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18th Century Dutch Brass Mortar and Pestle

 

Some things are just too cool to pass up. Like this doovelackey…

I picked this honey up online about a week ago, and the moment I saw it, I knew I had to add it to my collection. I just can’t resist antique brassware. Such variety, such beauty…I had to have it!

Mortars and pestles made of bronze (and later, brass) were very common in the period from the later-Renaissance period, up to the 1800s. They were relatively easy to make, extremely tough, long-lasting, and could be made into attractive shapes.

This particular mortar and pestle was made in the Netherlands in the early 1700s and while it’s only a medium-sized one, I just had to have it the moment I saw it online. I ummed-and-aahed over it for months, but when nobody else stepped forward, I finally plucked up the courage and decided to buy it. It took a week before it arrived, and it was the most anxious and frustrating week of my life. But, it’s here!

The base of the mortar, which was probably spun on a lathe, has two sets of concentric rings for decoration, and a ‘5’ for size. You might notice that the small hole drilled into the base of the mortar is slightly off-center (no, that’s not the angle of the dangle, that’s how it really looks).

Brass mortars and pestles were made by either being cast (usually sand-cast) or by being spun on a lathe, and the brazier using a chisel or tool to carve away the excess metal, leaving us with beautifully finished brasswork like this.

Here’s a few more shots of my latest toy:

Both pieces are in wonderful condition, considering their ages. No dents or cracks or damage anywhere.

The interior of the mortar is slightly concave, and full of dents and dings from the thousands of times that the pestle has been smashed into it or ground against it, in the course of hundreds of years of use.

I’ve often wondered why these mortars have those round, ball or knob-handles on the sides. For a period, they seemed to have been very common.

Someone I spoke to suggested that they might serve a more practical function than just a way to pick up the mortar, and that perhaps the handles held the mortar in a cradle or stand.

I’d never heard of such a thing, but it did seem to make sense. After searching online, I did find one photographic reference to wooden mortar and pestle stands for sets like the one shown here. I was so intrigued by it, I’m thinking of making my own.

With any luck, my next post in this blog will be about making that stand, and showing it off online!

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“Velvetone Bell Company” Foot-Plunger Bell

 

I showed this to about half a dozen people on the way home after buying it, not a single person could tell me what the hell it was before I told them!

But it’s neat, yeah?

What we got here is a “Velvetone Bell Company” streetcar or horse-carriage bell, from the late 1800s. Bells like this were found on streetcars, cablecars, trams, horse-carriages, and even some early motor-cars, and were used by the driver to warn people ahead of approaching traffic.

Bells like this featured a removable plunger, usually connected to the bell by a short chain (as you can see in the picture), which could be pressed down into the bell using the driver’s foot, which activated the spring-tensioned striker-merchanism, which rang the bell…very loudly! Twice!

This bell hadn’t been used in 50 or more years, and so as a result, the striker mechanism inside the bell was extremely stiff. After a few experimental ding-dings, the whole thing seized up! So I pulled it apart…

…then cleaned, and lubricated the striker mechanism…

…to get it ringing again. Although this looks extremely crude, it’s actually a very effective mechanism. The chunk of brass on the right with the screw in it is the hammer that hits the side of the bell. The rest of it is all part of the spring-mechanism that jerks it back and forth to ring at each push-pull motion of the plunger.

The last thing I did was to re-reddify the red background on the plaque at the top of the bell…

…and put in some modern screws. I’ll replace these with brass ones one day, if I can find any.

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Antique Magnifying Watch Stand

 

You certainly find the strangest things at flea-markets, and I think this is definitely one of the stranger things that I’ve ever found in all my years of searching!

I couldn’t figure this thing out when I first saw it. It’s chrome plated steel or some such thing, and it folds up, like you see there. It also pops open like this:

There’s a hook at the back, and at the front there’s a magnifying glass, and the whole frame is riveted together. But what is it? When I figured out what the missing link was, it all made sense!

Hey, hey!! It’s a pocketwatch stand!

The whole point of this whimsical little device is that it folds up for travel, and it’s something that you’d take along with you when you went on a long journey. When you reached your destination, you opened the stand up, popped it on your bedside table, and hung your watch on it. There’s a magnifying glass at the front so that in the middle of the night, you can roll over in bed, look through the lens and read the time with minimal fuss!

