Wednesday 20 March 2024

Medieval Censer — Close Focus

My customary trawl through PAS records of similar finds to those I'm currently researching, turned up a surprisingly small quantity of actual censers or fragments thereof. There are a handful of fragments of them recorded and just the one complete hemisphere. 

Mostly, those items I viewed in these searches were items dubbed 'lamp hangers' and as backup, possibly 'censer hangers'. All possessed three suspension points for chains.

Censers of the middle Ages usually have four attachment points for chains but rarely three.  However, as mentioned, there is an example of a complete lid from Shropshire, England and this does indeed possess a complement of just three suspension lugs, and the British Museum keeps a complete Scandinavian example with the same arrangement, and so I suppose that 'censer hanger' may be correct in some cases.

It was a pretty fruitless search until I discovered the one intriguing item — certainly part of a censer — that did indeed seem to share some features with my own ~

Even extreme magnification does not help much here... 

This rim fragment from Mundham, Norfolk, has what looks to be a very similar style of incised decoration. Alas, there is not much information here to work with. Regretfully, it is in a parlous state, and I cannot work out much from what I can see of it. There is a band of running sinuous decoration at bottom for sure and what look to be the starting points of two semi-circular lines that may have formed complete semi-circular fields. 

Between these and above the suspension lug are four vertical lines that may have formed plant fronds or similar. To the right is geometrical decoration that is just too incomplete and unclear to comment on. The broken edges are so corroded and abraded that any traces of perforations are quite impossible to spot.

It's a shame that it is so badly preserved, but still, it is the closest English parallel I have yet found and it hails from a place not remotely distant from Mid-Essex...

This piece also shows me exactly what one of the suspension lugs of an 'English' censer would have looked like. This is of some use because my fragment does not possess one. It shows that it was cast integrally and not soldered or riveted on afterwards, as with many continental examples. 

As I am making a reconstruction of what may actually be an English production (its vigorous and unusual 'regional' decorative style is very suggestive of this possibility) rather than a French, German, or even Scandinavian import — I will certainly incorporate this detail.

Condition and its importance ~
I'd rather work a slow field that yields occasional finds in copper alloys but in excellent condition, than a fast and furious one where everything copper-based is shot through with corrosion. On such fields as those, you are going to have to be content with precious metal items, if there are enough there to make the exercise worthwhile.

Luckily, this piece (from a dead slow field) arrived in my hand in such great condition that really close investigation reveals all kinds of tiny but crucial clues about its making... 

A worthwhile exercise indeed!



The incised decoration is so very sharp and clear. So much so, that I can see that the tool required to create it was a certain shape at the tip and was polished. I can be almost certain that the process employed was 'lost wax' because the incisions shine in a way that just would not occur by working into damp clay. The surface shows fine horizontal striations, which say that at one point in the process of the making of the object, it was either turned on a lathe or was gently coaxed into shape (likely, before decoration commenced) by turning in the hand.  


The reverse is also a real treat. It is simply packed full of information about manufacturing methods ~

1. You can see that wax was laid or painted to a thickness of around 2mm, onto a fairly roughly finished core — probably of traditional loam, (pronounced. 'loom') which is clay and sand mixed with horse dung and/or straw. There are both incuse and relief traces of plant fibre (now in metal, of course) preserved in the casting. 

2. The windows were cast 'blind' so that a thin film of metal remained that was later punched through and the rough edges were folded backwards into the interior. 

3. There's many tiny incuse triangular tool marks which all align upwards. This really foxed me for a long time. They could not feasibly have been cast in unless the maker had applied tiny triangles of clay to the core and if they all face one direction then there is clear reason for this.

Eventually I tumbled that these have to be the sign of breaking out and removing the final remains of the fire-hardened core with an iron tool because these marks had been punched directly into cold metal. And the reason for the single direction is also clear. The maker probably held the cast in his lap and worked the tool around the interior to clear what remained stuck fast,  hammering away as he went. 

