Posted on 11/16/2017 3:24:23 PM PST by mairdie
Archaeologists have discovered an 'exceptional' treasure trove of precious objects at the Abbey of Cluny, a former Benedictine monastery in France's Saône-et-Loire
More than 2,000 objects have been found, including silver deniers - or pennies - Islamic gold coins, a signet ring and several gold items.
The discovery is the first time that gold coins from the Arab lands, silver French deniers and a signet ring have ever been found together in a single, enclosed complex.
Researchers from the Universite Lumiere Lyon discovered the items as part of an archaeological dig at the Abbey of Cluny, which started in 2015.
The team discovered 2,200 silver deniers and oboles - a silver-alloy coin of France issued during the Middle Ages - in a cloth bag.
They were mostly minted by the Abbey of Cluny and probably dated to the first half of the 12th century.
These were found alongside a tanned hide bundle containing 21 Islamic gold dinar coins dated between 1121 and 1131 from Spain and Morocco, under the reign of Ali ibn Yusuf (1106-1143).
A gold signet ring with a red intaglio depicting the bust of a god and an inscription possibly dating the ring back to the first half of the 12th century was also found at the site.
(Excerpt) Read more at dailymail.co.uk ...
Gold - that “barbarous relic.”
Cool!!! Thanks for posting this!!
By Henry Livingston, of Night Before Christmas. The story of a gold coin from the POV of the gold.
FOR THE JOURNAL.
Adventures of an American Eagle
March 20, 1822
In bleak Potosi’s inmost cells
Where everlasting Chaos dwells
Small rills of mercury abound
Meandering through the deep profound:
These rills by kindred atoms join’d
By lapse of time grow more refin’d;
Internal heat then adds its pow’r
Till what was fluid flows no more
And the result is golden ore.
Such once I was — and haply lay,
Nor knew, nor wish’d, for light or day.
A Capac rose, a Capac fell
A thousand fathoms o’er my cell;
And to my dismal dark recess
E’en Spanish thunder could not press.
At length discordant sounds arose
To fright me from my long repose.
I saw the light — the human face —
And man usurp’d my native place.
Borne from the mine, far, far away
A mass of kindred ores we lay
But stay not long — Fierce chemic fire
Bid ev’ry drossy part retire
Till at the forceful last essay
A splendid ingot fair I lay.
Commerce now join’d me to its store
And o’er the foaming ocean bore,
Safely within the Mint was flung
Where other changes o’er me hung.
The Die and the terrific Screw
Another form around me threw;
I rose an Eagle fresh and new.
A congress sage of aspect grave
Not over wise nor quite a knave,
Receiv’d me in the shape of pay
(The stipend of a single day)
And bore me to the south away.
Here I was bounc’d and urged through
Adventures rare as well as new.
A man of rice thro’ one whole day
Controul’d with undisturbed sway
But e’er the dawn of morrows light,
Evanish’d from his purse and sight.
From rice to cotton I was flung:
Then in a Reticule was hung:
My mistress was all smirk all smile
And bore my jingling well a while,
Then in a fit of finery lost me
And to a Canton Crape man tost me:
He grin’d as he receiv’d the treasure
And dropt me in his till at leisure.
Here I lay slumbering out of sight
Two long, long days and one short night
The sherriff came with stern Fi Fa
And bore me from the till away.
How I came there I scarcely know
Or right or wrong ‘twas truly so
I found myself with lott’ry Waite
Who long had whirl’d the wheel of Fate
A paltry prize a carman drew
And in his leather pouch I flew
But er he sought his crib of rest
A grocer hous’d me in his nest.
Dandies and Belles by turn carest me
And Feds and Tails by fits possest me.
I’m worn a little I must own
And my first blush of brightness gone;
A little too decres’d in weight
But what is left is sterling plate;
Tho’ clip’d and sweated, worn and old
My latest atom will be GOLD.
One little word of moral o’er
And then we part to meet no more.
Pursue me reader if you please
With moisten’d brow or yawn of ease;
Urge on the chase or slow or keen,
Keep conscience clear and fingers clean.
The golden calf of Moab’s plain
Was Israel’s sin and Israel’s shame
Till wiser Moses made them quaff
Their recent God the molten calf.
So a church official stole the items and hid them. Never found a fence.
Check out Henry Livingston’s 1822 poem from the POV of gold smelted into a coin in Comment 4. One of my favorites. Written when he was 73 years old.
I’d assume one of the wars that resulted in the burning of priories. For great fiction about the English monasteries, I recommend the Cadfael books by linguist-scholar Edith Pargeter, writing as Ellis Peters. Someone else might know some good references to French wars of the period.
Thank you, that was well worth reading and I am recommending it to my friends!
http://www.henrylivingston.com/writing/poetry/illustratedpoems/moral-eagle.htm
Templar loot?
I read “In bleak Pelosi’s inmost cells.”
My pressssscious!
I think you’re both right on. Now what Middle Eastern country is going to say that it needs to be repatriated?
ping
The Cluny Museum in Paris is in the former townhouse of the Abbots. It houses French Middle Ages artifacts. Well worth a visit.
Oh, that new poem you won’t find online anywhere. It’s still in my research site but, besides the fact that it’s signed R, all the statistics tests id it as Henry’s. But until we finish the current research, I wasn’t putting the new Henry poems up. We’re trying to build a black box that you put a poem in one end and out the other comes the answer whether the poem is likely Henry’s or not.
There are SO many places I wish I could visit - both for archeology and for art. When I studied art history, all exams required you to give artist, date and where they were located. So I dreamed of so many places to visit. But I don’t fly, and don’t think I’m up to a ship either, so I rely on internet videos of museums and such.
Eck! Yuck! No, please.
I do that all the time. We should start collecting them. They really are funny.
Very nice! Thx!
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