Unfolding Pictures: The Cabriolet Fan, 1755

In the 1750’s, the French went quite mad over the introduction of the cabriolet—a new type of carriage which was so lightweight that it could be pulled by only one horse. The cabriolet was the height of fashion, so much so that it became iconic of the era. Ladies designed patches shaped like a cabriolet to adorn their faces, and atop their heads, they wore elaborate wigs and hats fashioned to resemble this popular means of transportation. Men even had images of cabriolets sewn into their stockings.

The Cabriolet Fan
French, 1755
Acquired by Mary of Teck
Paper, Ivory, Mother-of-Pearl
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

This obsession, of course, irritated the English, who thought the French people excessive, but nonetheless mimicked them. Cabriolet fans were crafted with scenes of merry people riding in the contraptions. Very often these fans were quite elaborately assembled with not simply one leaf on the sticks, but several concentric leaves.

This fan with carved ivory sticks, paper leaves and mother-of-pearl guards shows a scene of courtiers riding in a cabriolet. It is listed in the official documents of the Royal Collection as having been purchased in 1915 by Queen Mary. Other records, however indicate that this fan, for decades, belonged to Ida, Lady Bradford—one of Mary of Teck’s closest friends and “Extra Lady of the Bedchamber.” It is documented that Mary of Teck had long admired this rare antique fan, and that to oblige her friend, Lady Bradford gave the fan to the Queen. Regardless of how she came to own it, Queen Mary proudly displayed the fan in a gilt case in her bedroom at Marlborough House for many years.

Object of the Day, Museum Edition: The Bow Porcelain Sheep, 1765

Sheep
Bow Porcelain Factory
England, 1765
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Made at England’s Bow Porcelain Factory, this figure of soft-paste porcelain sates to about 1765. This little sheep is painted with enamel colors. He’s shown standing beside a stump which is adorned with large leaves and flowers with yellow centers and white petals. As sheep tend to do, he is eating the grass and plants around him. This is a great example of the sort of figure which was popular during the Rococo movement. Even the base is Rococo with its six, low feet which have been picked out in green and purple. 

Mastery of Design: Carnet-de-Bal With Miniatures of an Unknown Lady and Gentleman

Carnet-de-Bal
Circa 1790
French
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

This carnet-de-bal (case for a dance card) was made between 1790 and 1795.  Many years later, on Christmas Day of 1937, the case was given to Queen Mary by Sir Philip Sassoon.

Her Majesty cataloged the carnet case as featuring portraits of "an unknown lady and gentleman."  

The case, constructed of gray enamel over gold is mounted with chased colored gold rims and, on the front and back, oval miniature portraits in enamels, set in diamond frames adorned with birds and flowers.  Inside, the case is fitted with an ivory tablet and pencil upon which a lady could write the order of the men with whom she would dance that night.

The gentleman can be identified vaguely as a Knight of St Louis.  In this bust-length portrait, he is facing forward and wearing a short gray wig, the blue uniform of his order with a breast-plate and the badge of the military Order of St Louis.

On the other side, the portrait of a lady presents her, also bust-length, facing forward.  She is wearing a pale blue dress with a large white bow.  Her powdered hair is tied with a blue ribbon.

We can deduce that the carnet case was made in France as The Order of St Louis was instituted by Louis XIV in 1693 as a means of rewarding officers distinguished either in military action or for long service. The style of the case and painting and the dress of the figures in the portraits suggest a date of the early 1790s.

Carnet-de-Bal
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Painting of the Day: A Portrait Miniature of Mary, the Princess Royal, 1912

Victoria Alexandra Alice Mary
The Princess Royal
Aged Fifteen Years
Turrell, 1912
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Painted in 1912 by Charles Turrell, this watercolor on ivory miniature shows the King George V’s and Queen Mary’s third child, Mary, the Princess Royal around age 15.


Wearing the Garter of the Order of Victoria and Albert, Mary looks quite a lot like her mother. With her creamy skin and wheat-colored curls, she carries herself with the same dignity that Queen Mary did.

Oddly enough, Turrell painted this miniature and never presented it to the King and Queen. Instead, he kept it. His widow presented the piece to the Victoria & Albert Museum in 1932.

Unusual Artifacts: A Miniature Vinaigrette, 1800

Miniature Vinaigrette
1800
The Victoria and Albert Museum

Here we have a miniature vinaigrette which is designed to resemble a coffee table (in gold) with a coffee service of six coffee cups with saucers and spoons, a sugar bowl with spooon and a coffee pot (in parcel gilt) attached to the top. The wee table featues cabriole legs and a hinged top.

If you’re not familiar with the term, “vinaigrettes” were boxes designed to hold scented sponges. These were used by both men and women to prevent inevitable fainting fits and counteract the myroad unpleasant smells inherent to life in the city.

When the Victoria & Albert Musem acquired this miniature vinaigrette it contained a card from the donor which offered the following story:

This vinaigrette was the property of Princess Charlotte (daughter of George IV) who died in 1817. An ancestor of mine, name probably Wyatt, was librarian to the above King and saved the vinaigrette when the princess threw it into the fire in a fit of temper. I cannot verify this account but I think it probably correct.

According to the V&A, research indicates that there never was a royal librarian with the name of Wyatt. However, the architect James Wyatt and his son Matthew Cotes Wyatt were frequent visitors to the palaces during this period.

I imagine that Princess Charlotte—throughout her short, unhappy life—had many reasons to throw a variety of objects into the fire. So, I like to think that this story is true. 

