Gifts of Grandeur: The Sèvres Egg Snuffbox, 1764-65

Snuffbox
French, 1764-1765
The Victoria & Albert Museum

As I pointed out yesterday, snuffboxes of porcelain are quite rare in England since British makers preferred gold and hardstone as materials for this purpose. However, in France, porcelain snuffboxes were more frequently made. Here’s one that’s quite exceptional.

Here we see a gold-mounted soft-paste porcelain box in the shape of an egg. It has been painted in enamel—red and white on a pale blue ground--with borders of flower garlands, and rosettes at the top and bottom. The box has been fitted with gold mounts which are chased with a Greek key pattern beneath guilloché.

The work of Sèvres Porcelain Factory, this is only one of a few egg-shaped snuffboxes ever made in France in the Eighteenth Century. The curators at the V&A believe, after studying the gold marks, that the box was exported to England between 1764-5 or 1781-9, and accompanying records indicate that it was a special commission for an English customer of the Sèvres factory.

Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 353

“Julian, you disgust me. Even in your own dreams, you disgust me!” The Duchess of Fallbridge spat at her son. To be more accurate, the image of the Duchess roared in Julian’s mind as he battled his way through his memories.


“I?” Julian rose with the assistance of the phantom of Prince Albert. “I disgust you? How is this? By being honest? By being kind? By wishing only to live in peace and without chaos? Yes, I suppose I would disgust you, then. You—you who thrive on the suffering of others.”

“I see you’ve found your voice.” The Duchess laughed. “Pity it’s such a weak one.”

“She has a point, Your Grace.” Prince Albert whispered. “Your voice is rather weak.”

“You are a creation of my own mind, Your Majesty.” Julian growled without turning around. “And since you are, I will thank you to be just a tad more supportive.”

“You can request all you wish,” Prince Albert smiled. “However, if you truly felt yourself worthy of respect and support, you’d have it without asking. As you say, I am your own creation. Isn’t it obvious that you have no affection for yourself? If you did, wouldn’t I be more of a comfort?”

“You hate yourself, Julian. Just as I hate you.” The Duchess howled cruelly. She turned over her shoulder and looked at the specter of a young Agnes Rittenhouse. “Nanny,” the Duchess began, “I fear the bathwater might be getting chilly. Have another kettle boiled. We must make the child clean.”

The vision of young Julian—still in the tub (which had not, by the way, cooled at all), began to whimper.

“Let him be!” Julian screamed.

“I don’t understand.” The Duchess sighed. “Let him be? How? This has already happened.”

“It need not continue to happen.” Julian urged.

“You’re the one who reviews the thought over and over again. If it continues, only you are to blame.”

“She’s quite correct.” Prince Albert coughed. “The things that have past only continue if we allow them to.”

“You’re no help,” Julian grumbled.

“If it’s help you want, you’ve conjured the wrong Prince.”

“Clearly,” Julian snorted.

“I’ll help you!” Mr. Punch called out through the hole in the fabric of the fantasy that he’d managed to create.

“Mr. Punch?” Julian shouted.

“Here!” Punch called out, wiggling a finger through the hole. “I’m coming!”

“Isn’t that sweet?” The Duchess roared with laughter. “My son will be protected by his puppet. Childish things, Julian. Childish things.”

The Duchess didn’t flinch as Mr. Punch burst into the scene nor did she show the slightest reaction when he rushed toward her. Instead, she turned and grinned as Punch approached—anger in his eyes.

“Do your worst, puppet.” The Duchess winked. “You won’t beat me.”





Did you miss Chapters 1-352? If so, you can read them here.

Card of the Day: St. Edward’s Staff, Head and Foot

The thirty-second card in the 1935 Silver Jubilee Series by Churchman Cigarette Company continues the inventory of the Crown Jewels and Regalia which are employed in the British coronation ceremonies. Here, we see St. Edward’s Staff.

The Staff is four feet seven inches and a half of gold divided at intervals with collars of ornamental leaf patterns.

This magnificent piece is surmounted by a cross patée atop an orb which tradition says once held a piece of the True Cross. This regal staff is meant to guide the footsteps of the Sovereign. And, to make sure that it really, truly guides him or her well, it is tipped with a steel pike 4 ¼ inches long.

Object of the Day: An Antique Paperweight

On a recent antiquing trip with my parents and Bertie, I came across this paperweight. As you already know I’ve been collecting paperweights since I was a child. I favor those that are signed and marked by the artist, but sometimes I’ll find one without a mark that’s quite exceptional.

Antique stores are filled with paperweights. Most of them are rather pedestrian, but sometimes, if you look hard enough, you’ll see one that really stands out. This paperweight caught my eye. I can tell you nothing about it except what is evident. It has no mark nor signature, but it’s very finely made and was evidently the work of a very skilled artisan.

