The Jewel and the crown

At this year's Quest convention I am planning to speak a little bit about prophecy and the way that not just the forthcoming millenium but also the previous 'Age of Pisces' was forshadowed in the sky. However, not all the world's mysteries are on this sort of cosmic scale. There are many small objects and items that have come down to us from the past that indicate knowledge that we have somehow lost over the intervening centuries.

In 1693 at Newton Park near Athelney in Somerset, was found one of the most curious archaeological finds ever to come to light on British soil: a strange jewel. It is quite small, pear shaped and only two and a half inches long by one and half at its greatest width and half an inch in depth. It has a gold frame enclosing a piece of transparent rock crystal, which is laid over a delicate piece of cloisonné enamel work. This depicts a man holding what looks to be two, leafy wands, joined together by what seems to be a loop. On the reverse side of the jewel is a gold plate engraved with a design that seems to represent a 'Tree of Life'. This is drawn in such a stylised way that it also seems to represent a fountain. At the narow end of the jewel is a gold extension which represents an animal's head, probably that of a boar. From its mouth issues a small tube with a gold pin passing through it, which would seem to indicate that at one time the jewel was attached from here to some kind of rod.

Around the sides of the jewel is a bezel consisting of open gold lettering which reads: "Aelfred mec heht gewyrcan". This is old Anglo-Saxon and translates into modern English as 'Alfred had me made'. Given this inscription, the location of the find, its obvious value in terms of both materials and craftsmanship and, judging by its style, its likely date of manufacture, there seems little doubt that it was made for Alfred the Great, King of Wessex from 871-899. Accordingly, this object, whose function and purpose remain a mystery, is known as the Alfred Jewel and is now kept in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.

Ever since it was found there has been much deliberation and speculation as to its purpose, which close examination reveals to be of more than superficial interest. Perhaps because I live near Shaftesbury, a town with strong Alfred connections, I have found myself particularly drawn to it. He was of course the king of Wessex who famously burnt some cakes whilst travelling in disguise and staying with a pig-farmer at Athelney Island near Glastonbury in Somerset. According to the tale the farmer's wife, not knowing who he was, chided him for letting the cakes burn whilst she was engaged in other duties. Thus one possible, though unlikely, explanation is that the cloisonné figure represents Alfred himself in the act of pulling the cakes out of an oven with the aid of two sticks. According to this view, the jewel was a pendant he subsequently had made to remind him not to be so careless in the future. An alternative explanation is that it was the tip of some sort of sceptre. However, the most popular explanation, and the one repeated in most books referring to the jewel is that it was part of an æstel.

The case for this is quite strong. There is a somewhat similar object, also in the Ashmolean Museum, known as the Minster Lovell Jewel after the village where it was found. This jewel, though round rather than pear shaped and neither as elaborate nor as large as the one from Somerset, is of somewhat similar construction. Instead of a figure, it features a cloisonné, round-armed Anglian cross indicating that it had some connection with the church. Now King Alfred, as well as being a great general and administrator was also an extremely devout Christian. In the Preface to his Cura Pastoralis he records that he sent each of his bishops an æstel and it has therefore been surmised that the Minster Lovell Jewel was one of these. According to the records, each of the æstels he sent was worth 50 mancuses and as one mancus equalled six shillings, this translates to 300 shillings each. To get some idea of what this meant, the wergild (the amount due under Anglo-Saxon law to the relatives of a murdered man) was only 200 shillings for a commoner and 600 for a nobleman. Æstels, then, were valuable objects and it is not surprising that Alfred gave strict instructions that they were to be kept safely. But the question remains, what were they for?

According to the standard explanation, an æstel was a pointing device, used by readers to follow along a line of text when reading from the Bible. If so, this seems a remarkable piece of extravagance on Alfred's part when a simple slip of wood or even a finger could have done the job just as effectively. The design on the Alfred Jewel of a man (it has been suggested that he is actually meant to be Christ) holding or rather collecting sticks of wood, has been interpreted as a metaphor for accumulating wisdom. This seems to me to be a rather far-fetched explanation, no doubt thought up to give religious significance to what on the face of it looks to have been a secular piece of art. In my opinion it is more likely that he represents Alfred himself. He is not a mere wood-gatherer though, allegorical or otherwise and it is clear that the stick he is holding, (there is really only one, though it is joined at the bottom) looks like a withy or stick of willow. Willow still grows abundantly on the Somerset levels, where it is used for basket weaving. However, this is not its only use, for willow is also the best wood for making a a water divining-rod. From his posture and expression, which indicate intense concentration, it is clear that this is exactly what the figure on the jewel is engaged in: divination.

The Anglo-Saxon word æstel is derived from the Latin stilus meaning a sharp, pointed instrument for writing on wax tablets. From either stilus or æstel is derived the English word 'style' for the indicator or 'finger' on a sundial which should be orientated in such a way that it points towards the north star. As it seems likely that the Alfred Jewel once had a small rod protruding from the jaws of the animal head, it is possible that it was used as a portable sundial, a sort of Dark-Age pocket-watch. However, given the arcane nature of the imagery, it seems more likely that it was itself part of a divination device. Suspended on a leather thong, with a rod of the correct length to counter-balance the weight of the main body of the jewel clamped in the jaws, it could have been used as an elaborate pendulum. If this were the case, the fact that the body of the jewel was made of rock crystal may also have been significant, for under certain circumstances it can generate electric potential. In this context, the fact that the back and bezel of the jewel was made of gold, and this metal is an extremely good conductor of electricity, may also have been important.

All ths may seem far fetched but in the Bible we have an account of how the high priests of Israel used a possibly similar divination device called the "Urim and Thummim". How this worked is not clear but seems to have involved holding a pendulum over a 'breastplate' containing twelve precious stones. The full description of how the breastplate was to be made is contained in the Book of Exodus. It is specially made for Aaron, the brother of Moses and is treated with great reverence, for like the Ark of the Covenant it had special, occult powers of communication. Without seeing the Urim and Thummim in action we can only guess as to how they worked, probably like an Ouija board, the different stones signifying either letters or numbers. Urim means 'lights' and Thummim 'perfection'. So perhaps the different coloured stones in the breastplate lit up or shone as the appropriate crystal resonated to an electrically-charged pendulum that was held above the shield. In this way they could spell out words and enable the high priest to obtain messages from the beyond.

Of course we have no evidence that the Alfred Jewell was anything more than an ornament but it is tempting to think that it was part of such a device. If this is the case then the aestels issued by Alfred to his bishops were not mere pointers for reading the text of the Bible but tools for divination with a pedigree going back to Aaron. The question remains, however, where did Alfred learn of such a technology? We will probably never know the answer for sure but the finger must point towards Wales where for centuries a very different form of Christianity was practiced from that we know today. That, however, is another story!

Article first published in "Quest" magazine Vol.1 issue 6.

© Adrian G. Gilbert 1997.