Collecting Jamestown: Part 17. A Token Like No Other (5). King's Touch.

The story of the King's Touch tokens continues. This is the 5th installment. One more to go after this. 

Keep in mind that this is a rough draft of a book chapter, so it will be edited (several times, I am sure). Previous installments were posted on 3/12, 2/26, 2/3, and 1/29.

... So, how does all this relate to Jamestown? Quite simply, a whopping fifty-nine King’s Touch tokens were excavated within the fort. This is the largest find from any site worldwide. Thirty-two pieces were found in strata that dated to the early fort period; hence, these copper tickets predated the reign of Charles I as the Brits had originally suggested. This remarkable discovery begs the question: Did the Piscataway tokens come from Jamestown?

Part of the answer came in 1997 when a treasure hunter discovered two King’s Touch tokens at an native village believed to be Werowocomoco. This was where Chief Powhatan had resided until 1609. Captain John Smith nearly met his fate at Werowocomoco when Pocahontas laid her head upon his, thereby saving him from being clubbed to death. The village was only a dozen miles north of Jamestown along the York River; the colonists had gone there at least six times to trade before it was deserted.

Excavations at Jamestown

The digs at Werowocomoco revealed the graves of two native children. Their remains were laced with four thousand white and blue glass beads, plus one chevron bead. The two King’s Touch tokens were holed twice, just as found at Piscataway. It is believed that the beads and tokens made up a complex necklace. Several tools were also found including an iron hammer, a copper skillet, and a copper spoon – a sacrificial deposit not unlike those seen in ancient England. All told, it was an important burial.

Subsequent excavations have suggested that the burials were made some years after 1609, perhaps as late as 1650. Apparently, the natives returned to the site to bury the children. This finding makes it difficult to determine where and when the tokens were traded to the natives. In the Narratives, Captain John Smith reported trading copper for maize on several occasions. In addition, there was pilfering among the colonists for secretive exchanges. Were these tokens part of these actions?

Along these lines, several other King’s Touch tokens have been discovered in tidewater Virginia. In 1976 a token was found just north of Jamestown Island in a small community known as Pasbehay (named for the native tribe who lived nearby). The token was discovered along with a Scottish two-pence and some pottery sherds dumped in a refuge pit that bordered a meager earthfast dwelling dating to the second quarter of the seventeenth century.

Another King’s Touch token was unearthed in the plowzone of the Flowerdew plantation site in the mid-1990s. It was found near a bake oven that was associated with Abraham Peirsey’s residence after 1624. A lead cloth seal from England dated 1637 was found nearby; so, the token could have been lost anytime during this period. All told, twenty-two copper pieces have been found outside Jamestown.

It is worth a moment to consider how important copper was to the Powhatans. Copper was highly valued for its reflective surfaces and red color. Consequently, Algonquian chiefs and priests hoarded the metal as a symbol of power. Before the arrival of the English colonists, the Powhatans traded with tribes from the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Great Lakes. But with the settlement at Jamestown, everything changed. The English brought lots of copper to trade.

        
     Early on, the Powhatans were willing to trade baskets full of corn for copper “trinkets.” For the natives, copper was magical. Tubular beads and holed plates of copper were gifted to those who earned respect within the tribe. As such, copper ornaments were a symbol of status and power. It was not unusual to find copper buried in single grave and ossuary sites. Here, we have seen that the copper tickets were part of complex necklaces. These finding remind us that imbuing metallic items with occult power is universal; the English bent coins, and the Algonquians fashioned copper amulets.

Old Sails: Ship of Paris on Beat Jeton.

Old ships from the sixteenth century never fail to captivate me.

This one has just the right look for a necromancer: it was held, passed around, put away, and taken out again. The surfaces are warmly colored with daubs of red, orange, and yellow -- the last rays of a setting sun. The ship is highlighted where worn. The porous fields disperse the light. Yes, it is beat. But beautiful.

In the late 1600s, a jeton like this was one of the few ways a land-lover could enjoy the marvel of a a fully-rigged ship. This was the Age of Discovery.

Nuremberg Jeton with Ship of Paris, late 1500s.

The main and aft sails are billowing in the wind, whereas the foresail is furled. Pennants fly from every masthead. The ship appears to be on a port tact. I imagine that it is leaving the harbor and heading out on an adventure far beyond the horizon.

This ships appears to be an early Carrack, similar to the one that I profiled in November 2015. It has moderately sized fore- and aft-castles with shallow U-shape from bow to stern.

The vessel represents the "Ship of Paris" -- the central feature on the city's arms. The legend -- FLVCTVAT NEC MERGITVR -- is the motto of Paris since the 14th century; it translates to read: "Tossed, but not sunk." It is an adage that resonates with me; life has it challenges, but we keep on, getting on.

It is amazing how little things change in life.

On the reverse (not shown) the motto -- PROSPERATVM EST OPVS IN MANNIIS EIVS -- translates: "Work prospers in his hands." There is a view of Paris with divine figures in the clouds above the city.

All told, a neat ship piece.

If you look close, you can see the makers initials below the waves: CK. This stands for Killian Kock. He was the mint master from Nuremberg (1580-1608). On the obverse the abbreviation -- NORIBE -- stands for his city.

