Mastery of Design: The Fabergé Pear, 1903

Pear by Michael Perchin
1903
Acquired by Edward VII and Queen Alexandra
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

I wish the tree in my backyard grew these. Created for Fabergé in 1903 by Michael Perchin (or, Mikhail Evlampievich Perkhin, depending on your language of choice) (1860-1903), this pear is made of nephrite mounted with gold and diamonds.

The object is actually a small box and cover. Fabergé and his craftsmen took great pride in elevating the simplest of items as well as offering realism in their designs. For example, this pear even features a reeded gold stem which terminates in a diamond as well as leaves of gold which have been accentuated with “dewdrops” of diamonds. The rim of the box’s base is also densely set with a band of rose-cut diamonds. 


This box was part of a large suite of Fabergé desk accessories which were acquired by King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra.

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

The Art of Play: Princess Elizabeth's Doll's Fan, 1938

Doll's Fan
Duvelleroy, Paris, 1938
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

In 1938, on the occasion of the State Visit to France by King George VI and Queen Elizabeth (the Queen Mother), the children of France presented two dolls and an elaborate wardrobe and accessory suite (including a motor car) to Princess Elizabeth (now Queen Elizabeth II) and Princess Margaret Rose. This miniature fan made by Duvelleroy in Paris was part of the collection.

The most famous and celebrated couturiers and craftsmen in Paris at the time collaborated to create the two dolls’ trousseaux. The gift also serves as testament to the ingenuity and style of the French fashion world. This was one of four fans which were made for the dolls. The set also included to folding ostrich fans. All four original fan boxes survive in the Royal Collection.


The dolls and all of their little things were displayed at St. James Palace. The proceeds from the exhibition were donated to The Princess Elizabeth of York Hospital for Children and a French charity. The dolls and their trousseaux, today, remain on public view beside Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House, at the entrance to the State Apartments in Windsor Castle.

Treat of the Week: A Pear and Cherry Strudel with Brown Sugar Ice Cream and Butterscotch Sauce

This week’s Sunday dinner began with gorgeous grilled chicken and spinach quesadilla, luxurious homemade guacamole, limed rice, beans and fresh lemon-limeade. Needless to say, we ate far too much, but, of course, we still had room for dessert. 

Following the meal, we enjoyed a delightful pear and cherry strudel which my mother had just made. Now, I’m particularly proud of this because, for the strudel, my mother used pears which I had brought her from my very own pear tree! Yay! I grew produce! The strudel’s tender homemade crust was a wonderful counterpoint to the chewiness of the dried cherries and the firmness of the pears. Drizzled with a made-from-scratch butterscotch sauce, it was heaven. But, heaven always has more room for goodness, it seems. Along with this, we had a sumptuous dulce-de-leche like homemade brown sugar ice cream adorned with the butterscotch sauce and mini-chocolate chips. And, yes, I’m going to post a link to the Cuisinart Ice Cream Maker again because it’s the best little appliance you could ever want—well, if you want to make ice cream. 

So, I have a question for all of you. I’ve been thinking of collaborating with my mother to create a cookbook called “Eating the Belle Époque” which would feature the recipes for many of the “Treats of the Week” which you’ve seen here since 2010. However, before spend the many, many hours required to embark on such a project, we’d like to know if that’s something all of you might like to see. What do you think?

Gifts of Grandeur: Queen Mary's Coronation Fan, 1911

Queen Mary's Coronation Fan
Honiton, England, 1911
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

This lovely fan with its cream cotton lace leaf, and plain blond tortoiseshell guards and sticks was made for the 1911 Coronation of King George V and Queen Mary. The front guard of the fan has been applied with the gold monogram “MR” (Mary Regina) surmounted by a crown. The fan ends in a gold pin with diamond heads and a gold loop.

The fan was presented by the Worshipful Company of Fan Makers to Queen Mary on the day of the Coronation: June 22, 1911. The lace for the fan was made in Honiton and features a design with four shields of arms and a decorative border containing the rose, thistle and shamrock. It was a favorite of Queen Mary. Records from the Royal Collection show that the fan was frequently “in use,” notably when Queen Mary took the fan to India for use during the Durbar celebrations.

A similar fan was made in 1937 for Queen Elizabeth (the Queen Mother) on the occasion of the coronation she shared with her husband, King George VI. The 1937 fan was said to have been made by the children of those who made the fan for Queen Mary in 1911. 

