Sculpture of the Day: The Needy Peasant,1760-1800

The Needy Peasant
Bernhard Caspar Hardy
Germany, 1760-1800
The Victoria & Albert Museum

This curious sculpture of wax and textiles was created by Bernhard Caspar Hardy (1726-1819) in Cologne, Germany between 1760 and 1800.

In the late Eighteenth Century, Hardy was one of the most popular modelers in Germany, known for his sensitive depictions of sentimental subjects and his ability to mimic the style of the fashionable paintings and engravings of the time.

This relief, entitled “The Poor Man Prays” is modeled in relief in wax and attired in fabric to create his jacket, hat and waistcoat. The wax figure has been built up on black glass which was later set in a wooden frame. This is one of two similar models by Hardy in the collection of the V&A.

Precious Time: The Roman Charity Watch and Case, 1680-1700

Watch and Case
Switzerland, 1680-1700
This and all related images from:
The Victoria & Albert Museum

This watch is housed in a copper gilt case which, along with the timepiece, has been enameled with a variety of Italian scenes including “Roman Charity” and “Lucretia.” Made in Geneva, Switzerland, the movement is signed “Baccuet.” Created between 1680 and 1700, the enameling was done by the family team of Jean Pierre (1655-1723) and Ami Huaud (1657-1724). Their competent enamel work on the scene of “Roman Charity” was based on an engraving by Claude Mellan which itself was after a painting by Simon Vouet. 

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 167

Chapter 167:
That I Am 



“Yes?” Baron Lensdown sniffed irritably as he answered the door to his chamber.

“You—come with me.” Johnny Donnan grunted.

“Pardon me, my good man?” Lensdown replied effetely.

“You’re needed.”

“By whom exactly?” Lensdown frowned.

“You’re needed.” Johnny repeated.

“Is it my wife?” The baron asked. “Has she taken ill? Did the shock of the past evening cause her to become worse?”

“Ain’t yer wife.”

“What is it, then?”

“Do ya know who I am?” Johnny growled.

“Yes.” Lensdown answered slowly. “You’re the stableman.”

“And?”

“Don’t let’s be coy with one another, Mr. Donnan.” Baron Lensdown smirked.

“Come with me, then.”

“Whatever for? We’ve no business. We’ve no connection to one another.`”

“You lay with my offspring. There’s yer connection.”

“So, you’ve been talking with Finlay, have you? I suppose he was very quick to boast of his conquest.” The baron muttered.

“Finlay?” Johnny roared.

The baron’s face went pale. He grabbed the baron by the shoulders.

“Unhand me.” The baron croaked.

“A brother and a sister?” Johnny howled.

“Not at once,” The baron struggled.

“You come with me now.” Johnny spat, digging his thumbs into the baron’s flesh.

“You’re hurting…” The baron moaned.

“Good.”

“What do you want with me?” Lensdown pleaded.

“I don’t.” Johnny snapped as he dragged the baron from his room. “My child does.”

“If Finlay wants me, then…”

“Not Finlay!” Johnny tightened his grip as the baron squealed. “Ellen!”

“Ellen?” The baron sputtered. “She’s dead.”

“Why do ya say that, lad?” Johnny smirked, taking delight in the sound of the baron’s heels dragging against the stone floor.

“I was in the passage when the Duke struck the fatal blow. I heard it all. I saw her dead. Just as I saw you do the same to the Duke’s man that you’re doing to me.”

“She wants ya.”

“How does a dead woman…” The baron again tried to struggle, but Johnny held fast.

“My girl wants ya to join her…”

“You’re mad!” The baron squawked, believing that Johnny was going to kill him.

“Yes.” Johnny laughed. “That I am.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-166? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 167 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Figure of the Day: Caritas, c. 1759

Caritas
Germany, 1759
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Made in Fürstenberg, Germany (presumably where the family of Diane is von), this figure group of hard-paste porcelain depicts a woman wearing a head-cloth and a flowered smock. Seated upon the sort of Rococo base one would expect from a German figure of the 1750s, the woman is nursing a child while other children are flitting about in various stages of dress. The group obviously is meant to represent Caritas (Charity). It’s the work of the Fürstenberg Porcelain Factory’s chief modeler Johann Christoph Rombrich and dates to about 1759. 

Object of the Day: Charity's Home

Click on image to see a picture with no relation whatsoever to the copy.