Was it expensive? Nope! Are they particularly common or rare? I have no idea. I’ve seen many watch-stands, both new and antique, made of everything from brass to wood to solid sterling silver, but this is the first that I’ve ever seen with a magnifying glass on it!

Brief research suggests that these aren’t uncommon, but I doubt that anybody ever did a roaring trade in these things – Travelling watch-stands with magnifying glasses certainly did exist, but they were rarely anything more than the little trinket that this one was. It was probably just a cheap, convenient travel-object, even when it was brand new, which was probably sometime between 1890-1920 or 1930. It’s quirky though, and that’s why I had to have it!

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Puzzle Box No. 2!

 

Antique Singer sewing machines of the 27-28 variety, and the 15 variety had special toolboxes that came with them, when they were brand new, back in the 1880s and 1890s. Made of wood, rectangular in shape, with a square cross-section, these boxes held all the main tools and accessories that one of these machines would need: Bobbins, needles, screwdrivers, various attachments and bits and pieces which were vital to the smooth operation of the sewing machine.

Made from 1889 until about 1910, these wooden boxes, called “puzzle boxes”, by collectors, are relatively rare. Rare, because they were made for a short period of time, and rare because they were only made for two different types of Singer machines.

A few years back, I bought, and have since filled up – a puzzle box for my Singer 28 portable machine.

Since then, I got my hands on another sewing machine…

…which is a Singer 15, the only other model of Singer machine for which a puzzle box was made.

After cleaning, fixing and restoring this machine, I thought:

“Wouldn’t it be awesome if I had a puzzle box for this, too?” 

Then I thought:

“Yeah. Right…” 

Then about two weeks ago, I saw this…

That’s right! Another puzzle box!

It was empty, but it was cheap, so I snapped it up at once! I brought it home and started filling it up. So far, I’ve put in a screwdriver (left), a tucker (far right), a full packet of needles (far right, again), and a ruffler (Inner-right, top).

There’s still quite a few pieces missing (compare with upper box), but the main piece missing is the rack for the bobbins. Fortunately, this can be homemade. Bobbin racks for Singer 15 puzzle-boxes were shaped out of thin, steel wire, and once I’ve got the wire, I reckon it’ll be easy to shape it and simply screw it into place. Singer 15 puzzle boxes are even rarer than the 28 ones, or so I believe. I can’t wait to get this filled up and complete!

As Fats Waller said: “I’ve got my fingers crossed…” 

 

 

 

 

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Making your Mark: Studying Silver and Reading Hallmarks

 

Silver has been valued by mankind for thousands of years, along with its big brother, gold. Silver has had a big impact on our lives and our language, although we don’t always realise it. A silver spoon. Silverware. The Pound Sterling. A hallmark of quality. Up to scratch. Acid test. These are all expressions or phrases which have their history in mankind’s love affair with silver. So, what is silver and what are we looking at in this posting?

Silver is an elemental metal. In this posting I’ll be covering what silver is used for, the various grades of silver, and how to identify silver hallmarks. Let’s begin!

What Is Silver?

Silver is an elemental metal – a metal that appears in nature – and has been used for thousands of years to make everything from coins to cups to candlesticks. Silver can be melted down and reformed, it can be used to make almost anything, and it has been mined everywhere from China to Europe, England to South America. For centuries, conspicuous ownership and use of silver was seen as a status symbol. Grand households could, and did, amass great quantities of silverware – everything from shaving scuttles to candlesticks, ice-buckets to chamber pots!

What are Hallmarks and Why do they Exist?

Hallmarks are the little symbols, pictures, letters and numbers stamped onto the little (and big!) pieces of silver that we buy from places like antiques shops, jewelry shops, watchmakers and silversmiths. They have existed for centuries and centuries of history, in one form or another and are generally recognised as being the oldest regulated form of buyer-protection in the world.

…why?

It is impossible to tell, just by looking at a piece of gold, or silver, what level of purity the metal is. It could be 10 percent, 20 percent, 40 percent or 90 percent purity. It could be solid silver, pure silver, silver plated, or not silver at all! So, how do you know?

You don’t! Not unless you have it tested. But to have everything you own tested and checked all the time would be a pain in the ass! Right? As Yente would say: “Of course right!”

The Assay Office

Because it would be impractical to have every single piece that a person buys, tested for silver purity, the way to ensure consistency, honesty and proper regulation was to introduce a system whereby every piece of silver which could be legally sold, had to be independently tested and indelibly marked as being made of silver.

Enter the Assay Office.

