Mastery of Design: Mary Todd Lincoln's Diamond Brooch and Earrings, pre-1867

The Boston Museum of Fine Arts

Mary Todd Lincoln was a very complicated woman by all accounts.

Still, we're not here to discuss Mrs. Lincoln's life of suffering, her eccentricities nor her triumphs.  We're here to discuss her sense of style, and, from what I've seen, she had rather good taste in jewelry.

For example, this diamond brooch and earring suite is a rather stunning bit of work.

The Boston Museum of Fine Arts

Quatrefoil in design, each element is set with a central diamond framed in a diamond surround.  Eight smaller diamonds form a  second tier of stones. The gold mounts were originally highlighted in enamels though now much of the enamel is lost to wear.

The mine-cut diamonds are likely all original to the parure, ranging in color from  J-K with VS-VS1 clarity. 

On October 26 of 1867, the suite was featured  in Frank Lesley's Illustrated Newspaper as part of a job lot of Mrs. Lincoln's clothes, jewelry, and furnishings that were offered for sale through Brady & Company of New York City. 

Mrs. Lincoln in 1867,
around the time of the sale of her jewels.

After the assassination of her esteemed husband, President Abraham Lincoln, Mrs. Lincoln's many debts became insurmountable, leading to this rather depressing sale of some of her most cherished possessions.  The sale price listed for the suite was $350.00.

A James Denton Hancock of Ohio purchased the parure for his wife Mary Hitchcock Hancock (according to Mary Todd Lincoln scholar Donna McCreary) at the 1867 sale which took place at Brady &Co, 609 Broadway, NYC.  The jewels descended in the family of Robert Allen, Jr..  they were later purchased at a Frank Kaminski auction on in April of 2008 by the Boston Museum of Fine Arts where they're now a central part of the museum's important collection of jewelry.

Building of the Week: Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, Virginia, United States

The West Front Facade
Monticello

To begin with, Jefferson’s famous Virginia estate is quite a bit newer than I originally thought. I’ve become so accustomed to buildings and objects from the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries that I had mentally categorized Monticello as falling into the latter era of building. However, the Palladian mansion that stands today was actually built in the Nineteenth Century.

The original structure at Monticello was a more modest two-story mansion that was erected in 1768 and occupied by Jefferson in 1770. After that, Thomas Jefferson was appointed Minister of the United States to France and subsequently moved from the U.S. During his travels, Jefferson became intimately acquainted with the architecture of Europe and saw first-hand the beautiful buildings he’d only seen illustrated in books. It was his viewing of French and Italian Palladian-style architecture which seems to have planted the seeds of his idea for his own home.

The East Front Facade
Monticello

Beginning in 1794, Jefferson returned to the U.S. and began working on designs for a major overhaul of Monticello which would incorporate the ideals of the architecture he’d seen abroad. The remodeling continued for many years and lasted until 1809.

The "Dome Room"
Monticello

One of the first orders of business was to double the size of the house by adding a parallel set of rooms and resituating the floor plan of the house. Massive East and West facades in a Palladian style were constructed with perfectly proportioned pediments and columns. The entire full-story second floor was completely removed and replaced with a more utilitarian mezzanine bedroom floor. Thomas Jefferson had two reasons for this. First, he was not a big fan of having too much furniture in the house (we’d not have been good friends) and didn’t feel that it was necessary to waste space with beds and wardrobes and other such nonsense. The bedrooms in the new design amounted to cupboards with sturdy Murphy beds and lots of built-in storage space. Secondly, by removing the second floor, he made room for the mansion’s most famous feature—its octagonal dome which is vaguely reminiscent of the dome of Italy’s Pantheon.

The Entrance Hall
Monticello

The mansion itself is not as large as it looks. It is, certainly, not a small house—amounting to 11,000 square feet. But, it appears to be much bigger than that. This owes in large part to the perfect scale of the structure. Every detail is perfectly measured and absolutely correct in scale. While the house is somewhat under-decorated, the architecture is superb.

