Tim Pestell, Curator of Archaeology, Norwich Castle Museum and Art Gallery
As an archaeology curator in Norfolk you get used to the unexpected, perhaps even expecting it. With over 20,000 finds recorded every year in the county, we perhaps take it for granted that there are lots of unknown treasures waiting to be brought to us. To that extent, the discovery of another silver hawking vervel – the ring attached to a bird of prey giving its owner’s name – was fairly unexceptional.
Despite being quite rare finds, vervels are a well-recognised class of object, and Norfolk seems to have been prime turf for hawking, as a number of them have been found in the county over the years. Indeed, we have a large collection of them in the Castle Museum.
Recently, though, when I was told that another one had been found I was very interested. The news that the owner’s name on it was Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales and son of King James I (1566-1625), naturally made me sit up.
Hawking, or falconry, was a popular past time among the upper echelons of society in Europe during this period. Aristocratic men and women would pay large sums of money for birds of prey which would be trained and then used for hunting.
Now, my own sporting passion as far as birds are concerned is limited to following our beloved Canaries (Norwich City Football Club), but what on earth was this vervel doing in Norfolk? Those of us lucky enough to come from the county obviously know what a fine place it is, but what about Henry? With there being no evidence for him visiting Norfolk as Prince of Wales, it set all sorts of possibilities racing.
Was Henry simply here for a weekend hawking with the boys? Or was the hawk being trained for him up here? Had the hawk just legged it (or winged it) from somewhere much further away?
While we have no simple answers, and perhaps may never know how this one ended up in Norfolk, I was reminded of another of our hawking vervels, found by a detectorist in Emneth (in west Norfolk) in 2007. Inscribed, less than helpfully, ‘Come buck of Chichly in’ the bird seems to have singularly failed to have returned. That it may well have died in west Norfolk is hinted at by another find that came from the same hole that produced the vervel – a silver bell, presumably also once attached to the hawk.
Indeed, the number of these vervels that are now being found is fascinating. Not only is there an obvious human angle, enabling us to relate finds to actual people – some of whom we can even visualise through their portraits – but also, for me, they conjure up the colour of life as it would have been all those years ago. They bring to mind scenes in which numerous grumpy aristocrats wonder where on earth their expensive birds have flapped off to (answers to which we may at last be finding out several centuries later).
In the meantime the Cley vervel will be seen, alongside our other vervels, in our forthcoming exhibition at Norwich Castle on The Wonder of Birds from 24 May – 14 September 2014.
Hopefully Henry would have been pleased.