Until I had studied and gained a little useful knowledge of the lost-wax method,  I just could not see this! 

Tuesday 19 March 2024

Medieval Censer — Drawing Early Conclusions

My work on a reconstruction effort commenced with very detailed examinations of the piece (utilising two pairs of reading glasses at once!) and then attempts at sketching out what I had theorised from the many clues I'd had at my disposal ~

It was laid upon a sheet of paper and then by carefully tracing around the perimeter with a sharp pencil I created an outline. The central keyhole-shaped window perforation was made by the same means, and then the curved line below it, imagined.

This was thought to have once been a complete semi-circle ~

The full semi-circle was made, a base line drawn across at bottom to represent the base of the upper cup and the basket-hatching within this drawn to entirely fill it.

The remains of a small circular perforation seen at bottom right was also drawn but this made no sense to me because it was off-centre. That it was indeed a hole and not merely a rather regular fracture was confirmed with my powerful eyeglass combination. It had been cast and possessed clear tooling marks that made this certain.

This apparently odd feature completely foxed me at the time...

Next, I drew in the rest of the decoration and as accurately as possible extended the fronds of the plant at left to the baseline. This exercise in such quick sketches was repeated many times until some genuine clarity began to emerge. Eventually, I decided to create a flat plan of the piece as best I could.

Then I had something of a clearer picture…

At middle and to the middle of right is what information I actually have and to the left what I imagine to have been the case. A band of zig-zags (or continuous sinuous line) at the base of the upper cup (and also top of lower cup) are motifs common to many such censers. The fragment possesses zig-zags between the stories of windows and I see no reason why this should not have been repeated below. 


The various perforations were thought to be repeating elements that would have continued around the entire circumference as too were the incised decorative elements.

Reference to other complete censers confirmed this could be the case. Many of the 'globular' type — which by now I suspected this example to have been — are decorated with semi-circular fields on the upper cup and whenever they are, without exception these repeat four times around the entire circumference and meet at the points of the four suspension lugs

Furthermore, in some cases (though not all) the number of 'windows' may be regular because a few of these globular 'pear-shaped' censers seemed in photographs of them, to possess the same quantity...

At least, it was true that there were most often two stories of windows, one above the other. The lower story usually possessing keyhole-shaped perforations, the upper always circular ones. And, when viewed as a photograph it was only possible to see five or six lower windows and four upper windows. I reckoned that perhaps this could mean a total of twelve lower story windows and ten top story windows. 

Without attempting an actual physical reconstruction, I could not tell if this fragment when repeated around a circumference, that as yet I could only guess but not confirm with accuracy, would show such numbers. 



Tuesday 12 March 2024

Medieval Censer — The Complete Fragment

Fragments of Medieval bronze vessels were fairly frequent finds during my metal-detecting forays into central Essex. Most fields held one or two pieces if there had been activity there during the Medieval period, which in the areas that I was searching meant absolutely because I cannot remember anywhere that had not. 

Broken up cooking pots of various shapes and sizes — not decorated in any way but identifiable as chunks of cauldrons or skillets by their regular wall thickness and curvature. Occasionally a cauldron foot would be found. I thought that the most exciting thing to discover in this class of find would have been the anthropomorphic or zoomorphic handle ear from a chafing dish or the spout from a ewer but I never did find either one of those. 

Typical bronze vessel finds — a foot and a large body fragment found in close proximity to one another but probably not from the same cauldron. 

I always liked to find these mundane items. Not because they held any great value as objects in their own right but because other more interesting things would surely follow them.

I also wondered ~ 

"Why were there were so many of them?" 

"Why never was a second fragment of the same pot ever found?"

I concluded that such pieces of scrap metal were destined eventually to join the Medieval non-ferrous metal pool, but in the meantime were in circulation and likely used as currency in sub-farthing level exchanges. 

They were valuable. Maybe a loaf of bread valuable?

