The Frame Blog

by Pippa Mason and Michael Gregory

Foreword

This essay was originally published to accompany an exhibition of craftsmen’s tools and picture frames [1] at Arnold Wiggins & Sons which illustrated the traditional techniques of gilding and silvering used in framemaking. In the 18^th century, London was a city where hundreds of gilders worked. Today there are few workshops still practising those traditional techniques, and, of the forty-nine companies of goldbeaters recorded in the 1880s, none remain. The last firm, George M. Whiley Limited, moved out in 1971, and their goldbeating equipment was donated to the Museum of London.

The purpose of the exhibition was to promote an understanding and appreciation of gilded objects. It included frames in a good original state, but also examples showing the effects of later restoration and regilding.  Gilded surfaces are fragile and easily become dirty and damaged. Those which retain their original gilding or silvering are, therefore, rare, and provide us with important points of reference for modern conservation.

This essay examines the history of the crafts involved and describes the techniques, recipes and materials used with reference to contemporary treatises and manuals. The earliest of these was published in the 1670s, and the most instructive, for our purposes, is A Treatise of Japaning and Varnishing by John Stalker and George Parker, of 1688. Little is known about the authors, but so detailed is their knowledge of the processes that one feels sure that they must have had practical experience. Indeed, one is tempted to feel that they were framemakers, on account of their frequent references to frames.  Another important source is Robert Dossie’s Handmaid to the Arts, which provides detailed descriptions of the techniques used in the mid-18^th century. These sources also give us insight into contemporary society, fashions and opinions.

Introduction

With the restoration of the monarchy in 1660, interior decoration and furniture became more luxurious than before, and there was a growth in the decorative arts trades to support this demand. Carving and gilding in particular flourished. From 1660 the prevailing influence on the decorative arts in Britain was from France and Holland. The return of king and court, many of whom had been exiled in France, brought French ideas to Britain, and the arrival of 40-50,000 Huguenots – many of them skilled craftsmen – fleeing religious persecution in France, did much to enhance this trend.

French craftsmen, wrote the author of Englands interest and improvement in 1663,

‘have introduced new modes and new tastes and set us all agog’ [2].

French engravings were avidly sought after and provided an important source for disseminating the Louis XIV style in Britain. Christopher Wren, visiting Paris in 1665, wrote that,

‘I have purchased a great deal of Taille-douce [copperplate engravings] that I might give our Countrymen Examples of Ornaments and Grotesks, in which the Italians themselves confess the French excell’ [3].

Gideon Saint (1729-99), Scrapbook of working designs, 1760s, p. 23, Metropolitan Museum, New York

A good illustration of the importance of French engravings as a source of design for British craftsmen is the scrapbook of designs compiled during the 1760s by Gideon Saint, a carver and gilder. This contained engraved designs from books by three British artists and five French artists.

Robert Dossie, in his preface to Handmaid to the Arts, lamented the fact that in Britain the government did little to foster the decorative arts:

‘It must be with regret, therefore, we see the French have long got the start of us in this very material pursuit; and that the encouragement given by their government, together with the opportunities afforded by a well-instituted academy, has diffused such a judgment and taste in design, among all classes of artisans, as render France at this time the source of nearly all invention of fashions, and necessarily occasions an extreme great demand from her for all those articles, in the production of which such talents are exercised’ [4].

Traditionally, framemaking involved three distinct skills or crafts: joinery, carving and gilding. From the second half of the 17^th century, it gradually developed into a specialized branch of the furniture trade. Although the big furniture workshops, such as those of William Hallett, Thomas Chippendale, and William and John Linnell, made frames, many were also made in smaller workshops specializing in carvers’ pieces, amongst whom there were craftsmen who specifically called themselves framemakers. In 1669, Pepys recorded a visit to ‘the framemakers, one Norris in Long Acre’, who made frames for  [the king and queen] William and Mary. By the middle of the 18^th century, it was noted that,

‘Though Frame-Making is certainly a Part of Joinery, yet making those for Pictures and Looking glasses, Tables and Slabs, especially the most curious Sorts of them, in which usually there is a good deal of Carving is a particular trade’ [5].

And there was even a distinction between the ‘Picture-Frame Makers, who work for Portrait Painters’ and ‘the Frame-maker for prints’ [6].

The Gilder

Trade card of Joseph Cox (fl. c.1760-75), framemaker & gilder, Trustees of the British Museum

Gilders never appear to have had their own guild, but belonged to the Painter-Stainers Company which was incorporated in 1532. At this period the crafts of painting and gilding were closely allied. However, in the 17^th century, the fashion for giltwood furniture meant that a close relationship developed between the carver and the gilder – to the extent that, in the 18^th century, it was not uncommon for apprentices to be taught both crafts together [7]. In 1747, R. Campbell noted that,

‘Gilders are generally Carvers’, and that ‘…there is Employment but for few Hands who do not understand Carving [8].

Trade card of Hartley (fl. c.1740-80), carver & gilder, Trustees of the British Museum

18^th century trade cards frequently advertize the combined skills of carving and gilding. The gilder was, according to the author of A General Description of All Trades,

‘…a finisher of many things, they being the last Hands through which they go… The art of gilding… is easy as to Labour required, yet curious in its performance’ [9].

According to the same source, an apprentice would pay a premium of £10 to a Master, and his working hours would be from six to eight,

‘…in which Time a quick, nice Hand will earn 3s to 4s [15 to 20 pence] and to be a Master will not require above £100 in the common run’ [10].

R. Campbell noted that gilding

‘is a very profitable Business to the Master; who is Paid by the Piece, and sometimes by the Foot’ [11].

The Techniques of Gilding

Denis Diderot (1713-84) et D’Alembert (1717-83), ‘Le doreur sur bois’, illustrations de l’Encyclopédie ou dictionnaire raisonné des sciences, arts et métiers, 1777-79, BnF, département Littérature et Art, Z-373

The tools used by the gilder today are very much the same as those used for centuries. Stalker and Parker instruct the gilder to:

‘…furnish your self with a Cushion made of Leather stufft very even with Tow, and strained on a board 10 inches one way, and 14 the other. On this you are to cut the gold and silver with a thin, broad, sharp and smooth-edged knife: To these, three or four Pencils of finer hair than ordinary; some are of Swans-quills, and sold singly for 6d [2 ½ pence]. the Artists use also the ends of a Squirrels tail spread abroad, and fastened to a flat pencil-stick, which is broad at one end, and split, just like an house-painter’s Graining-tool, but less; it serves for taking up and laying on whole Leaves at a time, and is by them called a Pallet: Cotton is also requisite, and some use nothing else. The Guilders commonly border their Cushion at one end, and four or five inches down each side, with a strip of parchment two inches high, intending by this fence and bulwark to preserve their Gold from the assaults of Wind, and Air, which if moved never so gently, carries away this light body, which willingly complies with its uncertain motions’ [12].