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 77

Chapter 77: 

A Great Expense 



Dog Toby trotted over to join Mr. Punch and Colin. The terrier stoutly walked over to the large armchair where Punch sat with Colin on his lap. Reaching up with one paw, Dog Toby tapped the cushion of the chair, looking up with wide, expectant eyes.

“Here,” Punch smiled. “You wanna sit with us, then? You can jump.”

The terrier jumped up into the chair and, circling awkwardly a few times, wedged himself beside Punch, resting his head against the baby who gurgled happily.

“Did ya hear, Dog Toby?” Punch grinned. “Our Colin said a word today.”

Punch looked at the child. “You did, my Colin. You said ‘Punch.’ Can you say ‘Punch’ again?”

The child looked up and studied Punch’s face, extending his tiny hand to grab for Punch’s nose.

“Got me nose, did ya?” Punch chuckled.

“Puh…” Collin gurgled. “Puh…nnnn..ch.”

“Oh!” Punch whooped softly. “Oh, dear. You’re so smart, you are. So very wonderful. You’re such a good boy!”

“Punch…” Colin answered intently.

“My, my, my…” Punch grinned so broadly his face ached. “I’m so proud. You’re such a good boy.”

“Duuhhh…eeeee…” Colin squinted.

“What’s that?” Punch asked.

“Duh…eee…rrrr.” Colin said slowly.

“Dear?” Mr. Punch giggled.

“Dear Punch…” Colin cooed.

“How about that?” Punch sniffed, tears welling up in his eyes. “Dear Punch! You’re so good, my Colin. So good!”

Colin drowsily nuzzled into his father’s arms.

“You’re gonna say so many things, my boy.” Punch sniffed again. “And, I’m so proud that it’s me what was your first. We gotta teach ya how to say, ‘Father’ and ‘Uncle Robert.’ Though,” Punch paused. “He’s not really your uncle.” Punch thought about this for a moment—considering the fact that he, not Robert, was actually the child’s uncle. What a pity that the child couldn’t refer to both of them as “Father.”

“You know,” Punch began. “I used to come here with me own father.” Punch squinted for a moment. “Here, since you’re learning to talk from us, you’d best learn to talk correctly—not like I do, but more like Julian does. I’d best be careful, I’d wager, how I say things.”

Mr. Punch smiled softly. “You don’t know Julian. Will you ever understand? How’m I gonna…errr…going to explain to you that I’m so many different things. I’m your father, but your uncle. I’m Mr. Punch, but I’m also Julian, and…well…a few others.” He shook his head. “But, none of that is anything you need to know today.”

Colin yawned.

“Sleepy, then?” Punch nodded. “You had an exciting day. The air here is better for sleep than it is in London. Julian slept better here than he did in London—even in Yorkshire at Fallbridge Hall. Oh! I remember one night when we were here. Julian was about eleven years old. We come here…I mean, we came here without the Duchess—that was your grandmother. Your grandfather came here so he could treat the staff to a special day and he brought me…or Julian…but, I was there, too.”

Punch sighed. “It’s confusin’, I know.” He smiled, tickling the child’s stomach gently. “See, there was a tradition here. Don’t do it anymore. We don’t, I mean. We haven’t done it in many years, but Sir Colin always used to host the Servants’ Ball here. What a time we’d have—pipers and such wonderful food. Folks from the nearby estates would come and the servants would have a night to dance and make merry. Some years, even, they’d wear fancy dress. I remember one year where the servants dressed as lords and ladies and the lords and ladies dressed like footmen and maids. Those were good times. I’d watch from the gallery. See, Julian were too shy to go down with all them big folks.” He shook his head. “I mean with all of the adult people. Still, he’d watch and because he watched, I could, too. I’m sure you’d like it.”

Mr. Punch looked down to see that Colin had fallen asleep. Dog Toby had, too.

Punch nodded. “I wonder if maybe we ought to have a Servants’ Ball. These folk been waitin’ here for so long—all alone in this house, takin’ care o’ it. Just waitin’ for someone to come. They deserve a treat. Maybe we could bring Ethel and Jenny and Georgie and Vi from London. I don’t s’pose there’d be harm in shuttin’ up the house on Belgrave Square for a few days. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

Sinking down further into the chair, Mr. Punch looked up at the clock. “No tea, supper’s late. All cuz of Miss Barrett. Here,” he looked down at the sleeping child, “I wish you could tell me what you think of Miss Barrett. You seem to like her fine, and, I seen how nice she is to you. But, your Uncle Robert, he don’t like her so much. I don’t think the boys do either. Your chum Gamilla does.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “I thought she were a good choice. Seemed so. I know she’s got many worries, that one. Maybe this holiday will help her feel better, too. I know I already feel like me-self ‘gain.”