An Assay Office was the institution or body which regulated the testing and marking of silver and gold. The oldest surviving one in Great Britain is the Goldsmiths’ Hall in London, which dates back to the 14th century! It was made law in England and France in the 13th and 14th centuries, that all silver had to contain hallmarks – symbols that swore to the fact that the metal had been independently tested for purity – before it could be legally sold on the open market.

Goldsmiths’ Hall in London. This building (or rather, the original built on this site; this is the third such Goldsmiths’ Hall) gave us the origin of the term “Hallmark”.

It is from the Goldsmiths’ Hall in London which the term ‘hallmark’ originates. They still carry out hallmarking services there to this day.

Hallmarks are not only found on silver – they’re also found on gold and platinum, but in this posting, I’m concentrating on silver marks.

How old are Hallmarks?

Hallmarking is the oldest form of consumer protection in the world that still exists today in something approximating its original form. It was established in the FOURTH CENTURY (300s), and more or less the same form of hallmarking has existed, in one way or another, ever since.

Hallmarking as we recognise it today was first standardised in the medieval period, starting in France in 1275, and then in England, in 1300. The types and numbers of hallmarks rose and fell over time, depending on the laws and regulations of the era. A traditional set of European hallmarks will be anywhere from four to six in number, by which they can be dated, identified and certified as being gold, or silver.

Throughout the succeeding centuries, extra hallmarks and standards were introduced, such as creating proper, well-regulated assay offices, assay marks, date letters, and maker’s marks, in addition to simple purity or ‘fineness’ marks.

Types of Hallmarks

There are a number of different hallmarks in the world, and they vary wildly by country, but there are only about half a dozen specific *types* of marks, that you really need to be aware of. I’m going to talk about them here.

Fineness Mark

The first mark you’re likely to find on a piece of silver is the fineness mark. This mark indicates the purity or ‘fineness’ of the silver, whether it’s 750/1,000, 800, 900, 925, 935, 950, etc. There are two types of fineness marks: Traditional fineness marks (usually represented by animal symbols) and numerical fineness marks (called ‘milesimal’ fineness marks). Traditional fineness marks are more old fashioned and stylistic; milesimal fineness marks are a more modern method of marking.

Degrees of fineness vary from country to country, as each nation or continent has a minimum standard of silver purity which may be classified as “solid silver”. In Britain, ‘solid silver’ has to be at least 92.5% purity (called ‘sterling silver’). The lowest legal grade in Europe is 800/1000 silver (80% pure), which is enforced in countries like Germany. Consequently, 800 silver is generally known as ‘Continental’ silver. Countries like Switzerland have a slightly higher grade, which is 935 silver (93.5% pure). For a short period in Britain, the standard was 950 (95% pure), although that was discontinued in 1720.

The traditional fineness mark in Britain is the symbol of a lion walking to the left, called a ‘Lion Passant’, which indicates Sterling Silver (92.5% pure). A higher grade of silver (95%) was traditionally marked with the picture of a woman, sitting down, with a shield at her feet (Lady Britannia). This grade of silver is known as Britannia Silver.

Britannia-grade silver was discontinued in Britain in 1720, because while it was a higher grade of silver purity, the lack of enough alloying copper made the metal far too soft to work properly and silversmiths were complaining that their finished pieces were suffering in quality as a result. So the old sterling standard was reintroduced in the 1720s. It has remained the standard in Britain ever since.

Assay/City/Town Mark

I’ve always called these things assay marks. Some texts call them City Marks, Town Marks…whatever…

The assay mark is the official hallmark of the assay office which assayed (tested) the piece of silver that you’ve got in your hand. This mark on your silver tells you that the piece was independently tested and certified to be (or be above) a specific purity of silver.

Assay marks still in use in Britain today include the Castle (for Edinburgh), the Anchor (for Birmingham), the Rose (for Sheffield. Previously, this was a Crown), and the Leopard’s Head (for London). There used to be several assay offices scattered throughout Britain, but now only a handful remain. Silver pieces with the marks of defunct assay offices on them can command high prices due to their comparative rarity.

Maker’s Mark

Compulsory in Britain since the mid-1300s is the Maker’s Mark. The Maker’s Mark is usually the initials of the silversmith, or the company, which manufactured the piece. Maker’s marks are highly individual. As some initials can be repeated between makers, different sizes, styles, fonts, and arrangements of letters were used to make each mark recognizable. Different styles, shapes and sizes of borders around the marks also helped to make them stand out, and be identified by the general public.