L. Cornelissen & Son, gold leaf chart

Different colours of gold leaf were available, depending on the purity of the gold. Dossie warns that

‘…if the gold be allayed with silver it will be of too pale and greenish a hue for any application; and if it contain much copper, it will in time turn to a yet much stronger green’,

and says that, in his opinion,

‘The full yellow is certainly the most beautiful and truest colour of gold; but the deep reddish cast has been of late most esteemed from the caprice of fashion’ [13].

There were two methods of gilding: oil gilding and water-gilding. Craftsmen would have been skilled in both techniques, and would have chosen whichever was appropriate to their commission. Both methods were used for picture frames; some patterns were typically oil-gilded whilst others were more often water-gilded, but there were no hard and fast rules. It was not uncommon for both types to be combined on one frame.

Water-gilding

Wolfgang Heimbach (c.1613-78), The gilder, o/c, 60 x 78.5 cm., Artnet

Water-gilding was generally referred to as ‘burnished gold’ in the early manuals, and according to Dossie,

‘The chief difference in the manner betwixt this and oil gilding lies in the preparing the work to receive the gold; and in the substituting a size made of parchment, or the cuttings of glovers’s leather in the place of the fat oil, as cement…’ [14]

Denis Diderot (1713-84) et D’Alembert (1717-83), ‘Le doreur sur bois’, l’Encyclopédie…, 1777-79, ‘Les étapes de la dorure sur bois’: the stages of gilding: fig 1) finishing with vermilion; fig 2) recutting; fig 3) gilding at the easel; fig 4) softening; fig 5) gessoing; fig 6) rubbing down, BnF, département Littérature et Art, Z-373

Water-gilding was a lengthy and time-consuming process. Jean-Félix Watin, the author of a French 18^th century manual on painting and gilding, identified no fewer than seventeen processes:

‘Il  y a dix-sept opérations principales pour finir un ouvrage de dorure en détrempe; savoir, encoller, blanchir, reboucher & peau de chienner, adoucir & poncer, réparer, dégraisser, prêler, jaunir, égrainer, coucher d’assiette, frotter, dorer, brunir, matter, ramender, vermeilloner & repasser’ [15].

[… to glue, to whiten, to putty up and polish with the skin of a sealion, soften and rub down (with pumice), recut, remove any grease, rub with a rush in preparation for the yellow ochre, paint with yellow ochre, make smooth, apply the bole [gilder’s clay], polish, gild, burnish, secure the areas not to be burnished with size, re-gild any small areas which have been missed, finish with vermillion, go over once again’]

Before any gold leaf could be laid, the ground had to be prepared. First, the surface of the wood was gessoed. The method is described by Stalker and Parker as follows:

‘Take two pounds of cuttings or shavings of clean Parchment; the Scriveners vend it for 3d [1 ¼ pence] the pound: wash and put it into a gallon of fair water, boil it to a Jelly, then strain, and suffer it to cool, and you will find it a strong Size. This may be used in white Japan also, instead of Ising-glass-size. When you intend to employ any part of it about the business in hand, put a proportionable quantity into an earthen pipkin, make it very hot, remove it then from the fire, and scrape into it as much Whiting as may only colour it; mingle; and incorporate them well together with a clean Brush. With this whiten your Frame, jobbing and striking your Brush against it, that the Whiting may enter into every private corner and hollowness of its carved work; give it rest and leisure to dry’ [16].

This process was then repeated seven or eight times, allowing the gesso to dry between coats until,

‘…after the last, before tis quite dry, dip a clean brush in water, wet and smooth it over gently, and rush it smooth when dry if you find it necessary’ [17].

Marius-Antoine Barret (1865-1929), Un apprêteur-doreur (A recutter), 1892, o/c, 154 x 127.3 cm., detail, Art market

These coats of gesso obscured the detail of the carving and the work was returned to the carver for recutting:

‘In the next place, with an instrument called a Gouge, no broader than a straw, open the veins of the Carved work, which your Whiting has choakt and stopt up’ [18].

The surface of the gesso was once again smoothed, as follows:

‘…procure a fine rag wetted, with which and your finger gently with care smooth and water-plain it all over’ [19].

Top: British carved & silvered panel frame, 2^nd half 17^th century, showing recutting in the gesso; bottom: British carved & silvered frame, 2^nd half 17^th century, showing ring-punching in the gesso. Arnold Wiggins & Sons

The British panel frame (or ‘Lely’ frame; above) illustrates clearly the recutting in the gesso; the veins in the leaves have been delineated, there is a hazzled design on the sight edge and cross-hatching in the ground between the carving. This reworking of the gesso not only gives relief and definition to the carving, but creates textural interest. More often than not this fine detail has been obscured by later layers of regilding.  A variety of textures can be created by working in the gesso. For instance, ring-punching is characteristic of the Queen Anne period, and, indeed, at this period it was common for the entire design to be carved in the gesso, rather than in the wood.

Jean Pelletier (fl. c.1681-d.1705), candlestand, 1701, carved and gilded oak, lime and gesso, 155.5 x 48.5 cm., King’s Withdrawing Room, Hampton Court Palace, Royal Collection Trust

Fine examples of carved gesso work can be seen on suites of furniture at Hampton Court, supplied by Jean Pelletier in 1692, and the firm of Gumley and Moore in 1714.

After the gesso, a yellow ochre, finely ground and mixed with size, was applied all over the frame:

‘This last method is to give the appearance of gilding to the deeper and obscure parts of the carving, where the gold cannot or is not thought necessary to be put… [20]

Armenian bole

For water-gilding a layer of burnishing size, today called ‘bole’, was applied to the gessoed frame. There are numerous different recipes: some for application beneath gold and others for use beneath silver.  The colour varied, according to the recipe. The most important ingredient used was, according to Sheraton,

‘…a kind of viscid earth, less coherent and more friable than clay. It more readily unites with water than clay, and subsides more freely from it. There are great variety of these earths, but that kind used in burnishing gilding on wood is bole armoniac’ [21].

The colour of the earth depended upon the region it came from, ranging from yellow to dark red. Watin, writing in 1794, noted that formerly the earth used by gilders had come from the Levant and Armenia, hence its name, bole armoniac, but currently, he said,

‘Le plus beau & le plus estimé vient de Blois, de Saumur, de la Bourgogne: on en trouve dans plusiers carrieres autour de Paris, comme à Bâville, à Meudon, qui, quand il est bien rouge, est assez recherché’.

