Mastery of Design: The Dame Joan Evans Filigree Necklace, 1825-30

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Necklace of Gold Mesh, chrysoprase, rubies and diamonds.
France, c. 1825
From the Collection of Dame Joan Evans
The Victoria & Albert Museum

In the 1820s, gold was put to good use in a variety of new ways--mesh necklaces and bracelets, gold chain and wire work became the fashion. Colored golds also became quite popular.  Goldsmith experimented with colors.  For example:  in gold alloy more copper gives a redder gold, while extra zinc or zinc and silver will result in a pale yellow gold.

The technique of filigree with spirals and granules (cannetille and grainti) was revived in France then copied in England. While consumers appreciated the intricacy of the style, jewelers liked the economical nature of the designs which appeared to be weighty, but actually used less gold.  

From the important jewelry collection of Dame Joan Evans, we have this necklace with pendant of gold mesh and filigree with cannetille and grainti decoration.  Made in France between 1825 and 1830, it is set with chrysoprases, brilliant-cut diamonds and rubies.

Unfolding Pictures: Queen Victoria's Pastoral Fan, c. 1850

Hand Fan
Presented to Queen Victoria by Prince Albert, circa 1850

Queen Victoria once favored this painted paper fan with carved and gilded mother-of-pearl sticks and guards.

The fan was a gift to the Queen from Prince Albert circa 1850. The obverse boasts a central cartouche which has been hand-painted with a lush scene of a lady with a sewing box. Flanking this are two pastoral scenes and symmetrical ovoid-roundels painted with floral scenes.

The verso is painted with an elegant and delicate depiction of flowers and a butterfly with Rococo tendencies.

The guards terminate in a metal pin set with a diamond paste.

Unusual Artifacts: A Layette Pincushion, 1788

The Victoria & Albert Museum

In the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, when pins were used to fasten garments, as well as for needlework and lace-making, pin cushions held a much more important place in the home than they do now.

Layette pincushions like the one we see here were considered fitting presents to a new mother, especially between about 1770 and 1890. These objects served as a safe place to stash diaper pins when not in use. These were only gifted after the baby arrived, as there was a superstitious belief that they could increase the pain felt by the mother during birth: “For every pin a pain,” and “More pins, more pain.” Furthermore, giving a gift before the birth seemed inappropriate given the fact that many mothers and children did not survive childbirth.

These pincushions often bore messages such as “Welcome Sweet Babe” or “Welcome Little Stranger.” This example shows the care with which these objects were made. The front of the pincushion is stuck with hand-made pins to show an inscription and a star-like flower within a circle of linked rings resembling stylized flowers; the initials M P are above and the date 1788 below. The pincushion is further decorated in pins with a straight line around each edge. Made in the home, these were personal, useful congratulatory gifts made with love.

History's Runway: The Parrot Bag, 1790-1800

Hand Bag
England, 1790-1800
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Fashions of the late Eighteenth to early Nineteenth Centuries saw a transition between hidden interior pockets and external reticules and handbags as a means of storing personal items which were needed on a daily basis. While interior pockets remained in garments, reticules allowed for more portability and versatility as well as a means to show off a bit.

Early reticules like this one still resembled pockets. Still, they were often embroidered and adorned with beads and spangles. They usually closed with drawstrings. This bad is embroidered with a Grecian urn billowing over with flowers. A large parrot adorns the center of the bag. Pink tassels give the bag even more character.

This is the work of a English needlework and was probably made in the home between 1790 and 1800.

A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 104

Chapter 104
Echoes


At first it sounded, to Lennie, like the echo of water dripping into a deep, cold well.  Not the sound itself, but, just the echo--and even then, only the faintest repetition of it, the very end of the vibration.

The sound repeated, slightly magnified.  It tickled Lennie's ears.  If she had ears...

She wasn't sure if she had ears--wherever she was, whatever she had become.  Nonetheless, it tickled.  Of that she was sure.  The sensation wasn't annoying--not like the buzz of an insect in one's ear during an otherwise pleasant picnic.  No, it was comforting, like feeling the whiskers of a beloved dog snuffling for you to awaken in the morning.

Still, Lennie was hesitant to trust it.  Whatever the sound was, it was likely more of her mother's trickery.  

Lennie could not be sure how long she'd been there--wherever it was--in that static grayness, that limbo which stripped her from her body, from her life.  All she knew was that the only other...other...

Person?

No.  She wasn't a person.

