On my 21st birthday I opened a card from my parents and found a beautiful locket; they wrote how they wanted to mark the special occasion for me forever with a beautiful and inherently sentimental piece of jewellery that could be worn and treasured forever. I was immediately struck by the beauty in imbuing a moment and a lifetime of familial love into a decorative piece of metal that could house a photo, or image of my desire. It got me thinking about tombs, and what we find with bodies buried in the past. That might sound morbid, but unique decorative pieces are often one of the only things that outlives the body through all stages of decay, offering a path back to the living where it was once treasured.
In 1922, when Howard Carter unearthed the tomb of Egyptian pharaoh Tutankhamun (ruling from 1336–1327 B.C) around 5,400 precious objects accompanied his body— most prominent a gold mask decorating his face. In a similar way, Liu Sheng (d. 113 BC) was found in an extravagant jade burial suit constructed from 2,498 segments of jade and encrusted with gold wire, protecting his body in the afterlife and supposedly preventing the decomposition of his mortal body. In death Queen Victoria chose her most prized and precious jewellery to accompany her, amongst this she wore one ring for each finger and carried her specially made mourning jewels possessing her husbands name and containing locks of his hair. Here we see just three examples across history that demonstrate a rich trend of jewellery accompanying a person through life bridging the gap into death.
The examples mentioned above speak of the richest members of society, but jewellery is undoubtedly something that can be treasured by all of us. Perhaps you were given a necklace from your grandmother before she died, or an engagement ring passed down mother to daughter that you wear on a non-ring finger. This sense of taking the essence of a person and bestowing it into jewellery seems somewhat innate, a physical manifestation of familial history.
But there is a darker history to this idea of investing an unspoken bond into a token of jewellery. In the Victorian Britian, Foundling Hospitals were the sites of unnatural separation of poor mothers and their children. This may well be something you have only heard of in the context of a Jacqueline Wilson story (Hetty Feather), but these institutions intervened between workhouses and orphanages where unmarried mothers could give their children up in hopes of a better life for them where they were ensured food, clothing, (relative) safety and training for future employment as domestic servants. On separation when a mother was ripped from her child she had the opportunity to send with them a token; a small indication that once they were someone’s baby —important, unique, and loved. A mother had to attempt communicate who they were and who she was in a tiny piece of metal with the hopes that one day perhaps it could lead her child back to her. The Foundling Museum has 400 tokens from this era, many of which have been digitalised for online viewing.
Sitting at my computer, I was struck immediately by the types of items given, from an engraved mother of pearl to a hazelnut pierced such that it could be worn on a string. These objects themselves describe a version of love only made visible through jewellery. Most of these items, if worn, would likely rest near the heart or in the case of more practical items such as a spy glass or a hair pin could be clasped in the hand, their small size offering the holder a chance to fully encompass their being, much like a mother would do when she held her child. An inscribed padlock belonging to an unknown child left in 1856 inexplicably reminded me of standing on the Pont des Arts bridge in Paris where lovers place locks onto the railings capturing a singular moment of love. The locket may remain there forever, never knowing the future fate of the couple, just as most of these tokens remained forever unclaimed.
Whether left for a child, placed onto a bridge, or adorning a body after death, these unique metal objects represent a strong multitude of emotion. The embodiment of feeling, protecting us into a next life or simply making us feel beautiful and connected to our loved ones, jewellery has a deep power that is often undervalued in the 21st century in an age of severe overconsumption. People often reduce a desire for jewellery to a vanity or a flaunting public display of wealth. But jewellery has a long history of expressing love, grief, comfort, and beauty accompanying you through the best days of your life and the worst. It can be a subtle weight that becomes so innate you hardly notice it, until it falls off and it feels as though you’re missing an anchor.
Photo provided by Hannah Doran for The Student