[‘The most beautiful and prized comes from Blois, Saumur and Burgundy: it is also found in some quarries near Paris, such as Baville and Meudon, and, when it is a good red, is quite sought after’.] [22]

British frame with original gilding from the London workshop of Thomas and René Pelletier, 1705-11, 58.8 x 51.2 cm., pinewood, details showing dark red bole, V & A

One can frequently see the dark red bole which Watin describes on 17^th and 18^th century French frames, and a similar colour can also be seen on much Huguenot work in Britain – for example, where the gold has become thinner on the frame (above), carved by Thomas Pelletier. A lighter pink bole was also frequently used in Britain during the 18^th century, whilst in the 19^th century it was common to use a greyish-blue bole.

The careful preparation of this bole was important if the gold was to burnish successfully, but it was not easy to achieve, and even

‘…The most experienced are uncertain, when they make the Size, whether ’twill answer their intentions, and suffer them to burnish on it’ [23].

The recipe had to be varied according to the weather, ‘for the Summer demands a stronger Size than the Winter’ [24], and the manuals list a number of different recipes. The gilder is warned

‘…never to attempt to whiten, gold-size, or burnish [the work], in the time of a hard frost; for your Whiting will be apt to peel off, the Gold and Silver-size will freez in laying on, not to say any thing of other misfortunes that attend the unseasonable operation’ [25].

These were problems experienced by Chippendale in January 1768, when he wrote to Sir Rowland Winn, saying that,

‘…all the picture frames are Carv’d and now Gilding, they would have been finished by this time had not the frost come on so very severe’ [26].

Joseph Southall (1861-1944), Mrs Joseph Southall ‘Burnishing the bole’, 1912, pencil on paper, private collection

The surface of the bole was then made smooth. If a particularly high burnish was required, the bole was polished before the gold leaf was applied.

Now the frame was ready for gilding. Stalker’s and Parker’s poetic account describes the use of water, which gives the name to this method, to fix the gold leaf to the gesso:

‘Having set your Frame on an Hasel, or fixt it in some other place, in an upright posture that the water may run off, and not settle in any of the hollownesses, lay some leaves of Gold on your Cushion… Produce then a Swans-quill-pencil, or a larger tool of Camels-hair if the work require it: this being dipt in water, wet so much of your Frame as will take up three or four leaves, beginning at the lower end, ascending and guilding upwards, laying on whole leaves, or half, as your work calls for them… If your work be sufficiently moist, you’l perceive how lovingly the gold will embrace it, hugging and clinging to it, like those inseparable friends, Iron and the Loadstone’ [27].

Robert Dossie noted that,

‘Some wet the work with brandy, or spirit of wine, instead of water; but I do not conceive any advantage can arise from it, that may not be equally obtained by a judicious use of water…’ [28]

When gold had been laid all over the frame, it was necessary to go back and fill any small gaps which had been missed:

‘Cut some leaves of gold into small pieces, and with a smaller pencil than before wet the unguilded parts, and take up bits of gold proportion’d to the places that stand in need of it; this last performance we call, Faulting’ [29].

British ‘Carlo Maratta’ frame, second half 18^th century, carved & gilded, showing ‘faulting’ and contrasting areas of oil and burnished water-gilding. Arnold Wiggins & Sons

This faulting can be easily seen on many gilded objects, particularly where the surface of the gold has become worn and thin. It is also possible to see the bands of more solid gold at 3 inch intervals, where the leaves of gold overlap.

This need for ‘faulting’ could be avoided if the object were given a second layer of gold leaf, a process known as double gilding. This technique was practised in the 19^th century in particular, when

‘…all the best work that is flat, such as broad insides to picture frames, spandrills, flat looking-glass frames, &c., are double gilt; and this is done to give the work a better colour and more solid appearance’ [30].

Louis Emile Adan (1839-1937), Chez le doreur, c.1905, o/c, 60.5 x 81.5 cm., showing two women in the foreground burnishing a frame, Musée des Beaux-Art d’Angers

The frame was allowed to dry for twenty-four hours, after which is could be burnished. Careful consideration was given to which areas should be burnished, and which should be left matte. The contrast between burnished and matte areas enhanced the design of the frame, and gave great subtlety to the play of light across the gilded surface. Dossie notes that,

‘…the parts of it that are designed to be burnished must be polished with dog’s tooth, or with the burnishers of agate or flint made for this purpose…’ [31]

L. Cornelissen & Son, dragon’s blood pieces

Then,

‘Having burnisht so much of your work as you design, leave the ground of your Carving untoucht, and some other parts as you think best, which being rough in respect of the others, sets off and beautifies the burnishing; that which is not burnisht, must be matted or secured with Size, Seed-Lac-varnish, or Lacker, if you desire it deep-colour’d; and pray confine it to this part only, let not your unsteddy hand wander or transgress its bounds, and upon no account approach the burnishing. Then the work must be set off or repossed with Lacker, mixt in a gallipot with Dragons-blood and Saffron, or a colour called, Ornator; into which a fine pencil being dipt, with it touch the hollownesses of your Carving, the hollow veins of the leaves and foldage…’ [32]

Bill for gilding materials supplied to a craftsman working at Petworth, 1763. Courtesy of the Lord Egremont

These finishing processes added subtle nuances to the surface of the gilding, and added richness of colour. A bill for gilding materials preserved in the Petworth archive itemizes dragon’s blood, mentioned above – a ground resin in spirit. These materials may well have been supplied to Samuel Norman, who was working there at the time, mostly carving and water-gilding picture and looking-glass frames. One of his bills, for example, itemizes a

‘Large French Picture frame, with Sweep’d Corners and middles, curiously Carved in Large manner to match 2 others, Gilt in Burnished Gold Complete £8.18.0’ [£8.90] .[33]

British carved & water-gilded picture frames, second half 18^th century. Arnold Wiggins & Sons

Dossie, writing in the second half of the 18^th century, noted that water-gilding was

‘…seldom practised but upon wood; and at present mostly in the case of carved work, or where carved work is mixed with plain…’ [34]

– for example, in ‘Carlo Maratta’ frames and other NeoClassical hollow and flat section mouldings which provided smooth, uncarved areas (above).

Guido Reni, Cleopatra, frame as it is today without crest, festoons of husks and apron ornament, and with added Regency corners and centres; Thomas Chippendale, design for the frame as it was originally, 1767; both Nostell Priory, NT

18^th century designers were particularly sensitive to the possibilities of matte and burnished gilding. Thomas Chippendale’s pencil and watercolour design for a picture frame for a painting of Cleopatra by Guido Reni at Nostell Priory is inscribed:

‘Nb. The Coloured part is burnished Gold
the other part all Dead’

[This distinction has sadly been lost in the later adaptation of the frame to Regency taste.]

