Takács Imre: Az Árpád-házi királyok pecsétjei (Corpus sigillorum hungariae mediaevalis 1. Budapest, 2012)

Type History and Iconography

Also relevant to the royal seal of summons type is the problem of a recently-found bronze medallion (figs. 11-12) bearing an image of Agnus Dei, and with an enigmatic legend referring to King Adalbert (Sigillum Adalberti regis).276 We must go into some detail concerning this object, because there are a great many unanswered questions surrounding its interpretation as a royal seal of summons. Researchers were first of all concerned with identifying the “King Adalbert” of the legend. The unusual form of name can in principle be attached to the name Béla, borne by four Hungarian longs.277 All four of these were considered. The only one actually referred to as Adalbert in the known sources, Béla I, does not qualify as a candidate.278 279 The occurrence of the Agnus Dei image elsewhere in Hungarian royal representation has not escaped attention. It appears on a royal ring used as a counter-seal during the reign of Andrew III (Cat. 47) and on coins from a much earlier period, the reigns of Andrew II27y and his successor Béla IV.280 It was most common, however, on the coins of Andrew III,281 and also known during the reign of Charles Robert.282 A whole series of signet rings depicting Agnus Dei has survived from the thirteenth century.283 The iconographic form of the lamb thus offers no clues for dating the piece. The idea that the King Adalbert in the legend might not have been Hungarian - if he existed at all - has never arisen, even thought there was an Adalbert who sat on a royal throne in the second half of the tenth century, admittedly somewhat far from Hungary: the son of Margrave Berengar II of

276 Supposedly found in Nyircsaholy and came to light in the 1980s. Came by adventurous route into the Hungarian National Museum, where it is held today; inv. no. Ö/1.83.3.

277 DHA I, pp. 162, 167.

278 András Kubinyi, the first to publish the bronze medallion, after a thorough iconographical, epigraphical and historical study, decided on Béla III: Kubinyi 1984. Updated version of the study: Kubinyi 1999, pp. 330-331. György Györffy, going primarily on the Biblical and theological content of the Lamb of God theme proposed the “suffering” blinded King Béla

II: Györffy 1998, pp. 77-80. Zsuzsa Lovag, in the National Museum’s bronze castings catalogue, citing the popularity of Agnus Dei representations, dated the piece to the first third of the thirteenth century, and identified as its owner junior king Béla IV (1214-1235): Lovag 1999, p. 85, no. 212.

Most recently appeared as illustration of an exhibition catalogue. The caption returned to András Kubinyi’s determination; see. Királylányok messzi földről, p. 146.

279 CNH I, p. 208; Huszár pp. 245-246, 285.

280 CNH I, pp. 229, 231; Huszár pp. 294, 296.

281 CNH I, pp. 364-368; Huszár pp. 414-418.

282 CNH II, p. 43; Huszár p. 483.

283 Lovag 1980, pp. 226-227, figs. 3/1-7.

Ivrea, later King of Italy.284 Instead of speculating on the lamb motif and the name, it seems more useful to take a closer look at the bronze disc on which they appear.

The round, recessed field contains the conventional figure of Agnus Dei: it holds one of its front legs bent inwards, and the post of a leaning cross lies on it; the haloed head is turned backwards. Roughly in line with the lamb’s head, a pierced tag projects from the edge of the cast disc. On the undecorated reverse, there are indentations arising from deficiencies in the casting, rough damaged areas and scratches, and a small hole slightly displaced from the centre.

On the obverse, besides flaws and deficiencies caused by damage or use, there are traces of two different manufacturing techniques. The pierced tag and the figure of Agnus Dei were clearly cast in the original mould. Traces of working by a spoon-like chisel cover the back plane of the field around the lamb. These obviously could not have been present on the surface of the mould; somewhat illogically, this part was carved deeper after casting. The engraver does not seem to have completed the recessing of the base plane beside the lamb’s head, because the surface has not been properly smoothed down at this point (fig. 13). The curious aspects do not stop at the shoddy workmanship. The wool of the lamb only appears at the neck, as if it was a mane that was being depicted. This continues in a thin band along the top of the back, but there is none further down. There is a peculiarly large almond-shaped eye on the back-turned head, above it a flattened halo, probably reduced in size from later engraving and worked into an irregular shape. The apparently second-rate craftsman seems to have hurried with carving the form, thus not leaving enough material for the halo. There are also traces of chisel and punch elsewhere. This was the tool used to form the engraved letters on the now-raised ribbon frame, as noticed by Andrew Kubinyi, who first published the disc.285 It is thus quite clear that the legend was not on the original casting. What is strange here is that we have a one-off piece, and not one of a series of castings from a mould, unlike the only comparable Hungarian piece, Andrew I’s seal of summons, of which two copies survive. Seals of summons, cast in metal, did not essentially differ from

284Arnaldi, G.: Adalbert. In: LM I, p. 95. Adalbert ruled as co-king with Berengár, and his seal, known in impression fragments, included bust representations of both kings, similarly to the seal of King Hugo of Provence and Italy (died 948), representing the king and his son Lothair: Schramm - Mütherich 1983, p. 183, Nr. 75;

On the Hugo-Lothair seal see ibid., Nr. 73.

285 Kubinyi 1999, pp. 332-333.