I’m not sure how old it is or where it’s from, but I love it. And, that goes to show you that not everything has to have a pedigree to be beautiful.

Unusual Artifacts: The Princess Charlotte Pendant, 1817

The Victoria and Albert Museum

Had Princess Charlotte lived, the Royal Family and the history of the world would have been entirely different. Charlotte was the only daughter of the Prince of Wales (later King George IV) and Caroline of Brunswick, and the granddaughter of King George III. Upon the death of George IV, Caroline would have been Queen of England. She married the ambitious Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. If that name sounds familiar, it’s with good reason. Leopold was the uncle of Queen Victoria (on her mother’s side) who orchestrated the marriage of Victoria to his nephew (and, therefore, her cousin), Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Leopold, who had aspired to be Prince Consort to Charlotte’s Queen (and, he presumed, acting King), wasn’t going to give up when his chances were dashed. He wanted to ensure that Coburg blood remained in the Royal Family. And, so he did.

The handsome Leopold and the rather plain Charlotte’s marriage produced a pregnancy. Many advisors were gathered as the princess was about to give birth. But, it went wrong. Mistakes were made and both Princess and child died in a grisly scene of blood. And, so went the line of accession. George IV had no more children (legitimately). Who did that leave to succeed him? His brother, William IV. And after that? His niece—Victoria.

The nation mourned the passing of Princess Charlotte. Prince Leopold mourned his lost chances more than his bride. He went on to become King of the Belgians—nice, but not what he’d hoped for. And, so, he groomed his nephew to achieve what he had set out to do.

This necklace of gold with enamel, diamonds, rock crystal and hair under glass commemorated the death of Princess Charlotte. The hair—three locks from Charlotte’s head--is curled in the form of the Prince of Wales’s feathers. These are mounted in an urn shaped pendant below a miniature portrait of Princess Charlotte. On the reverse of the pendant, the Royal arms are presented in enamel and inscribed PC/ 1817.

The miniature is the work of Charlotte Jones who was appointed miniature painter to the Princess, and exhibited portraits of her at the Royal Academy in 1808, 1812, 1816 and 1819.

Unfolding Pictures: The George III and the Royal Family Fan, 1790

Fan
1790--The Poggi Workshop
The Victoria and Albert Museum

King George III was actually quite savvy about Public Relations—before he went mad. This characteristic was not inherited by his son, the Prince of Wales and future King George IV. George III was careful to make sure that the Royal Family was portrayed as happy and cohesive and he ensured this by commissioning works of art which showed his brood engaged in civilized and joyful activities. This fan is part of that effort.

Here, we see a fan with leaves of engraved and hand-colored paper. Ir features carved and pierced ivory sticks and guards. The engraving shows King George III and the Royal Family in attendance at the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition in 1788. The scene si framed in a floral decorative border with strips of gilded paper at its edges and the guards are decorated with an urn and flowers. Curiously, the reverse is unadorned.

The leaf is based on a painting by Johann Heinrich Ramberg which was recreated in miniature for the fan. The fan's maker was Antonio Poggi, who worked in London from 1776 to 1799. Poggi is immortalized by the words of the novelist Fanny Burney who described a visit to Poggi’s shop in her diary for March 1781, stating that the fans “are more beautiful than can be imagined. One was bespoke by the Duchess of Devonshire for a present, that was to cost £30.”

Humanitarian of the Week: John O’Hurley

John O'Hurley

When most people see John O’Hurley, the first name that comes to mind is “Mr. Peterman.” O’Hurley came to worldwide prominence playing the pompous, obtuse “J. Peterman” on Seinfeld—a parody of the real clothing catalog exectuive of the same name. John O’Hurley is so closely associated with “Mr. Peterman” that he, in 2001, financed the relaunch of the J. Peterman Company, becoming co-owner.


However, Mr. O’Hurley isn’t just “J. Peterman,” he’s had roles in a wide range of television programs and reality shows and stage productions, most recently guest starring in the final broadcast television episodes of All My Children as a movie producer eager to bring Erica Kane to Hollywood. O’Hurley also comes into our homes each Thanksgiving as the host of the “National Dog Show.”

Even with his impressive career, it’s O’Hurley’s humanitarian efforts which set him apart. A staunch supporter of animals, O’Hurley has often lent his time to working with the ASPCA. O’Hurley, who has served as Director of Public Relations for the American Red Cross, was, in May of 2011, awarded the Ellis Island Medal of Honor for his continued and tireless commitment to many humanitarian causes.

For this reason, John O’Hurley is our “Humanitarian of the Week.”