Robert (1728-92) & James (1732-94) Adam, design for picture frame moulding, annotated with ‘B’ and ‘m’ to indicate burnished and matte gilding. Courtesy of the Trustees of Sir John Soane’s Museum

There are drawings by both Adam and Linnell which are also annotated with ‘B’ and ‘M’, to indicate the areas of burnished and matte gilding. This contrast between matte and burnished areas is also sometimes indicated in craftsmen’s bills; for example, in1767 John Bradburn and William France were paid £113.15s [£113.75 pence] for

‘2 very rich whole Length Tabernackle Frames, carved, and gilt, part burnished’ [35].

British ‘Carlo Maratta’ frame, second half 18^th century, carved & gilded, showing contrasting areas of oil and burnished water-gilding. Arnold Wiggins & Sons

This contrast could also be achieved by mixing areas of water- and oil gilding: for example, in the British ‘Carlo Maratta’ frame, where the burnished areas of the frame are the hollow, the knull, the back hollow, the shields between the carved acanthus leaves, the pearls at the sight edge and the eggs on the back moulding. In contrast, the acanthus leaves and ribbon-&-stave moulding are oil gilded and matte.

Oil gilding

Manuscript bill of Richard Mason, carver & gilder, addressed to the Earl of Wintorton, 1765, including the entry for February 28: ‘To new Gilding 2 frames oil gold 12 [shillings] Each – 1.4.0’ [£1.20 pence], Trustees of the British Museum

The method for preparing the ground for oil gilding was similar to that for water-gilding, but the bole was omitted, and the gold leaf was secured to the ground by means of a mordant made from linseed oil. The recipe for oil size varied, according to the drying time required and the glossiness of the gold.  Robert Dossie notes that the quicker drying size renders the gold

‘…less shining and glossy; which is esteemed a perfection in this kind of gilding: though, taking away the prejudice of fashion, I should think the most shining the most beautiful; and of the strongest effect’ [36].

Great care was taken to cover with oil size the entire surface to be gilded. Dossie explains that,

‘…care must be taken to pass the brush into all the hollows and cavities, if the subject be carved, or have any other way projecting parts. For where the size fails to be laid on, the gold will never take…’ [37]

The frame was then left to dry until the size became tacky. At this point it was ready for the gold leaf to be laid. Leaves were shaken onto the cushion, and, with the

‘…Pencil or Cotton, breathing on it, with which touch and take up the gold; lay it on the place you designed it for, pressing it close with the said Pencil or Cotton. Thus proceed, until the whole be finished and overlaid; then cut some leaves into small pieces, which may cover several parts of the Frame that have escaped guilding. Having laid it aside for a day, call for a large fine hogs-hair-brush; with this jobb and beat over the work gently, that the gold may be pressed close, and compelled to retire into all the uneven, hollow parts of the Carving’ [38].

Unknown framemaker, British, Louis XIV-style frame, 2nd quarter of 18^th century, carved wood, later oil gilding over original oil and water-gilding and sanded frieze, Yale Center for British Art, B1973.1.35FR

Although it was not possible to burnish oil gilding, Stalker and Parker conclude that, if all the rules are followed, the finished product

‘…’twill appear with a dazling and unusual lustre, and its beauty will be so durable, so well fortified against the injuries of wind and weather, that the attempts of many Ages will not be able to deface it’ [39].

In practice, 18^th century oil gilding today generally appears rather crusty and dull. Gradually, as the oil size dries, it shrinks, and cracks appear in the surface of the gilding. This is not necessarily undesirable, but should be regarded as typical of British oil gilding.

Early 18^th century ‘Hogarth’ frame, containing examples of various other patterns, Arnold Wiggins & Sons Ltd

With oil gilding it was possible to lay the gold leaf directly onto the wood, without preparing the ground with gesso.  This method was used in the 18^th century for the carved mouldings on polished black ‘Hogarth’ frames, commonly used for prints.

Ford Madox Brown (1821-93), The hayfield, 1855-56, o/panel, 24.1 x 33.3 cm., Tate Britain

It was also particularly favoured for the frames designed by the Pre-Raphaelite artists in the 19^th century – it was usual for these frames to be made of oak, so that the grain could be seen through the gilding.

According to Dossie,

‘The gilding with oil is the most easy and cheap, as well as most durable kind; and, therefore, is mostly applied to common purposes’ [40].

It was particularly durable in damp conditions, and so was used whenever gilding was to be exposed to the elements. It was also used widely in British interiors, which is probably the reason for the disparaging remarks made by the French Protestant, André Rouquet:

‘Carving in wood is at present in a much higher degree of perfection as well as esteem amongst the English, than it was formerly: but whether it be that they have not the right method of gilding, or whether the gold is ill prepared, their gilding on wood, as well as on lace, is far inferior in colour and in durability to that of other countries’ [41].

In France and Italy water-gilding was almost always employed for picture frames and interior mouldings. However, in Britain oil gilding was obviously appreciated for its own characteristic qualities, as the technique was practised by the best craftsmen of the day. In the 1730s Benjamin Goodison, Cabinetmaker to Frederick, Prince of Wales, made a frame for Van Dyck’s ‘Picture of Madm. Cantecroix’, described as:

‘A whole Length Picture frame carv’d and Guilt in Oyl Gold with a sanded ground ornamented with Shells £10.0.0’ [42].

Thomas Gibson (c.1680-1751), George Vertue, 1715-23, o/c, 73.5 x 50.8 cm., in original 18th century frame, Society of Antiquaries, London

Frame supplied by George Morant for Thomas Lawrence (1769-1830), Portrait of the 2^nd Earl of Harewood, 1823, but now framing Lawrence’s Portrait of George IV, 1822, o/c, 270.5 x 179 cm., detail, Wallace Collection

Certain patterns where a completely matte appearance was desired were also oil gilded; for example, the carved running pattern and corner-&-centre patterns of the first half of the 18^th century, or the broad 19^th century frames with very intricate compo mouldings, such as those supplied by George Morant and Son.

Silvering

In the second half of the 17^th century in Britain, silverleaf was frequently used for picture frames and furniture. John Smith noted that:

‘…the  Common Painters do now generally in guilding use more Silver than Gold, in most Works that are not much exposed to the Air’ [43].

British carved frame, 2^nd half 17^th century, detail where the later gilding has been stripped back to show the original silver finish beneath, Arnold Wiggins & Sons Ltd

However, few frames have survived with their original silvering; most have been regilded at a later date, although vestiges of the original silver can often be found beneath later gilding.

