Object of the Year 2026

Purchased by Rev. Morice in 1802 for £29 8s, the piano accompanied him through his clerical appointments, including Dagenham and later Ongar Parsonage, Essex. Broadwood’s own records reveal that in July 1812 the instrument was returned for repair and dispatched back to Morice via Nicholls’ wagon from the Three Nuns public house in London—a charming detail that evokes the logistics of early 19th-century life. When Morice became Vicar of Ashwell in 1812, the piano eventually moved with him to the newly built Vicarage in 1814.

After passing through auction and returning to Broadwood’s care, the piano was generously donated to our museum in 2025. Its mahogany case with satinwood banding remains in excellent condition, though the interior mechanism is fragile and unrestored. Expert conservator Lucy Coad confirmed that making it playable would compromise its originality, so it is preserved as a rare and authentic example of its type.

This instrument is more than a piece of furniture—it is a witness to family music-making, craftsmanship, and the cultural aspirations of its time. Visitors can explore its story and even hear how similar pianos sounded via QR-linked recordings, bringing the music of Morice’s era to life.

Lancaster’s fundraising efforts, such as this appeal, enabled him to create the first widespread school system using the Monitorial method, where older pupils taught younger ones. His schools were revolutionary, introducing the “Three R’s” curriculum—Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic—at a time when many believed working-class children needed only to read the Bible.

Perhaps most strikingly, Lancaster’s schools were non-denominational. While scripture was taught, it was done “without anything like sectarian influences,” creating an open and inclusive system where children of all faiths could learn together. Lancaster also established the first professional teacher training colleges, attracting students from around the world.

Recently added to our collection, this handbill is a rare piece of evidence from a turning point in history. Everyday documents like this are often lost, yet they offer a unique window into the origins of education as a universal right—a principle we take for granted today.

Christopher’s exact arrival date at the Abbey is unknown, but his presence spans centuries of change. He witnessed the Abbey’s decline, its Victorian restoration, and its elevation to Cathedral status in 1877. Today, he remains a symbol of continuity and compassion, reflecting the Cathedral’s enduring mission to care for the underprivileged.

Due to his fragile condition, Christopher is housed in a purpose-built storage box in the Archives. A replica stands in the Cathedral, while the original is brought out for special occasions—educating schoolchildren about the Reformation, starring in exhibitions, and greeting archive visitors.

More than a figure, Christopher is a storyteller. He embodies five centuries of faith, charity, and community life, and continues to welcome all with his jovial presence.

Paul Mellows served with distinction in the RAF, flying Mosquito aircraft on daring missions across Europe. The bear accompanied him on 50 operations, including the final mission where Mellows shot down an Me110 and destroyed a V1 flying bomb. On landing, he discovered the aircraft’s rudder and fuselage had been badly damaged by enemy fire. For his courage, Mellows was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

Paul proposed to Jean Wills during the summer of 1944, and the bear became a symbol of their bond. After the war, Paul and Jean married in 1946. Today, the bear is more than a mascot—it is a witness to bravery, love, and resilience.

The Jean Wills Bear has been shown to many school groups and featured in exhibitions, including the 85th anniversary celebrations of the Mosquito’s first flight. A small bear with an extraordinary history.

The Inter Works Sports League was established in 1912, giving local factory workers the chance to compete in regular sporting contests representing the industries where they worked. Rival firms battled for supremacy on the hockey pitch, tennis court, and bowling green. There are even stories of companies hiring employees for their sporting ability to gain an edge!

For much of the 20th century, many people had a “job for life,” with children often following parents into the same workplace. This fostered strong camaraderie and deep ties to the local community. Sport was a vital part of that culture, and trophies like this one celebrated teamwork and pride.

We hold dozens of trophies from the Inter Works Sports League—but only one intense, stylish bowls guy! A small figure with a big personality, he captures the spirit of competition and the unique character of Letchworth’s industrial sporting heritage.

As a boy, Cameron treasured Teddy as a playmate and comfort. That boy grew up to become Governor of the Bank of England and later Lord Chamberlain to Queen Elizabeth II, yet Teddy remained a cherished reminder of simpler times. After Cameron’s death, Teddy was carefully packed away with his belongings—still dressed warmly for the long wait.

