The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Books About Old Furniture. Volume II. The Period of Queen Anne, by J. P. Blake and A. E. Reveirs-Hopkins This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Little Books About Old Furniture. Volume II. The Period of Queen Anne Author: J. P. Blake A. E. Reveirs-Hopkins Release Date: September 23, 2013 [EBook #43805] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD FURNITURE, VOL II *** Produced by Chris Curnow, Sue Fleming and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net LITTLE BOOKS ABOUT OLD FURNITURE II. QUEEN ANNE LITTLE BOOKS ABOUT OLD FURNITURE Uniformly bound, Crown 8vo Price 2s 6d net each I. TUDOR TO STUART II. QUEEN ANNE III. CHIPPENDALE AND HIS SCHOOL IV. THE SHERATON PERIOD LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN 21 Bedford Street, W.C. QUEEN ANNE WALNUT TALLBOY AND STOOL (Early Eighteenth Century) LITTLE BOOKS ABOUT OLD FURNITURE ENGLISH FURNITURE: BY J. P. BLAKE & A. E. REVEIRS-HOPKINS. VOLUME II THE PERIOD OF QUEEN ANNE ILLUSTRATED LONDON MCMXIV WILLIAM HEINEMANN First published October 1911 New Edition January 1913 Second Impression June 1914 Copyright London 1911 by William Heinemann INTRODUCTION The sovereigns of England, unlike those of France, have seldom taken to themselves the task of acting as patrons of the fine arts. Therefore when we write of the "Queen Anne period" we do not refer to the influence of the undistinguished lady who for twelve years occupied the throne of England. The term is merely convenient for the purpose of classification, embracing, as it does, the period from William and Mary to George I. during which the furniture had a strong family likeness and shows a development very much on the same line. The change, at the last quarter of the seventeenth century, from the Jacobean models to the Dutch, was probably the most important change that has come over English furniture. It was a change which strongly influenced Chippendale and his school, and remains with us to this day. The period from William and Mary to George I. covered nearly forty years, during which the fashionable furniture was generally made from walnut-wood. No doubt walnut was used before the time of William and Mary, notably in the making of the well-known Stuart chairs with their caned backs and seats, but it did not come into general use until the time of William. It continued in fashion until the discovery of its liability to the attacks of the worm, combined with the advent of mahogany, removed it from public favour. Walnut nevertheless remains a beautiful and interesting wood, and in the old examples the colour effects are probably unsurpassed in English furniture. Its liability to "worming" is probably exaggerated, and in the event of an attack generally yields to a treatment with paraffin. Certainly the furniture of what is termed the "Queen Anne period" is in great request at the present day, and as the period was so short during which it was made, the supply is necessarily limited. We referred in the introduction to the first volume to the fact that the present series does not in any sense pretend to exhaust what is practically an inexhaustible subject. The series is merely intended to act as an introduction to the study of old English furniture, and to provide handbooks for collectors of moderate means. The many admirable books which have been already written on this subject seem to appeal mostly to persons who start collecting with that useful but not indispensable asset—a large income. In the present volume, although rare and expensive pieces are shown for historical reasons and to suggest standards of taste, a large number of interesting examples are also shown and described which are within the reach of persons of moderate incomes, and frequently an approximate price at which they should be acquired is indicated. In collecting the photographs necessary for this volume we are indebted to the Director and Secretary of the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington, London, for placing the various exhibits at our disposal and particularly for causing a number of new exhibits to be specially photographed. However good a photograph may be, it can only be a ghost of the original, which should always, if possible, be examined. We would therefore strongly recommend readers when possible to examine the museum objects for themselves. The South Kensington collection, admirable as it is, is still far from complete, and increased public interest should contribute to its improvement. For the further loan of photographs we are also indebted to Mr. F. W. Phillips, of the Manor House, Hitchin, Herts; to Mr. J. H. Springett, High Street, Rochester, and others to whom we acknowledge our indebtedness in the text. J. P. Blake 21 Bedford Street, W.C. A. E. Reveirs-Hopkins TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTERS PAGE Introduction Bibliography I. The Queen Anne Period 1 II. Sir Christopher Wren And Grinling Gibbon 18 III. Mirrors, Stools, And Some Notes On A Queen Anne Bedroom 34 IV. Chairs And Tables 47 V. Chests Of Drawers, Tallboys, Cabinets And China Cabinets 65 VI. Secretaires, Bureaux, And Writing-tables 76 VII. Clocks And Clock-cases 82 VIII. Lacquered Furniture 95 Index 177 BIBLIOGRAPHY It is with pleasure we acknowledge our obligations to the following authorities: Percy Macquoid: "The Age of Walnut." (The standard work on the furniture of this period.) J. H. Pollen: "Ancient and Modern Furniture and Woodwork." An admirable little handbook and guide to the furniture and woodwork collection at the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington. F. J. Britten: "Old Clocks and Watches and their Makers." (Exhaustive in its treatment, and fully illustrated. The standard book. A new edition has recently been published.) John Stalker: "Japanning and Varnishing." (The earliest English book on this subject. Published in 1688 during the craze for japanned furniture.) Law: "History of Hampton Court," vol. iii. Ashton: "Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne." Evelyn: "Diary." Macaulay: "History of England." CHAPTER I: THE QUEEN ANNE PERIOD WILLIAM AND MARY, 1689-1702 ANNE, 1702-1714 GEORGE