Silver leaf was applied by the same method as in water-gilding with gold leaf, but since it tarnished easily it was necessary to apply a lacquer to protect it from the moisture in the air. A number of recipes from the 17^th and 18^th century survive. Sometimes a yellow lacquer was applied to ‘give the Colour of Gold’ [44]. Stalker and Parker describe the process as follows:

‘If you are careful and neat in burnishing your silver, and have graced your Lacker with a true gold-colour, have with an even hand laid it no thicker in one place than another; then Matt and Reposse it, as you do burnisht gold; and unless narrowly surveyed, twill put a fallacy upon and deceive curious, discerning eyes’ [45].

Dossie gives a recipe for a yellow varnish or lacquer, and notes that,

‘…the varnish thus prepared attains a brown appearance; but, when spread on silver, gives it a colour greatly similar to that of gold. If, however, it should not be found after this proceeding that the force of yellow was sufficiently strong, an addition of more aloes must be made before the boiling be dis-continued’ [46].

Clearly, when used in this manner silver must have been ‘the poor man’s gold’, for gold leaf was much dearer than silver leaf. In 1660, Sir Roger Pratt noted that gold leaf was eight times more expensive than silver leaf.

‘Hilliard a gold beater in Black-horse Alley near Fleet bridge, Gold sold in books of 25 leaves four of which books are called a 100. Each of these books cost 2/- [10 pence], which is much upon the rate of 1d. per leaf, so that 100 of gold being 4 books will cost 8/-. These leafs are about 3 inches square. silver 3d per book’ [47].

Godfrey Kneller (1646/49-1723), Dr John Wallis, 1701, o/c, 94 x 57 ½ ins, University of Oxford

In 1702 Samuel Pepys sent the portrait of Dr Wallis by Kneller [which he was presenting to the University] to Oxford:

‘I have done my best towards it. Nor lett its comeing in a lackered frame lead you to thinke otherwise, for I could have sent it in the same with my Lord of Ormonde’s guilt for lesse mony. But I was ledd to it by the advice of Sir G. Kneller’s owne man, in consideration of its first luster being nothing inferiour to that of gold, and its being for ever kept soe (when time shall tarnish it) and the 20th part of the charge and trouble that gold will…’ [48].

However, silver was not always intended as counterfeit gold, for Dossie notes that, ‘in some cases, nevertheless, the appearance of silver is retained’ [49], and he gives recipes for clear varnish. Indeed, the metal silver was very much admired at that date. Versailles was famous for its grand suites of silver furniture and vessels, most of which were subsequently melted down to pay for Louis XIV’s wars. In Britain, silver furniture was made for the grandest houses.

Charles II silver pier glass, c.1676, 168 x 104 cm., Knole, Kent NT

At Knole there survives in the King’s Bedroom a magnificent suite of furniture, consisting of looking-glass, table and torchères made from oak entirely covered with sheets of embossed and chased silver [the pier table is by Gerrit Jensen, 1680-81].

Silvering appears to have gone out of fashion in the 18^th century, and was very rarely used.  Robert Dossie, writing in 1764, describing the technique of silvering, refers to ‘the lacquered frames of pictures, &c. which were formerly in use’ [50]. This was due not only to a change in taste for much more colourful gilded interior schemes, but also for practical reasons. Dossie notes that silver

‘…is nevertheless but seldom used, notwithstanding the effect would be very beautiful and proper in many cases; and there is an extreme good reason for such neglect of it.  This reason is its tarnishing in a very short time, and acquiring frequently, beside the general depravity of the whiteness, such spots of various colours, as render it very unsightly: and this tarnish and specking is not only the constant result of time, but will be often produced instantly by any extraordinary moisture in the air, or dampness, as well as by the fumes and effluvia of many bodies which my happen to approach it’ [51].

Pepys had also noticed this problem, writing that,

‘…time shall tarnish it… An observation confirmed by 40 yeares experience of my owne’ [52].

Thomas Chippendale (1718-79), a pair of silvered oval looking-glasses or girandoles, 1775, 173 x 98.5 cm., for Yellow Sitting Room, Harewood House, Christie’s, 5 July 2012, Lot 20

Thomas Chippendale’s furnishing scheme for the Yellow Damask Sitting Room at Harewood House for Edwin Lascelles in 1775 was a rare example of silvered furniture in an 18^th century interior. His account records that he supplied two large cornices, a pair of large, elegant-looking glasses, two girandoles and a large circular table… [the girandoles (above) described as:

‘2 Exceeding neat & Rich Carved Gerandoles
with ornaments and Treble Branches highly
finished in burnished Silver and varnished and
wrought Pans and Nossels silvered &c £40′ [53]]

Although this interior scheme no longer remains intact, one can gain an impression of its original appearance from the descriptions of the items in the accounts, and examination of the individual pieces. The ensemble included ten cabriole chairs, a large matching sofa and two bergères, all

‘richly Carved neatly Japann’d yellow and white and Covered with your [yellow] Damask’ [54]

[This damask, it] might be presumed was the same yellow silk damask used to hang the walls. The wall fabric itself was edged with

‘…368 ft very rich Antique Border’d Carved in wood and finished in Burnished silver and varnished’ [55].

British carved and silvered frames: from the outside, a panel frame; a panel frame with gadrooned reposes, and an oval Louis XIII-style bunched leaf frame; second half 17^th century, Arnold Wiggins & Sons Ltd

Since few frames survive in their original silver, it is difficult today to appreciate the effect of a room hung with silvered frames. Even those lacquered with yellow varnish have a different hue from gold.

Silvered frames in the Great Hall, Parham House. Photo: Parham House Instagram @parham_house_gardens

A rare example is found in the Great Dining Hall at Parham House, Sussex, which is hung with Elizabethan portraits, reframed in the 17^th century, in carved and silvered panel (‘Lely’) frames. These retain their original silvering, and are an extraordinarily fine set.

Gold beating

Book of the Dead of Neferrenpet Kartana, 19th Dynasty (1292-1189 BC), papyrus; Titles/epithets include: Head Goldsmith; Lady of the House; Chantress of Amun; Trustees of the British Museum https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/Y_EA9940-2

The craft of goldbeating is obviously as ancient as that of gilding, but its history is patchy, and little is known about the individuals employed in the trade. The most complete account is given in Leaves of gold, by H.L. Hunter & Cecil Whiley, published in 1951 [56].

In 1619 the goldbeaters, who numbered fewer than thirty, were incorporated by Royal Charter. This provided protection from foreign competition, and gave them the sole right to practise their craft and sell their wares in the City of London.  Formerly, most gold and silver leaf had been imported from abroad, and the new law created problems for those employed in the gilding trades. In 1623, a petition was presented to Parliament by the Cutlers, Painter-Stainers and Bookbinders, protesting against the goldbeaters’ monopoly.  Their chief complaints were that the goldbeaters were charging

‘…higher rates and prices than heretofore’, and that ‘the said foliat’ was ‘more thinner and deceitfuller than the same was made before so as the same doth sooner decay and fade in wearing’ [57].

