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A Leaving Sale

Posted on 02 August 2018

By now many of you will be aware that this website will be closing during the last week of August due to an excessively large  increase in hosting fees, which are completely unsustainable.

Although unfortunately we will lose many of the features we have now, much of our Tunbridge Ware stock will still be viewable on the BADA website and once the changeover has been completed it can be accessed via www.amherstantiques.co.uk.

We will also be continuing with our monthly E-Newsletters and will aim to keep you well informed with our activities. If you do not already subscribe to this, but would like to keep in touch please email us and we will add your details to our Mailing.

 

Whilst we are busy making all these changes, we thought that a web site 'Leaving Sale' might not go amiss. We are therefore offering you 25% off any item on our web site, which is now showing a ticket price. If you can see a price displayed, then that price will be reduced by 25%.

If you would like to make a purchase, please email us or phone 01892 725552 to confirm the amount payable with free postage in the UK. This offer will last until 25th August.

  

Great Exhibitions

Posted on 28 June 2018

It is wonderful that the north of England is having its very own Great Exhibition this summer with drone displays and virtual dinosaurs roaming Newcastle. This has got us thinking about The Great Exhibition of 1851, which for those interested in antiques today represents something of a watershed, when new materials, ideas and inventions were brought to public attention.

 

Whilst we mostly think of the very fine items that were exhibited in 1851, the exhibition itself generated production of modest souvenirs such as paper telescopic viewers showing Queen Victoria at the opening ceremony in Hyde Park in May of that year. The demand for souvenirs also continued once Sir Joseph Paxton’s glass pavilion had been re-located to Sydenham Hill in 1854. Our Object of the Month for July is one such momento – a simple whitewood painted pot with a printed view of The Crystal Palace at Sydenham. 

 

It is however for fine workmanship that The Great Exhibition is really known. It proved to be a real opportunity to promote the Tunbridge Ware industry with Edmund Nye, and Henry Hollamby exhibiting fine examples of their work. Both makers exhibited views of Bayham Abbey Ruin and the marquetry found on the blocks featuring tropical butterflies and birds from the Nye/Barton partnership all resulted from 1851.

 

A fine piece of craftsmanship that we have recently discovered is a grand piano by Schneider of Vienna inlaid with Tunbridge Ware floral borders, reminiscent of Nye’s work. It was recently auctioned in Kent from the Colt Clavier Collection. According to Colt it had been exhibited in the Austrian section at the Great Exhibition. 

 

We are now wondering if there are other un-identified and undiscovered examples of Tunbridge Ware inlay decorating exhibits from The Great Exhibition.  Who knows what might turn up!

Barton Inkstands

Posted on 22 May 2018

 

 

Thomas Barton’s frequently labelled his work but even in the absence of a label, his Tunbridge Ware is amongst the easiest to identify. Distinctive designs and choice of veneers, often including a liberal amount of green wood that has been attacked by fungus, are characteristics of much of his work.

 

Our Object of the Month for June is one such example. Veneered in coromandel and with typical Barton borders, this inkstand has many of the familiar characteristics associated with his work.This has got us thinking about Barton’s inkstands and how many we have seen over the years. We have therefore chosen a few from our image library, which we hope you might enjoy.

 

 

 

Barton seemed to favour fairly large rectangular inkstands with one or two inkwells. It is interesting to note that the same geometric border occurs on many of his inkstands.

 

 

 

 

The border on this inkstand is however, a scrolling foliage pattern, very typical of that used by Edmund Nye and probably inherited by Barton, when he took over Nye’s business in 1863. 

 

 

 

 

 

Less frequently found is this small rectangular inkstand illustrated below with a detachable carrying handle, doubling as a seal and with two containers for sealing wax. 

 

 

  

 

The most unusual Barton inkstand that we have owned is this fine hexagonal example, again with the same geometric border, which features on a couple of the inkstands above. 

 

 

 

 

We are interested to note that we do not have an example of a small circular or very small rectangular inkstand by Barton. Have we just missed owning one? Or did he simply not make them? I am sure someone will let us know!

