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Preisdatenbank abonnieren"A collection of gentleman`s dress studs comprising a set of seven in 9ct white gold set with diamond chip within engine turned designs, a black onyx set with pearl coloured inserts (7 pieces), a yellow metal three stud set having cultured pearls and a 9ct gold set stamped 375 of eight pieces (not a matching set) "
A fine Arctic exploration group of three awarded to Engine-Room Artificer Robert Joiner, Royal Navy, who took part in two sledging expeditions in support of the Northern Division in April and May 1876 Ashantee 1873-74, no clasp (R. Joiner, Lg. Stoker, H.M.S. Barracouta, 73-74); Arctic Medal 1875-76 (R. Joiner. Lg. Stoker. H.M.S. Alert); Royal Navy L.S. & G.C., V.R., narrow suspension (Robt. Joiner. Eng. Room Artif. H.M.S. Alert) impressed naming, good very fine (3) £3500-4000 Robert Joiner was born at Fittleworth, Sussex, on 26 September 1840. He joined the Royal Navy on 21 October 1854, as a Boy 2nd Class aboard H.M.S. Victory. As a Leading Stoker he served aboard Barracouta during the Ashantee war of 1873-74, and aboard H.M.S. Alert in the Arctic Expedition of 1875-76. He was a member of the Alexandra sledge party under Engineer George White, R.N., which left Alert on 3 April 1876 for Cape Joseph Henry in support of the Northern Division and returned on 14 April. On 11 May he left with the Sultan ladder sledge, under Engineer James Wootton, R.N., with a depot of one week’s provisions for the Northern Party, returning to Alert on 20 May. Both sledges are noted as having performed other services. Advanced to Engine Room Artificer in August 1878 whilst serving in Alert, he received his L.S. & G.C. medal on 30 April 1879. Sold with copy service record.
Three: Lieutenant Hubert Alan Churchward, Royal Flying Corps, late 2nd County of London (Westminster Dragoons) Yeomanry, killed in action, 16 August 1917 1914-15 Star (2 Lieut., 2/Co. of Lond. Y.); British War and Victory Medals (Lieut.); Memorial Plaque (Hubert Alan Churchward) extremely fine (4) £350-450 Hubert Alan Churchward was born in Aldershot on 25 November 1891 and was educated privately and at Corpus Christi, Cambridge. He joined the 2nd County of London Yeomanry in September 1914, having formerly served in the West Kent Yeomanry and the King Edward’s Horse. Attaining the rank of Sergeant with the County of London Yeomanry in October 1914, he was discharged to a commission in the regiment on 20 May 1915. He entered the Gallipoli theatre of war on 16 October 1915. Later serving as a Pilot with No. 9 Squadron, Royal Flying Corps, he was killed in action over France on 16 August 1917, aged 25 years. A letter to his father, The Rev. M. W. Churchward, Assistant Chaplain-General, London District, from his C.O., No. 9 Squadron, dated 31 August 1917 reads - ‘I cannot hold out any hope as to his fate. He went out on the 16th with 2nd Ltt. Ward as his observer on artillery observation about midday. About an hour later he rang me up on the phone from another aerodrome saying that his engine had given trouble and that he would go up as soon as it was put right. He left at about 3 pm. and about 5 pm. another observer saw a R.E.8 go down out of control the other side. He thought it had been hit by anti-aircraft fire. I can find out nothing further. I am very much afraid it looks as if he had been killed instantaneously or stunned by a splinter and had gone down out of control, falling from 5000 feet about. I am afraid there is very little hope ....’ Having no known grave, Lieutenant Churchward’s name is commemorated on the Arras Flying Services Memorial. Sold with the recipient’s original commission document appointing him a 2nd Lieutenant in the 2nd County of London (Westminster Dragoons) Yeomanry. Also with a quantity of copied service papers.