I., 1714-1727 William the Third was a Dutchman and, although he was for thirteen years King of England, he remained a Dutchman until his death. His English was bad, his accent was rough, and his vocabulary limited. He had a Dutch guard, the friends whom he trusted were Dutch, and they were always about him, filling many of the offices of the Royal Household. He came to England as a foreigner and it remained to him a foreign country. His advent to the throne brought about certain changes in the style of furniture which are generally described as "the Dutch influence," which, however, had its origin at least as far back as the reign of Charles II. Both William and Mary were greatly interested in furnishing and furniture. They took up their residence at Hampton Court Palace soon after their coronation, and the place suited William so well and pleased him so much that it was very difficult to get him away from it. William was a great soldier and a great statesman, but he was more at his pleasure in the business of a country house than in the festivities and scandals of a court life, both of which he perhaps equally disliked. The Queen also cordially liked country life, and no less cordially disliked scandal. Mr. Law, in his interesting book on Hampton Court, mentions the story that Mary would check any person attempting to retail scandal by asking whether they had read her favourite sermon—Archbishop Tillotson on Evil Speaking. With the assistance of Sir Christopher Wren as Architect and Grinling Gibbon as Master Sculptor, great changes were made in the Palace at Hampton Court. The fogs and street smells of Whitehall drove William to the pure air of the country, and there was the additional attraction that the country around the palace reminded him in its flatness of his beloved Holland. When one of his Ministers ventured to remonstrate with him on his prolonged absences from London, he answered: "Do you wish to see me dead?" William, perhaps naturally, cared nothing for English tradition: he destroyed the state rooms of Henry VIII. and entrusted to Wren the task of rebuilding the Palace. The architect [1] [2] [3] appears to have had a difficult task, as the King constantly altered the plans as they proceeded, and, it is said, did a good deal towards spoiling the great architect's scheme. In William's favour it must be admitted that he took the blame for the deficiencies and gave Wren the credit for the successes of the building. The result—the attachment of a Renaissance building to a Tudor palace—is more successful than might have been expected. The King's relations with Wren seem to have been of a very friendly sort. Mr. Law mentions the fact that Wren was at this time Grand Master of Freemasons; that he initiated the King into the mysteries of the craft; and that William himself reached the chair and presided over a lodge at Hampton Court Palace whilst it was being completed, which is, in the circumstances, an interesting example of the working rather than the speculative masonry. Mary was herself a model housewife, and filled her Court with wonder that she should labour so many hours each day at her needlework as if for her living. She covered the backs of chairs and couches with her work, which was described as "extremely neat and very well shadowed," although all trace of it has long since disappeared. It is appropriate to observe, as being related to decorative schemes and furnishing, that the taste for Chinese porcelain, which is so general at this day, was first introduced into England by Mary. Evelyn mentions in his diary (June 13, 1693) that he "saw the Queen's rare cabinets and collection of china which was wonderfully rich and plentiful." Macaulay expresses his opinion with his usual frankness. He writes: "Mary had acquired at The Hague a taste for the porcelain of China, and amused herself by forming at Hampton a vast collection of hideous images, and vases upon which houses, trees, bridges, and mandarins were depicted in outrageous defiance of all the laws of perspective. The fashion—a frivolous and inelegant fashion, it must be owned—which was thus set by the amiable Queen spread fast and wide. In a few years almost every great house in the kingdom contained a museum of these grotesque baubles. Even statesmen and generals were not ashamed to be renowned as judges of teapots and dragons; and satirists long continued to repeat that a fine lady valued her mottled green pottery quite as much as she valued her monkey and much more than she valued her husband." It is strange to consider in these days how greatly Macaulay, in this opinion, was out of his reckoning. There is, perhaps, no example of art or handicraft upon which the opinion of cultured taste in all countries is so unanimous as in its admiration for good Chinese porcelain, amongst which the Queen's collection (judging from the pieces still remaining at Hampton) must be classed. Mary was probably the first English queen to intimately concern herself with furniture. We have it on the authority of the Duchess of Marlborough that on the Queen's first visit to the palace she engaged herself "looking into every closet and conveniency, and turning up the quilts upon the beds, as people do when they come into an inn, and with no other concern in her appearance but such as they express." We find in this period lavishly painted ceilings, woodwork carved by Grinling Gibbon and his school, fine needlework, upholstered bedsteads, and marble mantelpieces with diminishing shelves for the display of Delft and Chinese ware. The standard of domestic convenience, in one respect, could not, however, have been very high, if one may judge from the Queen's bathing-closet of this period at Hampton Court Palace. The bath is of marble and recessed into the wall, but it is more like a fountain than a bath, and its use in the latter connection must have been attended by inconveniences which modern women of much humbler station would decline to face.