Friday, June 29, 2012

Object of the Day: A Set Theobald & Co. Punch & Judy Magic Lantern Slides

Click image for larger size.

Click image for larger size.

Click image for larger size.





Though they were one of Britain’s major manufacturers of Magic Lantern slides in the late Nineteenth Century, it’s very difficult to find information on Theobald & Co. In fact, most internet searches on the subject lead you right here to this site since I’ve spent a great deal of time writing about them. That happens here quite a lot. I’ll look for something and end up with an article that I wrote on the subject. That’s not helpful. I already know what I know. Errrr…something like that.

I’m not sure what else there could be to learn about the Magic Lantern manufacturer which started out as the J. Theobald & Co. I managed to find their 1890 catalog which is filled with over a dozen series of slides about then-current events, biblical themes and fairy tales.

The company first came to my attention because of the (incomplete) set of Theobald & Co. Magic Lantern Slides which were added to the George Speaight Punch & Judy Archive at the V&A. Of course, you’ve seen those over the last few weeks and regular readers know of my quest to collect the complete set of twelve, hand-colored slides depicting the traditional antics of Mr. Punch. I first added the slide of Mr. Punch’s introduction to Joey the Clown to my collection.

And, then…then…there were these.

Now, these slides, dating the about 1900, are not the larger, single Magic Lantern slides, instead, these scenes are presented on longer, narrow glass strips which were used for smaller Magic Lanterns. These smaller, hand-colored slides, as opposed to the larger ones which were inserted one at a time, were moved in front of the lens on a metal clip. You can see where the black paint (designed to block the light so that it only shone through the roundel with the scene) has scraped off from being slid back and forth in the holder.

This is almost the complete set. Almost.

We see here…

1. Only a fragment of the first scene remains. Sadly, the glass strip snapped long ago. Now that I think about it, I’ve NEVER seen the first slide. The larger set at the V&A doesn’t have one either. I suspect, however, that it was a title slide—showing the Punch and Judy Man and the bottler in front of the fit-up.

2. Mr. Punch and Judy dance a little jig.

3. Mr. Punch meets Dog Toby.

4. Dog Toby bites Mr. Punch’s “beautiful” nose.

5. Mr. Punch and his servant, Jim Crow, dance.

6. After a fall from a horse, Punch goes to the doctor and tells the medic that he’s dead.

7. Missing. However, this should be Mr. Punch with Judy and the Baby

8. Missing. This should be Mr. Punch getting back on the horse.

9. Missing. This would be Punch meeting Joey the Clown.

10. Mr. Punch and the Beadle

11. Mr. Punch in Jail with Jack Ketch the Hangman (“Please don’t hang me.”)

12. After defeating everyone, Mr. Punch bids us “Good night.”

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Gratuitous Bertie Dog Picture: An Allegory of Bertie



"Where are you gonna put the kitchen?"

Click Image to Enlarge










Image:  An Allegory of Architecture; L'Architecture, Carleton Vanloo (1705-1765)' Late Eighteenth to Early Nineteenth Centuries, The Victoria and Albert Museum.











Join Bertie on his romp through Art History by bringing a little Gratuitous Bertie Dog Picture into your home each day.  Whether your prefer Bertie's sweet face or the Bertie Dog dressed as the Dog Toby, we have all manner of exciting products for you in our online store.  


Antique Image of the Day: Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret, 20 December 1938

T.R.H. Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret Rose
Gilbert Adams, 1938
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II



Photographer Gilbert Adams (1906-96, the son of the famed photographer Marcus Adams) took this photograph of Princess Elizabeth (now Queen Elizabeth II) and her sister, Princess Margaret Rose, in 1938 on December 20. Adams processed a cellulose acetate film negative stuck onto glass plate to create the image. 

The photo-portrait was commissioned by Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother. The girls, photographed from behind, are pictured sitting at the piano in the Music Room of Buckingham Palace. The future Queen’s beloved dog, “Dookie” is by Margaret's feet.

Her Majesty's Furniture: A Piano Stool. 19th C.

Piano Stool
Mid-Nineteenth Century
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II



Made in England in the mid-Nineteenth Century specifically for use in Buckingham Palace, this piano stool was constructed of costly rosewood. Adjustable in height, the stool is upholstered in a hand-made floral needlework.

The stool stands on three turned supports which are joined by a triangular stretcher. The supports stand around a central column which was designed to conceal the threading mechanism which allows the height to be adjusted. The whole of it rests on outward splaying legs with block feet.

Gifts of Grandeur: A Miniature Fabergé Piano, c. 1896

Piano by Michael Perchin
Created before 1896
Collected by Queen Mary
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II





Mikhail Evlampievich Perkhin (1860-1903, frequently listed under the anglicized version of his name, Michael Perchin) was one of Fabergé’s chief workmasters, and, undoubtedly, alongside Viktor Aarne, one of the most brilliant and prolific artists under the employ of Carl Fabergé.