Monticello, after Jefferson’s death, had several different owners before becoming a museum. It is the only private residence in the U.S. which has been designated as a World Heritage Site. Painstakingly restored, Monticello is open to the public. On rare occasions, the public is even allowed in the intimate dome room which has been painted in two of Jefferson’s favorite colors—“Mars Yellow” for the walls and “Grass Green” for the floors. If you’re in the Virginia area, you should visit this magnificent monument which served as the home, and now the burial place, of one of our most intriguing presidents. 

"The Tea Room"
Monticello

Sculpture of the Day: A Bust of Thomas Jefferson, 1789

Thomas Jefferson
Jean-Antoine Houdon
1789
The National Gallery of Art
Washington, D.C.

Since we're indulging in a sort-of-Presidents'-Day salute, let’s take a look at this exceptional marble bust of Jefferson by French sculptor Jean-Antoine Houdon.


Houdon was considered the “Sculptor of the Enlightenment” and espoused Neoclassical ideals in his crisp, attractive work. This bust of Jefferson was created in 1789 while Jefferson was still Minister to France. Today, the bust is housed in the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.

Unusual Artifacts: George Washington’s Teeth

George Washington's Lower Dentures
The National Museum of Dentistry, Baltimore

The first United States president was plagued by dental problems. By the time he was twenty-two, he had already lost his first adult tooth. Washington’s early tooth-lose owes much to the lack of antibiotics. During his early life, he was troubled by many common illnesses of the time—the treatments for which tended to deteriorate the integrity of a person’s teeth. When he was elected president, Washington only had one tooth in his head.


Washington wore dentures and had several sets made through the years. His favorite dentist was John Greenwood. However, contrary to popular belief, none of his dentures were made of wood. George’s teeth were constructs of gold, ivory, human bone, animal bones and teeth and teeth extracted from cadavers. I think, perhaps, wood might have been more pleasant.

The first president always had problems with his dentures. They broke frequently and he’d have to send them through the mail to Greenwood for repair. Ultimately, he began repairing them himself, having requested the proper tools to do so. He didn’t do a very good job of it. His short speeches and famous brevity were due more to oral pain than succinctness.

The National Museum of Dentistry in Baltimore—an affiliate of the Smithsonian Institute—houses several sets of Washington’s teeth and explains how the differences in his dentures changed the look of his face. We can see these changes throughout the various portraits painted of Washington. In some, he even stuffed his mouth with cotton during the sittings so that he would appear healthier.

So, no, his teeth weren’t wooden, but the fact that so many sets of the first president’s teeth remain, is, by itself, quite unusual.

History’s Runway: The Flowers of the Fields of France Gown, 1957

The Flowers of the Fields of France Gown
Norman Hartnell, 1957
This and all related images:
The Victoria and Albert Museum

Queen Elizabeth II is not the first name that comes to mind when you think of a fashion style-setter. But, iyou go back and look at Her Majesty’s collection of gorgeous gowns, you will notice that they are quite extraordinary, and some of them, rather cutting-edge. For many years, Norman Hartnell was the Queen’s personal designer. Here, we see a creation by Hartnell which is anything but dull.


This full-skirted, full length evening gown in ivory silk satin with a princess-seamed bodice and draped fold at hips, extends into a large self-fabric bow positioned at 7/8ths length down the skirt. It is carefully embroidered with miniature bees, grasses, wheat and wild flowers worked in relief in faceted glass stones, gold beads, “brilliants” and variously shaped pearls, with flowers of mother-of-pearl and gold petals. The gown was designed for the Queen's state visit to Paris, April 8-11th, 1957 and, fittingly, refers to French motifs, including the "Flowers of the Fields of France" (traditionally, poppies, daisies and crossed wheat sheaves) and Napoleonic bees. These diplomatic motifs are worked in relief. And, here’s where the Queen is clever. The dress was intended to both compliment the French nation and draw attention to the Queen. Knowing that she was going to one of the fashion centers of the world, she knew she had to dazzle them. And, she certainly did.

“The Flowers of the Fields of France Gown” was worn to the state dinner on the first night pf the visit. The dinner hosted by President René Coty at the Elysée Palace, and was followed by a visit to the Opéra to see a ballet by Lifar from The Diaries of Cynthia Jebb.

