Punch's Cousin, Chapter 259

“Tell me more, Doctor,” Scaramouche said shakily, still lying on the floor.


“With this liquid,” Robert replied, forcing himself to smile, “you will be able to silence those other voices which seem to plague you.”

“Those other voices, Doctor,” Scaramouche snarled, “are your beloved friends. Do you expect me to believe you’d wish to see them quieted?”

“I am a physician,” Robert said, shuddering for a moment as he recalled Giovanni Iantosca’s warm blood on his hands. “My first priority is to help the person who is in front of me. My personal feelings have no bearing on my duty.”

Scaramouche looked up at the shimmering vial which Robert held between his fingers.

“I shan’t be taken in by your lies.” Scaramouche coughed. “I’m far too intelligent for the likes of you.”

“As you wish,” Robert nodded. He turned slightly and nodded at Marjani, and then at Cecil. Both Marjani and Cecil spring forward and restrained Mr. Scaramouche. Marjani—with her unusual strength—held the man’s borrowed arms and torso against the floor as Cecil pressed upon his chin to force open his mouth.

Scaramouche squirmed and struggled to no avail.

“My apologies, Scaramouche,” Robert said as he uncorked the vial and poured the liquid into Julian’s mouth.

Cecil clamped his hand over Julian’s mouth so that Scaramouche could not spit out the liquid. When they were certain that he’d ingested the tonic, they released him.

Scaramouche howled angrily. “Murderers! You’ll all pay!”

“I haven’t murdered you,” Robert replied, shuddering again as the image of Giovanni’s crumpled body darted behind his eyes. “All that will do is make you sleep.”

“And what of the others?” Scaramouche asked groggily.

“I do not know.” Robert sighed. “I don’t know what goes on inside of that body. When the body sleeps, I know not if your minds continue. I hope that they do so that they may convince you to retreat from whence you came.”

Julian’s eyelids grew heavy. Before long, the body had fallen asleep.

“Help me,” Robert nodded at Cecil.

Robert and his brother picked up Julian’s body and carried him to his room upstairs. Arranging him on the bed, Robert sat beside the shell of his friend and sighed. Looking at Julian’s face, he said softly, “I wish I understood what happens inside of you, you lovely wretch. If you can hear me, Julian, Mr. Punch, please, take this moment to quiet this savage man. I only wish I could assist you further.”

Robert walked out of the room and down the stairs, followed by Cecil.

In the parlor, the rejoined Barbara and Marjani.

“Doctor, how are my son and Mrs. Halifax?” Barbara asked.

“We’ve left them in a safe place with Marjani’s friends and your Charles.” Robert answered. “However, we must free them soon.”

“We’ll need to ensure that His Grace is in his right mind,” Cecil began, pausing for a moment as he considered what exactly Julian’s “right mind” would be. “Then, we can assist them in fleeing to safety with the child.”

“There’s more to discuss, Brother,” Robert sighed.

“The boy is not ill, is he?” Barbara asked nervously.

“No.” Robert shook his head. “However, we have other dangers.”

Meanwhile, as Arthur raised the green cushion above Ulrika’s face, he muttered a few words of apology to the woman.

“Ain’t it funny?” He mumbled. “I somehow hate to do this.”

“Artie?” Gerard whispered. “Someone’s comin’.”

“What?” Arthur hissed.

Gerard pointed to the door as the handle jiggled.

“Did you lock it?” Arthur mouthed.

Gerard nodded.

“Miss Ulrika?” Someone said softly as a knock sounded against the door. “It’s Odo, Miss. There’s someone at the back door for to see ya.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-258? If so, you can read them here.

Precious Time: An Empire Trophy Clock, 1810

Clock
French Case, 1810
Gilt Bronze, Chased and Cast
English Movement
The Victoria and Albert Museum

Clocks in the form of trophies with military themes were popular during the “Empire” period of France. This period’s tastes relied heavily on military motifs with classical styling.


This particular clock of cast and chased gilt bronze has been polished to a mirror-like shine. Dating to 1810,the maker of the case is unknown thought the movement is suspected to have been the work of John Moore & Son. The clockworks were updated later in the Nineteenth Century and replaced with an English movement though the French case remains unaltered.

In the clock’s central shield, the clock face is nestled within a wreath of oak leaves and is supported by the figure of an eagle holding a thunderbolt. Similar leaves adorn flanking figures of a griffin and an eagle as well as two plumed helmets—all symbols of military victory.

Object of the Day: A Rare Souvenir of the Silver Jubilee of King George V and Queen Mary, 1935

I have never seen souvenir medals until recently. This medal from 1935 is a souvenir of the Silver Jubilee of King George V and his consort, Queen Mary. Suspended from a ribbon of red, white and blue, the face of the spelter medal shows the visages of the King and Queen in profile with the words, “H.M. King George V, H.M. Queen Mary, 1910-1035.” The reverse of the medeal bears the inscription, “To commemorate the Silver Jubilee of our beloved King and Queen, 6th May, 1935.” The reverse is adorned with a laurel wreath pattern.


I’m not quite sure to whom these medals were given. My guess is that they were gifts to those who helped prepare of the Jubilee festivities. I’m quite fond of it. Now, it’s displayed on a red ribbon, adorning a lampshade. Illuminated from behind, it continues to serve its original purpose—to remind us of a remarkable reign.