[1] Good specimens of the wood-carving of Grinling Gibbon (born 1648, died 1721) are to be seen at Hampton Court, to which Palace William III. appointed the artist Master Carver. He generally worked in soft woods, such as lime, pear and pine, but sometimes in oak. His subjects were very varied—fruit and foliage, wheat-ears and flowers, cupids and dead game, and even musical instruments—and were fashioned with amazing skill, resource, and ingenuity. He invented that school of English carving which is associated with his name. His fancy is lavish and his finish in this particular work has never been surpassed in this country; but it is doubtful whether his work is not overdone, and as such may not appeal to the purer taste. Often his masses of flowers and foliage too much suggest the unpleasant term which is usually applied to them, viz. "swags." Frequently nothing is left to the imagination in the boldness of his realism. Fig. 1 shows a very happy example of his work over a mantelpiece in one of the smaller rooms in Hampton Court Palace, which is reproduced by the courtesy of the Lord Chamberlain, the copyright being the property of H.M. the King. Upon the shelf are pieces of china belonging to Queen Mary, but the portrait inset is of Queen Caroline, consort of George IV. In the grate is an antique fire-back, and on either side of the fire is a chair of the period of William and Mary. The Court bedsteads (and probably on a smaller scale the bedsteads of the upper classes generally) continued to be at once elaborate and unhygienic, and were fitted with canopies and hangings of velvet and other rich stuffs. King William's bedstead was a great four-poster, hung with crimson velvet and surmounted at each corner with an enormous plume, which was much the same fashion of bedstead as at the beginning of the century. Fig. 2 is an interesting photograph (reproduced by permission of the Lord Chamberlain) of three Royal bedsteads at Hampton Court, viz. those of William, Mary, and George II. The chairs and stools in front are of the period of William and Mary. The table is of later date. Most of the old furniture at Hampton Court, however, has been dispersed amongst the other Royal palaces. An excellent idea of the appearance of a London dwelling-room of this period is shown in Fig. 3. It was removed from No. 3 Clifford's Inn, and is now to be seen at the Victoria and Albert Museum. The owner, John Penhallow, must have been well-to-do, as the fine carving about the mantelpiece and doors was expensive even in those days. The festoons of fruit and flowers of the school of Grinling Gibbon around the mantelpiece, in the centre of which are the arms of the owner, and the broken pediments over the doors surmounting the cherubs' heads, are characteristic of the time. The table with the marquetry top and "tied" stretcher is of the period. The chairs retained for a time that rigid resistance to the lines of the human form which marks the Stuart chairs; but very soon adapted themselves in a physiological sense. What is termed the Queen Anne period of furniture may be said to date from the reigns of William and Mary (1689- [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] 1702), and Queen Anne (1702-1714), to that of George I. (1714-1727). The Dutch influence of William and Mary became Anglicised during the reign of Anne and the first George, and the influence remains to this day. Mahogany was introduced about 1720, and thenceforward the influence of Chippendale and his school came into force. The Queen Anne style has probably been over-praised, a little misunderstood, and possibly a trifle harshly treated. Mr. Ernest Law, whose studies of this period we have already mentioned, describes it as "nothing better than an imitation of the bastard classic of Louis XIV., as distinguished from the so-called 'Queen Anne style' which never had any existence at all except in the brains of modern æsthetes and china maniacs," and as a case in point refers to Queen Anne's drawing-room at Hampton Court Palace. This verdict is no doubt a true one as regards the schemes of interior decoration, with their sprawling deities and the gaudy and discordant groupings of classical figures of Verrio and his school, to be seen at Hampton Court and other great houses. Verrio, as Macaulay wrote, "covered ceilings and staircases with Gorgons and Muses, Nymphs and Satyrs, Virtues and Vices, Gods quaffing nectar, and laurelled princes riding in triumph"—a decorative scheme which certainly does not err on the side of parsimony. The taste of a Court, however, is by no means a criterion of taste in domestic furniture. There can be no doubt that to this period we are indebted for the introduction of various articles of furniture of great utility and unquestionable taste. The chairs and tables in particular, depending as they do for charm upon simple lines and the transverse grain of the wood, for neatness of design and good workmanship are unsurpassed. Amongst other pieces the bureaux and long-cased clocks made their appearance; also double chests of drawers or tallboys, mirrors for toilet-tables and wall decoration; and washstands came into general use, as well as articles like card-tables, powdering-tables, &c. The houses of the wealthy were furnished with great magnificence and luxuriousness in a gaudy and ultra-decorative fashion. Restraint is the last quality to be found. Judging however from the many simple and charming specimens of walnut furniture surviving, the standard of comfort and good taste amongst the middle classes was high. Table glass was now manufactured in England; carpets were made at Kidderminster; chairs grew to be comfortably shaped; domestic conveniences in the way of chests of drawers, writing bureaux, and mirrors were all in general use in many middle-class houses. Mr. Pollen, whose handbook on the Victoria and Albert collection is so much appreciated, writes of the Queen Anne furniture as being of a "genuine English style marked by great purity and beauty." Anne, the second daughter of James II., was the last of the Stuarts, with whom, however, she had little in common, and indeed it is with something of an effort that we think of her as a Stuart at all. Personally she had no more influence upon the period which bears her name than the Goths had upon Gothic architecture. The term "Queen Anne" has grown to be a conveniently descriptive term for anything quaint and pretty. We are all familiar with the Queen Anne