution was accepted at the time
as furnishing a solid basis for the interpretation of the Jewel, and
it has held its ground ever since.
This new hypothesis gave satisfaction on three grounds: first, in
that it accounted for the quaintness of the Figure as being probably
Byzantine or Oriental; secondly, in that it lightened the burden of
credit demanded for our insular jewellers of the ninth century; and
thirdly, because it squared so well with the accredited fact that
Alfred did receive presents from foreign potentates. On all these
grounds the dual hypothesis of Sir Francis Palgrave gave general
satisfaction and seemed to be absolutely final.
For myself, I adopted it as the pivot of my interpretation, and as
such I used it in the last lecture I gave on the subject, which was
in May, 1899. But now at length, by the wider and more searching
investigation which has been required in the preparation of this
Essay, I have satisfied myself that all the parts of this composite
work are bound together by a unity of thought which manifests the
effort of a single mind.
All available testimony indicates that this was none other than the
mind of king Alfred. In support of this broad assertion I will here
bring forward a new illustration from the original writings of the
king. When he had translated the _Pastoral Care_ he furnished it with
a prologue and an epilogue, both in verse: the prologue is given
above, in the second of these chapters; the epilogue is quoted here.
It illustrates his love of figure and symbol, and his aptness for the
development of a train of allegorical thought:
Ðis is nu se wæterscipe This is now the watering
ðe us wereda God which the world’s Creator
to frofre gehêt for refreshment promised
fold buendum. us who till the field.
He cwæð ðæt he wolde He said it was his will
ðæt on worulde forð that in the world
thenceforth
of ðæm innoðum out of the inward soul
â libbendu wætru fleowen waters aye enduring flow
ðe wel ón hine gelifden under of loyal believers under heaven.
lyfte.
Is hit lytel tweo There is little doubt
ðæt ðæs wæterscipes that of this watering
welsprynge is the well-spring is
on hefonrice; in the heavenly kingdom;
ðæt is Halig Gast. for it is the Holy Ghost.
Ðonan hine hlodan From that fountain fetched it
halge and gecorene, faithful men elect,
siððan hine gierdon and at length ’twas guided
ða ðe Gode herdon by hearers of God
ðurh halgan bêc through holy books
hider on eorðan hither on earth
geond manna môd men’s minds to pervade
missenlice. in manners diverse.
Sume hine weriað on gewitlocan Some warily keep in memory’s
ward
wisdomes stream welerum wisdom’s stream with closed
gehæftað lips
ðæt he on unnyt so that it fruitlessly
ût ne to fleoweð: flows not away:
ac se wæl wunað but the brooklet bideth
ón weres breostum in the man’s breast
ðurh Dryhtnes giefe through divine grace
diop and stille. deep and still.
Sume hine lætað Some let it at large
ofer landscare over the land
riðum torinnan. in rillets wide-running.
Nis ðæt rædlic ðing, Good rede is it not
gif swa hlutor wæter if water so lucid
hlud and undiop run shallow and loud
tofloweð æfter foldum flowing free over fields
oð hit to fenne werð. and turning to fen.
Ac hladað iow nu drincan But draw now for your drinking
nu iow Dryhten now that your Lord
geaf ðæt iow Gregorius Gregorius to you gave,
gegiered hafað and he hath guided
to durum iowrum to your doors
Dryhtnes welle. the spring divine.
Fylle nu his fætels, Fill each man now his vessel,
se ðe fæstne heder if sound it be,
kylle brohte: the pail he brought:
cume eft hræðe. come back for more anon.
Gif her ðegna hwelc If any lording here
ðyrelne kylle a leaky pail
brohte to ðys burnan, brought to this burn,
bête hine georne, make boot with zealous fear,
ðylæs he forsceade lest he should spill
scirost wætra, the sparkling water,
oððe him lifes drync or of life’s drink
forloren weorðe. depart forlorn.