They were also exactly as commonplace as were finds of medieval coinage...

Actual size = 57.5 x 39.5mm

Then, one day, I was out and about on what had always proven to be a quiet and quite dull field. However, it was one that I thought held some promise — even though it never seemed to want to fulfil it! 

Once again, I turned up yet another boring bronze vessel fragment. However, on closer inspection I could make out decorations of odd sorts and when the clods of earth were broken away the centre fell out revealing a rather familiar looking keyhole-shaped hole. 

This incised decor — when I began to appreciate it — was truly fascinating! 

I had never seen anything like it before — have seen nothing quite like it since! 

All kinds of strange squiggles, zig-zags and hatchings and even plant fronds with neat little leaves. I just thought it a strange, strangle thing, and sat there in the dirt for a long time trying to fathom it ~ 

After a while I came to my senses and firmly decided there and then, that this was indeed a piece of something very interesting, and probably a very rare discovery… 

A Medieval censer, no less!

Enamelled censer from Limoges, France. 


The piece lay in my small collection of ‘Top Drawer Medieval’ for many years until just recently when I decided to reconstruct as best I could, a few of my incomplete or damaged finds.  I've made a start with some easier projects which have turned out well. 

This will not be easy — I know it. However, it will be a treat because what I think is remarkable about this fragment is its completeness! 

Little seems to be missing in the way of information...

I reckon that by closely studying the sheer wealth of invaluable clues contained in its shapes and forms, that it would be that rare fragment that perhaps I could possibly reconstruct as almost an entire object. 

It would take a great deal of homework and graft, but… 

I'd set out to try! 


Sunday 24 September 2023

Medieval Roundel — A Narrowing Down of Possibilities


My hunt for parallels for this tricky to identify object, and especially those that were indeed horse trappings, led to period pony armour and strap fitments. 

The little spikes that I'd seen depicted on the heads of horses in illustrations of medieval jousters turned out to be part of the chanfron (or also spelled chaffron, chamfron, champion, chamfron, chamfrein, champron, and shaffron) — the armour that protected the head of the horse from the blow of the lance.

https://finds.org.uk/database/artefacts/record/id/856910

Then an extensive search of the Portable Antiquities Scheme Database threw up a number of period British roundels of similar large size. Almost all candidates were composite specimens with separate assembled parts but often with differing means of attachment to the host object.  

However, only a few examples shared many features in common with my own.

Above is an example that does. It hails from Surrey, and is very similar to the example from Essex mentioned in my previous post on this subject. It too is of three part construction—the faceplate and integral frame, backplate and single central rivet. All components are of copper alloy excepting the rivet which is iron.

The rest are listed here.

 
I think that these examples could all be separated into two classes by the means of attachment alone. Some have three or four rivet points arranged around the circumference, and others just the one at centre.


Now. 

'Host objects'? 

What they might have been is a matter for conjecture...

That they were attached is certain — but to what is not!

But means of attachment always helps somewhat. 

Egan and Pritchard in 'Medieval Dress Accessories' view these as either part of sword belts or as martingale brasses. A huge gap of confidence here and they cannot make their minds up and for unsurprising reasons...

No doubt, that in their narrowing down of possibilities, they had also viewed such confounding things as the period illustration above that shows us a number of alternative uses for our roundels. 

We have here the shaffron, the bridle bit, and the right arm and hand of the knight shown at right. 

All could have possessed roundels!

My instinct is that that those roundels we have seen here with multiple rivets (and often roves) were attached to flexible leather straps or belts, whilst those with a long single central rivet were attached through a solid metal plate or even a wooden plank.

In conclusion
My hunt for answers to the "what exactly is this" question has lead so far toward roundels that could be from various parts of horse or human armour or were a dress accessory — a knight's belt mount to be precise. However, that it was once 'attached' to a sentient being and not to a wooden object of some sort — a chest perhaps, or even a vehicle...?

