It’s made of engraved ivory; lined in sandalwood, and was created in Visakhapatnam, India.

The expert of the Antiques Roadshow dated it to the second half of the 18th century and estimated its worth to at least between £ 5’000 and £ 8’000. You’d have to sew and sell quite a few handkerchiefs for that!

Historical hipsters: Shakespeare and Elizabeth I get makeovers from modern artists

I admit, seeing “Elizabeth I” and “hipster” in one sentence is painful; Shakespeare, however…

For Yesterday’s series “Secret Life of…”, historian Dr Suzannah Lipscom and a team of digital artists have given a number of historical portraits a modern make-over. Maybe nothing for purists, but I think it’s a fascinating idea, though the execution is a bit hit and miss. Marie Antoinette looks like Lindsey Lohan. Maria Theresia is nicht amüsiert.

But this – this, dear friends, is priceless:

In case the title of this post wasn’t a give-away:

Genius! I absolutely love the robotic hand! Now I’d like to see modern!Collingwood, wearing dungarees and battling snails in his cabbage patch in Morpeth.

Well, I have a contribution as well. Beat that!

Well, and then there’s this, of course – yes, we’ve had it before, but it’s so amazing, it deserves an encore. Plus, you can never have too much of a good thing.

Dear readers, I give you

A BOX.

CONTAINING VICTORIAN OWL EARRINGS.

OWL EARRINGS!

TAWNY OWL EARRINGS! IN A CAGE!

If you’re not squeeing with delight and pawing at the screen right now, then – well, then you don’t. But these earrings are some of the most astonishing pieces of jewellery I’ve ever come across. According to the Antiques Roadshow expert, the owls date to between 1865  – 1868, and he valued them at £ 3’000 (!!!).

And the cherry on top of the awesome-cake: the owner does still wear these earrings – the last time at a Harry Potter fancy dress party! Go you, Hedwig!

A lady brought along four 18th century fashion guides, dated 1795. Illustrated with 174 of the most stunning fashion plates, these guides gave highly detailed information on all things chic. What to wear, where when, how and in what manner – the “Vogue” of the Age of Enlightenment, of sorts, only without the intent to make everybody look like clowns. Bonnets, morning dresses, gloves, even how to style your ringlets. The complete guide to beauty.

How I’d love to flip through those pages… I did flip something else, though, when the expert stated that the value of those guides was in the fashion plates (about £100 per plate), and what some would do was to cut the books to sell them.

Pray tell, what did I just hear? Cut the books? Cut the books?!

How about pointing out the historic value, which is in the context? How about selling prints instead? I hope to the Gods nobody ever comes along and has a long-lost portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds valued by her, she might advice to cut it down to fit the frame.

Luckily, the owner of the books immediately said that she had no intention to cut the books. Brava, brava!

Edit for clarification: the expert didn’t say “go forth and cut ye olde bookes”. But she said, as I wrote above, that the value was only in the fashion plates, made no mention of the historical value and context at all, and gave the impression that cutting the books wouldn’t be a big deal. Antiques Roadshow experts always put emphasis on context and historical value as soon as an item dates back to WWI or WWII. However, history is more than wars. I don’t think a comment along the lines of “…some would cut the books to sell them, which would be a real shame/remove the historical context etc.” would have been too much to ask of an expert.

Here are some of the plates – please note that I had to do a bit of “cut and paste” work to show them as complete as possible, but due to ratio issues during capping, you can sometimes see where I patched the individual pictures together. Nevermind, I hope you will enjoy them, anyway.

“Watering Place” – needless to say, this was my favourite of the plates shown on telly!

What fascinated me was the date of these guides – 1795. It’s very much Regency – which was still 16 years away! Fashion is faster than politics, it seems!

