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The twenty-ninth of May is quite a jubilant date, as far as British monarchical history is concerned. It is Royal Oak Day - the anniversary of the restoration of the king who would be endeared to his subjects and posterity as "The Merry Monarch" - Charles II himself. But prior to his ascension to his rightful throne, when he was but a young prince desperate to hide from Parliamentarians during the English Civil War, Charles had flirted with danger and propitiously evaded capture and death on several occasions. And today is when the English commemorate what is perhaps the most storied of these evasions: Charles's preservation from the hands of the Roundheads in the branches of the Boscobel Oak.



Following the Royalist defeat at Worcester in 1651, and the death and capture of many of his supporters by Oliver Cromwell's New Model Army, Charles was compelled to flee as there was, naturally, a significant price on his head. He traversed much of the English countryside, eventually coming to stay at Boscobel House in Shropshire. It was there that the young prince was warmly welcomed by the Penderels, the house's Catholic inhabitants who were sympathetic to Charles's cause because his mother, Henrietta Maria, shared their faith. Boscobel House, in fact, was among those places where Catholic priests could find refuge as recusants of the Church of England, by hiding from authorities in "priest-holes" - concealed niches behind walls or under floors.



Snuff box, ca. 1739. Notice the crowns in the branches!

It was during his stay at Boscobel that Parliamentarian soldiers arrived to search for Charles himself. Caught unsuspectingly, the prince had to improvise in order to avoid his presence becoming known. He covertly escaped high into the branches of an oak tree near the house, while the soldiers beneath continued the search for his whereabouts. The legend goes that Charles spent the better part of the day there, in the oak's branches. Indeed, years later the restored king recalled the riveting incident in his own words in An Account of the Preservation of King Charles II after the Battle of Worcester:


"[Colonel William Carliss, Charles's attending royalist officer] told me, that it would be very dangerous for me either to stay in [the] house, or to go into the wood...that he knew but one way how to pass the next day, and that was, to get up into a great oak". Continuing, Charles added that, "...we went, and carried up with us some victuals for the whole day, viz. bread, cheese, small beer, and nothing else, and got up into a great oak, that had been lopt some three or four years before, and being grown out again, very bushy and thick, could not be seen through, and here we staid all the day". 




As the hours elapsed, and the search beneath the great tree proved increasingly fruitless, the Parliamentarians eventually agreed to cease their search and depart. Thus, the oak at Boscobel House has since been enshrined as the "Royal Oak", a symbol of the preservation of the English monarchy, with various depictions proliferating in material culture celebrating Charles II. I have chosen several such examples to showcase in this post; click on the images to be redirected to their sources.





If you desire to learn more about the young Charles II's quest to reclaim his birthright during the English Civil War, I highly recommend the podcast Noble Blood, which devotes an episode to the subject and brilliantly dramatizes the story of the Royal Oak.





Bibliography



2. Stamper, Paul. “The Tree That Hid a King: The Royal Oak at Boscobel, Shropshire.” Landscapes, vol. 3, no. 1, 2002, pp. 19–35., doi:10.1179/lan.2002.3.1.19.

Few historic artifacts, perhaps, are as delicate and as laden with sentiment as mourning jewelry. With its roots in Sixteenth Century Sweden, the practice of hair weaving often found in these uniquely beautiful, albeit rather morbid, pieces retains its enchantment today. The exchange of hair as a token of love goes back to the pharaohs and queens of Ancient Egypt. The fragility and beauty of hair inspired the creation of jewelry in England and France in the early Eighteenth Century. Such pieces were worn as reminders of loved ones who had passed on, and exhibited the meticulous diligence of their creators, who wove the thin strands into braids and created intricate designs. Even art and literature suggested that women’s hair possessed magical qualities and suffused it with symbolic meaning.


Clicking on the examples throughout this post will redirect you to their sources (provided the examples are not privately owned or from expired auction listings, as is the case with many which link to Pinterest).