The well-documented and remarkable Second World War M.B.E., Great War M.C. and Bar, D.F.C. group of nine awarded to Wing Commander J. H. Norton, Royal Canadian Air Force, late Essex Yeomanry, Royal Flying Corps and Royal Air Force, whose published account of his experiences in the Palestine campaign 1917-18 include frequent mention of personal encounters with Lawrence of Arabia - among them the occasion he flew the great man to a desert rendezvous and his direct part in one of his classic “Train Wrecking” operations The Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, M.B.E. (Military) Member’s 2nd type breast badge; Military Cross, G.V.R., with Second Award Bar, the reverse privately engraved, ‘Capt. John Hamilton Norton, France 1917, Bar Palestine 1918’; Distinguished Flying Cross, G.V.R., the reverse privately engraved, ‘Flight Lieut. John Hamilton Norton, Palestine 1918’; British War and Victory Medals, M.I.D. oakleaf (Capt. J. H. Norton, R.A.F.); Territorial Force War Medal 1914-19 (1105 Pte. J. H. Norton, Essex Yeo.); Defence Medal 1939-45, silver; Canadian Voluntary Service Medal 1939-45, with overseas clasp; War Medal 1939-45, M.I.D. oakleaf, silver, generally good very fine (9) £25000-30000 M.B.E. London Gazette 1 January 1946. M.C. London Gazette 26 May 1917: ‘For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty. He reconnoitred the enemy’s wire at the height of 300 feet, and brought back most valuable information. He has at all times displayed great courage and skill.’ Bar to M.C. London Gazette 22 April 1918: ‘For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty. While he was carrying out observation for an important artillery shoot, two hostile aeroplanes endeavoured to interfere. These he at once attacked and drove off, afterwards continuing his observation for the shoot, during which two hostile emplacements were destroyed. His dash and determination contributed greatly to the success of the operation.’ D.F.C. London Gazette 8 February 1919: ‘On all occasions this officer displays gallantry and devotion to duty, notably on 29 July, when, in co-operation with our artillery, he carried out a shoot against two anti-aircraft pits. On approaching this target Captain Norton was wounded in the left foot; notwithstanding this, he continued the shoot, and succeeded in destroying both pits, thereby putting out of action two hostile guns.’ John Hamilton “Jocko” Norton was born in Southend, Essex in October 1896 and, after leaving school, was employed as an insurance broker at Lloyds of London. Enlisting in the Essex Yeomanry as a Trooper in August 1914, he was commissioned in the Reserve Regiment of Cavalry, via the Special List, that November, but remained employed in the U.K. until transferring to the Royal Flying Corps and gaining his Royal Aero Club Certificate in February 1916. France Posted to No. 12 Squadron out in France in July of the same year, he completed around 80 operational sorties before being transferred to No. 13 Squadron in March 1917, Army co-operation work that comprised bombing raids and spotting for the artillery, in addition to photography, and hazardous work, too, as evidenced by the following extracts taken from his Flying Log Book: 28 July 1916 - an attack on a bridge in the Somme region: ‘Bombs fell near railway track. A.A. very good. Lt. Watkins caught fire from direct hit. Own fuselage badly shot.’ 29 August 1916: ‘Bombed Bois de Loupart. Attacked by hostile machine - two rounds through cockpit, one through coat. Forced landing. Ran into telephone pole. Crashed machine’s wings dismantled.’ 15 September 1916: ‘Bombed Bapaume. Squadron came down to 500 feet. Tyson hit. Archie and Onions very bad. 20 hostile machines. Recrossed at 1000.’ 17 September 1916: ‘Bombed Marcoing station. Blew up large ammunition dump on railway line. Formation attacked south of Cambrai by about 40 hostile machines. Honey and Patterson lost. Four F.Es lost from escort.’ In March 1917, Norton transferred to No. 13 Squadron as a Flight Commander, which appointment quickly led to the award of his first M.C. for gallant work during the battle of Arras in the following month, namely the above cited low-level mission of which his Flying Log Book states: 7 April 1917: ‘Wire reconnaissance. Examined wire from 200-400 feet four miles behind line. Engine and machine badly hit by M.G. fire - awarded Military Cross.’ Just a couple of days later, on the 9th, his BE2e was hit by shellfire and he was compelled to make a crash-landing, though he and his Observer, Captain T. L. Tibbs, emerged unscathed from the wreckage. While on the 28th, during a contact patrol, his aircraft was attacked by five enemy machines, the resultant damage causing another rapid descent. But pilot and Observer once more emerged unscathed, Norton in fact going on to complete around 60 operational sorties before being ordered back to the U.K. to take up appointment as an instructor at the Central Flying School at Upavon in June. Palestine A brief home appointment in No. 62 Squadron having followed in August-September 1917, Norton was next posted to the Middle East, where he joined No. 113 Squadron in Palestine, a component, in common with No. 14 Squadron, of 5th Corps Wing. Moreover, his name appeared on a list of pilots attached to the following Routine Order: `The following officers are detached for special duty and will proceed immediately to headquarters of the Arab forces near Akabah. All officers upon arrival will report to Colonel T. E. Lawrence, or his representatives in Akabah, attached to the headquarters of Shereef Feisal, and will remain under their orders during forthcoming operations.` Thus ensued a memorable chapter in his active service career, a chapter described at length in a series of articles that were subsequently published in The Liberty magazine in America in 1934 - ‘I Flew Lawrence in War-Crazed Arabia, by Captain John H. Norton, as told by J. B. L. Lawrence’. As a result of lacking dates it would be difficult to corroborate these articles against his Flying Log Book, but the following extracts are illustrative of his encounters with Lawrence: On arrival at Lawrence’s Headquarters near Akabah ‘Lawrence came among us and greeted us heartily. I was to learn later that he never shook hands and hated to be touched in any way. Another amazing thing about the man that I noted from the first was that he never looked any one in the face. Instead he stared at one`s shoes intently .... I watched Lawrence carefully. His face interested me. It seemed to change with every word he spoke. It was the most mobile face I have ever seen. He couldn`t have been more than 27 or 28, yet I felt the force and strength of personality that I was to see accomplish so much later. His bluish-grey eyes, rather deeply set, reflected humour and at the same time were strangely hard. They seemed almost held in place by his unusually high cheek bones.` Under Lawrence’s watchful eye at a formal dinner with Feisal `The sheik beside me suddenly turned to me and grunted happily. Then he thrust in his fist and brought out the smoking liver. He handed it to me. I had my hands full. But a quick glance from Lawrence and a slight nod told me that I must not refuse. It was a gesture of friendliness. I took the liver and jammed it down my throat. It was no hard task - I was so hungry! Lawrence kept looking at me and signified by smacking his lips that I was to show pleasure at the gift. I smacked my lips and grunted. It pleased the sheikh so much that he offered me another bit and another ....` Piloting Lawrence and a “Train Wrecking” Mission ‘I was ready and waiting at dawn the next morning. During the night an army lorry had brought two little wooden boxes from the railway station for Lawrence, and he had thes
A Great War D.S.M. group of three awarded to Engine Room Artificer T. Fowler, Royal Navy Distinguished Service Medal, G.V.R. (M13830 E.R.A. 4Cl. “Grasshopper” 1918); British War and Victory Medals (M.13830 E.R.A.3, R.N.) fine (3) £600-800 D.S.M. London Gazette 11 December 1918. ‘.... for services in other destroyers between 1st January and 30th June 1918’. Thomas Fowler was born in Birkenhead, Cheshire, on 16 January 1870. An Engine Fitter by occupation, he enlisted into the Royal Navy as an Acting Engine Room Artificer 4th Class on 15 June 1915. After service at Pembroke II, he was posted to Conquest, March 1916-September 1917, being confirmed in his rank in April 1917. After a further spell at Pembroke II, he was posted to the destroyer Grasshopper and the depot ship Hecla, October 1917-May 1918 and thence on the same destroyer and the depot ship Apollo until August 1918, being advanced to E.R.A. Class 3 in May 1918. He was then posted to Pembroke but in October 1918 was sentenced at the Chester Assizes to three months imprisonment for attempted murder. Fowler was demobilised in April 1919. For his service aboard the destroyer Grasshopper, 1 January-30 June 1918, he was awarded the D.S.M. On 5 February 1918 the Grasshopper assisted in the rescue of survivors from the S.S. Tuscania. The ship was torpedoed by the UB-77 whilst carrying U.S. troops from New York to Liverpool. At the time of her loss she was carrying 2,235 persons of which 166 were lost. With copied service paper and some additional research.