Well, I have no idea.

I decided that I would sit down and type the copy from the reverse of this page and see where it took me. After a lot of dialogue and a peculiar use of the affectionate term of “glow worm,” the copy finally told me that this was an ad for Met Life Insurance. It’s the twelfth of something. I’d guess that it’s twelfth chapter of an ongoing insurance-themed saga. It appears to be a page from a booklet since it just cuts off.

The obverse gives us a nice look at a little girl with a puppy. This doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the story of Israel and Charity and their shotgun house. Still, it’s a strangely compelling read.

Judge for yourself. I insist. I took the time to type it.

12. 

CHARITY’S HOME 

AND HOW IT WAS PAID FOR 

A FEW years ago, my wife said to me one morning:

“Israel, we must have a home of our own.”

Said I: “Charity, it’s just impossible; we hain’t the means.”

Said she: “Israel, we hain’t the means to pay the rent these people charge, that’s clear.”

She began washing up the breakfast things, and off I went to duty.

In the evening, Charity said to me, as we sat down to supper:

“Israel, I’ve bought a lot.”

I srpanf up from my chair and said: “You’ve bought what?”

“A lot.” Said she.

“A lot?” Said I.

“A lot.” Said she.

“Well!” said I and sat down again and went for the tea and biscuit. When I came to, I said to my wife: “Just explain yourself, Charity.”

“I’ve bought a lot,” said she. “Mr. Dodd says the fifty dollars down are satisfactory, and the rest may run at six per cent. Twenty feet front, one hundred feet deep—two thousand feet at twn cents a foot, two hundred dollars. Fifty paid, one hundred and fifty due.”

“But, Charity, how about a house?”

“All right, Israel. I’ve made a contract with Chipps & Cullings; house, shed and fence, fifteen hundred and fifty.”

“Charity!”

“Israel, honey, don’t talk please. You men—“

“Charity, are you?”

“Deranged, eh? No, love, not a bit. One hundred dollars cash when possession is given--”

“But, Charity--”

“Stop a minute. You know, Israel, we can never get our large bureau, nor our large sofa, nor our high-post bedstead, nor our large dining table, nor our large wardrobe into this little four-room house. That’s clear, hain’t it?”

“Well?”

“Well, then, we’ll sell them all, and the proceeds will meet these two cash payments.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly, with a little difference, may be. So, you see.”

“But, how can we do without those things?”

“As easy as you will do without cigars; as easy as you will be your own barber and boot-black; as easy as we’ll both take our breakfast without half-dollar butter; as easy as I’ll make all last winter’s clothes carry me through next winter; as easy as I’ll carry you through, nice and genteel, on the same principle; as easy as--”

“Charity!”

“Well?”

“As easy as I’ll do without a “breakfaster” and a “nooner” and a “night-cap,” and my cigars, and an occasional theatre ticket, and--”

“Exactly, old glow-worm.”

“Well—well. Suppose we should do without these things, and I should be taken away before it is paid, where would our own—my Charity’s home—be then?”

“Oh, you can get your life insured in the METROPOLITAN, and make that all safe.”

“Darling, here’s with you!” I never saw debts squared off so soon. Two hundred and fifteen hundred make seventeen; and one hundred and fifty cash, paid off by proceeds of surplus furniture, leaves fifteen hundred and fifty. Fifty dollars a month pays this off in—no, not thirty-one months, because the interest and insurance payments put it off somewhat…

Mastery of Design: The Cory Jade and Ruby Necklace, c. 1825

Click image for detail.

The Cory Jade Necklace
France, 1820-1830
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Gold filigree, cannetille and grainti decoration give this handsome necklace the unmistakable style of the late 1820s to early 1830s. While we don’t know the maker, it’s a safe assumption that it was made in France because of the fineness of the gold work. The necklace is set with jade, chrysoprases, and rubies. It is part of the collection of Lady Cory which now lives in the V&A. 

Figure of the Day: Beltrame and Columbine, 1740

Beltrame and Columbine
Meissen, c. 1740
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Made in 1740, this figure group was manufactured by the Meissen Porcelain Factory and was modeled by my favorite Meissen modeler, Johann Joachim Kändler (1706 -1775). The group of hard-paste porcelain depicts the “Spanish Lovers,” Beltrame and Columbine. Both are dressed in the theatrical style which was favored by modelers of the time. Rococo flowers adorn the base.