ABSTRACT

The idea of royal femininity and that of jewellery appear to be inseparable. A queen stripped of her jewels is no longer identifiable as separate and different from a common mortal. Therein lies one of the factors contributing to the troubles of royalty in late twentieth-century Britain: we all know in our heart of hearts that those who would be queens wear jewels, not tracksuits. Jewels worn about the body have traditionally constituted the most spectacular way of displaying extraordinary wealth while simultaneously disguising capital as artistry. Confronted with someone wearing a diamond parure, notions of aesthetic value fuse with speculations of financial worth. Jewellery signifies, however, in much more complex ways than this simple equation might suggest. Jewels raise issues of the Law, for court societies in Europe have, since earliest times, depended upon gifts of valuable jewellery as the medium of national and international diplomacy. Whereas money changing hands is understood to be a tithe, a levy or a bribe, jewellery made up of precious stones and metals compresses into one object that can be displayed upon an individual body, marks of wealth, of esteem, and of symbolic possession. In the Tudor period, for example, presents given on special occasions and, under Queen Elizabeth I, particularly at the New Year festivities, were a well-established form of levy in anticipation of favours to come. Gifts included clothes and furniture but also notable jewels. 2