This ship is scarce but available. There are several variations on this theme, some without waves. By the way, this is the 15th Old Sails thus far in the blog ... and I see more ships appearing on the horizon. As always, if you see an error, please post it so we all can benefit.

Collecting Jamestown: Part 16. A Token Like No Other (4).

This week I continue the story about King's Touch tokens or tickets. It is part of a Chapter from an upcoming book on Coin Talismans.

I have revised this Chapter several times, so I updated all previous posts. I hate to say this, but you will want to go back and re-read the previous three posts if you want the full story: 1/29/17, 2/3/17, and 2/26/17. Some paragraphs have been re-arranged and many words changed (hopefully for the better). This is how writing goes: write, revise, revise, revise.

My book manuscript is written (but for one or two chapters), so the revision process is underway. Over a hundred references will be added in later -- whew!

And so, on with our story:

During the King’s Touch ceremony, the afflicted person would use the copper ticket to gain admittance. When called forward, the person kneeled before the King and was touched. A bishop read Biblical passages from the Gospel of Mark during the service. One verse in particular explained the immunity of kings to evil and the power to heal: “They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover” (Mark 16:18). At the conclusion of the service, the King hung the coin around the neck of the afflicted.

While visiting the British Isles in 1611, the Prince of Hesse made this observation. “I … attended the ceremony of “touching” several scrofulous patients, two bishops being also present; during the benediction the King laid two fingers upon them, and hung around the neck of each an angel with a white silk ribbon.” I’m sure that the service was a curious spectacle. The King’s Touch was unique to England and France and must have intrigued foreign dignitaries like the Prince.

The primary illness to be cured was a tubercular infection of the lymph nodes known as Scrofula. It was a common ailment characterized by ugly purple swellings in the neck and occasional outbreaks of oozing sores. The disease was called the “King’s Evil” or “Morbus Regius” for its association with the touching ceremony. Less often, folks with rheumatism, seizures, and fevers were admitted to the service.

Charles II touching the scrofulous.
Print by Robert White (1684) / Public Domain

These illnesses tended to follow a fluctuating course such that periodic remissions were possible; hence, the King’s Touch appeared to be efficacious often enough to generate remarkable success stories. Some physicians were no doubt skeptical, as the king’s surgeon, John Knight, commented in the 1670s: “If I err, I err in good company. Meanwhile the healings cheer the sick and serve the cause of the king.” When relief was not forthcoming, it was attributed to divine providence; I guess sinners – thieves, fornicators, murderers – had to pay a price.

The King’s Touch service was usually performed twice a year on Michaelmas and Easter. Not all monarchs were enthusiastic to touch. James I was notably squeamish about it, and he wanted to end the practice for its Old Church associations. Yet, the services continued. The populace clamored for it. Besides, the ceremony strengthened the monarchy in the eyes of its subjects. At its height, Charles II touched over 92,000 souls between 1660 and 1685. And, James II continued the practice with zest.

       The ceremony was abruptly stopped in 1688, as William III refused to touch. He famously retorting that is was mere superstition; he was a Calvinist after all. Queen Anne touched reluctantly. In fact, she used a lodestone instead of her fingers to touch the sores of the afflicted. The divine service was finally removed from the Book of Common Prayers when George I ascended to the throne in 1714. Of note, Jacobite pretenders and a few French kings continued to touch into the early nineteenth century.

I will have some more in a few weeks ... (I hope you are enjoying the story).

Loving the Unloved: Holed Connecticut Copper

This 1786 Connecticut copper ceased being money a long time ago.

It is heavily worn with what appears to be a planchet flaw (or deep gouge) scarring the upper cheek. Deep cuts, now worn shallow, reveal old injuries. Edge bumps, too, are smoothed and broaden the rim.

A colonial collector will find the bust familiar. But, my eye goes directly to the wound. It is dramatic. And its on the face -- we can't help but flinch. 

I put this one to good use.
Placed on the back of a door, it protects entrance.

The nail hole is dramatic too.

A rounded nail was pounded thru. The sprue on the reverse is pronounced and worn to a dull sheen. Hence, the bust looked out. The coin is slightly bent behind the bust from the blow. 

Was it nailed to door or post?

It was not unusual to nail an old copper near an entrance: door, window, or hearth. Here, evil could enter. Studies of apotropaic magic in New England suggest that the hearths were particularly vulnerable – they could not be shut.

A copper piece could repel witches. And witches were feared well into the eighteenth century (and beyond in a few cases). Sometimes, the copper was placed to appease the divine – a foundation sacrifice meant to protect against wind, hale, and other violence.

It could have been holed for other reasons. However, it does not show thus stretch marks of suspension. We can't know.

This Connecticut copper was already old when it was holed – a piece in the box perhaps. Or, a family token passed down. Who knows? 

A holed coin is no accident. It was a specific action. Planned. With a goal. The hole marks a point in time when the coin entered a second (or third) life.

I am sensitive to this action, as any necromancer would be. Just as an old scar on my arm reminds me of a dog bite; this lowly piece has a story to tell – not a story by association to a state or era, but its own story.