Object of the Day, Museum Edition: The Martha Edlin Beaded Jewelry Case, 1673

Martha Edlin's Jewelry Case, 1673
The Victoria and Albert Museum

Decorated with beadwork--a fashionable embroidery technique in the Seventeenth Century--in which tiny glass beads were threaded and sewn into a pattern, this jewelry case features a padded central panel which lifts open to reveal a compartment for organizing jewels. It is lined with pink taffeta. On the lid, surrounded by an oval wreath formed by silk-wrapped leaves of parchment, is a cockatrice in a tree, with flowers around, worked in glass beads. Outside the wreath, flowers and a leopard are worked in silks in tent and rococo stitches. On the frame surrounding the lid are birds and flowering plants worked in beads. The corners of the frame rest on four round, hand-turned wooden feet. The underside is wholly lined with marbled paper and the edges and seams are covered with silver braid.

Such a fancy case, especially one with such high-quality glass beads and other materials, could only have been made for a very wealthy household. Furthermore, a cabinet-maker would have been employed to make the structure of the case itself if the estate did not already have a man who was proficient in woodworking.

This case once belonged to one Martha Edlin. Her name and the year (1673) have been embroidered on the case. Clearly, Miss Edlin worked the case herself. Given the value of the case itself, we can see that Martha and her successors handled it with extreme care. For this reason, it remains in near pristine condition over three hundred years later.

Martha Edlin (1660-1725) is a name which has become very familiar to me over the past two years as I’ve studied, in detail collection of the V&A. Several items from Martha’s home are now housed in the museum. Martha worked a series of embroideries during her childhood, including this jewelry case, which were cherished by her descendants and passed through the female line of her family for over three hundred years.

Beyond her obvious skill with embroidery, sadly, we know very little about her life, except for the fact that she was married to a man called Richard Richmond. After Richmond’s death, Martha appears to have been a prosperous widow with a handsome home in Pinner in Greater London. She left the bulk of her estate to her daughters and grandchildren.

Among the other treasures created by Martha Edlin, the V&A owns an embroidered sampler in colored silks which Martha created at the age of eight, and a more complicated piece in white-work and cutwork which she crafted at nine. We have looked at those previously. By 1671, Martha’s eleventh year, she had embroidered the panels of an elaborate casket, and two years later. At thirteen, this beadwork jewelry case.

Curiously, for many years, this case became separated from the other Martha Edlin embroideries (which stayed in her family's possession until their acquisition by the Museum). In the Nineteenth Century, the case was purchased at an auction by an unknown buyer. Then, in 1927, the case was again sent to auction where it was purchased by by Sir Frederick Richmond—an ancestor of Martha’s who donated it to the V&A so that it might, once again, join the other beautiful work created by Miss Edlin.

Mastery of Design: The Fuchsias and Ferns Hair Ornament, 1820

The Victoria & Albert Museum

The upswept, ornate hairstyles of the 1820s lent themselves to being adorned with shimmering hair ornaments such as this gold-backed floral spray of European-cut diamonds set in silver.

At the time, the trend in jewelry was to replicate the beauty of nature. Bodice ornaments, brooches, hair ornaments, earrings, necklaces, rings, and bracelets all took the form of shining floral arrangements, baskets of fruit and other natural themes.

This ornament comes from Western Europe, about 1820, and depicts fuchsias and ferns in the universal language of nature. Naturalistic jewelry such as this arose during the Romantic movement along with a new interest in a revived Rococo style. From the early 1820s until about 1830, these designs were stylized and delicate like the one we see here. Later, jewelers strove to be ever-more precise with their copies of flowers, leaves, fruit and insects and the pieces became heavier and more colorful, often employing enamel and complicated gold mounts.

Painting of the Day: Robie's Flowers and Fruit, 1863

The Victoria & Albert Museum

Jean Baptiste Robie (1821-1910) painted this woodland landscape in 1863. The scene depicts a river bank with a still life of ferns, pink and white flowers and a basket of raspberries. The canvas is signed with the artists’ name, the year and “Brussels.”

Robie was a Belgian artist who primarily painted flower and fruit still lifes in the tradition of Dutch still life painters of the Seventeenth Century. However, Robie introduced a new, brighter color palette and themes better suited to the Romantic style.

History's Runway: The Lanvin Fern Gown, 1922

This and all related images from:
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Jeanne Lanvin (1867-1946)—the name immediately puts one in mind of 1920s elegance. Lanvin, during the 20’s, was applauded for ultra-feminine dresses with fitted bodices and long, full skirts. These flowing creations were dubbed, “robes de style.” Here’s an excellent example of this type of gown by Lanvin.

This black silk taffeta dress boasts a boat neckline, and small, capped half-sleeves which fasten down the side. The gown is given drama with a pair of immense fern which have been embroidered in furry cream chenille on the skirt. This cream color is repeated in floating bands caught in silk georgette bows at the right sleeve and left waist.



The label reads:

'Jeanne Lanvin PARIS UNIS-FRANCE'
'HIVER 1922-1923'
'39378'

Lanvin’s designs of this era stand out primarily because her silhouettes were feminine and full skirted at a time when her fellow couturiers were producing boyish, tubular gowns. Her romantic designs were favored by magazine editors who found Lanvin’s work more appealingly photogenic.

Unusual Artifacts: The Lester Bobbin Lace Fern Bodice Front, 1865-1875

The Victoria & Albert Museum

A popular adornment to a Nineteenth Century lady’s outfit was the addition of a lace collar or bodice front. This fashion was particularly stylish in the 1860s and early 1870s. Here, we see an example of the type of bodice front which would have been worn by a fashionable lady. Such a piece could have been worn with a variety of bodices. It would have been intended to be worn over a contrasting colored silk, setting its pattern into clear relief.

