Open an old jewellery box and you often find the same handful of things: a paste brooch, a few pairs of earrings, and then something darker — a strand of carved black beads, a woven plait of hair sealed under glass, a slim gold ring set with a single seed pearl. Pieces like these were worn for mourning, and in the second half of the nineteenth century they were as ordinary as a wedding ring.

Mourning jewellery sits at a useful crossroads for collectors. It is decorative, it is deeply personal, and almost every element on it means something specific. Once you can recognise the materials and read the symbols, the black brooches in a junk-shop tray stop looking identical and start telling you who died, when, and how much the wearer could afford to spend on remembering them.

Why grief became visible

The death of Prince Albert in 1861 set the tone for decades. Queen Victoria wore black for the rest of her life, and a society already fond of ritual took its cue from her. Mourning became a public duty with its own rules: full mourning first, in matte black, followed by half mourning in shades of grey, lavender, purple and white. A widow's black was expected to last a year at the very least, and often far longer. Servants, shop assistants and children all had to fit into the code, which is why so much of this jewellery is modest in price and material.

Fashion had a practical constraint: glossy surfaces were considered too cheerful. Polished gold, bright stones and reflective beads were out. Craftsmen answered with matte black — carved jet, black enamel, onyx, cast iron — and produced it in extraordinary quantities.

Jet, and how to tell it from its rivals

Real jet is fossilised wood, generally from around Whitby in North Yorkshire, where the hard, workable seams of Jurassic material supported a whole industry of carvers. It is surprisingly light, warm against the skin, and polishes to a soft, deep shine. Rub a genuine bead briskly on wool and it will pick up a static charge; it is also carved rather than moulded, so it carries tool marks and subtle irregularities rather than seams.

The usual impostors

Most black Victorian jewellery is not Whitby jet. French jet is black glass — heavier and colder, often with small chipped edges that flash white. Vulcanite, a hardened rubber used from the middle of the century, was pressed into moulds, so look for a seam line around the edge and a duller, slightly rubbery surface. Bog oak is a dull brown-black Irish material used for souvenir brooches and crosses. Gutta-percha and early plastics are lighter than glass and feel faintly greasy or waxy. Dyed resin copies are still made today and are usually too perfect, too even in colour and too light for their size.

Hairwork: sentimental, not sinister

Modern eyes tend to flinch at jewellery made from human hair. The Victorians found it tender rather than macabre. Hair was a keepsake that did not decay, and a lock of it could be plaited into a bracelet, woven on a small table with bobbins into a lacy brooch, wrapped around a wire former, or ground and mixed with paint for a sepia miniature. Pieces often hold more than one person's hair, in different colours, bringing a whole family into a single frame.

Quality varies enormously. Good hairwork is fine and even, with a neat clasp and a reverse engraved with initials and dates. Poor work is lumpy and stiff. Damage usually comes from the mount rather than the hair itself: glue gives way, silk linings perish, and the hair loosens or springs out of shape. Never wet it, never attempt a re-plait, and keep it flat and away from daylight.

Reading the symbols

This is where mourning jewellery becomes a language. Most motifs are drawn from a small, well-thumbed vocabulary:

• Weeping willow — grief, often shading a tomb or urn.
• Urn — the vessel of the body; usually on a plinth.
• Broken column — a life cut short, common for younger deaths.
• Dove — the soul at peace, or ascending.
• Anchor — hope and steadfastness.
• Clasped hands — farewell, or a bond that death has not broken.
• Snake biting its tail — eternity, frequently set with stones spelling a name.
• Ivy and forget-me-nots — fidelity and remembrance.
• Seed pearls — tears; a ring might carry one pearl for a single loss.
• Wheat, oak leaves, acorns — a life gathered at harvest, or strength.
• Black enamel band — mourning proper, often inscribed inside with a name and date.

Look inside rings and brooches before you look at the front. An inscription — "In memory of", a name, a date — turns a generic piece into a documented one, and collectors pay for that.

The other materials worth knowing

Onyx and banded agate were carved into cameos, crosses and mourning brooches, the black layer forming the silhouette. Black enamel over gold gave a sharper, more formal look. Berlin iron — cast iron, blackened and finely detailed — was made in Germany, and its patriotic associations made it fashionable when gold was donated to fund wars. Cut steel and marcasite provided sparkle within the rules. For half mourning, jewellers used amethyst, garnet, grey agate and larger quantities of pearl.

Beware of tortoiseshell and ivory in mourning pieces. Both are restricted in many markets, so check current rules before buying or selling anything that might contain them.

What actually drives value

Dark does not mean dear. Plenty of black jewellery is moulded vulcanite or modern resin, and both are common and inexpensive. The pieces that hold value tend to share several of these qualities: solid gold rather than base metal; hand-carved jet rather than glass or rubber; fine hairwork with an inscription; unusual motifs or a complete suite with its original fitted box; and a documented story, such as a photograph of the wearer or family papers.

Condition matters more than age. Jet chips and crazes, enamel chips at the edges, glass beads crack, and a replaced clasp or pin is normal but should be disclosed. Ask a specialist valuer for a written assessment before you insure or sell anything significant, and treat auction results as a rough guide rather than a price list — two near-identical brooches can differ widely depending on carving and provenance.

Care, buying and a sensible first purchase

1. Handle pieces with clean, dry hands. Skin oils dull jet and cloud enamel.
2. Keep jet away from water and cleaning fluids, which cause it to craze and split. Dust with a soft brush only.
3. Store hairwork flat, out of direct light, in acid-free tissue inside a rigid box.
4. Skip abrasive metal dips. A soft cloth is enough for gold, and dips can strip enamel and loosen stones.
5. Record inscriptions and any family history in writing while you still remember it.

When buying, check the fitting. Victorian pins and clasps were well made, so a loose pin, a blob of modern glue or a suspicious stamp are reasons to pause. Buy from a dealer who will name the material honestly and tell you about repairs. Start with something you would happily wear or display: a simple carved jet brooch, or a ring with a readable inscription, teaches you more than a bargain box of odds and ends ever will.

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