Not even that is certain — as yet!

I have come across only the one British find of an unequivocal  'chamfrein'. and it argues with all the other candidates here for the title.  This definitely was from the horses head. It is really large — 8cm or so. My roundel is quite a large item and so are the others discussed here but this is simply huge by comparison with all of them and this fact must be taken into account.

Widworthy

Also, its construction is quite unlike the roundels discussed so far in this series. It is not nearly so elaborate or as fine as those. They are all jewellers work — but this is armourer or even blacksmith work. 

There's a piece of thin sheet metal that has been worked to form a circular plate with an octagonal decorative scheme of ridge and furrow — just like a partially folded umbrella.

There's a central conical boss, which, from the illustration above, seems to be soldered to two lengths of wire — though it may be one length bent double. And at reverse, a rove to securely fasten the piece to the head armour.

This British example (from Widworthy) is identical in form and construction to many continental examples, and especially those made in Italy. However, this particular form was not the only one in use. Other types, smaller and more compact, have been seen in my image trawling...

And so the search continues!


Walters Art Museum Italian example 






Tuesday 5 September 2023

Medieval Roundel — A Thames Foreshore Surprise.

Queenhithe Dock, City of London

Some years ago, I lived in London and in addition to being a hopeless detecting addict, I was also an avid Thames Mudlark. I specialised in searching the City stretches, and on these the most scoured areas of all, I never used a metal detector once. 

My sport there was strictly 'eyes only'. 

I guess I just loved beating tide, time and waiting for no man.

Everything but the seashells there were the ruined works of mankind. And that included my swanky West-End boots...

One of the key rules of 'eyes-only' searching is that you must investigate anything remotely interesting... 

Well, I was at Queenhithe Dock one day, and was chasing the tideline down as the water fell....

When,...

I saw in the mud and shingle, what looked like a unusually large iron washer! 

And of course, it was remotely interesting. 

And so I flipped it over... 

Diameter 53.7mm — thickness 7mm. The bright colour of the brass is known as 'Thames gilding'. It is not gilt though. The appearance is formed during a very long period of burial within a sealed matrix of oxygen free mud. Without oxygen (quickly used up entirely by microbes) oxidation, and therefore corrosion, cannot occur.

Mother! This was no washer!

It was pretty sizeable and quite heavy too. The metals were in an excellent state of preservation but unfortunately was crushed and mangled. 

Of Late-Medieval edging into early Post-Medieval date, no doubt.

Henry VIII...  

However, when I'd given it a tideline wash and examined the piece more closely I could see that it was work of the highest quality imaginable, was made by a very skilled craftsman indeed and would have cost a pretty penny to its long deceased owner. 

The face of the piece is formed from a single sheet of extremely thin brass. So very thin is it that I cannot accurately measure — but it is around the 0.2 mm mark and certainly no thicker. 
The backplate is a comparatively thick piece of slightly dished iron. 2mm thick perhaps. The techniques used in its creation were repoussé, chasing and embossing. Repoussé is the hammering of metal up from behind — chasing and embossing hammering down from the front. 

Expertly done the results can be astonishing. 

The design is not a Tudor rose, though it has some similarities to one of those. It reminds me of church windows of the earlier Medieval years. 

Let's call it a quatrefoil. 


PAS record Fingringhoe

My first thoughts were, "horse". I haver never doubted this. I thought that it may have fallen from harness and had been crushed by a cartwheel. Though the damage looks to be really severe, the forces required to damage such thin metal would not have been so very great, would they? 

As always, I went on a research bender...

The closest parallel that I found was another Medieval roundel from my home turf of Essex and near to my childhood Mersea Island paradise. The overall size is very similar and the technique of wrapping the edge of the brass over a backplate of iron identical. 

Also the backplate looks be dished and there's a long rivet like projection on the reverse. This does not however pass through the front plate as it does with the piece under scrutiny here.