Gifts of Grandeur: A Diamond and Emerald Parure, 1806

Diamond and Emerald Suite
Necklace and Earrings
From a Parure by Nitot & Fils, 1806-1820
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Just part of a larger parure, this suite of emeralds and diamonds is thought to have been a gift from French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte and his consort Joséphine to their adopted daughter, Stéphanie de Beauharnais, on the occasion of her arranged marriage to the heir of the Grand Duke of Baden in 1806. Created by Nitot & Fils, the principal jewelers to Napoleon and Joséphine, the necklace and earrings feature dozens of diamonds and especially clear emeralds.


This was the height of fashion in 1806 with its large stones and the simplicity of design that were favored at the court of Napoleon. To give the wearer more options, the emerald drops at the back of the necklace can be detached and worn as earrings. These drops cam later, having been added to the necklace in 1820.

Mastery of Design: A Ring Containing the Hair of King George III, 1816

Ring
Enamel, Gold, Diamond, Rubies
Containing the Hair of King George III
1816, English
The Victoria & Albert Museum

This ring of enameled gold contains bezel-set rubies and a brilliant-cut diamond in the shape of a crown. The band is dated, 1816. Behind the crown, a locket is cleverly hidden upon which has been inscribed, “Hair cut from the head of George III, 1 Apr., 1816.”


Items of jewelry, especially during the Nineteenth Century, frequently held lockets of hair—often behind rock crystal or glass as a memento of a loved one or in memory of a person who has passed away. To have a lock of a Regent’s hair was quite extraordinary. It’s unknown who made the ring and for whom it was made. However, the fact that it has remained intact with its original contents is nothing short of miraculous.

Sculpture of the Day: Queen Victoria, 1888

Queen Victoria
Marble, 1888
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Speaking of busts of Queen Victoria, this one would have also been a very welcome addition to my collection, but I doubt the V & A would be willing to part with it. Created the year after her Golden Jubilee (1888), this marble bust was sculpted by Count Gleichin.


In addition to her the small diamond crown which she preferred over the larger Imperial crown, Victoria is shown wearing the badge of the Imperial Order of the Star of India and the Royal Red Cross (instituted in 1883).

Gleichin, who became a sculptor later in life after losing his fortune, quickly became highly regarded for his brilliant work and his ability to create extremely lifelike figures. This bust is an excellent example of his work.

Film of the Week: Citizen Kane, 1941

“Well, hooray for the Bulldog.”
--Dorothy Comingore as Susan Alexander Kane

With one single word, the most famous word in film history, “Rosebud,” Citizen Kane grew into a tremendous topiary and, despite its few detractors, is considered one of the greatest achievements in world cinema.

The brainchild of Orson Welles, known to most of the U.S. at the time for his popular (and controversial radio program) “The Mercury Theater on the Air,” Citizen Kane not only starred Welles alongside his trusted “Mercury Players,” but was directed, produced and even written by him (with additional dialogue by with Herman K. Mankiewicz). Since its 1941 debut, the picture has been considered one of the most visually beautiful and technically innovative of its time as well as one of the greatest cinematic achievements in history.

This was Orson Welles entre into cinema and established his reputation as a genius, but also made him almost unemployable because of the countless controversies surrounding the creation of the picture. To begin with, the plot—the story of a wealthy man whose raw emotions, drive, ego and insecurities drive him to become one of the most powerful men in the world—closely mirrored (not accidentally) the life of newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. Hearst was not the sort of man that one would wish to tangle with. As publisher of the nation’s largest newspapers, when he heard of Welles’ project, he prohibited any advertisements for the film from running in any of his newspapers.

Nevertheless, the film was a critical triumph. Of course, making it wasn’t such an easy process. Welles certainly had a top-notch cast with his “Mercury Players” including Joseph Cotton, Agnes Moorehead, Dorothy Comingore. George Coulouris, Ray Collins and the late Ruth Warrick (known best to current audiences as Phoebe Tyler Wallingford on All My Children). Each delivers exceptional performances. I am especially fond of Dorothy Comingore’s portrayal of Susan Alexander, Kane’s second wife, who varies between vulnerability and brashness with the blink of an eye. When she frowns slightly and mutters, “You never give me anything I really want,” she more clearly shows her digust with the man she once found so enchanting than if she had screamed the eight words at the top of her lungs.

Hearst tried to block the production at every turn, even trying to get all the prints of the picture destroyed. Having failed at halting production, Hearst tried to pressure theater owners from showing the film. Ultimately, Welle’s was successful and the film was given surprisingly good reviews. Still, despite its masterful cinematography, brilliant performances, poetic script, majestic sets and sweeping score, the picture lost money.

Nevertheless, Welles was still a hot commodity. Having conquered stage and radio, his path in film seemed clear. His next project, The Magnificent Ambersons, was expected to be another triumph and the studio hoped I would make up the losses from Citizen Kane. However, it was a terrible failure, and soon, Welles found that he was almost unemployable.

All that aside, the picture will remain one of the finest of the classic films. An amazing symphony of images and dialgoue, the film draws you in and doesn’t release you from its deep focus until the very end.