A fine Second World War C.B.E. and Lloyd’s Bravery Medal pair awarded to Captain Charles Fox for gallantry on the occasion of the sinking of the S.S. Orcades by the U-172 in October 1942; as Master of the ship he was the last to leave as she sank three hours after the first attack The Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, C.B.E. (Civil) Commander’s 2nd type neck badge, silver-gilt and enamels, complete with full neck cravat in its Garrard & Co case of issue; Lloyd’s War Medal for Bravery at Sea (Captain Charles Fox, S.S. “Orcades”, 10th October 1942) in its original gilt embossed case of issue, extremely fine (2) £1200-1500 C.B.E. London Gazette 2 March 1943: ‘For services when the ship was torpedoed and sunk.’ ‘The ship, sailing alone, was torpedoed. At the time a moderate gale was blowing and the sea was rough with a very heavy swell. Later the ship was again torpedoed, and the Master [Fox] decided to get away the passengers and the majority of the crew in the boats. Those remaining on board made valiant efforts to save the ship but they were frustrated by further attacks and she finally sank about three hours after the first attack. As the ship was sinking, the Master and the crew remaining on board abandoned her. In his determined efforts to save his ship, the Master showed great courage and leadership of a high order. He was the last to leave and assisted two men to saftey when swimming towards a raft.’ Lloyd’s War Medal Lloyd’s List & Shipping Gazette 14 October 1943: published with a condensed version of the above official citation. The S.S. Orcades, of the Orient Steam Navigation Company, was torpedoed by U-172 and sunk in the South Atlantic on 10 October 1942. The following account is given in David Masters’ In Peril on the Sea: ‘The liner Orcades with 711 passengers and 354 officers and crew was steaming alone at speed in a moderate gale with rough seas and a heavy swell when a U-boat caught her on October 10, 1942. It did not take Captain C. Fox long to find out that she was badly holed. The possibility of keeping her afloat was so uncertain that it was essential to get the passengers into the boats without delay. The order sent the crew to their boat stations at the double and the operation began to go like clockwork. It was plain from the way the men worked under the supervision of the Boatswain, J. Murphy, and the quiet orders of the Chief Officer, R. J. Craddock, that the boat drill had not been wasted on them. In the most orderly manner the passengers were passed into the boats which were quickly and safely launched upon the rough seas. The engineers still remained at their posts in the engine-room while Captain Fox sought to find out the full extent of the damage. He was keen to keep the Orcades afloat. Having embarked his passengers in safety, Captain Fox and his chosen men strove to save the liner. They had no chance. The U-boat saw to that. After striving for three hours to keep her afloat, the Master gave the order to abandon ship and the men jumped overboard to the rafts. The last to leave as she was sliding under was Captain Fox who, seeing two men in trouble as he was swimming towards a raft, helped them both to safety. Over a thousand human beings were left tossing about on rough seas in lifeboats and rafts in the middle of the ocean. They had escaped from the sinking ship, but whether they would escape with their lives was still uncertain. Signals had been sent out, but had they been received? If so, how far away was the nearest ship and could she reach them before the storm grew worse and started to take its toll of them? Those were the questions which Captain Zawarda of the Polish ship Narvik hastened to answer as he steamed to the rescue, while the Chief Officer of the Orcades did his best to keep the boats within hailing distance of each other. It was no easy task, for wind and wave are factors over which man has no control, yet his encouraging words permeated through the little fleet of lifeboats and rafts and did much to sustain the spirits of the survivors. For aught Captain Zawarda knew, he was himself steaming to destruction. If the U-boat were still in the area where she had sunk the Orcades, the German commander would certainly do his best to make the Narvik his next target. The risk was one which had to be run and Captain Zawarda accepted