The Lord Mayor of Newcastle’s Mansion in Fernwood Road in Jesmond has been broken into on  1 April. Police believe that  burglars broke in through the cellar overnight between last Monday and Tuesday. The criminals stole

• a gold Nobel Peace Prize awarded to Labour Party founder Arthur Henderson in 1934 (the medal bears the inscription “Parlimentum Norvegial A Munro Henderson” and is with a presentation scroll in a leather case)
• a large amount of antique silverware (silver cups dating back to 1919, a set of four Victoria napkin rings embossed with a star from 1875, a William IV snuff box dating back to 1834, a George II mustard pot from 1759 and a Queen Anne silver love cup engraved with two Queen Anne coat of arms)
• and a lock of hair from Admiral Lord Collingwood. It was kept in a circular oak box with an engraved inscription: “This box which was made out of transform of the Royal Sovereign and enclosed a lock of the hair of the late Lord Collingwood, was presented by Admiral Thomas to the Corporation of Newcastle Upon Tyne.”

These are very distinct items which are almost impossible to sell through “regular” channels (unless the criminals melt the silver down, which I really don’t hope they’ll do), and I don’t think waiting for any of these items to turn up on The Antique’s Roadshow in twenty years is the way to go. So let’s try to do a bit of detective work:

There’s not much we can do about the medal or the silverware, but if anybody, anywhere should try to sell a lock of Collingwood’s hair or inquire about its value, chances are that one of us will notice. So please, keep your eyes and ears open, and don’t hesitate to contact the police if you see somebody trying to sell any of the above-mentioned items!

Anyone with information on the burglary is asked to call Northumbria Police on 101 or Crimestoppers on 0800-555-111.

By the way, former  Newcastle United chairman Freddy Shepherd and technology tycoon Graham Wylie have offered £30,000 for the return of these items.

I was sorting through the Little Box of Horrors today (means: my photo box), and came across one such historic dress. It’s probably the one that’s most well-known outside of Switzerland, and often erroneously thought to be the national dress. But it’s  actually the “Bernese Sunday Dress”, and it’s kindly modelled here by Miss Lilian Joyful, my oldest sister.

The dress she’s wearing belonged to my great-great aunt’s mother in law, so I guess we can date it back to end of the 19th/early 20th century. Despite the notorius dislike for change in Switzerland, cantonal dresses have changed in style through the centuries, but not much. You have stays, shifts, stockings, sometimes pantaloons, shoebuckles… and breeches for the men, as demonstrated here.

Here’s a picture of an antique top/stays of one such dress. It’s made of velvet and linen, the buttons are heavy silver.

Cantonal dresses are still worn on special events all across Switzerland, but far more in the country than in the city. I haven’t seen anybody in such a dress for ages in my city. It’s a bit of a shame, really; not only because it’s yet another tradition that’s slowly getting lost, but those dresses are also the only 18th century fashion which is still used “in real life” outside of historical re-enactment.

Is there a national/regional dress where you come from? Please share, I’m curious!

The more you know!

( Source )

In the left corner, we have the contender:

St. Osram, Patron Saint of light-emitting Diodes!

Lithe and wiry, this much-celebrated figure of spiritual enlightment knows how to place a punch. He’s bursting with confidence, declaring in a recent interview that he was born to be the LEDer of the spiritual boxing world, and that he’s already made plans on how to spend the purse of £ 950.

And now there’s rattling applause for the man, the king, the champion in the right corner,

St. Hilarius, Bishop of Poitièrs!

Known for his hymn-writing as well as his public discussions, this saint is not to be trifled with! He’s held the title of Eternal Lightweight Champion for 655 consecutive years, and many say that St. Osram doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to win this fight.

But enough with the talking, it’s starting!

Ah, what a sight…

… just look at St. Osram’s footwork, it looks like he’s dancing!

Careful now, St. Hilarius! Now that was a fine hook by St. Osram…

…jab jab jab… cross… what a combination!

But… wow!

That was a completely unexpectedd straight hook, and now he’s out cold!

Was that it? After only a few seconds? Looks like.

Referee Judge starts counting… will he make it?

Even saints have their limits…

…. 10 …
… 9 …
… 8 ….
… 7 …
… 6 …
… 5 …
… 4 …
… 3 …
… 2 …
… 1 1/2…
… 1 …

OUT!

Ladies and gentlemen, the new Eternal Lightweight Champion is

ST. OSRAM!

The crowd goes wild, some fans are fainting! I wish you could see these triumphant scenes!