Chuckling softly, Punch whispered, “But, you’re sleepin’ and I’ll stop talkin’ now.”

Mr. Punch wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after awhile, Robert came into the room.

“Well?” Punch smiled. “What of Miss Barrett?”

“She actually is ill.” Robert shrugged. “She’s feverish and her lungs are congested.”

“Would the fever make her act all strange like she is?” Punch asked.

“It very well could.” Robert nodded. “I’ve told her to stay in her room. Gamilla will take up her duties until she’s recovered.”

Mr. Punch nodded. “You still think somethin’s queer ‘bout the whole thing, don’t ya?”

“I do.” Robert frowned. “I don’t know what. But, I do. Let’s use this time while Miss Barrett is recovering to consider her continued employment with us.”

“Sure,” Punch smiled.

“How is our boy?” Robert asked, walking over to stroke Colin’s hair.

“He said ‘Dear Punch.’” Punch beamed.

“Did he?” Robert asked excitedly.

“Jus’ like you do.” Punch replied proudly.

“I wish I’d heard it.” Robert sighed.

“You will. He’s only just begun. You’re gonna hear a lot from him, I’m sure.”

Robert grinned.

“Chum, I’m hungry.” Punch whispered.

“I’ve no doubt.” Robert chuckled. “Mrs. Pepper almost has dinner ready for us. Charles, Gerard and Finlay have returned. I saw them when I passed through the servants’ hall. They were none too pleased to discover that Miss Barrett was in the house all the time. Charles looked especially put-out. He started to tell me something about a cottage on the estate, but Gerard interrupted him.”

“There’s a hunting lodge,” Punch nodded. “On the edge of the property. Been there forever—long before the Grange were built.”

“Ah.” Robert nodded. “Is that the stone building that I saw in the distance.”

“Yes.” Punch said. “Sir Colin would go there quite a lot. Funny you should mention it, I were jus’ tellin’ Colin ‘bout some of Sir Colin’s traditions.”

“Such as?”

“The Servants’ Ball.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a chance for the staff to have a bit o’ fun. Sometimes fancy dress. We’d hire folks from the town to serve and, then, the staff could have a night of their own. Usually, the gentry from the nearby estates would be invited to come. Everyone would dance and eat and drink.”

“Sounds charming.”

“It really was.” Punch smiled. “I were thinkin’, maybe we ought to do that—you know, as a reward for the folks here. We could send for the others from London.”

“That’s quite an expense.”

“True,” Punch laughed, “but, it ain’t like we don’t got ‘nough gold just sittin’ ‘round.”

“You’ll have to pardon my thriftiness.” Robert grinned. “I’m not accustomed to this sort of life.”

“It’s very Scots of you.” Punch teased.

“Actually, the staff does deserve a reward. Especially those from the London house. They’ve endured so much these few weeks and, the boys and Gamilla were especially good during your…illness.”

“So, we can do it?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Good, I’ll talk with Speaight and Mrs. North ‘bout it in the mornin’.” Punch answered excitedly.

“Still, we’d best not plan anything definite until we see how Miss Barrett comes along.”

“Right.” Punch agreed. A sly look crossed his face. “You’re gonna have to wear your kilt.”

“I rather guessed that.” Robert sighed.

From downstairs, the dressing gong rang.

“That’s for us.” Robert inhaled.

“Here, help me…” Punch looked at the child.

Robert lifted Colin from the chair and carried him to his bassinette. “Gamilla will be up in a moment.”

“I’ll stay with Colin while you get dressed. I’ll bet Gerry’s waitin’ in your room already.”

“Very well.” Robert answered. “I shall see you shortly.”

“And, we’ll eat!’ Punch said with relief.

“Yes.” Robert nodded. “I’ll be fast.” With that, he left the room.

Punch watched Colin sleep for awhile, petting Dog Toby who remained next to him.

The door from the adjoining room squeaked open as Charles entered.

“Your Grace?” Charles nodded as he came in. “It’s time to dress for dinner.”

Glancing at the child, Mr. Punch pursed his lips. “I s’pose if we leave the door open, it’ll be all right.”

“Gamilla’s on her way up, Sir.” Charles nodded. “She was just behind me.”

Punch rose from his chair and walked toward Charles.