Date Letter

The date letter system was introduced so that people would know how old their silver was. Each assay office would have bordered sets of letters in alphabetical order, and these were used to mark each piece sent through the office to act as a date reference later on. Dating pieces can be tricky – letters changed all the time – capitals, lowercase, italics, serifs, sans serifs, different border-shapes…the list goes on. And then there’s the added factor that each set of date letters is unique to the specific assay office which marked the piece. You can’t use London date letters to date a piece assayed in Birmingham, for example – it wouldn’t work.

Duty Mark

From 1784, until 1890, an extra mark was required on British silver called a duty mark. The presence of this mark indicated that the required silver duty (silver tax) had been paid to the Crown. The Duty Mark was represented by a profile portrait of the reigning monarch of the day. There were four duty marks: George III, George IV, William IV, and Queen Victoria. The presence, or absence of a duty mark can help date the age of your piece.

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A full set of traditional English hallmarks. L-R: [D&LS] (David & Lionel Spiers. Makers). [I] – date-letter for 1885. [Anchor] – for Birmingham. [Lion Passant] – for Sterling Silver. [Monarch’s Head] – Duty Mark.

Milesimal Marks

These days, the most common type of hallmark that you’ll see on modern silver is what’s called a ‘milesimal’ fineness mark. These marks or stampings indicate the purity or ‘fineness’ of the silver in a numerical manner, instead of a symbolic manner (such as the Lion Passant).

Common milesimal marks include:

950 – 950/1000, or Britannia Silver.
935 – 935/1000, or Swiss silver.
925 – 925/1000, or Sterling Silver.
900 – 900/1000, or 90% silver by purity.
800 – 800/1000, or 80% silver by purity. AKA German Silver or Continental Silver.

You sometimes see silver purity below 800, although this tends to be rare.

One mark you might sometimes see (exclusively in American silver) is the term “COIN”, “COIN SILVER” or “FINE COIN”. This indicates that the silver piece in your hands came from the melting down of a whole heap of old, out-of-circulation silver coins. The standard purity is usually 800.

When is Silver Not Silver?

Silver has been prized by man for centuries – its colour, its sheen, its sparkle – have all made it desirable. But its price has not. To this end, silver-imitating metals have long been popular silver-substitutes, and craftsmen have often made items out of such metals to sell to people who would like something in their homes or lives that looks like silver…but which isn’t…most likely because they can’t afford the real thing.

Pewter

Another white metal which has been used, if not prized, throughout history, is one called pewter. Pewter is a mix of copper and tin, in this case, high levels of tin and low levels of copper; in older times, lead was also included. The opposite (high levels of copper, low levels of tin) gives you bronze.

Pewter has a darker, greyer colour than silver, but was nonetheless used for things as diverse as candlesticks, spoons, cups, mugs, flagons, plates, bowls and many other things. It’s sometimes plated in silver and it may have the letters ‘EPBM’ stamped on some silver-plated pewter items.

EPBM is Electroplated Britannia Metal – This means that it is silver-plated pewter. It is NOT Britannia SILVER, which is 95% silver by purity.

Nickel-Silver

Another common metal which is sometimes mistaken for silver is a material known as Nickel-Silver, which despite the name, doesn’t have any silver in it at all! Nickel-Silver is made out of an alloy of nickel, copper and zinc – it has the superficial appearance of silver, at a glance, but contains no real silver in the mix, unless it’s been silver-plated.

Nickel silver is usually marked “N.S.”. Electroplated nickel silver is “EPNS”. It’s also called German Silver, and alpacca, among many other names.

Deciphering Silver Marks

Finding out what the marks on your silver mean can be challenging. Two great online resources for finding out what they are, are the following websites:

Silver Maker’s Marks for British & Irish Silver

This isn’t an infallible site, but it lists the marks of almost every British and Irish silversmith. Useful for finding out who made your piece.

925-1000.com

The online silver encyclopedia. Not always the easiest of resources to navigate, I’ve found, but the information it provides is good, once you’ve tracked it down.

 

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The Daily Grind: The Humble Help of the Mortar and Pestle

 

I wanted to post this last year, but I ran out of time, what with end-of-year things and all that stuff going on. So…anyway, this is my first official post for 2016!! Happy reading, folks!

… … … …

Name one thing made by the hands of man, which has been in existence since prehistoric times, and which is still in use today.

