The colour palette and the copious use of pearls suggest that this musical box was made for the Turkish market.

The feathered bird in this box remains static while the mechanical music plays, unlike those in singing bird boxes that flutter their wings and turn their heads as they chirp. The delight in watching these singing bird automata play was part of a long tradition of the Ottoman Turkish court enjoying mechanical marvels made in Europe. In the sixteenth century, in a bid to secure peace, the Holy Roman Emperors sent annually to the Sublime Porte a large sum of money, together with silver and clocks, the latter often incorporating automata and mechanical music. Diplomats in Constantinople reported how favourably these were received at court. Even though such masterpieces were equally admired in European courts, some envoys could not resist making patronising comments. Freiherr Hans Ludwig von Kuefstein (1582–1656), in a report on an audience that took place on 2 December 1628, recorded that the sultan’s dwarf had asked whether the dog automaton could strike the hour as well as move its eyes. This question led Kuefstein to opine ‘this shows that this modest and childish piece of work was dear and unusual to them’.

That in the nineteenth century Europeans believed such mechanical works continued to enchant the denizens of the Levant is perhaps shown by Lord Byron’s purchase of ‘Gold & Enameld [sic] Musical Box – with figures Sett [sic] with pearls & _’ on 12 July 1813, which, with other items, he intended to use ‘as presents for some of my Mussulman acquaintance’ for a tour of Turkey he was then planning.

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