it without question. When the Narvik eventually came upon the first boat, the task of snatching up the survivors proved to be very long and difficult owing to the rough seas. Chief Officer Chelminski, however, who took control of the rescue operations, handled them so skilfully that he and his men succeeded in getting them on board safely. Then the search began in earnest, for by now the boats were widely separated. To and fro and round about the Narvik steamed, coming on a boat here, a raft there, stopping to pick up the survivors and succour them when they were on board. Captain Zawarda would not give up. For hour after hour he scoured the mounting seas and the number of survivors on board his ship increased from five hundred to six hundred. He now knew that all the boats had managed to get away. Unless some of them had capsized, there were others still to be accounted for. He held doggedly to his search and the survivors mounted to eight hundred. As the hours went on it crept up to nine hundred. All the time there was the risk that the U-boat which had destroyed the Orcades would come on the scene and attack the Narvik. Captain Zawarda was only too aware of it, but the mission of mercy he was carrying out far outweighed all risks and personal considerations. He would not give up. So long as he believed that any human being was adrift on that inhospitable sea, he was determined to find him. When at length, after a final look round, he was convinced that his self-imposed task was over, he set course for port. That long-sustained rescue operation which lasted twelve hours ranks among the finest rescue operations of the war. Captain Zawarda and his crew saved almost the whole complement of those on board the Orcades when she was sunk. Some of the engine-room staff who jumped into the sea at the last moment did not survive, but of the 1,065 people on board, Captain Zawarda rescued 1,021, for which fine feat he was awarded Lloyd’s War Medal, as was Captain Fox of the Orcades for getting all his passengers off the ship and making such a prolonged and plucky effort to save her.’
An outstanding Second World War Greek operations C.G.M. group of six awarded to Leading Seaman G. R. Fuller, Royal Navy, who, though badly wounded, fought his gun to the last aboard the destroyer H.M.S. Wryneck - nor did he ever complain about his stomach and thigh wounds during the 48-hour open-boat voyage that ensued Conspicuous Gallantry Medal, G.VI.R. (C/JX. 138699 G. R. Fuller, L. Smn., H.M.S. Wryneck); 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; Africa Star; Pacific Star; War Medal 1939-45, nearly extremely fine (6) £8000-10000 C.G.M. London Gazette 11 November 1941: ‘For gallantry and distinguished services in operations in Greek Waters.’ Under which heading, and the award of the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal, appears the name of Leading Seaman G. R. Fuller: ‘Though badly wounded, fought his gun to the last, and when his ship was sunk, heartened the survivors by his courage and cheerfulness.’ George Robert Fuller was decorated for his gallantry on the occasion of the loss of the destroyer H.M.S. Wryneck on 27 April 1941, a day that cost the Navy dearly - H.M.S. Diamond and the transport Slamat being sunk on the same occasion, all three ships having come under sustained enemy air attack while conveying British troops from Greece to Suda Bay: Crete 1941 - The Battle at Sea, by David A. Thomas, takes up the story: ‘The Wryneck, in company with the Diamond, was attacked simultaneously and the pattern of attack upon her closely resembled that made upon the Diamond. Firstly came a raking of the decks with machine-gun and cannon fire, killing and wounding many of the guns’ crews in exposed positions. Secondly, there came the bombing attacks. The first bomb burst near the ship and was followed almost immediately by another explosion close alongside. The destroyer heeled over to port. The stokers’ messdeck forward was shattered and the casualties among the soldiers and the ship’s company were heavy. The Wryneck, like her consort, was also struck in the engine room and she was brought to a standstill, clearly doomed. She filled with water rapidly while the ship was abandoned. In fifteen minutes the destruction was complete. Both destroyers had gone. The Gulf of Nauplia became a scene littered with the grisly flotsam of war at sea.’ As quoted in Greek Tragedy, by Anthony Heckstall-Smith, D.S.C., and Vice-Admiral H. T. Baillie-Grohman, C.B., D.S.O., O.B.E., Fuller was among the few gunners who managed to respond to the enemy attack: ‘Like Diamond, Wryneck’s crew were fooled by the friendly markings on the wings of the fighter that came gliding down out of the sun to sweep her decks with cannon and machine-gun fire. In fact, they were taken so completely by surprise that her 4-inch guns never had a chance to come into action because their crews were all killed or wounded in a matter of seconds. But some of her close-range guns opened up before the alarm sounded on the bridge. And one of them was manned by Leading Seaman Fuller, who after being shot through the belly and thigh, kept on firing until the ship sank under him ... ‘ The Wryneck carried a complement of about 120, of whom seven were officers, including Commander R. H. D. Lane, R.N., and 98 ratings were lost in addition to the soldiers, bringing the total to approximately 950 for both ships. Only around 50 of all services were saved, in itself another chapter of courage and endurance - Greek Tragedy continues: ‘Mr. Waldron [Wryneck’s Warrant Engineer], after floating in his lifebelt for half an hour, was hauled on to a raft. Later, he was taken into Wryneck’s whaler which had been lowered soon after she was hit. Two Carley floats were taken in tow, and the whaler continued on its slow search amongst the debris and the dead and living. Its crew paddled around until both rafts were fully laden and until she had 23 men on board, including a Troop Sergeant-Major of the Gunners and Leading Seaman Fuller. That night, when darkness fell, Waldron, Fuller and Gordine and 49 sailors, together with eight soldiers were all who had survived the three ships ... Wryneck’s whaler leaked badly. For a time, the men in her took it in turns to sit on the holes made by the bomb splinters and the machine-gun bullets, while others baled her out with a tin hat. But when they had finished their search for survivors, Mr. Waldron set them to work patching the holes with a half a bar of soap and some scraps of wood. Throughout the whole afternoon of Sunday, 27 April, those who had strength enough pulled slowly on the four oars. Paddling and drifting, with the two Carley floats laden with men in tow, the whaler made its way roughly eastwards. Only very roughly, for the compass had been smashed by a cannon shell. It was hot, thirsty work rowing the heavy, water-logged boat, but there was only a damaged keg half filled with contaminated water for the 23 men. There were also two tins of biscuits, a case of bully beef, a box of Verey pistols and cartridges, and a boat’s ensign. The wind freshened considerably towards dusk and the sea rose with the wind. And as it rose, it kept picking up the Carley floats and hurling them against the whaler so that they were in danger of wrecking one another. Just before dark, Mr. Waldron was forced to cast the floats adrift for they were threatening to sink the whaler. At 2.30 the next morning, the two rafts with their 50 men were picked up by Griffin, which had been sent out from Suda in search of them. But the Griffin did not find the whaler. During the night, the wind blew hard from the west, and since there was no material from which to make a sea anchor, Waldron turned her stern to sea. The weary sailors kept enough way on her with the oars to prevent her broaching to. Then, Waldron picked a suitable star down wind, and managed to steer by it. But the weather worsened and she shipped so much water that the men worked in shifts baling her out. They were soaked to the skin and bitterly cold for most of them were wearing only their singlets and trousers. Waldron kept waking them up to take turns on the oars. Between times, they huddled together and slapped one another to keep their circulation going. For most of the night Waldron sat at the tiller or beside the coxswain with the seas and spray breaking over him as he conned the whaler by the stars. And all the time he kept Fuller warm by the heat of his own body, for Fuller had lost a lot of blood from the wounds in his belly and thigh, and was trembling with the cold. When the dawn broke, Waldron thought he recognised the hump of Milos Island against the pale