Mastery of Design: The Chrysoprase Tiara, 1835

Tiara
Gold, Chrysoprase
England, 1825-1835
Given by Dame Joan Evans
The Victoria & Albert Museum

By the 1830’s, technology in a variety of areas was advancing quickly. The use of machines changed the way items were produced and allowed previously out-of-reach objects to be available to the middle classes. Those in the steadily-growing middle class looked to nobility and royalty as their barometers of style. In order to be truly fashionable, one yearned to duplicate the fashions of aristocrats without trying to ape them. Most important of all fashion was jewelry. Of course, Royalty and nobility had entire wardrobes of priceless jewelry at their disposal, but new technologies meant that the middle class could have similarly-styled (though more cheaply made) pieces at hand. Take this tiara for example.
This tiara would have been the envy of any middleclass lady who had spotted The Duchess of Cambridge or Princess Mary Adelaide at the theatre sporting a similar-looking model. What was the difference between this tiara and the one belonging to Her Serene Highness? Quality and time and materials. This tiara has been quickly manufactured by pressing the gold into shape using a steel die stamping machine, this by-passing the need for thick gold that required chasing and casting from an expert jeweler.

Reverse

Such pieces were made swiftly and with little fuss. First, flattened gold was rolled through machinery to create a very thin sheet which was then stamped to make multiple standard components. Even the prong settings for the gemstones could be stamped on, allowing for the “finish-work” to be completed in short order.

After the stamped sections of gold were polished, they were assembled and the piece was fitted with its gemstones. In this example, we see chrysoprase (a form of chalcedony) which, when viewed from a distance, mimicked the look of more impressive stones.

This desire for jewelry in the style of the nobility added additional business to the gem trade in Britain, and also changed the law forever. Because cheaper pieces were being produced for mass consumption, legislation was passed to ensure that jewelers were being honest about the quality of the gold they were selling. In 1854, three lower standards of gold alloys were legalized with the condition that the items being sold were advertised truthfully.

The Home Beautiful: The Neptune Candelabra, 1818-1820

Candelabrum
Silver, 1818-1820
The Victoria & Albert Museum

In the early Nineteenth Century, a common theme in plate and in table ornament was the theme of the sea—personified by the Roman sea god, Neptune. For the English, Neptune represented the source not only of the fish and seafood which comprised many of their meals, but also of salt—a precious commodity indeed.

One of the ways by which an aristocratic family would show their social position and wealth was by adorning their tables with the finest silver, plate and china. Here’s one example of the type of adornment which would have graced a noble dining room.

Modeled with a figure of Neptune kneeling on a sea horse (or “hippocamp”) on a rocky base, this magnificent candelabrum is cast and chased with shells, seaweed and sea creatures. As he often does, Neptune holds a trident in his left hand and, in his right, presents a shell from which a hydra (the mythical multi-headed snake) springs. The hydra’s heads form the branches of the candelabrum.

This was part of a massive table garniture ordered by the then Duke of York—Prince Frederick (second son of King George III and brother of the future King George IV. Frederick would die before his elder brother, thus allowing his younger brother, to become King William IV when George IV died without legitimate heirs*). Upon his early death, the catalog of the sale of the Duke of York’s silver shows that this candelabrum is attributed to the antiquarian and silver retailer Kensington Lewis, who promoted himself with great pride as “Silversmith and Jeweller to his R. H. the Duke of York.” This candelabrum bears the mark of artist Edward Farrell, a silversmith who worked with Kensington Lewis between 1816 until the mid-1830s.

*In keeping with “family tradition” of lots of illegitimate children from the progeny of George III, King William IV also died without legitimate issue and the Crown, upon William’s death, was passed to the eldest child of his younger brother, Edward Augustus, Duke of Kent. This, of course, was Queen Victoria who, as we know, did her best to put the Royal Family back in order.

Unfolding Pictures: A Portrait Fan, 1787

While fans which featured portraits of loved ones were not uncommon, this one is quite exceptional inasmuch as it bears the images of the three eldest sons of King George III and was presumably made for Queen Charlotte. Here, we see portraits of Prince William, Duke of Clarence (later King William IV), George, Prince of Wales (later King George IV), and Prince Frederick, Duke of York.

Portrait Fan
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

The other factor which makes this hand fan so special is one of the earliest uses of jasper-ware plaques from Wedgwood. Wedgwood had only perfected the process of creating jasper-ware in the 1770’s. The white and blue ornaments quickly fell into the favor of the Royal court and were incorporated into this fan by applying them to the ivory guards. The fan also features marquisites and steel-cut beads which give an added element of sparkle to an already opulent piece.