Unfortunately, all I found at the time of discovery was the photo of it above which contained some useful information but not nearly enough. I could could not trace more. 

Jousters to the max! 1546 date. That's the ballpark...

It did look to be, perhaps, an item of armour. 

I went on a long, long hunt for an answer, trawling through entire manuals, manuscripts and pictorial accounts of knights and jousters and their armour. Nothing similar was seen in many moons but then I spied something that threw me sideways... 

What are those little spikes on the horse's brows? 

And... Should I be looking at horse armour too?



Wednesday 22 July 2020

Polly's Parlour — Running Around in my Own Footsteps

My local fields are open again and so I have put in a few hours at Polly's Parlour. Three excursions on consecutive days, the first two with the XP ADX 150 and yesterday afternoon with the Laser B1. All were three hours in duration.

Of course, there were plenty of targets and last year's hard work seems to have not depleted the supply in any way.  On each of the first two sessions, I dug about 80 targets in total and was pleased with that because it was established last year that the recovery rate would be around the 30 finds per hour mark.

Also, I was best pleased with locating both toys and shirt buttons, which are the most interesting items from this site in terms of their quantity and frequency. I have to say that both are more or less predictable finds on every occasion.

After the three sessions, the total thus far is 22 examples. Almost 30% of this tray and 55 to go...





The first session threw up a jaw harp (or jew's harp) which was once a popular boy's toy. This object was gripped in the jaw and a strip of steel (long gone) twanged with the index finger. When the brass frame was clamped or relaxed between the teeth the pitch would change.  I also found two branded shirt buttons and an enamel button of the Coventry Cycling Clubs Association. Unfortunately, As with most enamelled objects, it is in dreadful condition because enamel seems to have been usually applied to pure copper, not a more durable alloy of it.




The second session gave up another pair of shirt buttons, a gilt watch winder and two fragmentary hollow-cast toys. The best of these is (was!) a horse and rider and is marked on the belly of the horse with, ' COPYRIGHT -Wm BRITAIN Jr - ?? . 11 . 1902.  It's such a shame that it is so damaged, because this would have been quite an impressive object at manufacture and it was made by the most famous toymaker of all, William Britain Junior. Perhaps there is the slight chance that one day I may find more pieces of it? You never know!

The watch winder is of local interest because it's inscribed with the following —  F. HOUGH -21 - BURGES - COVENTRY and on the reverse with WATCHMAKER AND JEWELLER. Coventry was once renowned for its watchmaking until foreign competition drove the industry under. I think this object will require a trip to the Coventry Watch Museum when it reopens its door to the public...

All of the very smallest items located by the XP 150 in six hours. Nothing here is especially small in my terms.

The third session would turn out to be something of an eye-opener.  I decided to run the B1 through my own footsteps from the previous sessions and of course, I expected to have a tough time locating enough targets to keep me going. I needn't have worried. From the outset, I was kept very busy indeed! There were targets everywhere, and a few were located actually in a footstep in the soil!

These are all of the very smallest items located by the Laser B1 in just three hours. Some of the fragments are truly minuscule and yet the machine gave clear signals for almost every single one

This was remarkable to me. What I was finding were the tiny items that the XP had rejected. I have always known that the B1 is a most capable machine but this was unexpected evidence of its great strength. What I believe had happened was this. The XP seeks deep, and on clean ground runs far deeper than the B1 is capable of. However, when fighting contaminated ground with lots of iron debris within it, it seems to switch into 'big' mode and runs shallow. So I had cleared many of the obvious targets with the XP and was now locating everything else that was not so obvious with the B1 which positively excels under such conditions.

Not a problem! Two machines that work complementary to each other!

If however, I had just the XP as my sole machine, I would have never have found these small items.

When the three hours were up I had located just over a hundred targets and had pocketed three branded shirt buttons (the best ever for the XP is two in the one session while the B1 always locates at least this) and yet another toy. This was a soldier and the first from the site. Unfortunately, he is both headless and legless.

