Friday, March 9, 2012

Unusual Artifacts: Another Glass Magic Lantern Slide

Magic Lantern Slide by Theobald & Co.
Hand-painted glass.
Nineteenth Century
The Victoria & Albert Museum





Number eight of the set of twelve Theobald & Co. Magic Lantern slides at the V&A, this hand-painted glass slide depicts our Mr. Punch attempting to ride a donkey.  It’s this awkward ride which leads to a terrible fall and Mr. Punch’s traditional declaration of “Oh, dear!  Oh, dear!  I’m dead.  I’m sure of it.”  Even after the doctor tells him that he’s not dead, Mr. Punch cannot be convinced.

The following text accompanies the slide during a magic lantern show:

Punch: Oh dear, oh dear, I do hope I haven’t hurt it. I thought the nurse was down below. Heigh, ho! what shall I do? I know, I’ll get on my moke and go for a ride. Gee up, Neddie, now don’t be a donkey, on you go. What! you will kick will you, don’t kick up a row anyhow, old chap. Let’s be friends. Don’t you understand? Your ears are long enough. Give poor old Punch a proper ride, you rascal, or I’ll sell you off cheap.

Object of the Day: A German Trade Card Depicting a Punch & Judy Show




This beautiful Victorian trade card heralds from Germany.  The color-lithographed front of the card depicts an elegant interior wherein a group of well-dressed children and a white dog are enjoying a Punch & Judy show.  Mr. Punch—or his German cousin, Kasper—has just dispatched his bride—not with is traditional slapstick, but with a weapon more akin to a branch or “switch.”

Now, my German is not good, so I’m not sure what exactly this is advertising.    I will, however, reproduce the text below.  If any of my German-speaking readers would like to translate for me, I’d be thrilled.  Just post your translation in the comments. 

Using what little I know about German, I can guess that this is an ad for coffee grounds which, apparently, welcome you “Home.”  I’m curious to see what any of you can tell me. 

It says:

Ein gesundes
Getränk

von kräftigem, angenehmen,
lieblichen Geschmack, dasauch
für jedes Familiendglied be-
kömmlich, bereitet man aus halben Portion Bohuenkaffee und
einer halben Portion.

Aecht Hauswaldt
Kaffeezusatz
Achten Sie bitte genau auf Schutzmarke, “Haus”!

Joh.  Gottl.  Hauswaldt
Brauncschweig.  Magdeburg
Eger i. B.
Gegründet, 1786



Thursday, March 8, 2012

Gratuitous Bertie Dog Picture: Interior of a Bowl with Whiskers



"Hey!  Cat!  Get your pointy, little face outta that bowl!  Stupid Flanders people...Belgium, whatever.  Control your cat!"











Image:  Interior of a Room with Figures: A Man Playing a Lute and a Woman, Adriaen Brouwer  (1605 - 1638), 1625, The Victoria and Albert Museum.






If you enjoy the Gratuitous Bertie Dog Picture, you're sure to love any of the Bertie Dog designs available exclusively in our online store.  Whether you like Bertie as Mr. Punch's Dog Toby or just Bertie as himself, you'll find something you love in the store.  

Mastery of Design: The Crouching Cat Ring, 1825

Gold ring in the Roman Style
Set with an agate Cameo.
England, 1825
The Townshend Collection at
The Victoria & Albert Museum





Made in the ancient Roman style which had become quite fashionable in early Nineteenth Century England, this gold ring is surmounted by an oval bezel with a layered agate cameo depicting a crouching cat. 

The ring was made in 1825 and fulfilled the growing demand for jewels based on designs from antiquity.  This jewel was included along with the bequest of the massive collection of gems amassed by the Rev. Chauncey Hare Townshend.





Gifts of Grandeur: The Mennecy Cat Snuffbox, c. 17526

Snuff-box in the form of a cat.
Mennecy, France, c. 1756
The Victoria & Albert Museum




Here we see a snuff-box and cover of soft-paste porcelain.  This rather small, unusual figural piece is painted with enamels and with a hinged silver mount.   It takes the form of a cat with three kittens.  The whole of the interior of the case is enameled with flowers. 

We don’t know too much about this snuff-box except that it was made in Mennecy, France between 1756 and 1762 by a staff worker at the Mennecy Porcelain Factory.



Painting of the Day: Lady Blessington's Dog - The Barrier, 1832

Lady Blessington's Dog -- The Barrier
Sir Edwin Landseer, 1832
The Victoria & Albert Museum
Click to Enlarge




Painted in 1832, this comic scene is the work of Sir Edwin Henry Landseer—celebrated for his intelligent portrayals of animals and a favorite painter of Queen Victoria. 

The scene depicts a mother cat separated from her kitten by a large dog who, knowingly, blocks the mother from the staircase upon which her baby has climbed.  Landseer often showed animals in comical scenes, sometimes for allegorical purposes, and sometimes just for the sheer joy and beauty of it.