Royal Connections

Posted on 03 May 2018

 

With May being the month of a royal wedding we have decided that our Object of the Month should have a royal connection.

It is surprising that since the earliest mention of Tunbridge Ware in the late 17th century there are relatively few known examples with royal connections but pieces which immediately spring to mind are the views of Windsor Castle and those with the Prince of Wales Feathers, the latter being created to mark the birth of Prince Edward in 1841. Our Object of the Month, a matchbox cover inlaid with a crown, does however have a connection with a significant royal event, which proved to be a defining moment for the House of Windsor.

Thomas Littleton Green, working from the very last Tunbridge Ware Manufactory in Rye, East Sussex between 1931 & 1939 created the design in anticipation of Edward VIII’s coronation. The letters ‘ER’ and the date ‘1937’ flanked the centrally placed crown. With the abdication of Edward, Green adapted his design for the coronation of King George VI by replacing the letters ‘ER’ with ‘GR’.

Although this is a modest example of Tunbridge Ware, it is a surprisingly unusual one. It is in fact the first time we have ever owned a piece with this crown. Now we can’t help wondering if any mosaics with ’ER’ actually slipped through the net and whether there are any pieces with that image in circulation today.

More On Nails

Posted on 20 April 2018

 With grateful thanks to a knowledgeable collector of needlework accessories, we are most pleased to be able to add to the information in our previous blog post, We're Trying To Nail It.

The following information is based on some of the thoughts and observations we have received on the use of nails as a measurement:

Nail tapes were usually marked by hand whereas inch tapes were usually printed. Therefore if it is possible to establish when the printing of sewing tapes began, it may prove to be a clue to when the use of nails as a measurement began to decline.

The development of needlework boxes may also have a bearing on the change from nails to inches. After the 1840's needlework boxes were rather different in style and shape from earlier ones and a movement towards mass production might have heralded the change over to inches. A maker of many measuring tapes, Edward Dean, advertised himself as a 'tailor's measure maker' between 1846 & 1851. By 1861 he advertised that he was a 'measuring tape maker'. Unfortunately to date we have not been able to establish if and when he marked in nails or inches.

Nails proved to be a popular means of measuring accurately. If you had a tape or ribbon, which was a yard long, it could with four folds in half, give you a nail  measure (2.25 inches). Trying to fold a yard of tape to measure an inch accurately is much less easy, if not impossible.

Nails as one sixteenth of a yard were still used on dressmaking paper patterns as yardage requirements until quite late in the 20th century.

Our needlework specialist finished her comments with some remarks about linear measurements, which she has gleaned over a number of years and which she feels are likely to be true. Namely a wise housekeeper in times gone by would have kept a yardstick by her door, so when the pedlar called, his measure could be checked. Some of the pedlar's yardsticks could be 'a bit short one end', which is possibly the origin of the extra bit at each end of modern wood and plastic rulers.

 

We're Trying To Nail It

Posted on 03 April 2018

 

We have decided to feature the fitted needlework box, which appeared on our latest stock list, as the Object of the Month for April as this gives us the opportunity to discuss ‘nails’more fully . This is the unit of cloth measurement, which is used on the tape measure in the box and which can be found on many tape measures from the 19th century.

Last month we said in our description of the needlework box and its fittings that the nail, which equals a sixteenth of a yard – 2.25inches, was probably named after the practice of knocking brass nails into the counter of fabric shops as a measuring guide. But on reflection, we think this is too simplistic and that the nail as a unit of measurement goes back many centuries, to the time before a universal system of measurement existed. It evidently was in common use in Elizabethan England.  Shakespeare has Petruchio complaining in The Taming of the Shrew about the quantity of fabric in Katherine’s gown:

“Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble,

Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!”

It was only with the introduction of the Weights and Measures Act of 1824 in Britain that uniformity was achieved with the introduction of the British Imperial System. Prior to that weights and measures tended to be imprecise, with many measurements based on human morphology such as a foot, hand, pace or nail.  Some descriptions of a nail suggest that it is the distance between the thumbnail and the joint in the thumb, which could give rise to any number of different measurements!