This example features a bib-shaped front worked with fine cotton thread and bobbin lace worked in a pattern of ferns and blossoms in cloth stitch with openwork decoration. A narrow border of Bucks point lace has been attached to the outer edge.

The detail and delicacy of the bobbin lace indicates that it was made in Bedfordshire, England which was a lace-making center. In fact, this type of work is often referred to as “Bedfordshire Style.” The curators at the V&A believe this piece was designed by Bedfordshire’s Thomas Lester who was known for such intricate patterns which often depicted ferns and other naturalistic themes. The botanical theme suggests that the bodice front was made between 1865 and 1875.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 450

Odo crept into the kitchen of Edward Cage’s Royal Street House. Seeing that the kitchen was empty, he sighed with relief and made his way toward the stairs so that he could retreat quietly to his attic room.

“Stop there, Odo.” Zettie growled from the dining room door.

Odo turned and grinned—his yellow teeth slick with his sense of self-satisfaction. “Mornin’ Zettie.”

“Don’t smile at me, Little Odo.” Zettie spat. “Where the hell have you been all this time?”

“Out.”

“Where?”

“I don’t answer to no parlor maid, Zettie.” Odo frowned.

“Maybe usually, Odo, but not today. I been runnin’ ‘round this house for the last day. I got two folk needin’ nursin’! Mr. Cage done been shot and Mrs. Cage is still all ate up with fever. Not to mention Miss Ulrika and her guest want feedin’ and Orman needs tendin’. And, where’s our houseboy?”

“I ain’t a houseboy!” Odo shot back. “I’m a butler.”

“Fine. Then, act like one!”

“I gotta get some rest.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Zettie shouted. “You gotta help me. But, first, you’re gonna go upstairs and look Mr. Cage square in the eye and tell him where you been!”

“Not yet.”

“He’s been askin’ for ya every few minutes, boy.” Zettie narrowed her eyes.

“Why?”

“Why you think?” Zettie grumbled.

“He’s still angry, ain’t he? ‘Bout the baby. I done tried my best for the keep that chil’ here. I done took him from the house an’ all to keep that boy away from the Duke…”

“He don’t blame you for none of that.” Zettie growled. “You and your high and mighty ideas ‘bout how important ya are. Mr. Cage knows you’re just a house worker. He ain’t got no grand ideas ‘bout how big you are, Odo.”

“Then, what’s he want?”

“Dressin’ and cleanin’ for one!” Zettie shouted. “Ain’t fit for me to be washing the master’s naked body! That’s man’s work! ‘Sides, I got Mrs. Cage for to worry ‘bout.”

“So he ain’t angry at all? He don’t blame me for losin’ the baby?”

“’Course not! Odo—you ain’t on the front of everyone’s mind all the time, you know. You’re just a tool here, boy. You ain’t more special than a fire poker.”

“Did he say that?”

“Odo, he ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Just, ‘Where’s Odo?’ He’s half mad with pain anyway!”

“Still, you’d think…”

“No!” Zettie stamped her foot on the ground. “No more talkin’! Go on up and tend to the master. I gotta take a tray up to Miss Ulrika. She done rung for me three times!”

“Miss Ulrika’s here?”

“Got in ‘bout an hour ago. Got that Italian man with her. She looks all worn out. God knows what she been up to. What’s it to you. Miss Ulrika ain’t you’re responsibility!”

“It’s just I gotta talk to her.”

“Oh, no you ain’t!” Zettie ordered.

“I got a message for her.” Odo said.

“Well, give it to me, then.” Zettie snapped.

“I can’t. Ain’t written down.” Odo argued.

“Then, tell me what it is and I’ll tell her.” Zettie replied, her patience at its end.

“I can’t. Gotta tell her myself.”

Before Zettie could say another word, an annoyed voice bellowed down the rear stairs.

“Really!” Ulrika screamed. “What does it take to get some food! We’re starved!”

Thumping down the stairs, Ulrika almost bumped into Odo.

“What is going on down here?” She demanded.

“I’m comin’, Miss. Terrible sorry, we got a lot of trouble here today. I’m on my way.”

“See that you are!” Ulrika snapped. She turned to Odo. “And, just what are you looking at you little black toad?”

“I got a message for you, Miss.” Odo whispered.



“No, you ain’t!” Zettie hissed. “You leave Miss Ulrika be and let her go back to her guest. I’ll be up just now, Miss.” She added the last line directly to Ulrika.

“It’s from Barbara Allen.” Odo interrupted.

“Go on,” Ulrika narrowed her eyes.

“It’s ‘bout the diamond.” Odo smiled.



Did you mis Chapters 1-449? If so, you can read them here.

The Home Beautiful: The Butterflies and Ferns Firescreen, 1881



The Victoria & Albert Museum



We have examined other firescreens which were made to be placed in front of an empty fireplace in the summer both for a decorative effect and to reduce drafts. These screens often were fitted with panels of needlework or beaded textiles, painted scenes, or, in the case of this small screen, preserved wildlife or taxidermy. This lovely screen contains real ferns and butterflies which have been sandwiched between two layers of glass. A delicate frame of Japanese bamboo supports this natural scene of local flora and fauna.

Model & Co. of London was a specialist manufacturer of bamboo furniture from 1881-1900. In 1881, this screen by Model & Co. was praised for its beauty and originality, putting the company in the position of being labeled as “the aristocrats of bamboo manufacturers.”