“That’s worth a lot of money,” the woman said as I stood holding a cameo I’d found on a bookshelf at an estate sale in a beautiful stone home that had enough rooms to be a bed-and-breakfast.
I had just paid the woman collecting money in a living room that had practically been stripped, a canvas money belt around her waist. Her face was bedraggled, and she had the overwhelmed look of someone who just wanted it all to end.
The cameo was larger than most I had seen – about 2″ long – with the carved face of a woman atop a sea of coral. The figure wore a silver necklace pendant with a clear stone.
“That looks like a diamond,” the woman continued. “Can I see it?” I foolishly handed it to her, protesting that it was impossible to know for sure if it was a diamond by just glancing at it. “That’s a real diamond,” she said, eyeing the necklace and ignoring me. “It’s worth some money.”
The woman on the sofa looked concerned, wondering if she’d made a mistake. She looked at me questioningly.
“Do you sell diamonds?” I asked the nosy woman. No, she replied, “but I do have a cameo at home.” Have you had it appraised, I asked. “No, but I know what I paid for it,” she said.
“That means nothing,” I replied, fully aware that folks usually believe that what they own is worth more than it actually is. She agreed that I was right, adding, though, that she was going to sell hers for $900.
Good luck, I thought.
I left the house with the cameo in hand, but was curious about how much the cameo was worth. I bought it because I loved the workmanship; this type of jewelry isn’t something I’d wear myself. Just as I was not interested some years ago during a trip to Italy when my tour group, after leaving Pompeii, stopped in a town near Mount Vesuvius to shop for cameos.
I don’t remember if the town was Torre del Greco, which is considered the cameo capital of the world. Italian carvers began making cameos from colored lava from Mount Vesuvius during the early 19th century. (The earliest cameos date back to Egypt in the 3rd century B.C. where they were made of agate and featured the faces of rulers.) The lava was both malleable and inexpensive, and the cameos appealed to European travelers. Later in the century large deposits of coral were found in the area.
One of those also working with cameos during this period was Josiah Wedgwood, a potter and abolitionist in England, who put white jasper-ware figures on a blue ceramic background that became his trademark and bore his name. One of his most famous pieces was an anti-slavery medallion/cameo with a kneeling slave in black against a white background.
Many of the early cameo figures were classical gods and goddesses, which gave way to the anonymous female figure during the Victorian Age. Many were created in the likeness of upper-class European female travelers who took them back home to show off. The Industrial Revolution brought assembly-line production of cameos, and those with lesser means could have their own – not necessarily in their image, though.
When Victorian women started wearing more jewelry in the late 19th century, the cameo habille featuring jewelry was created. Cameos were said to be the most popular jewelry among many women up until the 1940s.
Some of the 19th-century cameos featured blackamoor women, including this ring sold at Bonhams in 2009 and this one said to be made in France. This circa 1860 necklace with four cameo habilles sold for $25,200 at Sotheby’s in 2005. Blackamoors were servants, primarily African men, whose presence go back as far as the 18th century in Europe.
A cameo depicting an African American woman was designed in 1989 by Coreen Simpson after a client asked for one. Made of resin, it was dubbed the Black Cameo and became an instant hit. They were being offered on online retail sites for up to $2,500 and sold for as low as $79.99 on eBay.
My estate-sale cameo was set in a white gold filigree frame with leaves on four sides. It was marked 14K on the clip on the back, and it had a loop that could be raised up to hold a necklace chain or down to be worn as a pin.
I was not sure of its age or its value. I could not find another like it because no two cameos seemed to be alike. Mine was a cameo habille, whose prices on eBay ranged from less than $100 up to more than $1,000 (most in the high range did not sell) and more on retail sites.
One site noted that the value of a cameo depends on the rarity, craftsmanship, and condition. The most common are the portrait cameos; detailed cameos are considered to be more valuable.
Mine was in good condition and appeared to be real based on what I learned about identifying cameos. The nose of the female image was slightly upturned and the hairstyle was upswept – indicative of late 19th century Victorian style. It was in a white gold setting; that alloy wasn’t used until 1920.
The coral shell had a curved back and was translucent. When I held the cameo up to the light I could see the outline of the female figure through the back.
I could see the same on another cameo I had at home that was hidden under a hoard of bangles in a box lot of jewelry. It was much smaller, and traces of white shell could be seen around the edges of the chin and shoulder. The carving was not as refined as the estate cameo.