house of the modern architect, with its gables and sharply pitched roof. This, however, is probably suggested by various rambles in picturesque country districts in England and Holland; but it has nothing in common with the actual houses of the period under review. The bulk of the genuine furniture which has come down to us was probably from the houses of the merchant classes, the period being one of great commercial activity. The condition of the poor, however, was such that they could not concern themselves with furniture. Mr. Justin McCarthy, in his book on these times, estimates that one-fifth of the population were paupers. A few rude tables and chairs, a chest, truckle-beds, and possibly a settle, would have made up the possessions of the working-class house; and it is probable that not until the nineteenth century was there any material improvement in their household surroundings. It was a time in which the coffee-and chocolate-houses flourished; when Covent Garden and Leicester Square were fashionable neighbourhoods; when the Sedan chair was the fashionable means of transit; when the police were old men with rattles who, sheltered in boxes guarded the City; and when duels were fought, in Lincoln's Inn Fields. The coffee- house was a lively factor in the life of the times: although wines were also sold, coffee was the popular drink. The price for a dish of coffee and a seat by a good fire was commonly one penny, or perhaps three-halfpence, although to these humble prices there were aristocratic exceptions. Anderton's Hotel in Fleet Street, "The Bay Tree" in St. Swithin's Lane, and the now famous "Lloyd's" are interesting developments of the Queen Anne coffee-houses. Coffee itself was retailed at about seven shillings per pound. Chocolate-houses were small in number, but included names so well known at the present time as "White's" and the "Cocoa Tree." Chocolate was commonly twopence the dish. "Fancy the beaux," Thackeray writes, "thronging the chocolate-houses, tapping their snuff-boxes as they issue thence, their periwigs appearing over the red curtains." Tea-drinking was a social function and mainly a domestic operation, and to its popularity we owe the number of small light tables of this period. Snuff, or the fan supply each pause of chat, With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that. The price of tea fluctuated very much—some years it was much cheaper than others, varying from 10s. to 30s. per lb., although it is said that in the cheaper sorts old infused leaves were dried and mixed with new ones. As regards pottery and porcelain, the Chinese was in great request, following, no doubt, on the fashion set by Queen Mary. The English factories—Worcester, Derby, Chelsea, Bow, Wedgwood, and Minton—only started in the last half of the eighteenth century. Mr. Ashton, in his interesting book on "Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne," quotes the [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] following advertisement, which points to the continued popularity of decorative china: "Whereas the New East India Company did lately sell all their China Ware, These are to advertise that a very large parcel thereof (as Broken and Damaged) is now to be sold by wholesale and Retail, extremely cheap at a Warehouse in Dyer's Yard. Note.—It is very fit to furnish Escrutores, Cabinets, Corner Cupboards or Spriggs, where it usually stands for ornament only." This fashion first brought into use the various forms of cabinets used for the display of china. The earliest pieces would therefore date from the end of the seventeenth, or the beginning of the eighteenth century. In the first volume of this series we referred to a characteristic of Elizabethan woodwork, viz. inlaying—the laying-in of small pieces of one or several kinds of wood in places cut out of the surface of another kind. In the period under review two further practices are deserving of special notice. The first is veneering, which consists of wholly covering one sort of wood (frequently a common wood, such as deal or pine, but also oak) with a thin layer of choice wood—walnut, mahogany, &c. The object of veneering was not for purposes of deception, as it was not intended to produce the effect that the whole substance was of the finer sort of wood; but by means of applying these thin overlays a greater choice of wood was possible, and a more beautiful effect was produced by the juxtaposition of the various grains. Although at the present time the term veneer is frequently used as one of approbrium, the principle it stands for is a perfectly honest one. It is very much the same as the application of the thin strips of marble to the pillars and walls of St. Mark's at Venice, which is called incrustation, and of which Ruskin writes in the "Stones of Venice." The basis of St. Mark's is brick, which is covered by an incrustation or veneer of costly and beautiful marbles, by which rich and varied colour effects are produced which would have been impossible in solid marble. The same principle applies to veneers of wood, in which there is likewise no intention to deceive but rather a desire to make the most of the materials on hand. It would have been impossible to construct a great many cabinets of solid walnut-wood, nor would the effect have been so satisfactory, because, as already pointed out, the fact of veneers being laid in thin strips immensely increases the choice of woods and facilitates the composition of pleasing effects. There is, moreover, often a greater nicety of workmanship in the making of veneered furniture than in the solid article, and it is indeed often a complaint that the doing up of old veneered furniture is so expensive and troublesome. In old days veneers were cut by hand—sometimes one-eighth of an inch thick—but the modern veneer is, of course, cut by machinery, and is often a mere shaving. In the period under discussion walnut-veneering reached great perfection, beautiful effects being produced by cross- banding various strips and varying the course of the grains and the shades. Oak was first used as a base, but later commoner woods such as deal. It is a mistake to condemn an article because the basis is not of oak. As a