In 2025, archivists exploring the attic discovered a box of Cameron’s most personal possessions. Inside, staring up with worn but friendly eyes, was Teddy—a bear full of history and wonder. Checked over by experts, Teddy now sits proudly on his favourite chair in the Hampden Room at Knebworth House, admired by thousands of visitors.

Teddy is more than a toy. He is a symbol of love, loyalty, and the stories objects can hold—a small bear who shared a lifetime of adventures and now continues to delight all who meet him.

You can’t visit the museum without opening up the wooden insect cases which house the Siphonaptera and looking through the magnifier at the dressed fleas or pulgas vestidas. Charles Rothschild, the brother of Walter who founded the museum brought them home from Mexico in about 1905. At the time they were curiosities, handmade as a form of folk art and sold to tourists. According to the label, these fleas were dressed by a woman who worked on them during the evenings after her children had caught them off dogs and cats during the daytime!

In the fourth century, her role changed. When a family faced the heartbreak of losing their 18-month-old child, they placed this figure in the grave—a final act of care. By including Dea Nutrix, they ensured their little one would not go hungry or be alone in the afterlife.

More than an archaeological find, she is a poignant reminder of enduring love. Across 1,600 years, this simple object speaks of parents’ hopes and grief, their desire to provide comfort even after saying goodbye. Today, she stands as a testament to humanity’s timeless need to nurture and protect.

The Wolf Head was likely held aloft by “Akela,” the Cub Scout leader, symbolizing the pack’s alpha wolf. Totem heads like this were popular in Cub packs during the 1920s–1950s. Their purpose was both symbolic and ceremonial: to reinforce unity, encourage spirited participation, and cement the Scout Promise.

Now displayed at Redbourn Village Museum, this striking artefact reminds us of generations of Cub Scouts in Britain, and particularly Hertfordshire, who began their meetings with hope, energy, and a collective vow to “do their best.”

The Crow held a higher status than many alehouses of its time, yet its history was not without drama. In 1797, after drinking a quart of gin, Elizabeth Pruden stole a pair of pattens (overshoes) from the Crow and was sentenced to seven years’ transportation. In 1806, James Whitby was beaten by John Bocket after catching him stealing from their shared room—common practice when travellers lodged in inns.

The Crow finally closed in 1914, a casualty of the temperance movement and changing drinking habits that made many pubs economically unsustainable.

Now displayed in our exhibition “Inns and Alehouses of St Albans,” this sign tells a story of hospitality, crime, and community life. It stands as a rare survivor from a time when pubs were at the heart of local society—long before their decline reshaped the city’s social landscape.

What makes this tankard even more special is the inscription on its base, which marks a major milestone in Stevenage’s own story: the construction of the 1,000th ‘Mowlem’ house in the town. Mowlem was one of the key building firms involved in creating homes for Stevenage’s growing population during its development as Britain’s first New Town after World War II.

As Stevenage celebrates its 80th anniversary in 2026, this object connects two significant narratives—the pride of a national sporting triumph and the optimism of post-war urban planning. It reminds us of a time when communities were being built and hopes were high, both on the football pitch and in the streets of Stevenage.

For over 50 years, Jack was deeply involved with the Tring Scouts, serving as both Scout Master and District Commissioner. His leadership helped shape generations of young people, fostering values of teamwork, resilience, and outdoor adventure. This hat, worn proudly in a 1948 group photograph, is a tangible link to that era of community spirit and dedication.

The hat was generously donated to the museum by the current Tring Scout group during a recent visit. Today, it forms part of a special display showcasing hats worn by significant local figures—each telling its own story of service and identity.

The lively foreground features hounds, peacocks, deer, and horses, reflecting the grandeur and vitality of the estate. Turner’s delicate handling of light and colour captures both the architectural elegance and the natural beauty of Cassiobury at its height.

The Museum of Watford acquired this work in 1984 from Thomas Agnew & Sons, supported by generous grants. At the time, the museum had only recently opened in 1981, making this a bold and significant acquisition for such a young institution.

Today, the painting serves as a poignant reminder of the great house that once stood where Cassiobury Park now welcomes visitors. With many Cassiobury objects and artworks dispersed across North America, this Turner remains an important link to the estate’s rich history.