Here’s a nifty example of his work—a lovely miniature piano of nephrite, two-color gold and enamel. We’re not sure the exact year that Perchin made this, but it appears to match his pre-1896 work.

The piece didn’t join the other Fabergé in the Royal Collection until it was somehow acquired by Queen Mary, Consort of George V (1867-1953), sometime between 1922-1931
Queen Mary, like her mother-in-law, Queen Alexandra, before her, had a special fondness for Fabergé’s miniature “objets de fantasie.” These include several examples of miniature furniture in the form of bonbonnières (candy dishes).

This miniature piano of Siberian nephrite is carved and polished to resemble ebonized wood. It is a nearly exact replica of the real thing. The lid opens for use as a bonbonnière and the front drops down to reveal a miniature keyboard in gold and enamel, inscribed C. Fabergé.

The piano belonged originally to Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna—niece of Queen Alexandra and King Edward VII. The piece can be clearly seen in one of the display cases in photographs of the exhibition which Fabergé held in St Petersburg in 1902. We’ll never know how Queen Mary managed to get it, but I’m not surprised that she did. The former Mary of Teck was passionate about retrieving items which once belonged to the British Royal Family or other related Royal Families so that they might be preserved. 


Regular readers of this blog know how much of a fan I am of Her Majesty Queen Mary. If you, too, are a fan of Mary of Teck, you might enjoy our “Teck Support” products—available only in our online store.


Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 74


Chapter 74: 

Wax and Wick 



“What is this place, then?” Gerard asked as he, Finlay and Charles approached a small stone cottage about a mile and a half from the main house.

“Huntin’ cottage,” Finlay explained. “Been here for centuries. First house on the land, actually. I remember the old master used to like to come out here. Funny thing is, he didn’t shoot.”

“Then, why’d he come out here?” Charles chuckled.

“To get away from the Duchess, I’d wager.”

“Never met the Duchess,” Charles shook his head.

“Gamilla did.” Gerard smiled. “Said the woman was a real terror.”

“That’s the truth, lads.” Finlay nodded. “Though last I saw her, I was a wee boy--maybe five, but I remember her like it was yesterday. She was fierce, the Duchess. I remember our pa told me to keep ‘way from her. Never could let the old master have a moment’s peace. No. Even here…” Finlay pointed to the cottage. “I recall that time she were here—just shoutin’ and eatin’ and growin’ fatter. She found the old master here one warm night. Don’t know how she made it all the way out here, she’d been stuffin’ herself so full o’ food. You could hear her screamin’ all the way up at the house. That was when she took the place over for herself. Said the Grange was too cold. Turned the whole household upside down movin’ her out here. At least, then, Sir Colin could get a little sleep in the main house on his own.”

“Did the Duchess always sleep in here after that visit?” Charles asked.

“Nah. She never came back after that time. Don’t think she ever returned to Scotland at all. Sir Colin and Lord Julian did many times. Well, he was Lord Julian, then. Still not used to callin’ him the Duke. Lady Barbara’d come sometimes, too. Not as much. She were too much like her ma.”

Charles nodded.

“Still,” Finlay continued. “She were a pretty lass. Is it true she’s dead?”

“We don’t know.” Gerard said quickly.

“But, the baby they call Colin…he’s her son?”

“Yes.” Charles replied softly.

“You…errrr…” Finlay winked at Charles. “You knew her, then?”

“I’d prefer not to talk about it.” Charles growled.

“Fine, fine. Sorry, lad.” Finlay nodded. “And, you, then, Gerry? You got eyes for the African girl, I see?”

“Maybe.” Gerard squinted.

“What about you, Finlay?” Charles smirked. “You got a girl?”

Finlay chuckled.

“Well?” Charles continued. “You seem to think you’re quite clever. Are you clever enough for a girl?”

“What do you think, Charles?” Finlay laughed.

“Don’t know, Finlay. That’s why I’m askin’. You aren’t the only one with questions.”

“Come on, Mate.” Gerard scolded Charles. “Don’t tease, ‘im. Maybe he’s like the masters, then. You know…”

“Oh, is that it?” Charles asked.

“Could be.” Finlay winked.

“Ah…” Charles and Gerard said in unison.

Finlay laughed. From his pocket he removed a large brass key which he used to open the cottage door.

“Sorry for pyring,” Charles mumbled.

“I ain’t got no secrets.” Finlay snickered. “Now, give the door a push, would ya?”

Gerry and Charles leaned on the door with their shoulders until it opened.

“Always sticks.” Finlay shook his head. “Don’t know why we bother to lock it.”

“If the door’s locked, I don’t see how Miss Barrett could have gotten in here.” Gerard grumbled. “’Specially if it’s so hard to open.”

“Aye, but if a strong-headed lass is lost out here, don’t ya think she’d find a way into a safe place like this—key or no?” Finlay responded.

“True.” Charles snorted. He stepped in the cottage and called out. “Miss Barrett?”