At some point in the Nineteenth Century, this fan was no longer in the possession of the Royal Family. In 1933, it was purchased at an auction for Queen Mary who had a pleasant habit of returning items to The Royal Collection.







Gifts of Grandeur: The Thirteen Miniatures Gold Box, 1850-61

God Box with Thirteen Miniatures
Commissioned by Queen Victoria
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty
Queen Elizabeth II

This glorious gold presentation box was set with thirteen miniature paintings by William Charles Bell (1831-1904), William Essex (1784-1869) between 1850 and 1861.
The miniatures show: Queen Victoria; Princess Victoria (×2); Prince Albert Edward; Princess Alice; Prince Alfred; Princess Helena (×2); Princess Louise (×2); Prince Arthur; Princess Beatrice; and Prince William of Prussia

Each is rendered in enamel. They are mounted on a rounded rectangular gold box with hinged lid. The whole of the box is covered with etched tendrils and Tudor roses on a trellis.

Each enamel miniature was given as a gift by Queen Victoria to Prince Albert in commemoration of their wedding anniversary, 10 February 1859. They were mounted on the box after the Prince Consort’s death in 1861.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 251

Chapter 251
Blessings 


Lady Lensdown wept. She wept through the service at St. Peter’s. She wept through the small graveside gathering at Highgate as Jenny was laid to rest. She wept in the carriage on the way back to Belgrave Square and she wept through the modest luncheon which Mrs. Pepper had prepared. She wept for Jenny, she wept for Ethel, she wept for the Duke and the doctor, she wept for her own children and she wept for herself.

Lennie already had her hands full with Ethel. The Duke’s sister never once let the scullery maid out of her sight, and, when they returned home from the funeral, she took the girl—still in shock—upstairs and sat with her.

That left Punch and Robert to see to Lady Lensdown, and, frankly, neither of them was too keen on comforting their houseguest. They, of course, understood her grief. Her children were missing. Her husband didn’t seem to care that his offspring were in peril nor that his wife had not returned home in days. They knew that, at the best of times, Gertrude was sensitive and skittish. And, so, they tried to be patient and kind despite the fact that they, too, were burdened by their own grief, and their own fears.

“I am so terribly ashamed,” Gertrude sniffed as she joined Punch and Robert in the library of No. 65.

“You needn’t be,” Robert shook his head. “You’re in the middle of a terrible ordeal. We’re all tired and worried. It’s only natural that we should be emotional.”

“Sure,” Punch nodded. “If Colin was taken from us, we’d surely be beside ourselves.”

“Still,” Lady Lensdown inhaled. “I…” She began to cry again.

“Perhaps,” Robert suggested, “you might go upstairs and take some rest.”

“I couldn’t.” Lady Lensdown replied. “I can’t bear to be alone.”

“Very well,” Robert nodded.

“Do carry on with whatever you’d be doing. I shan’t intrude.” Lady Lensdown waved her hand.

Robert and Punch exchanged weary glances.

“I think the services were lovely, dear Punch,” Robert began. “You did well by our Jenny.”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Punch shrugged. “It were really Speaight what arranged it all. He and the undertaker.”

“Jenny’s family was most grateful.” Robert continued. “You gave their daughter a beautiful tribute which they otherwise could not have afforded.”

“I felt so terrible bad for ‘em, Chum.” Punch shook his head. “To see the mum, ‘specially. It…” He looked up at Lady Lensdown who’d begun to weep again.

Punch twitched slightly and scratched the back of his neck. “I…uhhh…I gave the staff the afternoon and evenin’ to rest.”

“It’s only right that you should.”

“Mrs. Pepper wanted to see we were given dinner. I told ‘er we weren’t so hungry and that if we needed anything, we’d raid the larder.” Punch shook his head. “As it is, she’ll be makin’ downstairs dinner, and she told me that she’s aimed to make plates for us.”

“Working, I think, is her way of coping.” Robert nodded. “She wants to see everyone fed and well.”

“I reckon everyone wants to keep goin’. Charlie even said he’d stand guard in the ‘all. I told ‘im there was no need.”

Robert continued. “Her Majesty was most kind to see that the house was guarded today.”

Punch nodded. “Did I tell you…” he began, “I received a letter from the palace before we went to the church?”

“No.” Robert shook his head.

“Her Majesty volunteered to send a kitchen maid from Sandringham. I’ve not responded yet, but, I think it might be a good idea, Chum. We know she ain’t gonna let no one who ain’t a decent girl into one of her ‘omes.  So, we should find her well enough for our own.”