Niccolo di Giacomo, illuminator, St Peter and a goldbeater, cutting from a register of creditors of a Bolognese lending society, Bologna, c.1390s, MS M 1056 12, The Morgan Library & Museum

The goldbeaters defended themselves by saying that,

‘the mystery of goldbeating hath been an ancient and settled trade within this kingdome many hundred years, as by ancient Records ready to be shewed forth may appeare’.

They denied threatening

‘…the Complainants to raise the prices’, saying that the cost for gold leaf was ‘not above the rate of 15 shillings the hundred [75 pence] and for silver not above 3 shillings the hundred [15 pence]…’

Finally, they argued that,

‘…the gold and silver foliate made since the said incorporation is as large and thick and as pure substantiall and workmanlike as the same was at any time before, and for the purenesse and goodnesse thereof is without all exception’ [58].

Unfortunately, little more is heard of this dispute, and we do not know how it was resolved.

N.N. (fl. 17^th century), The gold beater Nicklaus Krafft, 1685, Amb. 279.2 °, Folio 158 recto (Landauer I), Die Hausbücher der Nürnberger Zwölfbrüderstiftungen

The identity of goldbeaters in the 17^th century remains largely obscure. Few are known by name, although there is the Hilliard mentioned by Sir Roger Pratt (mentioned earlier), and a certain John More, a goldbeater who signed a contract in 1696 to supply

‘…Thirty Two Thousand of… double Gold every Thousand of Gold weighing one with another one with another one ounce ffine Gold withough Alloy…’ [59]

…for the gilding of the carved work at the east end of the choir in St Paul’s Cathedral, a task which he agreed to perform in five weeks.

By the middle of the 18^th century those involved with the craft were still ‘but few in number’ [60], and R. Campbell noted that,

‘…the Trade is not over-and-above profitable to the Master, is very laborious to the Journeyman, and requires a Lad to have his Joints pretty well knit before he enters, but his Genius may be as low as can be conceiv’d’ [61].

The hours are

‘…from six to eight, a Journeyman will sometimes earn 18s a week [90 pence], and to set him up as Master he must have at command £100 or £50 at least’ [62].

Thomas Mortimer’s Universal Director of 1763 listed only eight principal Masters in the trade:

Bemman, Benjamin. Duke-street, Lincoln’s-inn fields
Brown, Richard, Long-acre
Cupers and Smith. Old Bailey
Evans, Thomas. Long-acre
Shelto,_______. Shoe-lane
Wickstead,_______. Compton-street, Soho
White, Henry. Long-acre
White, John. Scalding-alley, Poultney [63]

‘The gold-beater’, from The Book of Trades, or Library of the Useful Arts, Part II, published 1811, printed for R. Phillips, London, Internet Archive

The numbers involved in the trade increased enormously until the middle of the 19^th century, when a severe depression hit it. In 1886, a Royal Commission was set up to examine its causes. The report of the committee noted that,

‘Thirty-five years ago…[the trade] employed at least 2,000 men in the United Kingdom in comfort and respectability. About that time, the duty of Gold Leaf was remitted, and the importation of Foreign manufactured Leaf commenced. At the present time, such is the depressed state of the Trade, caused solely by the large and increasing importation, that on the 9^th September, 1885, there were but 400 men and boys in work, and even these but partially employed’ [64].

The imported leaf was cheaper due to lower production costs abroad, but was also of inferior quality. An article in The Times on 14^th April 1886 acknowledged that, although

‘… English goldbeaters are pre-eminent throughout the world and produce the very best Gold Leaf on the market… the public cannot so easily distinguish qualities in Gold Leaf, and are therefore more readily attracted by mere cheapness’ .

A sad tale of decline for this ancient craft.

The techniques of goldbeating

The goldbeater, engraving in Christoph Weigel, Ständebuch Beruf, ‘Handwerk: Goldschmied: Blattgold’, 1698, Deutsche Fotothek

‘Theophilus, who is Rugerus’, libri III. de Diversis artibus: seu, Diversarum artium schedula, translated by Robert Hendrie as Encyclopaedia of Christian Art of the XIth Century, 1847, Book I, Ch. 24, ‘Of gold leaf’

Gold was beaten by the ancients, but not to the degree of thinness achieved later. The earliest complete record of the method of beating gold which has survived is that made by Theophilus or Rugerus, priest and monk, in the Encyclopaedia of Christian art of the XIth century. [In the following chapter, ‘Of laying on the gold’] He describes gold leaf so thin that

‘…you must beware of a current of air and refrain from breathing, because if you blow you lose the leaf and with difficulty recover it’.

Cennino Cennini expanded upon this in 1437:

‘Let me tell you that for the gold which is laid on flats they ought not to get more than a hundred leaves out of a ducat, whereas they do get a hundred and forty-five… If you want to be sure of the gold, when you buy it get it from someone who is a good goldbeater; and examine the gold; and if you find it rippling and matte, like goat parchment, then consider it good…. for the delicate ornaments of the embellishment with mordants it ought to be very thin gold, and cobweb-like…’ [65]

Booklet of goldbeaters’ skins, c. 1870-1905, S. Maw, Son & Thompson, Aldersgate, London, and a modern example from Feinleder-Hoffmann, Stuttgart

The most important discovery, which enabled craftsmen to beat gold thinner than ever before, was that of ox’s intestines, or ‘goldbeaters’ skins’, which were used to interleave the sheets of gold in the last beating. The use of these skins is not mentioned in Theophilus’s account, but they were being used by craftsmen in the 17^th century, and probably much earlier. Their extraordinary properties are described by Robert Boyle in his essay of 1663, Of Mens Great Ignorance of the uses of Natural things:

‘For one would scarce imagine that from so gross and foul a Body as the ‘intestinum rectum’ of an Oxe or Cow, there should be obtain’d a transparent Substance, more thin by far than Paper; and yet of so great a firmness and toughness, as is scarce at all credible to those that have not been (as I have) convinc’d of it by Experience. But tis certain that some of our Goldbeaters in London, and perhaps not these only, do, by cleansing and otherwise preparing the above mentino’d nasty gut of an Oxe, obtain exceeding fine Membranes, some of which I keep by me, that though clear and strangly thin, are yet of such tenacity, that when the thin Plates of Gold are put between them, or in their Folds, the force of a man frequently striking them, with a vast Hammer made of purpose, almost as heavy as he can well lift up, does usually, as I have seen with some wonder, attenuate and dilate the included Gold, without being able to break those so fine Skins’ [66].