“Did ya hear? Collin said his first words.”

“Gamilla told me.” Charles smiled. “Soon, he’ll be giving speeches in the House of Lords.”

“Not too soon, I hope.” Punch chuckled.

“Sir?” Charles said softly.

“What is it, Charles?”

“I’d like to discuss something with you.”

Punch frowned. “Sounds serious.”

“It is, Your Grace.”

“What’s it all ‘bout?”

“The safety of your family, Sir.” Charles replied.



Did you miss Chapters 1-76 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 78.

Unfolding Pictures: The Reading Fan, 1870

The Reading Fan
Front
England, 1870
Presented to Queen Alexandra when Princess of Wales
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Made in England in 1870, this attractive fan features a paper leaf with mother-of-pearl sticks and guards and a chased gold loop. This fan, from the Royal Collection, was once owned by Queen Alexandra (“Bertie, I can’t hear you”), Consort of fuzzy man-about-town King Edward VII.

The fan was presented to Alexandra (1844-1925) while she was still the Princess of Wales. She was, in fact, the Princess of Wales for a really long time since her mother-in-law, Queen Victoria, lived almost forever and Edward didn’t ascend the throne until 1901. The Mayor and Corporation of Reading presented the fan to the Princess of Wales one hundred forty-two years and one day ago on July 1, 1870, on the occasion of the laying of the foundation stone of Reading School by the Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII). The date is inscribed on the verso.

The new school at Reading was designed by Alfred Waterhouse (1830-1905). The structure replaced one that had been founded by Henry VII. Along with the presentation of the fan to the Princess to commemorate the occasion was to be an address by the Reading Mayor. However, much to the Princess’ relief—since she probably couldn’t have heard a word of it anyway—the address was not read aloud, but rather presented in a novel way.

The speech had been reduced by photography (a technology which very much fascinated Alexandra, a known shutterbug), and was mounted in a delicately carved mother-of-pearl and gold frame. This was tied by a ribbon terminating in a gold and blue enamel “A,” to the gold fan loop along with a solid gold vinaigrette adorned on one side with the coronet and monogram of the Princess, and, on the other an inscription commemorating the date.

The fan leaf, inscribed MARCUS WARD DELT. and HOWELL JAMES & CO. is painted, in the center with two intertwined letters—“A”—surmounted by the Prince of Wales’s coronet. Flanking this are views of Reading School and Reading Abbey, with the arms of Reading and of the Princess of Wales. All of this, as well as a miniature version of the fan—was presented in a fitted box. Sadly, only the large fan remains—the vinaigrette, frame, ribbon and miniature fan having since been divorced from the original set and, consequently, lost. I would guess they’re somewhere in Sandringham in a drawer along with a bunch of other things which Alexandra—when Queen—squirreled away. 

Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Object of the Day: A Fan-Shaped Card, 1891

Click image above to enlarge

Scrapbooking, as we know, is not just the modern pastime of craft-inclined people, it was the hobby of many a Victorian lady. In fact, the very principles of scrapbooking developed during the reign of Queen Victoria. The term arises from the paper scraps which could be purchased for this and other decorative purposes. The trade cards at which we’ve been looking often found their way into scrapbooks as did cartes de visite and cabinet cards as well as souvenirs, ribbons, tickets, programs, notes, etc.

In addition to the scraps which were sold, then—like today—little decorative paper shapes were available to jazz up your scrapbook. This card may, in fact, be one of them. However, I think that this delicate fan-shape owes more to careful hand-cutting with scissors than it does being cut with a die. Often, little scraps—like the one we see mounted on this fan-shaped card—were displayed on these fancy shapes in order to frame them within the scrapbook.

Personally, I think this was the handiwork of someone with better scissor-skills than I possess. It has all of the hallmarks of being handmade. To begin with, the fact that the paper seems to be reclaimed from something else indicates to me that this is the clever work of some long-gone young lady. I’m thinking that she—whoever she was—made this as a mount for the pretty little scrap that we still see on it. She even signed the back. I believe she presented this to a friend—as was the habit of the time—who, then, mounted it into her own scrapbook.

The colorful scrap is just as brilliant as the day this unknown girl glued it to the fan. A robin—against a bed of flowers—holds a card in his beak which reads:

May you be as happy 
As little Robin red 
Your heart aglow
     with sunshine 
E’en when summer’s fled! 

That’s very sweet. Isn’t it? 

Let’s look at the back. It is signed:

Mrs. T.K. Cushman 

     Oct. 15, 1891