When the dress was displayed at Kensington Palace in 2006-7. Maureen Markham, one of the embroiderers who worked on the dress, recalled that she and her team worked with blacked-out windows to avoid the peering-eyes of the press and that she hoped that the Queen would have “nice plush cushions to sit on so as not to crush the embroidery.”

This is just one bit of Norman Hartnell’s brilliance. He had been court dressmaker since 1938, working the Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother and continued to work with the Royal Family until his death in 1979. 

Painting of the Day: “The Washington Family,” by Edward Savage 1789-1796

The Washington Family
Edward Savage, 1789-96
Andrew W. Mellon Collection
The National Gallery of Art, U.S.

American painter Edward Savage was known for his historical paintings and, sadly, the fact that his ambition outshone his talents. His paintings are often stiff and anatomically awkward due to his lack of formal training and natural artistic instincts. He did, however, manage to secure several well-known sitters, most notably George Washington and his family.

Washington, his wife Martha, and her children from her first marriage (she was widowed) sat for Savage in 1789-90 so that he could produce a series of sketches of the group. In 1790, Savage traveled to London where he sketched and was meant to study. He spent most of his time in England drawing and making a name for himself as a collector of art. Savage’s greatest achievement perhaps, is that of a curator more so than an artist. When he returned to New York, he opened the Columbian Gallery and is considered one of the first American museum proprietors.

In 1794, Savage began the actual painting of this nine-foot wide portrait of the Washington Family—four years after the initial sketches. Ever the master showman, he advertised this fact quite broadly and invited visitors (for a fee) to see a “life-sized” image of the first “first family.” In fact, Savage became quite wealthy from this painting—not only from the many engravings that he sold of the finished work, but by charging people to see it.

The portrait is meant to be set at Mount Vernon. However, Savage had never seen Mount Vernon and had no idea what it looked like. The background shows marble columns and a liveried footman in the English manner that Savage had learned to copy while abroad. The composition is rigid, flat and awkward, showing the artist’s lack of skill. He relied heavily on his assistants to do much of his painting for him.

Savage was quite pleased with himself for the “symbolism” of this work. He fancied that he had imbued the figure of Washington with a sense of military and presidential dignity by costuming him in his uniform and putting papers in his hand. Martha Custis Washington holds a map of the unfinished District of Columbia—pointing with her fan to what is now Pennsylvania Avenue.

It’s a curious painting indeed, but an important one as it is, as Savage would have been the first to tell you, one of the few looks we’ll ever get at the entire assembled Washington family.

Ephemeral Beauty: A Bookmark from the Family Druggist

You must click on the image to see the larger picture since it's very attractive.  I insist.  

A chinoiserie-inspired scene on a celadon background, this antique bookmark mimics the look of the japanned objects and furnishings which were so popular in the mid-to-late Nineteenth Century while incorporating the “it” colors of the 1880s—minty green, rust, coral and umber.

It’s a dandy little thing. I love the color palette. If given this bookmark/trade card by my local druggist today, I’d surely save it and use it. I think its inherent loveliness is the very reason that it’s survived well over a century to end up in the collection of some guy in Texas in 2012.

EVERARD H. KELLEY, FAMILY DRUGGIST handed out these cards. I wonder if he liked his name. I’ve never heard the name “Everard” before, but you can rest assured it’ll pop up in "A Recipe for Punch" or some of my other projects. Mr. Kelley’s apothecary shop was located on the Post Office Block of Lawrence, Massachusetts. That’s not too specific is it? Well, I suppose if you lived in Lawrence in the 1880s that was as specific an address as was necessary. I’m sure everyone knew Mr. Kelley. I’m sure Everard was the president of some local organization—the Elks or the Loyal Order of Anteaters or, perhaps, he was a member of some group like one which we had here in my hometown in the 1880s—the ‘Possum and ‘Tater Club. Everyone probably knew him, and everyone probably liked him. I’ll bet the men thought he was “aces” and the ladies admired his taste and gentle spirit. Or…maybe he was a real jerk and everyone cringed every time they went to buy a Scrofula tonic. “You know, Midge, he’s bitter about his name. That’s why he’s like that.”

Either way, for some reason, this card has been preserved, and I’m glad it has because it’s awfully pretty. And, that’s the sort of thing I think about here in my house full of old paper.