George M. Whiley, 31 books of gold leaf, Sworders Fine Art Auctioneers, 24 July 2018, Lot 84

Different colours of gold leaf were produced by alloying the gold in varying quantities with other metals (a detailed account of all the processes is given in Charles Tomlinson’s Illustration of Useful Arts…):

‘The goldbeater uses pure gold mixed with various proportions of silver or copper, to obtain different colours… and of these there are about thirteen, namely: fine gold, red, pale red, extra deep, deep, orange, lemon, deep pale gold, pale, pale pale, deep party, party, and white. The deeper colours are alloyed with copper, the middle colours with silver and copper, and the pale golds with silver only’ [67].

Denis Diderot (1713-84) et D’Alembert (1717-83), ‘Batteur d’or’, Plate II, l’Encyclopédie…, 1777-79, University of Michigan

Once again Diderot provides the best engraved images of the traditional tools used. First, the metals were heated in a crucible, fused together, and cast into a flat, oblong ingot, which was flattened into a ribbon by passing it between two rollers. This ribbon was then cut into square inches and placed between sheets of tough paper in a packet called a ‘cutch’.

‘The packet is then beaten for 20 minutes with a 17-lb hammer on a smooth block of marble well supported from below… the cutch is so elastic that the hammer bounds off from it, and lightens the labour of the beater, who turns the packet over from time to time, to equalise the force, and occasionally bends it to and fro, to prevent the gold from sticking to the paper… The beating is continued until the one-inch squares are spread out into four-inch squares’ [68].

These were removed from the cutch, and each leaf was cut into four with a knife.

‘These are put between leaves of a tool, made of goldbeaters skin, called a shoder. This is enclosed in parchment cases, and beaten for 2 hours with a 9-lb hammer, until the squares of gold are spread out nearly to the size of the skin’ [69].

Goldbeaters shop sign, from George M. Whiley’s workshop; removed in 1914 and given to Museum of London

The leaves, which were now very delicate, were lifted from the shoder with a pair of boxwood pincers, quartered with a piece of cane, and lifted into a

‘…mould of goldbeaters skin and beaten as before, when the squares again expand nearly to the size of the skin, and the process of beating is considered at an end. This last beating requires skill. During the first hour the hammer is directed chiefly on the centre of the mould. This causes the edges of the leaves to crack, but they unite again when beaten. During the second hour, when the gold is the 150,000^th of an inch in thickness, it allows the light to pass through. If the gold be pure, or but slightly alloyed the transmitted light is of a green colour; but pale violet if highly alloyed with silver. The mould is beaten during 4 hours with a 7-lb hammer’ [70].

Finally, each leaf from the mould was cut with a waggon to remove the ragged edges, and lifted into books of rouged tissue paper, each containing 25 leaves of gold. The size of the finished leaf was 3 ¼ inches square.

As in gilding, the weather could be a problem for goldbeaters.

‘The process of goldbeating is considerably influenced by the weather. In wet weather, the skins grow somewhat damp, and in this state make the extension of the gold more tedious; the French are said to dry and press them at every time of using; with care not to over-dry them, which would render them unfit for further service. Our workmen complain more of frost, which appears to affect the metalline leaves themselves: in frost, a gold leaf cannot easily be blown flat, but breaks, wrinkles, or runs together’ [71].

Today when gold is beaten, a number of the processes have been mechanized.

Restoration

The restoration of gilded surfaces has been practised for centuries, and we are left today with the legacy of these treatments. Gilded surfaces easily became damaged and dirty, and it was necessary to repair the. We frequently read of this repair work in craftsmen’s bills of the 18^th century; for example, Samuel Norman, working at Petworth in the 1760s, charged for

‘Cleaning and refreshing the Gilding to all the picture frames in the Dining Parlour’ [72].

The techniques of restoration which he employed have not been passed down to us, but 19^th century craftsmen’s manuals do contain notes on restoration.

Workshop Receipts by Ernest Spon, published in 1884, advises that,

‘… burnished gilding cannot be cleaned with water, though oil gold may.
…Burnished Gilt Frames -… Old burnished work must be cleaned with great care… clean the gilding by passing a clean sponge dipped in gin and water, lightly over the surface…
Cleaning Gilt Frames – Gilt frames may be cleaned by simply washing them with a small sponge, wet with urine, hot spirits of wine, or oil of turpentine, not too wet…’ [73].

In many cases, however, the treatment simply consisted of regilding the surface entirely, and the large number of 19^th century trade cards offering regilding services testify to this common practice. In many cases, new gilding was laid over the old, and one regularly finds picture frames with several layers of gilding. Some other treatments were rather drastic:

‘Proceed to wash off all the old gold… A piece of cloth will be found to be the best thing to clean off the old gold, as there is more friction than in a sponge, but the sponge will be useful when the gold is removed to carefully go over the frame. If the frame has been varnished or gilt in oil, glass paper must be used till the gold is all removed, when a slight wash over to remove all the remaining particles of dust will be advisable’ [74].

1 Cross-section of sample from British frame, last quarter 18^th century, original water-gilding: a) natural chalk-based gesso; b) yellow clay; c) red bole containing iron oxide & graphite; d) gold
2 Cross-section of sample from British frame, 2nd half 17^th century, original silvering & lacquer: a) natural chalk-based gesso; b) grey bole containing graphite; c) silver; d) pale lacquer
3 Cross-section of sample from British frame, 2^nd half 17^th century, silvered with later layers of oil gilding & gold paint: a) natural chalk-based gesso; b) grey bole containing graphite; c) silver leaf (tarnished); d) lacquer; e) second gesso; f) Japan size containing a resin & yellow pigment (probably chrome yellow & thus 19^th or 20^th century in date); g) gold; h) gold-coloured metallic paint. Arnold Wiggins & Sons

Careful examination will often reveal the history of gilded surfaces.  For instance, one can often see the glint of original water-gilding or silver beneath the cracked surface of later oil gilding. This observation can be further assisted by examining samples under a microscope.

Today we are more concerned with conserving original surfaces, where they survive.  For this it is not only necessary to understand the original techniques, but to observe and appreciate the effects of the passage of time. Just as colours in an oil painting change over time, so too does the appearance of gilding and silvering. Where objects survive in good original state they provide us with important reference points for modern conservation.

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With grateful thanks to Michael Gregory. Michael is the head of the framemakers and frame dealers, Arnold Wiggins & Sons, specializing in framing Old Master, classic modern and contemporary paintings, and works on paper. He also lectures and publishes articles on the history of frames, and on the techniques, materials and craftsmanship of framemaking. He has held the Royal Warrant as Picture Framemaker to Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and to Her Majesty the Queen Mother.