Hearing no response, Charles frowned. “Stupid cow. Got the whole household out lookin’ for her. Even the masters! She’s such a selfish bit of baggage, that one!”

Finlay looked at Gerard. “So, is it love or hate, then?”

“Pardon?” Gerard asked.

“All the time we been lookin’ for this lass, Charles here’s been grumblin’ ‘bout how cheeky she is and how rude and how useless. A man only says such things ‘bout a woman in two events. Either he loves her or he hates her. So, which is it?”

“Ask him.” Gerard grinned.

“Well, lad.” Finlay cocked his head to one side.

“I loathe her.” Charles growled.

“Sure ya do.” Finlay laughed.

“I do!” Charles scowled. “It’s not just me either. I know that Dr. Halifax hates her, too.”

“But, does the Duke?” Finlay asked.

“Dunno.” Gerard shrugged. “The Duke’s so nice to everyone, it’s hard to think he hates a soul. His Grace is always giving people a chance. Thankfully for both of us.”

“Sure, but Miss Barrett takes advantage.” Charles sputtered. “Look what she’s done! She’s made His Grace take care of her sick brother, but she’s rude right to his face. Right to his face! Kind as he is, too! And, she’s always doing selfish things like this. She thinks only of herself. Meanwhile, Gamilla is having to look after Colin on her own—she’s not even had a chance to get settled in her room, yet! But, does Miss Barrett care? No—she wanders out of the house all alone and, then, we all have to look for her!”

“Steady on, laddie.” Finlay chuckled. “Now, does His Grace know ‘bout this woman? Does he know she’s takin’ advantage?”

“I’m sure that the doctor’s spoken up ‘bout it.” Gerard nodded. “But, His Grace can’t imagine hurtin’ anyone’s feelin’s.”

“Killed a bloke not a month ago, though. Didn’t he?” Finlay smiled. “Maybe he don’t want to hurt no one’s feelin’s, but seems that he doesn’t mind hurtin’ a body.”

“How’d you know ‘bout that?”

“Folk talk.” Finlay shrugged. “I heard from one of the lads at Balmoral. So, did he do it? Did His Grace kill that fella?”

“He admitted to it.” Charles responded.

“That, to me, means he didn’t do it. Who’s he coverin’ for, then? That handsome doc? Is that it?” Finlay asked.

“What is it with you Scots?” Charles shook his head. “Don’t know your place.”

“Oh, look who’s talkin’!” Finlay laughed. “I saw you both with your masters—all smiles and jokes You’re more mates than you are valets. Who doesn’t know his place now?”

“Fine…” Gerard grumbled. “No, the Duke didn’t kill that fella. But, the doctor didn’t neither.”

“Gerry!” Charles spat.

“He were gonna keep at us ‘til he found out anyway.” Gerard shrugged. “Just like Mrs. North did ‘bout Colin.”

“You can trust us all.” Finlay said. “The folks in this house seen all sorts o’ things and ain’t said a word to no one. Maybe them lads at Bamoral are willin’ to talk ‘bout Their Majesties, but you’ll find us at the Grange to be a good deal more loyal.”

“I’m glad.” Charles replied, still looking around the cottage.

“She ain’t here.” Gerard shook his head. “Let’s keep lookin’.”

“Wait.” Charles squinted. He sniffed the air.

“What is it, lad?” Finlay asked.

“I smell wax and wick…” Charles walked over to a small candle stand and touched the taper. “This has been lit. It’s still soft.”

“No one’s been in here since two days ago when we readied the place for the master’s arrival.” Finlay raised his eyebrows. “Not one of us, anyway.”

“Miss Barrett has been in here.” Charles frowned. “I’m sure of it.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-73? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 75 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.



Painting of the Day: The Interior of the Royal Yacht, Victoria and Albert II

Watercolor by Edwin Aaron Penley, 1864
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II



The Royal Yacht, not surprisingly called HMY The Victoria and Albert II (launched 1855, scrapped 1904), was as elegantly appointed as possible and was as neatly outfitted as any of the Royal residences. Always prepared for Queen Victoria, Princess Albert and their growing number of children, the yacht was kept in a constant state of readiness.

In 1864, Queen Victoria commissioned artists to create watercolors which would serve as color records of the interior decoration of the Royal residences, including the yacht. This watercolor drawing by Edwin Aaron Penley (1844-1890) shows the Queen’s Drawing Room on HMY The Victoria & Albert II. The furniture in this compartment was of maple. Against the wall to left is a piano by Erard. 

Since this was painted in 1864, we know that Victoria was already three years into her mourning the death of Prince Albert. Because of this, her special black-edged writing paper lies on the table in foreground. 

I can’t find any evidence of the Erard piano from this drawing. I’m not sure if it was preserved or if it’s still part of the Royal Collection. There are two upright pianos by Erard in the Royal Collection, and, I think, three grand pianos. Picture below is another piano by the same maker which is still rattling around Buckingham Palace somewhere.  


Piano by Erard
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II