The notion of hair as sentimental was popularized in England in 1861, when the death of Prince Albert compelled the grief-stricken Queen Victoria to permit only dark attire at court. The distraught monarch took to wearing jewels with locks of her late beloved's hair, and the fashion was soon emulated by other mourners. It soon spread throughout England and eventually across the sea to America, where during the Civil War military wives treasured locks of their departing husbands’ hair. From the 1850s through the 1880s, hairwork was all the rage. Women were so enamoured with the pieces that they purchased kits to craft their own from the hair of their husbands and children. Indeed, the cultural significance of hair mementos was made evident in written works such as Alexander Pope’s The Rape of the Lock and Jane Austen’s treasured novel Sense and Sensibility. Hair, though the most popular medium in the creation of mourning jewelry, was not the only material employed. Many designs were set against ivory. Some were framed by gold; others featured onyx or enamel. A myriad of adornments were used, as well; among them pearls and gems like diamonds, emeralds, amethyst, sapphire, and topaz. Just as the materials in the pieces varied, so too did the types of pieces themselves: Not all mourning pieces were brooches; lockets, rings, and miniature portraits also proliferated.

The creation of hair tokens required scrupulous preparation. For the hair to be properly preserved, it was boiled in soda water and then carefully divided into groups of twenty to thirty strands. Besides jewelry, hairwork spawned a number of creations, including bracelets, rugs, and furniture. The dawn of the Industrial Revolution and shifting views about the importance of hygiene saw the crafting of hairwork decline in the late Nineteenth Century, as new means of production and a waning emphasis on sentimentality brought the practice to an end. Nonetheless, a fascination with extant examples prevails among collectors and admirers today.




The album above (click on the arrows to scroll through the pages; click on the pages to enlarge), from the NY Public Library Digital Gallery, exhibits just how infinite the possibilities were for designing mourning jewels. The symbolism employed was often derived from the artwork of the time. Brooches made art more accessible to the public, as people could fathom connections between imagery in their jewelry and artwork in museums.



Natural symbolism can be seen across the whole history of mourning jewelry. The poppy, for instance, holds the timeless message of remembrance of loss through conflict (indicated by its blood red colour) and has been found everywhere from Egyptian tombs, to Roman shrines to Demeter and Diana, to present day war memorial ceremonies. The poppy also provides seeds for opium, a remedial drug for insomnia. Thus, the poppy has long represented both blood and sleep, two things closely tied to death.


The forget-me-not is eponymous; a popular symbol in neoclassical jewelry, it was often utilized after the world wars, conveying a clear message with its very name. The cypress, considered a mourning tree by the ancient Romans, is often seen in the background of neoclassical jewelry behind its less somber sister, the willow. The cypress casts a dense and dark shadow over gravestones, and its unique shape points skyward, directing the viewer’s eyes to the heavens and to the importance of the after-life. The dainty and pure daisy alludes to youthful innocence, and, like the lily, is found in pieces mourning the loss of children and unmarried women. The weeping willow has certainly earned its name: The tree is the most common botanical symbol in mourning jewelry. It seems to empathize with the mourner, as its shape resembles a hunched, crying figure, and its leaves look like tears.



In terms of the animal kingdom, birds were popular symbols for their grace and heavenly nature, qualities enhanced by their ability to fly high and far. The dove, however, was perhaps the most common bird in mourning pieces. Its pure white feathers symbolized an immortal soul. It also had connotations of peace and hope, specifically when it was depicted carrying an olive branch. Doves were often manifest as lovers, offering comfort to the living that their immortal soul would always remain with the deceased. They often had religious connotations, and sometimes represented the Holy Spirit. Peacocks also feature in mourning brooches, and are perhaps one of their more intriguing and complex symbols, with roots in alchemy. The point at which a metal’s purities are removed and gold is on the verge of formation is known as ‘cauda pavonis’, which literally translates into what we know as a peacock’s tail. The inclusion of a peacock's tail, then, symbolized that just as every metal holds the potential to make gold, within each soul (once its impurities are removed), there is a golden and pure soul waiting to be uncovered. Peacocks represented this moment of unity between man, nature, and the divine.