matter of fact, after a time oak went out of use as a basis for the reason that it was unsatisfactory, the veneer having a tendency to come away from it. We frequently find the front of a drawer is built of pine, to take the veneer, whilst the sides and bottom of the drawer are of oak. Marquetry, which is also a feature in furniture of this period, is a combination of inlaying and veneering. A surface is covered with a veneer and the desired design is cut out and filled in with other wood. Its later developments are of French origin, and it was first introduced into England from Holland towards the end of the seventeenth century, after James II. (who had been a wanderer in Holland) came to the throne. Most arts date back to ancient times; and the arts of woodcraft are no exceptions. Inlaying, veneering, and wood- carving reach back to the temple of Solomon; and the Egyptians also practised them. Ancient inlay, moreover, was not confined to woods—ivory, pearls, marbles, metals, precious stones all being requisitioned. During the reigns of William and Mary, Anne, and George the First, events of great importance transpired. St. Paul's, that great monument to Wren and Renaissance architecture, was opened; the Marlborough wars were fought; the South Sea Bubble was blown and burst; Sir Christopher Wren and Grinling Gibbon completed their work; Marlborough House and Blenheim were built; Addison, Pope, and Daniel Defoe were at work; Gibraltar was taken; England and Scotland were united; the Bank of England was incorporated; and last, but not least, the National Debt started. CHAPTER II: SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN AND GRINLING GIBBON The temper of a nation is reflected in its architecture and, in a lesser degree, in its furniture. When we look at the furniture of the last of the Stuarts, Mary II. and her sister Anne, we see written all over it in large letters one great virtue —sobriety. In the oak furniture of the last of the Tudors and the first of the Stuarts (Elizabeth and James I.) we find the same sober note; but in the main it is more essentially English. In the Augustan era of Elizabeth we certainly see in the more pretentious examples of Court-cupboards and cabinets the influence of the Renaissance; but the furniture made by the people for the people is simply English in form and decoration. During the troublous times of the two Charles and to the end of the revolution which placed William and Mary on the [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] throne, the country was alternately in the throes of gaiety and Puritanism; and a dispassionate view leads one to suppose that "Merrie England" had the greater leaning towards merriment. The people of England knew well enough that sobriety was good for them, and Cromwell gave it in an unpalatable form. The remedy was less to the country's liking than the disease, and with the Restoration in 1660 the passions of the nation ran riot in the opposite extreme. The final lesson came with the twenty-nine years of misrule under Charles II. and James II. Having drained the cup of degradation to the dregs, the country set about her real reformation by the aid of Dutch William, himself the grandson of a Stuart, and his cousin-consort Anne, the daughter of the self-deposed James. James II. had learnt his lesson from the errors of his brother Charles, but was not wise enough to fully profit by it. He realised that misrule had stretched his subjects' patience to the breaking-point, and during his short reign there was a certain amount of surface calm. But beneath was the continual struggle for absolutism on the part of the monarch and emancipation on the part of the people. The subject is familiar to students of history. With the advent of the Orange règime we find a distinct revolution in English furniture. There is no evidence of a sudden change. We find comparatively severe examples during James II.'s reign and flamboyant patterns dating from the days of William. The transitional period was shorter than usual, and once the tide had gathered strength in its flow there was very little ebb. The Civil troubles in the country had given a severe check to the arts: the influence of the Renaissance upon furniture was upon the wane, and the ground was lying fallow and hungry for the new styles which may be said to have landed with William of Orange in Torbay in 1688. The main influence in the furniture was Dutch, and the Dutch had been to a large extent influenced by a wave of Orientalism. Twenty-five years before this, England's most renowned, if not greatest, architect had designed his first ecclesiastical building—the Chapel of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge—in the classical style which he made famous in England. Christopher Wren was born in 1631 or 1632. He was son of Dr. Christopher Wren, Dean of Windsor, and nephew of Matthew Wren, Bishop of Ely, who, to celebrate his release from the Tower, built Pembroke Hall Chapel in 1663, employing his nephew as architect. In 1664, when Christopher Wren was about thirty-two years of age, he came in contact with John Evelyn, the diarist, who in his journal, under date July 13, writes of him as that "miracle of a youth." The acquaintanceship ripened into a friendship, only broken by Evelyn's death in 1706. From Evelyn's diary we are able to glean many things concerning the then rising young architect. The idea of the Royal Society was the outcome of a meeting in 1660 of several scientists in Wren's room after one of the lectures at Gresham College. On being approached on the desirability of forming the Society, Charles II. gave his assent and encouragement to the project, and we learn that one of the first transactions of the Society was an account of Wren's pendulum experiment. The Society was incorporated by Royal Charter in 1663. It would appear that Wren had no world-wide reputation as an architect at the time, but, probably through the instrumentality of his friend Evelyn, he was appointed by the King as assistant to Sir John Denham, the Surveyor- General of Works, and in the opinion of one of his biographers, Lucy Phillimore, "the practical experience learned in the details of the assistant-surveyor's