Stone tools? Cave-paintings? Leopard-skin cloaks? Fred Flinstone’s sedan?

Betcha didn’t come up with a thing, didja? Betcha thought there wasn’t anything, huh? Huh? HUH??

Well…you’d be…wrong.

Because there is one thing. One tool. One implement. One device, made by the hands of man, which, in over three thousand years, has barely changed its shape, and which to this day, is still widely used by millions of people around the world, and which is still being manufactured, purchased, sold, and even by some people – collected!

You probably have a set of it right now, in your kitchen.

The humble mortar and pestle.

What is a Mortar and Pestle?

A mortar and pestle, or a pestle and mortar, is a stick or club (pestle, from the Latin ‘pinsere’: ‘to crush’), and a bowl or cup (the mortar), which are used jointly to crush, powderise, pound, compound, liquefy, mix and combine whatever is put inside the mortar. These humble tools have had countless uses throughout thousands of centuries, and their use continues right into the modern period.

The First Mortars and Pestles

The first textual mention of a mortar and pestle dates back to around 1500B.C, but their existence goes all the way into prehistory. for hundreds if not thousands of years. As a result, they’re probably unique in being one of the few inventions of early man which can truly have been said to have stood the test of time!

Mortars and pestles have always been used for the same variety of tasks – their simplicity and ease of use is why they’ve lasted so long – but while they’re mostly used in the kitchen these days, they weren’t always viewed as food-preparation tools.

The Pharmaceutical Mortar and Pestle

For several hundred years, the mortar and pestle were actually the center of the pharmaceutical trade, and any pharmacy or apothecary was bound to have one. Herbalists, druggists, pharmacists and apothecaries (who all basically dealt in the same region of manufacturing and selling medicines and curatives), were the chief users of mortars and pestles for untold centuries, to the extent that a mortar and pestle became the iconic tool of the pharmacist, much like how the mortarboard cap is linked to study and education, or how the striped red and white pole is the icon of barbers the world-over.

The word ‘drug’ comes from the Dutch word ‘droog’, meaning dried plant-matter. Originally, herbalists or apothecaries had to go out and scavenge their ingredients for cures themselves. Having gathered the necessary plants, they then had to prepare them for use. Crushing, grinding, mashing, mixing and pulverising the plants in various ways was the best method to extract the juices, saps, nectars and other innards, which contained the active ingredients which went into the medicines that the apothecary would then prescribe to his patients or customers for curing their ills.

And he or she couldn’t dispense a single teaspoon of willow-bark powder (for treating headaches), or crushed nettles (for treating bruises and bumps), without first having processed them with their trusty mortar and pestle!

The Mortar and Pestle in the Kitchen

Although historically, it was most famously used by apothecaries and pharmacists, the mortar and pestle were also used extensively in kitchens. Ancient Greeks and Romans all made use of them in one way or another, for preparing food. It’s one kitchen gadget that went in and never came out again! Most of the people reading this probably have a mortar and pestle sitting on their kitchen counter right now, even if it’s only for display purposes.

Mortars and pestles were essential in ancient kitchens – in an age before food-processors and blenders, your mortar and pestle was your food processor. Sauces, pastes, purees, jams, secret spice-blends, and even the grinding of spices themselves, were all done by dumping the ingredients into a mortar and pestle and mashing and smashing the ingredients to a pulp. To this day, you can still go to the supermarket and buy basil or sun-dried tomato ‘pesto’, which gets its name from how it was originally produced – by being ground up in a mortar with a…pestle.

Mortar Materials

Mortars and pestles are designed to mix, crush, grind and pulverise. As a result, they have to be made of very tough materials! It can’t be anything that will flake off, chip, crack, shatter or break from the constant pounding, grinding, smashing and scraping. The materials which the mortar and pestle are made of have to be easily cleaned, and they cannot absorb the essence of what they’re grinding. This would impart conflicting tastes (in cooking), or contaminate medicines (if grinding herbs for medicinal uses), which would be unpleasant, or even deadly!

With this in mind, a mortar and its accompanying pestle couldn’t just be made out of ANYTHING! The material used to manufacture them had to be strong, inert, heavy, and not susceptible to imparting anything within it to the materials being ground up inside it. Early mortars and pestles were made out of stone, or specially-fired types of clay or ceramics. When mankind attained sufficient skill, mortars and pestles were also made out of first bronze, and then brass. Bronze and brass mortars and pestles could be cast and made to a very high quality. On top of that, both metals were very strong, and neither could emit a spark – very useful, when you consider that one of their chief operators were the people who made gunpowder! These days, mortars are also made of steel, wood, and even specially-manufactured toughened glass.