Certain objects suggested the macabre and the morbid. An upside-down torch represented abandoned hope and the struggles of a life without light. Conversely, a torch, when right-side up, was a symbol of guidance through life’s dark moments and of enlightenment and intelligence. The hourglass, skulls, and skeletons acted as memento mori; they suggested that time and one's lifespan were ever elapsing, and prompted individuals to act in a manner that would be judged positively by God. Columns, found predominately in neoclassical jewelry, stood for various things: a broken column represented a life cut short, and an unbroken column was a strong pillar of eternity and unconditional love from which mourners could derive support. The presence of drapery atop a column signified death, and upright columns pointed toward the heavens comforted mourners with their reminder of eternal life. A more obvious symbol was the urn, an object hearkening to the deceased and associated memories. These were typically placed at the forefront of imagery on brooches, with their prominence emphasizing their relative importance.


Unsurprisingly, another recurring theme in mourning jewelry was eternity, most often represented by the serpent, the belt, or the knot. Serpents were typically shown consuming their own tail to suggest eternity, rebirth, or immortality. They could also represent the deceit that transpired in the Garden of Eden, serving to remind the wearer of his sins. Belts might loop around themselves, symbolizing eternity, fidelity, and protection. The belt buckle strengthened the eternal bond between souls, and provided a sense of support to the wearer. Knots were often accompanied by a dove and the saying "the further apart, the tighter the knot"; just as a knot tightens and becomes stronger when each end is pulled, the eternal bond between two people (often lovers) is usually strengthened by death, rather than weakened by it. A Celtic mystic knot, though comparatively uncommon in mourning jewels, alluded to the idea of birth and rebirth into the eternal world. Other common symbols included arrows and quivers, trumpets, eyes, and the trinity of the cross, the heart, and the anchor. Arrows and quivers represented Cupid as instigator of God’s hope that love blossomed between two individuals. A broken arrow suggested a life, or a love, cut short. Trumpets were celebratory symbols, announcing the arrival of a soul into heaven. Another hopeful symbol was the combination of a cross, a heart, and an anchor, which suggested faith, love, and hope. These symbols often overlapped and combined with one another, illustrating that hope could be gleaned through faith, and vice versa.


Eyes were commonly found in jewelry and brooches, though not all brooches depicting eye imagery could be considered mourning brooches. For example, if there was no tear in the depicted eye, then the piece of jewelry was not a mourning token, but intended as a secret keepsake, to be kept by an individual in a clandestine romantic relationship. Hence, these tokens were often called "Lovers' Eyes".



Lovers' Eyes originated in 1785, when the Prince Regent, the future George IV, fell in love with the Catholic Maria Fitzherbert, but was forbidden to enter into matrimony with her due to the Royal Marriages Act. Consequently, after marrying Maria in secret, George wore a reproduction of her eye in a locket under his lapel, to keep her both hidden and close to his heart. He imagined that only a lover could recognize the eye of their better half, as a testament to the intimacy of their relationship. This sentiment soon became quite popular, and was fashionably adopted by other lovers who, like the young prince, commissioned miniature paintings of the eyes of their beloveds to keep on their persons.



Finally, even the numerous colours in mourning jewelry had inherent, respective meanings. The red and brown tones in sepia symbolized earth and blood, a combination of which was associated with death. Often, hair was crushed and added to these pigments. Blues were usually reserved for royalty, as was the crown motif. White symbolized the purity of the deceased’s eternal soul, and was predominately reserved for pieces commemorating children and unmarried women. White pearls perhaps represented tears, as some were worth nearly as much as diamonds. Black, naturally, was the obvious colour of mourning, and the ominous shade of gray was usually created with jet, a black, fossilized coral. For the first year of royal mourning in Victorian England, only jet or black enamel jewelry was worn by the grieving. The price and colour of gold testified to the wearer’s commitment and love for the deceased. Poorer families, for instance, would often pool their savings to purchase a gold brooch for a deceased relative.









Bibliography


1. Harmeyer, Rachel. Objects of Immortality: Hairwork and Mourning in Victorian Visual Culture. 2018, uh-ir.tdl.org/bitstream/handle/10657/3003/Harmeyer.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y.


2. Holm, Christiane. “Sentimental Cuts: Eighteenth-Century Mourning Jewelry with Hair.” Eighteenth-Century Studies, vol. 38, no. 1, 2004, pp. 139–143. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/30053632. Accessed 9 July 2020.


