A Medieval Valentines

by Arran Sheikh

Valentine’s day is coming, and I have always been interested in the act of gift giving as a stand-in for love. In the past it has somewhat confused me as love concerns the soul, the immaterial. So what does it have to do with rings, flowers, necklaces and chocolates?

The magpie in me covets hard for shiny things. It’s not platonic love for others that these objects tap into. It’s the more direct material wanting of an entity in your life: a thing with value. That collapsing of material desire and intimacy is the key to the Valentine’s present.

Here’s a time-travelling Valentine’s Day list of sorts. All of these would be perfect for a significant other, and they are all located in the British Museum.

Item 1

This is a heart-amulet, a locket, made in England some time in the 15th Century. The representation of the heart in this shape standing for love and the soul was a brand-new development. The anchor, a cross in disguise, suggests that romantic love is itself a kind of veil, masking a deeper devotion to God.

The inscription says: “who shall deny our love eternity”. The object poses a question to the wearer, which time will answer. I love how uncertain it is; the couple’s faith is tempted by the inscription. It is almost talismanic.

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If you’re anxious about the downfall of a relationship, this might be a good choice, a test.

Item 2

This next item is from Coventry, also made in the late 15th Century. Talk about wearing your heart on your sleeve, this ring bleeds! The five wounds which should be on Christ’s body are actually engraved around the hoop, simulating cuts on the wearer’s finger. They were also initially enamelled red.

Belief in Christ animates his story of suffering. The wearer must imagine Christ’s wounds as their own.

While we believe less in the power of the inanimate object today, I think the exception of this rule must be the Valentine’s day gift, which we seem to still have some residual belief in. There are the pacts of marriage and blessings of faith signified in the rings, lockets, letters, flowers, and chocolates.

The inscription reads: “The well of pity, the well of mercy, the well of comfort, the well of grace, the well of everlasting life.”

Item 3

Excavated in Kent, I chose this one (actually two items belonging to the same woman) mostly for its apt rosiness. It also reminds me of something you’d find in a crystal shop; I know a fair few who’d wear this to a hippie festival. It is a coin pendant and brooch from the early 7th century, and I stared at them for quite a while in the museum.

The faces on the coins are of Maurice Tiberius (539-602CE), the man who helped turn the crumbling Roman empire into the thriving Byzantine empire. The English woman to whom this belonged also had other valuable Byzantine goods. It tells us what the Byzantines meant to the Anglo-Saxons: status, taste, opulence.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Item 4

In 1966, 1,237 coins were discovered in Nottingham, alongside six pieces of jewellery, including this exquisite brooch. This huge hoard of wealth was buried around 1463 by someone who was most likely fleeing conflict during the War of the Roses.

The inscription on the back reads ‘Je suy vostre sans de partier’ (I am yours without leaving/forever). It seems it has always been easier for the English to make romantic gestures in French. Is our language too mouthy, our temperament too awkward? The English find it more palatable to assume the role of French lover: “Mon Amour”, “Bisous”, “J’adore”, we can’t stop ourselves.

If you’re finding it tough to express an unspoken love, it might be easier to have a brooch confess it for you. In French.

Item 5​​

Frustrated with the lack of momentum in your relationship? I’ve got the perfect badge for you. For the final item on this list, I’ve picked a flying phallus. This might be the 7th century equivalent of the aubergine emoji.

If you’re hoping for a one-night stand rather than a life-long love this February, this gift might be your best option. It’s blunt, lacks finesse and, since it’s made from lead, weighs a ton. There is no strong explanation for why the flying penis has a set of chicken legs. Perhaps, after an amorous evening, they’re for legging it.

That’s all for my Valentine’s day medieval shopping list. I hope I haven’t ushered anyone to rob the museum as an act of devotion.