“How kind of her.” Robert nodded.

They both cautiously looked out of the corners of their eyes to see if Gertrude was still sobbing. She was.

Robert and Punch were relieved to hear a knock on the library doors which, after a few seconds, slid open as Gerard and Gamilla entered, arm-in-arm.

“Gerard,” Robert spoke up. “I said you could go to the services if you’d return to your bed thereafter.”

“I know, Sir. Only, Gamilla and I wanted to talk with you.” Gerard answered.

“Is somethin’ wrong?” Punch asked.

“No, Your Grace.” Gamilla responded. “We done spoke with Mr. Speaight already and he done said if it was well by you that…” She looked at Gerard. “Gerry…you tell His Grace.”

Gerard blushed.

“What is all this?” Robert raised an eyebrow.

“Well, Sir, Your Grace…Gamilla and me. Well, I asked Gamilla if she’d be my bride.”

“Did you, then?” Robert smiled.

“And, well, Sirs, we seek your blessing.” Gamilla added.

“Of course, you have it.” Mr. Punch exclaimed.

“I know it’s not regular, Your Grace for the nurse to marry a footman. Most men in Your Grace’s place wouldn’t allow such a thing.”

“Nonsense.” Punch shook his head.

“Sir?” Gamilla looked to Robert.

“You certainly have my consent. We’ll have to sort out the living arrangements. We’ll need you, Gamilla, to remain in the nursery suite until Colin’s more grown.”

“I s’pose we could convert the storage cupboard by the nursery to make a private sittin’ room for you both and you could share the chamber.”

“I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble, Your Grace.” Gerard smiled.

“It’s no trouble.” Punch replied. “In fact, we’re grateful, we are. Grateful for some joy in the midst of all this horror.”

“We thought since we had the day, we might go and post our banns.” Gerard continued. “With your permission, of course.”

“I thought it might be...somehow…what with Jenny’s funeral just today….” Gamilla stumbled over her words.

“It’s not inappropriate.” Robert interrupted. “Life goes on, and, truly, I think Jenny would have been thrilled for you.”

“Sure, she would.” Punch grinned.

“However, Gerard,” Robert said sternly, “when you return, it’s straight abed. You’re not entirely healed yet.”

“Yes, Sir.” Gerard nodded eagerly.

“Then go,” Punch said finally, “knowing you got our blessin’.”

“Surely,” Lady Lensdown sniffed. “Surely you’re not going to allow this…”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at the tear-stained face of Lady Lensdown who flushed with excitement.

“You…you simply can’t allow this, Your Grace.” She repeated.



Did you miss Chapters 1-250? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square Chapter 252.

Royal Pets: The Companions of Frederica, Duchess of York, 1820

Frederica, Duchess of York
With a Dog and a Monkey
1820, Unknown Painter after Hüet-Villiers
Miniature: Watercolor on Ivory
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

The second daughter of Frederick William II of Prussia, Frederica, the Princess Royal of Prussia, married the second son of King George III, Frederick, Duke of York. Their marriage was beset by scandal—particularly one involving the Duke’s mistress which caused him to have to resign his posh military post.


Owing in large part to the fact that her marriage was strained, Frederica preferred to be by herself and spent most of her life in seclusion in their country house in Surrey. Though not a fan of people, Frederica did enjoy the company of her animals and surrounded herself with many dogs, and, as one does, a monkey.

This gorgeous portrait of the Duchess of York is a miniature on ivory styled after a larger painting by Jean-François-Marie Hüet-Villiers. We see the Duchess looking rather dour, but lovely, contentedly sitting with a canine and a simian friend.

This miniature came into the Royal Collection in 1910.

Object of the Day, Museum Edition: The Chrysprase Snuffbox, 1765

Snuffbox
Berlin
1765
The Victoria & Albert Museum

A shimmering masterwork of carved chrysoprase; chased, pierced and engraved gold; set hardstones and diamonds with foil backing, this snuffbox is far grander than the stuff it once held.


This remarkable snuffbox is one small part of a collection of snuffboxes previously belonging to Frederick II, the Great, of Prussia. The box itself is green chrysoprase which was carved from a single stone. In and of itself a masterpiece, the base was then adorned with a setting of hardstones and diamonds which have been colored by being backed with pale pink, green and canary foils.

The sturdy stone chrysoprase was much admired by Frederick. This rare stone was mined in Silesia--the first territory to Prussia by Frederick in a conquest in 1740. Before Frederick’s death, as he lay ailing, he asked that his collection of jewels and boxes would be laid out before him so that he might view them all.