3. McMaster, Celeste. Review of Relics of Death in Victorian Literature and Culture, by Deborah Lutz. Studies in the Novel, vol. 48 no. 1, 2016, p. 135-137. Project MUSE, doi:10.1353/sdn.2016.0002.


4. Peters, Hayden. Art of Mourning – A Resource for Mourning, Memorial, Sentimental Jewellery and Art, artofmourning.com/.


5. Zhou, Zihan. “The Lover's Eye Jewelry.” 2019, doi: 10.25236/iwacle.2018.036.

My perusals of the online realm often lead to many an intriguing discovery in the way of material culture. In recent weeks, I've happened several times upon a particular sort of object of which I had no prior awareness: an oddity called a "dummy board". With my interest piqued, I endeavoured to do some independent searching to unearth more on these peculiar objects.


I found that these objects remain largely shrouded in mystery to antiques specialists and art historians alike. The dummy board, which made its first appearance in the early Seventeenth Century, may have served any number of practical purposes - if its purpose was even practical at all. There is suggestion that they may have been merely humourous, perhaps meant to aid in the playing of jokes. Still, the predominant theory posits that these flat life-sized silhouettes, executed in the trompe l'oeil style of painting and given bevelled edges to make them seem more lifelike, were employed by great houses as deterrents to intrusion and thievery. It's not a terribly farfetched proposal; in Georgian England, for instance, wealthy homeowners would often depart on sojourns to the continent to undertake a Grand Tour, or perhaps vacate their property for a stay at a medicinal spa. The placing of dummy boards within their home may have served as a safeguard against an attempted breaking and entering in their absence. It seems a bit comical to our modern sensibilities, but from a distance, such figures may very well have successfully thwarted thieveries.

And one recorded instance of the use of dummy boards attests to this: I found a rather amusing account of a gentleman from Lancaster who employed dozens of them in the guise of oversized armed soldiers and lined them along the colonnades of his residence. The deception must have been quite convincing, because a Yorkshireman from nearby was so alarmed at the sight that he dispatched his own militia to confront the guarding "soldiery". Sadly, each of the brave lads defending the house was lost in the ensuing gunfire.


Boards like the one above were sometimes placed outside taverns so as to encourage men to enlist. Dummy boards were not always so martial, however. Many extant examples take the guise of our four-footed companions as well as beasts more exotic (the latter were often kept by those in the upper echelons of society as creatures of intrigue). While I'm inclined to suspect that these in particular might have lent private spaces a homier aspect, like so many other items in grand homes, they primarily served to emphasize the status of their owners. Boards representing servants and gardeners were carefully placed across one's property for similar purpose. Rather whimsically, depictions of "sightseers" could even be found in the gazebos and follies which dotted a property's grounds, hearkening to the contemporary popularity among tourists of paying visits to grand houses.



There is also speculation that dummy boards were used by shopkeepers to advertise wares, which certainly seems plausible. One thoughtful suggestion posits that their presence helped to alleviate loneliness. This is especially touching when considering how a board depicting a dog or cat might have served as a reminder of a beloved pet, and even more bittersweet if one imagines a human likeness offering comfort to the grieving after loss. The frequency of dummy boards depicting children does prompt me to wonder if they comforted families in an era when infant and child mortality were so common. Whatever purpose dummy boards served in days past, their use eventually declined, and they largely fell out of fashion by the Nineteenth Century. Nevertheless, these mysterious objects continue to intrigue.










Bibliography


1. Edwards, Clive. “Dummy Board Figures as Images of Amusement and Deception in Interiors, 1660-1800.” Studies in the Decorative Arts, vol. 10, no. 1, 2002, pp. 74–97., doi:10.1086/studdecoarts.10.1.40662993.


2. Honey, Luke. “What Is a Dummy Board?” Homes and Antiques, 20 Dec. 2018, www.homesandantiques.com/antiques/collecting-guides-antiques/experts/what-is-a-dummy-board/.


3. Reif, Rita. “The Whimsical Dummy Board.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 8 Feb. 1981, www.nytimes.com/1981/02/08/arts/antiques-the-whimsical-dummy-board.html.

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"How these curiosities would be quite forgott, did not such idle fellowes as I am putt them downe."

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