work was afterwards very serviceable to him." We find him occupied in 1664 in plans for repairing old St. Paul's and in building the Sheldonian Theatre at Oxford, which was finished in 1669. During the plague of 1665 Wren made a tour of the Continent, and there absorbed ideas which fructified in the new style of classical architecture which has made his name famous. During further discussions concerning the much-needed repairs to St. Paul's came the fire of London in 1666. This solved the difficulty, for St. Paul's was left a gaunt skeleton in the City of Desolation. Wren's plans for the rebuilding of the City were accepted by the King, but were never carried out in anything like their entirety. All attempts to patch up the cathedral were abandoned in 1673, and the ground was cleared for the new foundations. The architect and his master mason laid the first stone on June 21, 1675. The cathedral and the story of its building is familiar to us all. The great architect, having drawn the circle for the dome, called to a workman to bring him a piece of stone to mark the centre. The man brought a fragment of an old tombstone on which was the single word "Resurgam." All present took it as a good omen. We all know how the last stone of the lantern was laid thirty-five years afterwards by the architect's own son in the presence of his father. During those thirty-five years the great freemason's hands had been full, and in the City which rose from the ashes of the fire of 1666 no less than fifty-four churches were either built or restored by him. In addition, we find that the rebuilding or restoration of thirty-six halls of the City guilds, as well as upwards of fifty notable buildings—hospitals, colleges, palaces, cathedrals and churches—in London and the provinces, is laid to his credit. St. Paul's Cathedral, Wren's City churches, and the Monument, would in themselves make London famous amongst the cities of the world. The Monument was erected to commemorate the rebuilding of the City. The inscription thereon absurdly attributes the origin of the fire to the Papists. Pope satirises it in his "Moral Essays": London's Column pointing to the skies Like a tall bully lifts the head and lies. [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] Chief, for beauty, amongst the churches is St. Stephen's, Walbrook. Canova, the great sculptor, after paying a visit to England for the purpose of seeing the Elgin marbles, was asked if he would like to return to the country. "Yes," he replied, "that I might again see St. Paul's Cathedral, Somerset House, and St. Stephen's, Walbrook." A dozen or more of Wren's churches have been swept off the map of London, in many cases with a wantonness amounting to sacrilege; but we can still rejoice in the possession of such gems as St. Stephen's, Walbrook; St. Nicholas, Cole Abbey; and St. Mary Abchurch, with its flat roof and cupola supported on eight arches. St. Dunstan's in the East, near the Custom House, still stands testifying to the fact that Wren could restore a church without spoiling it. St. Dunstan's, built in the latest style of perpendicular Gothic, was left a mere shell after the fire. Wren added the fine tower, and capped it with the curious and graceful spire supported on flying buttresses. It is said that the architect stood on London Bridge with a telescope anxiously watching the removal of the scaffolding from the spire. It is scarcely credible, however, that such a man should doubt his own powers of building. This legend recalls the story of the building of the Town Hall at Windsor in 1686. The spacious chamber on the street level is used as a corn exchange and above is the great hall. The anxious town councillors declared that the great room above would collapse. Wren knew exactly how much his four walls and great beams could bear, but, to appease the burghers, he promised to place four columns at the intersections of the beams. He purposely built them about two inches short, and, to this day, after the lapse of two hundred and twenty-five years, there is still a two-inch space between the top of each column and the ceiling it is supposed to support. On the exterior of the building are two statues given by Wren in 1707: one of Queen Anne and the other of her Danish consort, Prince George. Our good Christopher could flatter on occasion. The inscription to Prince George in his Roman costume reads, inter alia: Heroi omni saeculo venerando. Underneath the figure of Queen Anne is the legend: Arte tua sculptor non est imitabilis Anna Annae vis similem sculpere sculpe Deam. The local rhyming and free translation runs: Artist, thy skill is vain! Thou can'st not trace The semblance of the matchless Anna's face! Thou might'st as well to high Olympus fly And carve the model of some Deity! We admit this is a very free and extended translation, but it passes current locally. To say the least, it is high praise; but Wren had a staunch friend in Queen Anne, and every eye makes its own beauty. The exigencies of the time called for a great architect, and he appeared in the person of Christopher Wren: they called for a great artist to adorn the master's buildings, and he appeared in the guise of Grinling Gibbon. The discovery of Gibbon in an obscure house at Deptford goes to the credit of gossipy John Evelyn, who on January 18, 1671, writes: "This day, I first acquainted his Majesty (Charles II.) with that incomparable young man Gibbon, whom I had lately met with in an obscure place by mere accident, in a field in our parish, near Sayes Court. I found him shut in; but looking in at the window, I perceived him carving that large cartoon or crucifix of Tintoretto, a copy of which I had brought myself from Venice, where the original painting remains. I asked if I might enter; he opened the door civilly to me, and I saw him about such a work as for the curiosity of handling, drawing and studious exactness, I never had before seen in all my travels. I questioned why he worked in such an obscure and lonesome place; it was that he might apply himself to his profession without interruption, and wondered not a little how I found him out. I asked him if he were unwilling to be known to some great man, for that I believed it