Nevermind. These unexpected and delightful collections of mine ever grow!




Monday 4 November 2019

Abbey Cottages — Over the Wire!

One sunny August morning I'd arrived on-site, leant my bike against the barbed wire fence, and then started detecting in the thicket.

Just as soon as I had, an ancient Land Rover turned up and out jumped an equally ancient, but sprightly and vivacious woman ...

Dressed in ragged skirts and apron, woolly jumpers, a tattered and torn waxed-jacket with a blue headscarf (that may indeed have been a tea towel!) tied by a kneck knot around her head, and for footwear, sporting wellington boots with the tops turned down ... she was the absolute spit of a Van Gogh peasant.

Quite a picture she was!

Opening the gate to the cattle field, she drove into ...

Was this the Queen of England? Or was she my landowner?! 

I thought that, she must be the latter, and that I'd better introduce myself sharpish while I had the chance, explain what I was up to and then ask outright for permission to use my detector in the ground across the now hated barbed-wire fence ...

I called out to her in my best voice just as if she were the Queen of England, said my hello's, and then we started talking — and to my satisfaction — once I was convinced that she was indeed queen of this land and a generous one too, and I'd convinced her that I was indeed a madman but only a harmless one, she said that she'd give permission readily if only I would do her one small, tiny, tiny, incy, wincy little favour ...

I agreed! Without knowing quite what kind of favour it was that I was agreeing to ...

She beckoned me into the field, opened the tailgate of the old jaloppy, told me to get in the back, sit atop the pile of mangelwurzels there and pitch one out every five seconds as she drove around the bumpy hoof-pocked field.

I did as I was told!

And when we were done, the cattle, who had been absent all the while, began ambling back from an out-of-sight field down by the river and proceeded to chomp down on their breakfasts.

Having secured my permission, and with the cattle well away from the house site, I ambled back to the bike only to find that it was gone. I'd left my gear in the thicket but discovered, thankfully, that it was still where I'd left it. And so my new permission had cost me dearly — and to the tune of a sore backside, a mountain bike and a long walk back home! 

I had not lost my precious C-Scope 770D (with radical modifications!) which had stood me in such good stead over the past few years, and so I took this all in good humour and set back to work. 


 Hair ornaments?  Silver-plated copper-alloy. 59mm x 44mm.
I found that the soil in this new patch of mine had been somewhat modified by the hooves, the urine and the droppings of the cattle and to my initial dismay that copper-alloy items were often found broken, distorted, or in a corroded state. However, it was to prove worthwhile. Not everything was damaged but the chances were much higher than I had experienced previously when most everything had come out the ground in superb condition.

The womenfolk of the house had been noticeably absent from the finds record in the thicket and on the ramp, but as the days and weeks passed I began to find the evidence of them in the form of costume jewellery and other small trinkets. Two identical copper-alloy items, that I think are probably a pair of hair ornaments, were found nearby to each other but on separate occasions. They were in very different states of preservation (as you can see above) where one example is quite corroded whilst the second example is not at all and retains traces of silvering.

The rings on my left pinky. These are rings are small.
There were also three small finger rings of gilt-brass, two of which were broken and one complete and in good shape but missing its stone. These were as feminine a find that I could have made because they were certainly not made for men or boys.

Of course, I was to find more thimbles but thimbles were not necessarily the sole property of women, were they? I also found lots more buttons (I would eventually amass a collection of 40 specimens) which comprised of dandy buttons, military and service buttons but also small closed-back jacket buttons that did appear to be feminine.


One morning I discovered an item that at the time I hoped might eventually lead me to the name of the man of the house. This was a rectangular brass from a leather horse harness, and better, it was engraved with the owners initials and later I also found a circular martingale brass but this was a straightforward fretted example in the form of the sun or a star.

Thereafter, I called my man of the house, 'Bill Cobb'!

I thought that to be a name suiting such a country gentleman as him.