This painting was commissioned by Lady Blessington and depicts her beloved dog. The dog had been given to Lady Blessington by the King of Naples.  When the painting was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1833, it was accompanied with the following lines from Shakespeare's Macbeth act I scene 7: 'Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would"/Like the poor cat I' the adage'.


Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 482


Edward Cage frowned as his wife entered his private bed chamber.  Assisted by her maid Zettie, Corliss Cage was clearly not ready to be walking after her near-fatal bout with the Yellow Fever.  Despite Zettie’s pleading to stay abed, Corliss knew she’d best obey her husband’s order to come to his room—especially after having shot him two days earlier.

“Leave us, Zettie,”  Edward barked after the maid helped Mrs. Cage into an armchair beside Edward’s bed.

Corliss nodded.

Zettie sighed and grudgingly left, still worried about her mistress.

“How are you feeling, Corliss?”  Edward gruffly asked his wife.

“I’m improving, Edward.”  Corliss whispered.

“Do you wish to know how I am?”  Edward growled.

“Of course.”  Corliss nodded weakly.

“I’m in a damned lot of pain.  Why?  Why is it that I’m in pain?”  He paused, watching—as he had hoped—his wife’s growing discomfort.

“Well?”  He demanded.

“Because you were shot.”  Corliss rasped.

“Because I was shot.”  Edward smirked.  “By whom?”

“By me.”  Corliss mumbled.

“Because I was shot.  By you—my obedient wife.”

“I was mad with fever, Edward.”  Corliss responded nervously.

“No you weren’t.”  Edward snarled.  “For a decade, my dear wife, I have suffered for your weakness.  And when you finally find a modicum of strength, you use it to make me suffer more.  You’re a disgrace.”

“I know.”  Corliss replied.  “I’ve always known.  You’ve made your disappointment with me abundantly clear for ten years now, Edward.”

“You are a vile creature.  You deny me a son?”

“You have a son.  Orman.”  Corliss replied softly.

“Orman is a lost cause.”

“He’s a child.  How can you be sure?”  Corliss asked, her eyes wide.

“I can tell.  You’re unable to bear me another son.  And, yet, you deny me the adoption of another as well.”

“It was not an adoption, it was a theft!”  Corliss spat, surprised by her own passion.

“Who are you to tell me how to run my household and family?”

“I’m your wife.  Were it not for me you’d have nothing.  All that you own—the plantation, this fine town house, your wax works!  All of it came from me!”

“So it’s come to that, has it?”  Edward coughed.

“You know it to be true.”

“And as such, don’t you wish for your wealth to be looked after well into the next century?”

“I do.” 

“Do you think Orman is going to grow into the man to do that?”

“He might.”

“Don’t you think it would be wise to ensure it with another child?”

“Not one that is stolen from loving parents.”  Corliss responded plainly.

“Loving parents?  A mad aristocrat and a middleclass doctor?  You’d rather see that child raised by in a home without a mother by a lunatic and a butcher than have him here with me?”

“They love the boy and will give him a fine home.”  Corliss replied.

“And you feel so passionately about this that you would shoot your own husband?”

“Apparently.”  Corliss smiled—pleased with herself for standing up to Edward for the first time in their marriage.

“Very well.”  Edward sighed.  “So be it.”

Corliss looked at him with puzzlement.

“What can I do?  As you say, you provided me with all that I have.  I suppose I’d best not argue with you.”

“I’m glad.”  Corliss nodded.

“Now, the very least you can do is help to make me comfortable.  My back hurts.  Can you adjust my pillows?”

“Yes.”  Corliss said.  She tried to raise herself from the chair and found that she was took weak.  Several attempts later, she was on her feet—rocky, but up.

She reached for the pillows which were stacked behind her husband’s head.  As she bent forward she felt a sharp slap across her face.

Shocked at first, and unaware of what happened, she slowly reached up and placed her palm on her stinging cheek.  Before she knew it, Edward was out of the bed. 

He pushed her down.  She landed on her back so hard that the wind was knocked out of her lungs.

Crying, she pleaded.  “Edward, don’t hurt me!”

“Never!”  Edward seethed, standing above his wife.  “Never contradict me again!  You sow!  I’m you’re husband.  You are and have nothing!  Do you understand?”

“I do.”  Corliss trembled as Edward raised his leg as if he intended to kick her in the throat.

“Good!”  Edward roared.  “Now, you listen to me.  I’m going to get that child back from the Duke of Fallbridge and you will be silent.  You will not interfere.  And when he is here in this house you will love him and raise him as your own.  Do you hear me?”

“Yes, I do.”  Corliss sobbed.  “Please…please.  Don’t hurt me.”

Edward sat on the bed and laughed cruelly.  Reaching over, he turned the bell pull and waited for Zettie to collect her mistress.




Did you miss Chapters 1-481?  If so, you can read them here.