The Art of Play: A Silver Toy Coffee Pot, 1720

The Victoria & Albert Museum

This miniature coffee pot is a toy in the sense that, in the Eighteenth Century, any knick-knack or fashionable trinket for adults, as well as a child’s plaything, was called a toy. If you think about it, the same idea is still true today. Whether it’s a plush animal or a diamond ring, something that amuses us is still a toy—luxurious or not.

This particular “toy” is made of silver and the maker took great care to copy the exact details and proportions of a full-size coffee pot. Silver toys like this might have been designed to furnish dolls’ houses. Some might have been miniature trade samples. Others were made as practice pieces for apprentices.

However, more so than anything else, these items were made as fashionable novelties for adults to collect and as playthings for the children of wealthy families. Because they were light and small, silver toys are not fully hallmarked, so it’s hard to say who the maker of this particular example might have been.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 366

Chapter 366
Stepping Over



At the suggestion of the Queen's Guards, Lennie, Maude, Gamilla and Fern were escorted by Gerard from Hamish House via the garden door.  Punch instructed the women to try to put the events of that morning out of their minds, and, smiling at Gamilla, reminded them that they had a wedding for which to prepare.

Gerard took Gamilla's hand.  "Unless you want to wait, 'Milla."

"Never."  Gamilla shook her head.  "I don't want to wait one more minute than I gotta."

With that, the women left the house and returned to No. 65 as Punch, Robert and Johnny poke to the guards.  After Robert confirmed that Orpha and Marduk were very much dead. the group was joined by Ulrika Rittenhouse and Giovanni both of whom confirmed that what had happened was an accident.  Punch wasn't sure when or how Ulrika had convinced Giovanni to cooperate, but he was glad that the man did.  In a way...  Part of Punch wished for Ulrika and her lover to be uncooperative so that he might have a chance to give the litany of their crimes to the guards.

The men from the palace sent for the police and a mortician.  Ulrika even volunteered to pay for the burial of Marduk and Orpha.  Certain that all questions had been answered, Punch and Robert, arm-in-arm, stepped over the battered corpses and made their way toward No. 65.

Johnny Donnan followed them.

Punch knew that the man would.  He hoped, in fact, that Johnny would follow, though he wasn't sure what he'd tell the man.

Punch stopped, patting Robert's arm and turned.

"Mr. Donnan, I want to thank ya for what you done for us."

"I tried to warn Gerard,"  Johnny said.  "I wager he didn't read me letter."

"I'm sure he didn't,"  Robert shook his head.  "The fact is, Mr. Donnan, you're not well-liked in our household."

"I know it."  Johnny looked down.

"Today you showed yourself a changed man,"  Robert continued.  "You bravely helped to protect us, and we really are grateful.  His Grace and I would like to offer you a token of our thanks."

"Oh, Sir, I don't want nothin'.  All I need is a place to sleep and some food in me stomach."

Punch sighed softly.  "I'm sorry, Johnny, only we can't offer ya that, and you know well why we can't."

"My daughter."  Johnny nodded.

"That's just it.  My sister ain't nobody's daughter.  That's the way she wishes to think of it.  She's Lady Fallbridge now.  She's got the family she always wished for.  She's engaged to be married to an Earl.  If you were to work in our household, it would be...well, Johnny, it'd be strange for her.  We can't have that.  You understand?"

"I do, Your Grace."  Johnny replied.  "I'd not wish for a moment to make the girl unhappy."

"I'm glad."  Punch smiled.

"Perhaps, though, you could maybe recommend me for service elsewhere.  Someplace maybe her Ladyship would be unlikely to be?"

Punch and Robert looked at one another.

"All the folk what we know,"  Punch began, "are courtiers, and, really, they're folk what Her Ladyship is bound to see."

"Not all of them."  Robert shook his head.  "There's a club, specifically for physicians.  I am a member though I've no reason to go now that I have a home and a family.  Still, I'm sure they could always use an able man downstairs.  I'm not suggesting anything in livery, but something like working in the gardens or with the heavy work in the scullery."

"Oh, Your Lordship, that'd be fine indeed!"  Johnny nodded.  "And, then, I could stay here and look for poor Mr. Stover."

"Ah, yes."  Robert nodded.  "Well, then, I'll send a letter to them in the morning.  Why don't you come by--downstairs--the day after tomorrow and we'll have an answer for you as well as a gift thanking you for your recent service."

"Will you be able to find a place to sleep until then?"  Punch asked.

"I'll get by, Your Grace."  Johnny nodded.  "Thank you."

"And, thank you, Johnny."  Punch nodded.

With that, they turned and walked away.

Speaight opened the door for them before they even reached it.

"Ah, Speaight."  Robert smiled.  "Thank you."

"Finally, Speaight,"  Punch said as he entered the house, "I think our ordeal is over."

"Not quite, Your Grace,"  Speaight shook his head.  "I'm sorry to say there's still the issue of Ruthy."

"Ruthy?"  Punch raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, Your Grace."  Speaight replied.  "It seems it was she who gave entrance to Miss Rittenhouse and Mr. Iantosca so that they might take Gamilla."

Punch's shoulders sagged.  "One of our own..."

"Where is she now?"  Robert asked.

"Locked in a cupboard downstairs."  Speaight admitted.

Punch took Robert's hand and headed for the service stairs.  "Come on, Chum.  You can help me bash 'er head in."


Did you miss Chapters 1-365 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 367.