The Gold Cup
Last month I finally visited the British Museum for the first time since the British Library moved out to St Pancras. Crossing the forecourt I enjoyed musing on Raffles and Bunny's visit in 'A Jubilee Present' (TV episode 'The Gold Cup').
It’s Raffles’ first visit too, '...since they got the one good portable piece which I believe that they exhibit now. It's a long time since I read of it - I can't remember where - but I know they have got a gold cup of sorts worth several thousands. A number of the immorally rich clubbed together and presented it to the nation; and two of the richly immoral intend to snaffle it for themselves.'
I’d assumed the gold cup was Hornung’s invention, until the moment I found myself right in front of it:
'Why, it's as thin as paper (...) And enamelled like a middle-aged lady of quality! But, by Jove, it's one of the most beautiful things I ever saw in my life, Bunny...'
The thing had a little square case of plate-glass all to itself at one end of the room (...) Underneath were the names of the plutocrats who had subscribed for this national gee-gaw and I fell to wondering where their £8000 came in, while Raffles devoured his twopenny guide-book as greedily as a schoolgirl with a zeal for culture.
'Those are scenes from the martyrdom of St Agnes,' said he, '"translucent on relief ... One of the finest specimens of its kind." I should think it was! Bunny, you Philistine, why can't you admire the thing for it's own sake?'
And (on Raffles' mantelpiece):
'...Look at it; only look at it, man! Was anything ever so rich and yet so chaste? St Agnes must have had a pretty bad time, but it would be almost worth it to go down to posterity in such enamel upon such gold. And then the history of the thing. Do you realize that it's five hundred years old and has belonged to Henry the Eighth and to Elizabeth among others? Bunny, when you have me cremated, you can put my ashes in yonder cup, and lay us in the deep-delved earth together!'
I wasn’t sure until my companion explained that the shelf-mark, 1892.0501.1, contains the date of acquisition, and below that on the label there was a list of the very ‘plutocrats’ who had subscribed to purchase it.
So exciting to have seen the very same object that inspired Hornung, so unexpectedly.
It’s Raffles’ first visit too, '...since they got the one good portable piece which I believe that they exhibit now. It's a long time since I read of it - I can't remember where - but I know they have got a gold cup of sorts worth several thousands. A number of the immorally rich clubbed together and presented it to the nation; and two of the richly immoral intend to snaffle it for themselves.'
I’d assumed the gold cup was Hornung’s invention, until the moment I found myself right in front of it:
'Why, it's as thin as paper (...) And enamelled like a middle-aged lady of quality! But, by Jove, it's one of the most beautiful things I ever saw in my life, Bunny...'
The thing had a little square case of plate-glass all to itself at one end of the room (...) Underneath were the names of the plutocrats who had subscribed for this national gee-gaw and I fell to wondering where their £8000 came in, while Raffles devoured his twopenny guide-book as greedily as a schoolgirl with a zeal for culture.
'Those are scenes from the martyrdom of St Agnes,' said he, '"translucent on relief ... One of the finest specimens of its kind." I should think it was! Bunny, you Philistine, why can't you admire the thing for it's own sake?'
And (on Raffles' mantelpiece):
'...Look at it; only look at it, man! Was anything ever so rich and yet so chaste? St Agnes must have had a pretty bad time, but it would be almost worth it to go down to posterity in such enamel upon such gold. And then the history of the thing. Do you realize that it's five hundred years old and has belonged to Henry the Eighth and to Elizabeth among others? Bunny, when you have me cremated, you can put my ashes in yonder cup, and lay us in the deep-delved earth together!'
I wasn’t sure until my companion explained that the shelf-mark, 1892.0501.1, contains the date of acquisition, and below that on the label there was a list of the very ‘plutocrats’ who had subscribed to purchase it.
So exciting to have seen the very same object that inspired Hornung, so unexpectedly.