might turn to his profit, he answered, he was yet but a beginner, but would not be sorry to sell off that piece; on demanding the price he said £100. In good earnest, the very frame was worth the money, there being nothing in nature so tender and delicate as the flowers and festoons about it, and yet the work was very strong; in the piece was more than one hundred figures of men, &c.... Of this young artist, together with my manner of finding him out, I acquainted the King, and begged that he would give me leave to bring him and his work to Whitehall, for that I would venture my reputation with his Majesty that he had never seen anything approach it, and that he would be exceedingly pleased, and employ him. The King said he would himself go see him. This was the first notice his Majesty ever had of Mr. Gibbon." The King evidently did not "go see him," for under date March 1 we read: "I caused Mr. Gibbon to bring to Whitehall his excellent piece of carving, where being come, I advertised his Majesty.... No sooner was he entered and cast his eye on the work, but he was astonished at the curiosity of it, and having considered it a long time and discoursed with Mr. Gibbon whom I brought to kiss his hand, he commanded it should be immediately carried to the Queen's side to show her. It was carried up into her bed-chamber, where she and the King looked on and admired it again; the King being called away, left us with the Queen, believing she would have bought it, it being a crucifix; but when his Majesty [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] was gone, a French peddling woman, one Madame de Boord, who used to bring petticoats and fans and baubles, out of France to the ladies, began to find fault with several things in the work, which she understood no more than an ass, or a monkey, so as in a kind of indignation, I caused the person who brought it to carry it back to the Chamber, finding the Queen so much governed by an ignorant French woman, and this incomparable artist had his labour only for his pains, which not a little displeased me; he not long after sold it for £80, though well worth £100, without the frame, to Sir George Viner. His Majesty's Surveyor, Mr. Wren, faithfully promised to employ him. I having also bespoke his Majesty for his work at Windsor, which my friend Mr. May, the architect there, was going to alter and repair universally." Grinling Gibbon was born in 1648, and so the "incomparable young man" would have been about twenty-three years of age when he sailed into Royal favour. We do not know the whereabouts of the carved cartoon after Tintoretto; but we shall find at the Victoria and Albert Museum a carving by Gibbon, measuring 6 ft. in height by 4 ft. 4 in. in width, of the "Stoning of St. Stephen." It is executed in limewood and lance-wood. Walpole, in his "Catalogue of Painters," writes of the "Stoning of St. Stephen," which was purchased and placed by the Duke of Chandos at Canons,[2] as the carving which had "struck so good a judge" as Evelyn. It is palpably not identical with the Tintoret subject which Evelyn describes as "being a crucifix." Fig. 10 in Chapter III. is a remarkable example of Gibbon's carving of fruits, flowers, and foliage. Readers who are familiar with the Belgian churches will remember the wonderful carvings at Brussels and Mecklin by Drevot and Laurens, who were pupils of Gibbon. They out-Gibbon Gibbon in their realism. In Fig. 4, photographed for this book by the South Kensington authorities, we give an illustration of a carving in pinewood of a pendant of flowers attributed to Gibbon. It originally decorated the Church of St. Mary Somerset, Thames Street, E.C., built 1695—one of Wren's City churches so wantonly destroyed. To see Gibbon's wood carving at its best we must go to St. Paul's Cathedral, Windsor Castle, and Hampton Court Palace. At Windsor we shall also see carved marble panels of trophies, emblems and realistic fruits, flowers and shell-fish on the pedestal of the statue of Charles II. At Charing Cross we have another example of his stone carving on the pedestal of the statue of Charles the Martyr. We have already referred to the Church of St. Mary Abchurch in Abchurch Lane, between King William Street and Cannon Street, City. It was built in 1686, eleven years after the first stone of St. Paul's was laid. It also serves for the parish of St. Laurence Pountney. It lies in a quiet backwater off the busy stream, and the flagged courtyard is still surrounded by a few contemporary houses. Externally it is not beautiful, but Wren and Gibbon expended loving care on the really beautiful interior. The soft light from the quaint circular and round-headed windows casts a gentle radiance over the carved festoons of fruit, palm-leaves and the "pelican in her piety." Just across, on the other side of Cannon Street, is another backwater, Laurence Pountney Hill. Two of the old Queen Anne houses remain, No. 1 and No. 2, with beautiful old hooded doorways dated 1703. The circular hoods are supported by carved lion-headed brackets. The jambs are ornamented with delicate interlaced carving. No. 2 has been mutilated as to its windows, and a modern excrescence has been built on to the ground floor; but No. 1 appears to be much as it left the builders' hands in 1703, and still possesses the old wide staircase with twisted "barley-sugar" balusters and carved rose newel pendants. These houses may or may not have been designed by Wren. They seem to bear the impress of his genius, and in any case they give us a glimpse—and such glimpses are all too rare—of the homes of the City fathers, just as the little church across Cannon Street brings us in touch with their religious life in the early days of Queen Anne. Fig. 5 represents an interesting series of turned balusters taken from old houses of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. They are executed in oak, lime, ash and pinewood—mostly the latter; and many of the details will be found repeated in the furniture legs of the Queen Anne period. The photograph was specially taken for this volume by the courtesy of the Director and Secretary of the Victoria and Albert Museum. Fig. 6 represents a contemporary doorway of a room formerly