The Modern Mortar and Pestle

Mortars and pestles became less and less common in its traditional pharmaceutical setting as the 19th century progressed. The rise of mass-production, and the ability of companies to mass-produce pills, lotions, potions and tablets meant that it was no longer necessary for a pharmacist to grind up your medicines for you on-site. By the 20th century, the practice was coming to an end.

Although sometimes still used in scientific laboratories for crushing ingredients used in experiments, the place that you’re most likely to find a mortar and pestle these days is in your kitchen, where many people still use them for crushing herbs, grinding spices, preparing sauces and relishes, and for mixing ingredients. Slower than using a food-processor, perhaps, but it saves power, it burns calories…and hey…it’s lots of fun smashing stuff up in a mortar! Just make sure you do it right, and don’t send stuff flying around the room!

Want to Know More?

http://www.herbmuseum.ca/content/mortar-and-pestle

http://www.liveauctiontalk.com/free_article_detail.php?article_id=206

http://www.motherearthliving.com/cooking-methods/the-mortar-and-pestle.aspx

 

 

 

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Welcome To My New Home!

 

Hello to all my friends and followers, and welcome to my new online home! After years of using WordPress.com, I’ve finally made the transition to a paid domain of my own.

This inaugural posting is here to assure you that all the contents from my old blog at ‘Not Yet Published’ have been successfully transferred across to their new home, and that you can expect more of the same in the days, weeks and months to come! So hang around and check things out, and all in good time, I’ll start posting more and more about the people, places, pieces and events that have shaped and influenced our lives…throughout history. 🙂

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Antique Gentleman’s Writing Slope. Ca. 1880.

 

Ever since I was a child, almost without exception, one type of antique has drawn my attention more than any other: Writing boxes. Also called writing slopes, lap-desks, box-desks and countless other things. This is the latest one which I found at the local flea market:

It’s not too shabby, but it ain’t fantastic, either. But I do like it, nonetheless! What we have here is a beautiful late Victorian (ca. 1880) gentleman’s writing slope. The plaque on top underneath the carry-handle says:

“~S. Neaverson, 1886.~”…

Although this gives us a glimpse into the box’s history, there’s no way of knowing if 1886 is the date of manufacture (which it almost certainly isn’t); it’s merely the date of purchase.

Most boxes of this kind that I find are in HORRENDOUS condition with wildly inflated prices! On the same day I picked this up, I saw another one on sale for $400 and in nowhere near as nice a condition as this…some people and their money…

The deciding factor in me buying this box was the fact that it had its original glass inkwell still intact. Often, these glass inkwells go missing and you never find another one. People pinch them and reuse them and you never see them again. Keys going missing is a minor inconvenience. A missing inkwell is a pain in the ass.

I am rather proud to say that I cut and filed my own key for the lock in this box. This box had a warded lever-lock, which is a bit more complicated than a straightforward lever key, but I got there in the end.

A warded lever lock is one which has a sprung lever for the key-bit to press against, to push the bolt to lock or unlock. Filing a key for this is a matter of getting the key-bit to the right dimensions and then throwing the bolt. Easy enough if it’s a one-lever lock. If it’s a two-lever or three, four, or even five, or even EIGHT lever lock, then the challenges mount, as you have to cut new grooves into the key for each lever. As this box had a simple one-lever lock, it was easy.

But this box also had a warded lock. This means that there’s an obstruction inside the lock (a ward) which the key has to bypass BEFORE it gets to the lever. It’s an added security feature. Again, wards can be as complicated or as simple as you like. In this case, I was lucky. It was a one-ward, one-lever lock. So all I had to do was file one bit to the right size, and then cut in a groove at the head of the key, so that there was a gap to bypass the ward.

It took a couple of tries and I got very sore fingers afterwards, but I got there in the end!

The box fitted out with original and period accessories. The unsharpened, unused pencil reads:

“H.B. J.H. Jackson’s Drawing Pencil. Prize Medal. London & Paris”.

Underneath that is an ivory page-turner. An underneath that is a sterling silver dip-pen marked: “S. Mordan & Co. Sterling”.

