Object of the Day, Museum Edition: A Medal from Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee, 1887

Medal
Silver, 1887
Originally Presented for Queen Victoria's
Golden Jubilee, a bar with the date of the
Diamond Jubilee was added ten years later.
The Victoria & Albert Museum

A few weeks ago, I shared with you a medal from my own collection. That medal was made for the Silver Jubilee of King George V and Queen Mary.

Today, I’d like to show you a similar medal from the V&A—this one was made for the Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1887. This medal was cast in silver, and was presented to Ministers of State and other dignitaries who attended Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee Celebration. Since Victoria’s reign lasted a good while longer, in 1897, for the Diamond Jubilee, a silver bar bearing the date was given to those who had received the 1887 decoration. The bar was meant to be added to the medal’s ribbon. This particular medal was awarded to John Charles Robinson (1824-1913), a curator, scholar and collector, whose work at the V&A in its earliest stages contributed greatly to the enduring success of the institution. Robinson was integral in the formation of the collections. In addition to his work at the V&A, Mr. Robinson was the Surveyor of the Queen's Pictures from 1882 to 1901.

Mastery of Design: An Indian Tourmaline Brooch, 1860

Brooch-Pendant
Tourmaline, Emerald, Diamonds, Pearls, Gold
India, 1860
The Victoria & Albert Museum

A gorgeous pink tourmaline is the centerpiece of this fantastic brooch which also includes rose-cut diamonds, emeralds, and river pearls set in gold. The carved emerald drop is detachable.


This brooch was made in India for the Western market and bears trademarks of both English and Indian sensibilities. In 1851visitors to the Great Exhibition had become enamored of the displays of Indian jewelry, marveling at its opulent appearance and vivid colors.

By 1860, Indian jewelers learned that their good would sell quite well in England and began producing works in their traditional methods with an eye for English tastes. This brooch is an excellent example of that interesting artistic trend.

Unfolding Pictures: The Barbier Fan, 1911

Hand Fan
Georges Barbier, 1911
The Victoria & Albert Museum

The celebrated Georges Barbier was the foremost fashion illustrator in early Twentieth Century Paris. Many yearned to work with him, and he ended up collaborating with some of the most avant garde designers of the era: Paul Poiret and Madame Paquin.

The female figure painted on this paper and silk-leaf fan is adorned with a headdress identical to one famously designed by Madame Paquin. With its simple bone sticks, the style of the fan is a sign of things to come with the styles of the 1920s and the Art Deco.

Unusual Artifacts: A Floor Tile from the Palace of Westminster, 1847 – 1850

The Victoria & Albert Museum

This beautifully-colored encaustic tiles (meaning tiles with decoration of contrasting-colored clay inlaid into their surface) were mass-produced starting in the mid-Nineteenth Century. The firm of Minton & Co.—the producer of this tile between 1847 and 1850--was one of the major manufacturers.

This tile with its fleur-de-lis pattern in heraldic colors was made for the new Palace of Westminster. London’s old Palace of Westminster was almost completely destroyed by a horrendous fire in 1834. As plans to rebuild were underway, a competition was held to design a suitable new building for the official seat of Parliament. Charles Barry (1795-1860), with the assistance of A.W.N. Pugin, won the competition with his Gothic Revival design. Construction began in 1840. Each and every detail was carefully considered—even down to the intricately patterned floor tiles.

This example is one of a surplus that was not used in the building and was given to the Victoria & Albert Museum.

Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 293

“Who’s this handsome boy?” Nellie purred as she stroked Giovanni’s arm.

“My brother, Carlo” Giovanni smirked. “I’m rather surprised to see him climbing through a window. He much prefers to use the servant’s entrance.”

“Giovanni, you’re…” Charles began.

“How trite,” Giovanni scowled. “Surely, you’re not going to say, ‘You’re alive!’ Couldn’t you decide upon something more clever.”

“Why aren’t you in Hell?” Charles asked.

“That’s more clever,” Nellie laughed, her scar crinkling as she smiled.

“Because I’m in indomitable.” Giovanni shrugged, wincing from the pain of his fresh wound. “Now, answer a question for me. Why are you climbing through windows?”

“My friend,” Charles replied softly. “She’s in trouble.”

“Here?” Giovanni raised one eyebrow. “With Marie?”

“Which friend?” Nellie asked.

“Miss Allen,” Charles answered.

“That sow?” Nellie moaned. “Is she here? Worthless…”

“I’ll thank you to cease that line of thought.” Charles said warningly.