at No. 3 Clifford's Inn. It is of oak, with applied carvings in cedar of acanthus-leaf work, enclosing a cherub's head and a broken pediment terminating in volutes. We shall find members of the same cherub family on the exterior of St. Mary Abchurch. Fig. 7 is the overmantel of the same room with a marble mantelpiece of somewhat later date. This room, now at the Victoria and Albert Museum, was erected in 1686 by John Penhallow, who resided there till 1716. Fig. 8 is a beautiful doorway carved in yellow pine, with Corinthian columns and pediment. We shall find similar pediments in the tower of Wren's church, St. Andrew's, Holborn. This doorway with the carved mantelpiece (Fig. 9) came from an old house in Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. These belong to the early part of the eighteenth century. These are but a few isolated examples of beautiful settings to the furniture of the period of the revival of classical architecture in England. Such things are not for the modest collector, who will content himself with the chairs, tables, and bureaux of the period—articles, in the main, of severe outline devoid of carving, and relying for effect much upon the rich tones of the wood employed, but withal eminently beautiful, inasmuch as they were and are eminently useful. CHAPTER III: MIRRORS, STOOLS, AND SOME NOTES ON A QUEEN ANNE BEDROOM [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] The mirror, at the present time, is so generally an accepted necessary of life, and so indispensable in many of its situations, that it may seem remarkable that not until the sixteenth century was it in anything like general use in England. The pleasure and interest of reflection must have been felt from the time when "the reindeer roared where Paris roars to-night." Still water must have been the first mirror of the first man and woman in which they discovered their astonished faces, and where it is possible that, like Narcissus, they fell in love with their own reflections. Thus we find Eve saying in "Paradise Lost": I thither went And with unexperienced thought, and laid me down On the green bank; to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seem'd a second sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite, A shape within the wat'ry gleam appear'd, Bending to look on me. No doubt a reflecting surface was one of the first things that human ingenuity concerned itself about. Brass mirrors were used by the Hebrews, and mirrors of bronze by the Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans; surviving specimens may be seen in the museums. Silver mirrors were also used in very early times. Glass mirrors are also of ancient origin. Sauzay, in his work on "Glass-making," quotes from Aristotle as follows: "If metals and stones are to be polished to serve as mirrors, glass and crystal have to be lined with a sheet of metal to give back the image presented to them." And here we have the foreshadowing of the mercury-backed sheet of glass of modern times. In England mirrors of polished metal were well known in Anglo-Saxon times, and from the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries the ladies carried mirrors at their girdles or in their pockets. Venice has always been the home of glass-work, and it was there, in the early fourteenth century, that the immediate prototypes of our modern glass mirrors were made. For something like a century and a half the Venetians had the monopoly of the making of the best mirrors. Their secrets were carefully guarded, and any workman emigrating had his nearest relative imprisoned. It is interesting to note in passing that in Jan van Eyck's picture in the National Gallery, London, painted in 1434, there is a framed convex wall mirror which has an astonishingly modern look. It is difficult to say whether or not this is made of glass, but it shows, of course, that mirrors were used for wall decoration at that time. This picture, by the way, is very interesting, as providing undeniable evidence as to the nature of the Dutch furniture of the early fifteenth century. As regards the early history of the mirror in Britain, there is a glass mirror in Holyrood Palace in the apartments used by Queen Mary the First and said to have belonged to her. At Hampton Court there are mirrors belonging to the period of William III. and later, some of which have bevelled edges and borders of blue glass in the form of rosettes. Glass mirrors were made in England by Italian workmen early in the seventeenth century, but not extensively until about 1670, when the Duke of Buckingham established works in Lambeth, where mirrors were made. The edges were bevelled in Venetian fashion. We find Evelyn writing in his diary under date of September 19, 1676: "To Lambeth to that rare magazine of marble, to take order for chimney pieces, &c., for Mr. Godolphin's house. The owner of the workes had built for himselfe a pretty dwelling house; this Dutchman had contracted with the Genoese for all their marble. We also saw the Duke of Buckingham's Glass Worke, where they made high vases of metal as cleare, ponderous and thick as chrystal; also looking-glasses far larger and better than any that come from Venice." As will be seen at Hampton Court, the glass in each of the large mirrors of this time is in two pieces, for the reason that, by the methods then in use, it was not possible to make larger sheets. This method of making mirrors in two pieces is followed even in the present day in modern copies of old mirrors. It was, no doubt, a cause of regret to the old makers that they could not turn out a large glass in one sheet, and they would no doubt have been astonished to think that succeeding ages would deliberately copy their defect. A collector will not, probably, come across a mirror earlier than William and Mary, and he should have little difficulty in finding genuine mirrors of the next reign—Queen Anne—which are at once interesting and inexpensive. Mr. Clouston thinks that "the wall mirrors of the Queen Anne period may very well rank with the best furniture of their time. They are simple yet satisfying, and rich without extravagance." A mirror is not a mere looking-glass, although in this connection it has...