The box, fully opened. There’s a lot of storage-space underneath the two writing-leaves which are both in excellent condition.

The hand-filed key which I cut for the lock. The gap underneath the barrel is to bypass the ward in the ‘warded’ part of the ‘warded-lever’ lock. And the square bit underneath the gap is to operate the spring-lever in the lever-part of the ‘warded-lever’ lock.

I think it’s the first key I’ve cut for a lock with more than one complication to overcome in opening it!

Still, for something that’s 130-odd years old, it’s nice to see this box in such great condition. Once I get a brass keyhole-plate to neaten up the front of the box, it’ll all be complete.

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Antique Ivory Straight Razor

 

All things come to those who wait…in this case, I’ve waited about five years!

This lovely antique straight razor was mine for just a few bucks at the local flea-market last month. It’s from about 1880, and boasts original ivory scales!

I’ve always wanted a razor with ivory scales. They’re slim, cool and beautiful, and they have a lightness in the hand that celluloid doesn’t have. Plus, there’s the history factor behind it.

This particular razor was retailed by a barber in Colac, country Victoria back in about 1885, which is about the time I date this one, based on newspaper advertisements I’ve found. It was manufactured in Germany and shipped to Australia. The blade is carbon steel and is full-hollow in the grind. An excellent shaver and a wonderful addition to my collection.

Is it special? Not particularly. There must be thousands of antique ivory razors out there, but it is nice to finally have my own little piece which I can use and appreciate.

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Miniature French Opera Glasses – 6th Anniversary Post! Whoo Hoo!!

 

Studying history is a lot more than looking at books and watching documentaries and reading about stuff online written by something else – it’s about getting in contact with the everyday relics and remnants of the past which have survived from bygone eras, and seeing with our own eyes what the past was like. Personal possessions tell us so much about how life has changed, how style and design and fashion and personal tastes have all morphed and moved over time, and with the times.

A few days ago I stumbled across this curious item at the local weekend flea market. It was so whimsical and cute, I just had to make it the focus of my 6th anniversary post!

Yep, six years ago, at the end of October, 2009, I started this blog. And in honour of that momentous occasion, of which nobody reading this is likely to be aware…I present this!

And ain’t they just the cutest things ever!? Huh? Huh?? HUH!!??

So easily overlooked, I found these in a display-case of bits and pieces at the flea-market last weekend. They are possibly the world’s tiniest pair of antique opera glasses!! And they are just adorable!

What we have here is a pair of early 20th century (Ca. 1910) miniature opera glasses!

Made by Colmont of Paris, they’re marked with “Parisette” and “-x-” on the bridge, and a tiny letter ‘C’ inside a six-point Jewish star (presumably the company logo).

Are these opera glasses rare? Perhaps a bit, but not excessively so. I know that other companies in France made tiny compact opera glasses, but from what I’ve seen, very few as small as these. They measure just 3.25in across, and 1.5in high, when fully extended! The eyepieces are the size of pennies! If that doesn’t make them the world’s smallest, I dunno what does!

Here they are, compared with my other opera-glasses. Up the back is a pair of Jockey Club de Paris racing binoculars, from about 1910. Next along is a pair of nondescript brass opera glasses, probably from the turn of the century. The next pair with the blue guilloche enameled sides was made in Paris around 1880. Same with the next pair.

The middle Mother-of-Pearl set were made by Le Maire, and date to 1885 (the date is engraved on the bridge). The lorgnette opera glasses (with the folding telescope handle) are from around the same date, and were made by Iris, another famous French optician. The final and smallest pair, the Colmont set are next to them. As you can see – the size of these, even next to the next largest, is just minuscule!

Opera glasses of this style date from the turn of the century, from what my research tells me, from about 1900-1920. My research hasn’t brought up any dates more specific than that. I have read some speculation that they’re this small because they’re children’s binoculars, but I haven’t seen this claim made anywhere but on one website, so their true age and reason for their size remains a mystery. I suspect that it’s nothing more fantastic than being miniature opera glasses designed to be ultra-compact and easily stored/concealed in a lady’s clutch-purse or something, when she went out for a night’s jollification at the local theater, but they are wonderfully cute.

The glasses are made of gilt brass (brass with gold fused onto it using a healthy and safe process involving the vapourising of mercury…yum!!) and leather, which has been wrapped around the barrels. They’re certainly the smallest, and possibly the most interesting piece in my modest collection! I just had to have them, and I had to share them!