The magic of Fabergé

The famous Fabergé egg has intrigued and beguiled the world since the 19th century. And, while owning one is mere fairy tale for most, intricate miniature egg pendants offer a more attainable way to appreciate the craftsmanship and wonder of the Russian jeweller, says Emma Longstaff

- Emma Longstaff

In 1894, when Nicholas II became Tsar of Russia, he was the wealthiest man on the planet. Worth 240 billion pounds in today's money, he was richer than any modern-day billionaire. Unsurprisingly, the Russian royal family spent lavishly, and were served by several official court jewellers. But names like Hahn, Ovchinnikov and Bolin have been largely forgotten. Only one court jeweller - the House of Fabergé - has achieved longevity, becoming a byword for absolute luxury.

Founded in St Petersburg in 1842 by Gustav Fabergé, the firm rose to prominence under the directorship of his son, Peter Carl Fabergé. Kieran McCarthy, director of Wartski, the London-based firm which specialises in the work of Fabergé, explains why he came to eclipse his competitors: 'Carl Fabergé's genius was that he understood the desires and interests of his patrons. These were very wealthy, very spoiled people who could have the absolute best of anything they wanted. They already had fabulous jewellery. It didn't really excite them. But the skill, quality and ingenuity of Fabergé's designs sent shivers down the spine. Each was unique, like a work of art. His patrons recognised Fabergé as the greatest craftsman of his generation.'

The renowned Imperial eggs have also fuelled Fabergé's legendary status. At Easter an important occasion in the Orthodox religious calendar - even the poorest peasants exchanged painted or wooden eggs. In 1885, Tsar Alexander III commissioned Fabergé to create a special Easter present for his wife. This first egg followed a design specified by the Tsar - the plain white enamel exterior twisted open to uncover a series of surprises: first a yolk, made of gold, which contained a golden hen with ruby eyes. Hidden inside the hen was a diamond miniature of the Imperial crown, which itself opened to reveal the final surprise: an egg-shaped ruby pendant.