“Will you, now?” Nellie rose and tied her dressing gown around her waist. “Forget about her, Carlo.”

“Charles. My name is Charles.”

“Not according to your brother.” Nellie purred.

“He ceased to be my brother long ago.”

“Such talk.” Giovanni grunted. “And, me, lying here in this bed, barely alive.”

“You were well enough to entertain this scarred woman of ill repute.”

Nellie pulled back her hand and slapped Charles across the face.

Rubbing his cheek, Charles smiled, “Well, aren’t you fierce? Would you be as fierce if you knew that Iolanthe Evangeline is in the other room with Marie and Ulrika Rittenhouse?”

“What?” Nellie stepped backward.

“Wasn’t it the doing of one of those two women that you came by your scar? And, isn’t the other surely looking for you after you fled from her ‘business?’”

“You’re lying!” Nellie spat. “Marie would never have those two here.”

“I saw them through the open door when I passed through the alley.” Charles nodded. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll take you to them right now.” He grabbed Nellie by the arm.

“Let me go!” Nellie shouted.

“Yes, do scream. I’m sure the sound of your voice will attract their attention.”

“No.” Nellie whispered.

“Then, help me rescue Miss Allen.” Charles said firmly.

Meanwhile, Punch’s shoulders sagged a little as he stood across from Julian in the long, imaginary passage which existed only within their shared minds and body.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Master. I do.” Punch sighed.

“I don’t think that you do.” Julian responded gently.

“You’re gonna tell me to forget ‘bout the child like Naasir said to do, and that I should go back to Marionneaux with Robert and Cecil and Adrienne and Fuller. I already got rid of Barbara. Ain’t no savin’ her. Ain’t no getting’ the diamond, I don’t think. You want me to forget the whole thing and go to Marionneaux and rest before we sail to England.”

“That’s not what I want,” Julian shook his head.

“It ain’t?”

“No.” Julian smiled. “I want you to fight for what you believe in, and, what’s more, I’m going to help you.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-292? If so, you can read them here.

Card of the Day: The Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret Rose

While other members of the Royal Family (especially Queen Alexandra who, at first, resented her son’s closeness to his new wife) contended that Princess Mary of Teck was a cold and distant mother, there’s much evidence to the contrary. In fact, she was quite involved and close to her children, and, later, to her grandchildren. As Queen Mary, she was endlessly devoted to the eldest daughter of her son, “Bertie,” the Duke of York (later King George VI). Queen Mary’s relationship with Princess Elizabeth lasted until her death in 1953, just around the time of Elizabeth’s accession to the throne as Queen Elizabeth II.

The thirty-sixth card in the series of Silver Jubilee cards by Wills’s Cigarette Co. shows Princess Elizabeth with her younger sister, Margaret Rose.

The reverse of the card reads:

THE PRINCESSES ELIZABETH AND MARGARET ROSE


“The Little House” was the gift of Wales to Princess Elizabeth on her sixth birthday. This fascinating present is not a doll’s house, but a completely equipped phone, two-fifths of normal size into which a grown-up can only creep, but in which the Princess, her sister and friends of their own age can move freely. There are six rooms, stairs with treads about four inches in height leading to the upper floor. Our picture shows the Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret Rose at the door of the Little House in 1933.

Object of the Day: An Engraving of a Portrait of Princess Eugénie of France, 1873

On Monday, I posted a page from a book which depicted an engraving of Queen Victoria. At the time, I didn’t know the title of the book from which the page had come, but, now, thanks to my father, I do. The book was: Portrait Gallery of Eminent Men and Women in Europe and America: Embracing History, Statesmanship, Naval and Military Life. Philosophy, Drama, Literature and Art. It was published in 1873.
Here’s another page from a torn-apart copy of that old book. Here, we see Princess Eugénie. María Eugenia Ignacia Augustina de Palafox-Portocarrero de Guzmán y Kirkpatrick, 16th Countess of Teba and 15th Marquise of Ardales; 5 May 1826 – 11 July 1920), known as Eugénie de Montijo was the last Empress consort of the French from 1853 to 1871 as the wife of French Emperor Napoleon III.

The marriage of Napoleon III to Eugénie was quite controversial for the French—much to the amusement of the English—for a variety of political reasons. Nevertheless, Napoleon insisted upon marrying the woman he loved. Ultimately, the people of France embraced Eugénie if only just as a style-setter and fashion icon. Her cutting-edge fashion sense changed women’s attire throughout Europe.

I’m rather fond of this print because it reminds me of the portrait from the film, Rebecca.