With thanks, too, to The Internet Archive, which has made the life of an art historian incomparably easier

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[1] Pippa Mason and Michael Gregory, Of gilding: An essay on the traditional techniques of gilding, silvering and gold beating in England, was originally published by Arnold Wiggins & Sons Ltd. in 1989, ‘to accompany an exhibition of craftsmen’s tools and picture frames’, held at the Wiggins gallery from November to December 1989, and is republished here with the kind permission of Michael Gregory

[2] Quoted by Gervas Jackson-Stops in Courts and colonies: the William and Mary style in Holland, England and America, 1988, p. 38. See National Union Catalogue, London & Chicago, 1971, 160: 283

[3] Stephen Wren, Parentalia, or Memoirs of the Family of the Wrens, 1750, reprinted London and Chicago, 1971, 160: 283. Original edition

[4] Robert Dossie, A Handmaid to the Arts, vol. 1, 2^nd ed., London, 1764, p. vi

[5] T. A. Wolken, A General Description of All Trades: Digested in Alphabetical Order, London, 1747, p. 97

[6] Joseph Collyer, The Parent’s and Guardians’ Directory, and the Youth’s Guide in the Choice of Profession or Trade…, London, 1761, pp. 150-51

[7] Information with thanks to Pat Kirkham; see Furniture History, vol. XXIV, 1988, pp. 29 & 171

[8] R. Campbell, The London Tradesman: Being an Historical Account of all the Trades, Professions, Arts, both Liberal and Mechanic, London, 1747, p. 108

[9] Wolken, op. cit., p.102

[10] Ibid.

[11] R. Campbell, op. cit., p. 108

[12] John Stalker & George Parker, A Treatise of Japaning and Varnishing…, London, 1688, pp. 55-56

[13] Dossie, op. cit., vol. 2, 1758, p. 368

[14] Ibid., vol. 2, p. 378

[15] Jean- Felix Watin, L’Art du Peintre, Doreur, Vernisseur…, Paris, 1774, p. 150

[16] Stalker & Parker, op. cit., p. 57  https://archive.org/details/treatisejapanin00Stal/page/56/mode/2up

[17] Ibid.

[18] Ibid.

[19] Ibid.

[20] Dossie, op. cit., vol. 2, 1758, p. 381

[21] Thomas Sheraton, The Cabinet Dictionary, London, 1803 [no page is given for this quotation, and it does not appear in the only easily available digitized version (New York Public Library Digital Collections), under ‘Water Gilding’, p. 227]

[22] Watin, op. cit., p. 142-43

[23] Stalker & Parker, op. cit., p. 58

[24] Ibid.

[25] Ibid., pp. 60-61

[26] Lindsay Boynton, Nicholas Goodison, ‘Thomas Chippendale at Nostell Priory’, Furniture History, vol. 4, 1968, p. 25, letter 18, 11 January 1768

[27] Stalker & Parker, op. cit., p. 59

[28] Dossie, op. cit., vol. 2, 1758, p. 382

[29] Stalker & Parker, op. cit.

[30] Charles Henry Savory, The practical carver and gilder’s guide and picture frame maker’s companion, 1900, p. 67. For more on Savory’s book, see ‘Charles Henry Savory: The practical carver and gilder’

[31] Dossie, op. cit., p. 383

[32] Stalker & Parker, op. cit., p. 60

[33] West Sussex Record Office: Petworth House Archives: ‘The archives… contain a fine series of tradesmen’s bills from the late-18^th and 19^th centuries, which include bills from leading London suppliers’

[34] Dossie, op. cit., p. 377

[35] Quoted by Oliver Millar, Later Georgian Pictures in the Royal Collection, 1969, p. 94: Duchy of Cornwall MSS, vol. LIV (i)

[36] Dossie, op. cit., pp. 374-75

[37] Ibid.

[38] Stalker & Parker, op. cit., p. 56

[39] Ibid.

[40] Dossie, op. cit., pp. 372

[41] André Rouquet, The Present State of the Arts in England, 1755, p.70

[42] Reference supplied by Sir Oliver Millar. [The illustration of the Queen’s Ballroom in Windsor Castle, painted c.1817 by Charles Wild as one of the illustrations for Pyne’s History of the Royal Residences, 1816-19, shows the portrait hanging above the overmantel furthest from the viewer on the right-hand wall, but it has already been reframed, in an elaborate stained wood boiserie which is part of the panelled interior]

[43] John Smith, The Art of Painting in Oyl…, London, 1687, p. 73

[44] Ibid.

[45] Stalker & Parker, op. cit., p. 64

[46] Dossie, op. cit.

[47] The Architecture of Sir Roger Pratt: Charles II’s Commissioner for the rebuilding of London after the Great Fire, Oxford, 1928, p. 283; information from Ian Bristow

[48]  J. R. Tanner, ed.,  Private correspondence and miscellaneous papers of Samuel Pepys 1679-1703, 1926, vol. 2, p. 270, letter to Dr Charlett, 13 September 1702 

[49] Dossie, op. cit.

[50] Ibid.

[51] Ibid., p. 401

[52] Pepys, op. cit.

[53] Quoted by Christopher Gilbert, The life and work of Thomas Chippendale, 1978, Chippendale documents amongst the Harewood papers, 1 December 1775, London, p. 209

[54] Ibid.

[55] Ibid.

[56] [See also Christopher Davey, ‘Old Kingdom metallurgy in Memphite tomb images’, in Linda Evans, ed., Ancient Memphis: ‘Enduring is the perfection’, 2012]

[57] Guildhall Library: Beta, nos 49,50

[58] Guildhall Library: Beta, nos 29, 50

[59] Wren Society, vol. XVI, p. 25

[60] Thomas Mortimer, The Universal Director, 1763, p. 41

[61] R. Campbell, op. cit., p. 146

[62] Wolken, op. cit., p. 109

[63] Mortimer, op. cit., p. 41

[64] Information from Barry Sitch, of George M. Whiley

[65] Cennino Cennini, Il libro dell’Arte, 1437, transl.  as The craftsman’s handbook by Daniel Thompson,1933 & 1960, pp. 84-85

[66] Robert Boyle, Of Mens Great Ignorance of the uses of Natural things, 1663, 36-37

[67] Charles Tomlinson, Illustration of Useful Arts, Manufacturers, and Trades, 1866, p. 54

[68] Ibid.

[69] Ibid.

[70] Ibid.

[71] Dr William Lewis, Commercium philosophico-technicum; or, The Philosophical Commerce of the Arts, 1763, section III, p. 50

[72] Samuel Norman, Carver; Receipted bills of tradesmen, &c.; Accounts: household and cellar; Petworth House Archives; West Sussex Record Office

[73]  Ernest Spon, Workshop Receipts for Manufacturers, Mechanics, Scientific Amateurs, 5 vols, 1883-92, vol. 1,1884, p. 304

[74] Savory, op. cit., p. 77