The finest known piece of Anglo-Saxon days is the Alfred Jewel, a gold plaque of cloisonné enamel found in 1693 at Newton Park. It is an oval two inches long, a little over an inch high, and an inch deep. At the tip of the oval is a boar’s head. Rock crystal covers the main plaque of translucent enamel, blue, white, green, and brown, shaped in the head of a man. Some think this may represent a saint, or the Christ; some say it is a portrait of Alfred the Great, for along the edge in gold are the letters: _Aelfred mec heht gewyrcan_, “Alfred had me worked.” Among other treasures of early England are examples of filigree, such as a Kentish brooch set with garnets, of the sixth century, and brooches of granular gold. _Edward the Confessor’s Jewels_ One of the three Royal Crowns of the British monarch is supposedly that of Edward the Confessor, who was buried in Westminster in 1101, but whose shrine was opened and the jewels taken forth for future kings. The royal treasures of the English realm, however, were broken up by the Roundheads under Cromwell. Life at its longest is fleeting, but beauty is an enduring symbol: the destroyers of the royal treasure are scorned today almost more than the regicides. The current Crown of Edward the Confessor, therefore, is a replica, even if the old one was authentic. Less suspect is the great sapphire, which Edward wore in his coronation ring, and which today is the central stone in the cross atop the British Imperial Crown of State. _Growth of the Goldsmiths’ Guild_ Less than a century after Edward, in the reign of Henry II, the first Plantagenet ruler of England, the Goldsmiths’ Guild was formed. By 1380, two hundred years later, it was one of the most powerful guilds in the country, with rigid rules for admittance and for the quality of materials and workmanship. Although the artists worked for the king and the nobles, the bulk of their production was for ecclesiastical and general religious use. As a result, they developed greater refinements and further elaborations in this field. We have already noticed the rosary beads that open, disclosing scenes of the life of Christ or the Virgin Mary. But a cardinal without succumbing to the sin of pride might wear a jeweled pendant if the hanging box of gold opened upon a crucifix, or adorn his robe with a rich chain of gold if its links were medallions designed with holy scenes. Cardinal Wolsey, whose kitchen boasted twenty-two specialty chefs, vied with his lusty monarch, Henry VIII, in many ways, but he could never hope to match the King’s jewels which included almost 250 rings, well over 300 brooches, and one of whose diamonds, an observer reports, was bigger than “the largest walnut I ever saw.” _The Italians in the Renaissance_