sky. Although he reckoned it must be 30 miles away, he shaped course for it. Some time after sunrise, they sighted an Ajax class cruiser heading south at full speed in company with a destroyer. They fired Verey lights, flashed the lid of a tin in the sun, and waved the ensign. But the ships did not see them, and their disappointment was bitter as they watched the two ships disappear over the horizon. Later, they saw two more destroyers and three Blenheims, but they, too, failed to see the signals. Fortunately for them, several Stukas and Ju. 88s were equally unsuccessful at spotting them. During the morning, they were cheered a little when they retrieved an orange from the sea. Dividing it, they shared it amongst them to augment their meagre ration of bad water. At noon, the whaler appeared to be closing a small rocky island. And since it needed by a slight alteration of course to steer directly for it, Waldron told his men that he had made up his mind to make for it. They were all nearing the point of exhaustion, and, although he never complained, Fuller had grown so weak that Waldron doubted that he would survive another night at sea. As the whaler approached a small cove in the island at about four o’clock, they saw a caique lying at anchor, and a little group of people, standing on a narro
Ashantee 1873-74, 1 clasp, Coomassie (Lt. E. S. Evans, R.N., H.M.S. Active, 73-74) suspension neatly re-fixed, otherwise very fine £600-800 118 clasps issued to H.M.S. Active. Edward Seymour Evans was born on 10 January 1844, and joined the Royal Navy as a Cadet on 4 December 1858. He landed during the first phase of the Ashantee War and was present at Abrakampa. Afterwards he commanded the 4th company Naval Brigade during the Ashantee campaign of 1874 and was present in every action and skirmish, concluding with the occupation of Coomassie (Mentioned in despatches; Medal with Clasp). Evans had been senior Lieutenant of H.M.S. Megaera in February 1871 when his ship became involved in a scandalous shipwreck in June of that year. The careers of some ships seem to be nothing but misfortune or even disaster. H.M.S. Megaera was one such. She was built in 1849 as one of the Royal Navy`s first iron-hulled warships, but even before her launching the admiralty ordered her to be converted to a troopship. As soon as she set sail an engine crank broke and she was towed back to the dockyard; her maiden voyage was a disaster in which she was nearly lost in a storm ... and so it went on: de-rated to a store-ship and finally placed in reserve. There she might have rotted away quietly and been forgotten, if the admiralty hadn`t suddenly decided to send her, of all ships, on the voyage round The Cape to Australia with 300 souls on board. It was her final voyage, for she was completely unseaworthy, with her bottom plates rusted through. She was beached on St. Paul, a tiny volcanic island in the Indian Ocean, where her crew survived for nearly three months before being rescued. Evans retired as a Commander in January 1889 and died on 20 March 1920. The medal is sold with a quantity of research including contemporary articles from the Illustrated London News and Blackwood`s Magazine, reports of the subsequent Court Martial of the Megaera shipwreck, despatches and reports mentioning Lieut. Evans during the Ashantee campaign.
A Victorian silver baluster coffee pot by Robert Garrard, London 1859, incuse stamp for Garrards, engine turned overall, with an ivory finial and double scroll handle, the body with a circular cartouche engraved with a crest and a monogram ‘JFR’, 24cm (91/2 in) high, 775g (24.95 oz). The crest unidentified. **condition report: Marks clear although rubbed to top surface, hinge in good order with very minor side ways movement, handle tight and no signs of repair, engraving to spout slight rubbed up front edge, discoloured cracks to ivory mounts, finial loose, very shallow dent to body below engraved cartouche
A late 18th century French two colour gold, tortoiseshell and lacquer oval snuff box, maker’s mark ‘LV’?, Paris charge and discharge marks (indistinct), the cover and base with an urn in a oblong reserve, on an engine turned ground, a foliate thumb piece, the sides with further urns and engine turning, 6.3cm (21/2 in) wide (the hinge mounts replaced)
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