The diction of alliterative poetry has fallen out of use, and
consequently this illustration must labour under the disadvantage of
being in a form unfamiliar to the general reader. Nevertheless, with
a little attention, the essential point will become plain. The royal
translator had been refreshed and invigorated with the lucid stream
of Gregory’s discourse, and at the moment of parting with a beloved
task he sought to relieve his full-fraught soul with a grateful
burst of eulogy. Out of all the topics that were appropriate to the
occasion he chose the perennial water of life promised at the well of
Samaria, and upon this noble theme he expatiated with a fertility of
invention which makes it the easier for us to attribute to him the
rich symbolism of the Alfred Jewel.
* * * * *
And now to gather up the results of this chapter. We have found more
than one reason to think that our Enamel was an insular, and not a
continental product. This conclusion was reached by two different
paths, first when we were tracing the technical history of the
fabrication, and again when we were seeking the spiritual meaning of
the design; by these two widely different lines of evidence we were
led severally and independently to infer a British rather than a
foreign origin for the Figure[29].
This inference was further confirmed by a third evidential process,
arising out of the sympathy of meaning which appears to unite the
enamelled Figure with the engraved device upon its back-plate. This
led us to question the long-established doctrine of duality of origin
which rested upon the authority of Sir Francis Palgrave, and to infer
that the whole composition of the Jewel had been projected and devised
by a single mind.
Finally, we found reason to think that all these features harmonized
well with the mind and character of a person with whose name the Jewel
is already connected by the Epigraph; and if anything was yet wanting
to complete the identification of that person, it seems to be supplied
by certain traces of inward affinity between the symbolism of the
Jewel and that of the epilogue to the translation of the _Pastoral
Care_, one of the surest monuments of the mind of king ALFRED.
[16] For the etymology: _enamel_ is a compound of the simple
_amel_, which is now obsolete. This was an anglicized form of
French _émail_, which in Old French was _esmal_, whose cognates
were Provençal _esmalt_, Spanish and Portuguese _esmalte_, Italian
_smalto_ (used by Dante), which, in medieval Latin, was _smaltum_.
The source is Old High German *_smaltjan_, our verb _to smelt_,
i.e. to fuse by heat (New English Dictionary, v. AMEL).
[17] It is figured in the _Dictionary of Christian Antiquities_, v.
Crown.
[18] These eight plates have been reproduced by M. de Linas in his
_Histoire du Travail à l’Exposition universelle de 1867_, p. 125.
[19] _Notice des Émaux, &c., du Musée du Louvre_, par M. de
Laborde, 1857, p. 99.
[20] Philostratus, _Icones_, i. 28:—the horsemen are described
as—ἀργυροχάλινοι καὶ στικτοὶ καὶ χρυσοῖ τὰ φάλαρα. Ταῦτά φασι τὰ
χρώματα τοὺς ἐν ὠκεανῷ βαρβάρους ἐγχεῖν τῷ χαλκῷ διαπύρῳ, τὰ δὲ
συνίστασθαι καὶ λιθοῦσθαι, καὶ σώζειν ἃ ἐγράφη.
[21] Augustus W. Franks, ‘Vitreous Art,’ p. 14 in _Art Treasures of
the United Kingdom_, a book which was brought out in connexion with
the Manchester Exhibition of 1857.
[22] Mr. Arthur Evans recognizes a Keltic physiognomy in the eyes
of the _icuncula_; but for me the eyes are as if they were not,
being so much sunk out of their place, that through infirmity of
sight I am unable to verify them.
[23] Appendix B.
[24] Appendix C.
[25] And þa comon hi ymb vii niht to londe on Cornwalum, and foron
þa sona to Ælfrede cyninge.
[26] For the Irish illumination above referred to I have relied
upon _Facsimiles of Miniatures and Ornaments of Anglo-Saxon and
Irish Manuscripts_. By J. O. Westwood. London, 1868. Plate XI.
[27] ‘The back, or reverse, is a plate of gold lying immediately
upon the back of the miniature, and this is beautifully worked
in foliage.’ Llewellynn Jewitt, F.S.A., in the _Reliquary_ for
October, 1878: vol. xx, p. 66.
[28] Here I follow the old copy of this drawing in Hickes’s
_Thesaurus_ (1705) facing p. viij.
[29] Appendix D.