The only other thing in that strange, misty inertia was her mother, the Duchess.  So, Lennie concluded, if another sound could be heard, it had to have been made by that specter of Pauline, by that glowing, hissing mask that had taunted her so.

Yet, there it was again--that sound.  That time, it was louder and clearer, and Lennie could tell that it was a voice, or, at least the vibrations of a voice.

"Mmmmm..."  It hummed.

"What's out there?"  Lennie responded.  As she did, she became aware that, she was becoming more like the image of her mother--a rigid face of plaster from which the words bounced.

"Mmmmm..."  The sound repeated.

"Who are you?"  Lennie shouted through unmoving lips.

"Mmmissssss..."

"Identify yourself."  Lennie demanded.

"Miss Lennie?"

"Gamilla?"  Lennie cried out.  "Gamilla?  Could it be you?"

"Miss Lennie!"  Gamilla's voice was clear this time.

Lennie wished she could move so that she could look around.  "Where are you?"

Before Gamilla could answer, Lennie began to see her friend's outline form in radiant silver, like a light pencil sketch illuminated by the sun.  The lines of Gamilla's face became crisper--her high cheekbones, wide eyes, gentle brow, full lips and small chin appeared as if being traced by an unseen hand.

"Can it be you?"  Lennie called out.

"It is I, Miss."  Gamilla replied.

"How?  How did you find me?  Where I am?"  Lennie cried.

"You're on the other side, Miss.  I come to bring ya back."  

"Can you?"  Lennie asked.

"I can."  Gamilla answered, her features becoming even sharper.  "Think, Miss Lennie...think of the color red."

"Red?"

"Imagine a red ribbon.  Think of it comin' straight outta your eyes.  Can ya picture it?"

"Yes!"  Lennie replied.

"Now..."  Gamilla smiled.  "From me, I am sendin' a blue ribbon.  Can ya see it?"

Lennie thought and concentrated.  "I...I think.  Yes.  Yes, I can!"

"The red ribbon and blue ribbon will tie in a knot between us...it will make a purple ribbon to link us together."

"Yes, yes, I can picture it."  Lennie cried out with relief.

"Behind me," Gamilla continued, "you will see a square of light.  I'm gonna pull ya to it."

"There it is!"  Lennie answered as she saw what appeared to be almost a sunlit window open behind Gamilla.

"Can ya feel the ribbon pullin' ya toward me?"  Gamilla asked.

"The light is growing brighter, I can feel that I'm...I'm moving."  

Then, as quickly as it started, the feeling of movement stopped. 

The window of light blinked shut, like an eye into which a speck of dust has blown.

"What's happening?"  Lennie asked.  "Where did it go?  Gamilla?"

"I'm here, Miss."  Gamilla replied calmly.  "You can still see me."

"Oh...I can."  Lennie answered.  "What's happened?"

"The chain,"  Gamilla replied honestly, 'has been broken."


Did you miss Chapters 1-103 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 105.

The Home Beautiful: A Sewing Machine, 1880

Sewing Machine, 1880
The Victoria & Albert Museum

This gorgeous creation had a decidedly practical purpose as a sewing machine. Made of cast iron, it is japanned in black and gold, with a label, engraved:  “The arm and platform machine London E.Ward's patent.” The side facing the sewer is heavily ornamented while the reverse is plain.

This machine was made in Great Britain around 1880.  The fact that it’s so attractive owes to the ingenuity of the age.  After all, the function of the machine does not lend itself to beauty.  It’s an irregular shape of an uninspiring material.  However, makers of such machines knew that adorning the machines with painted designs was essential their machines were to take their place in the Victorian interior.

Object of the Day: The Domestic Sewing Machine Co.

Click on image to see the old goat.

When I go on a goat cart ride, I always like to load up the vehicle with us much extra stuff as possible. I like to put an enormous and very stiff doll in the back. And, I like to tie a ribbon around my dog as well as the whip I use to get the goats a-goin’. Yes, I’ll put on my tam and my little pants and drive my giant sister around the countryside. You see, she can’t walk. Poor thing has unusually tiny feet for her body. She’s still strong though. Oh, yes, she can steer those goats over any terrain.

I don’t know.

This trade card is, as stated, “Compliments of the ‘Domestic’ Sewing Machine Co.” I’m not quite sure what the image has to do with sewing machines, except that you can use one to sew all the extras bows onto your little Nineteenth Century outfits.