While the new champion is celebrated by his team, the members of the consistory of the St. Hilarius church in Näfels have fainted. I wonder whether that’s due to the devastating defeat of their champion or because the referee just informed them that they’ll have to pay £ 6’000 in legal fees and compensation? But no need to worry, I see that their lawyer is approaching with sel volatile to revive their spirits.

Ah, I just hear our reporter is having some interviewees… over to you, John!

“Test… test… are we on air? Yes? Good. Well, I’m standing here with St. Hilarius, who lost after a short, but dedicated fight. St. Hilarius – what was this fight really about?”

“Uhm… it was never about the money, you know, but about traditions. Traditions are important.”

“If it wasn’t about the money, why did your management turn down all volunteers who offered to spring in? Including your own bishop?”

“What bishop? I’m the bishop! I’m the biggest! I’m the greatest! I’m the-”

“Ahem, yes, thank you for your time.”

Selected comments of the public on this fight:

“I’d demand a payback of all the fees paid through the years! With interest!”
“Do you still have the receipts?”

“This farmer sold his soul for £ 950 silverlings.”
“Yeah, what an idiot. He should have tried on ebay.”

“A contract is a contract, even if it’s 650 years old. The farmer should have been made to pay.”
“The lawyers of the House of Habsburg just called. They demand compensation for their fallen kinsmen in the battle of Sempach back in 1386.”

The consistory of the church has accepted the judge’s decision. The farmer is happy, traditionalists are disappointed, the judgement, for once, was just. The Eternal Light will shine on, sponsored by a number of volunteers. However, we shouldn’t forget that this story began with a murderer and his victim. I can’t help but wonder if a prayer for their souls wouldn’t be more in the spirit of the whole thing than going to court or buying bottles of lamp oil. But hey, what do I know. I use oil only for salad.

A short summary: in 1357 (1357. 1357!) one Konrad Müller allegedly murdered one Heinrich Stucki. To avoid being executed for this crime, he promised to provide the Eternal Light of the aptly named St. Hilarius church in Näfels for all eternity with oil from his walnut trees.

655 (655. 655!) years later, the trees have long gone, and the current farmer refuses to pay about £ 950 for 20 years of Eternal Light Maintenance. Alas the church insists that the current owner of Müller’s land has to pay. While any person with some common sense and decency would think this to be a no-brainer, it’s serious business for the church, and they announced that they’ll take the farmer to court.

But now it looks like Konrad Müller wasn’t a murderer in the first place!

— Theme from Twilight Zone —

Just like in the story of Cain and Abel, old papers talk of a man called Tschudi murdering his brother to claim their father’s land.

Was it fratricide then?

Did Heinrich Stucki live happily ever after and somebody else was murdered?

Are the grumpy ghosts of the Tschudi brothers haunting the church of Näfels?

Or wasn’t there a murder case in the first place?

Saint Osram weeps!

And so did the Bishop of Chur Vitus Huonder, we may assume. He’s responsible for the Näfels sheep of his flock, and offered to pay the bill himself to settle the case peacefully. That came as a surprise, as Bishop Huonder was stuck in 1357, mentally. But be that as it may, neither the president of the church commission nor its lawyer deemed their bishop worthy of a reply. They also refused an offer by the farmer’s neighbour to transfer the “duty” to his own land, and even the judge was ignored when he asked for some common sense.

The church wants its blood money, period.

The court decision is expected any day now. In my opinion, we need neither lawyers nor bishops here, though. We need Sherlock Holmes.

THE RADIANT BOY (*.pdf file)
Four Ghost Stories from the Age of Sail

At the annual meeting of the “Young Bucks Club”, four officers serving in the Royal Navy during the Age of Sail share ghostly naval tales:

“The Radiant Boy”
“Crawford’s Casket”
“The Last Journey of HMS Dover“
“Last Service”

The second book in Emma Collingwood’s and Amandine de Villeneuve’s “Penny, Dreadful and Tarbottom”-series, “The Radiant Boy” is an eerie and touching tribute to the classic English ghost story and the Royal Navy.

Text: Emma Collingwood
Ten colour illustrations by Amandine de Villeneuve
Editor: Timothy T. Tarbottom

Buy it on Amazon UK or order directly from the author.