We are always pleased to find Tunbridge Ware tape measures marked in nails, especially when they are in their original needlework boxes. We also find a number that are not now associated with a box and perhaps never were. But as yet, we cannot establish at what date the tapes were no longer marked in nails.

Do any of the Tunbridge Ware needlework enthusiasts know the answer to this? If so, please help us nail it and let us know.

We’re Looking for a Piano…..

Posted on 26 February 2018

 ......With apologies to the musical, Salad Days

Dealers and collectors of antiques will often tell you that they never forget the things they failed to buy. We are no exception to this. We have never forgotten the Tunbridge Ware needlework box in the shape of a grand piano, which we turned down shortly after we had started dealing.

At the time it had seemed expensive and we also did not know exactly what we were looking at. Some 30 years later we realize just how rare it was; it has taken us all this time to find another! We are delighted to offer it to you as our Object of the Month for March.

This has got us thinking about these piano boxes and their Palais Royal counterparts from Paris. By comparison with Tunbridge Ware examples Palais Royal boxes are relatively common but nevertheless still hard to find, sought after and highly prized, when fitted with beautiful needlework tools of elaborately carved and engraved mother of pearl.

The location in Paris known as the Palais Royal was built in the 17th century as a private house for Cardinal Richelieu. On his death in 1642 the property passed to King Louis XIII and acquired the name Palais Royal. It eventually became the property of the Duke of Orleans and in 1784 an arcade was opened in its gardens.

This essentially was a shopping precinct with a parade of about 150 shops, cafés, salons, museums and a theatre. All classes patronized the parade with the nobility and gentry mixing freely with the lower orders. The Palais Royal became one of the most important market places and social venues, offering everything from gambling and prostitution to the most exclusive shops, selling amongst other things exquisite Palais Royal boxes.

This description of the Palais Royal immediately brings to mind the Parade in Tunbridge Wells, which albeit on a smaller scale in a provincial setting, provided a very similar environment for trade and social gatherings. Like the Palais Royal, the Parade was an important market place, although its souvenirs were generally of a more modest nature.

Palais Royal boxes were of such quality that they soon became sought after throughout Europe, with needlework boxes in particular, on well-to-do ladies’‘must have’ lists. The miniature grand piano was an especially appealing shape. Unfortunately due to war and the uncertain political situation in France these boxes were often difficult for English ladies to obtain.

 It is not therefore surprising that the ever-enterprising Tunbridge Ware makers saw an opening. In the early 19th century they emulated their French counterparts by producing a piano-shaped needlework box, although judging by their present-day scarcity, very few were made.

We certainly are very thrilled that we have found our piano, which unlike the one we saw some 30 years ago, still retains some of its Tunbridge Ware fittings – a real bonus. We love it and hope you do too!

A Red Letter Day: A Mystery Solved

Posted on 03 February 2018

 Like many collectors we find Tunbridge Ware a fascinating subject, not least because of all the unanswered questions it can pose.  So as and when the occasion arises we like to ask questions in our blog, hoping that someone, somewhere will come up with a credible answer.

Sadly this rarely occurs but earlier this week we had a red-letter day, when we received an email about our Object of the Month for February and our last blog post, Cottages With No Name. Now thanks to Tunbridge Ware enthusiast, Kevin Mansfield, the mystery surrounding the location has been resolved.

Kevin has discovered that the view with the small, beamed cottage has an interesting story attached to it. In 1847 it was announced that Shakespeare’s Birthplace was to be auctioned. This focused considerable public attention on the provincial Midlands location of Stratford upon Avon, a fact that did not escape those running tourist locations in the metropolis.

In response to this, Royal Surrey Geological Gardens, which provided a 15-acre entertainment area for Londoners, decided to add a Shakespearian element to their attractions. Alongside exotic animals, balloon rides, boat trips, and even a dramatic re-enactment of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, London’s very own Shakespeare’s Birthplace was replicated.

In July 1847 The Times reported that a perfect facsimile of the cottage had been built, complete with borrowed period furnishings, and that this was now open to the public. This remained a popular tourist attraction for some time but was probably dismantled, when the gardens lost their appeal, with interest switching to The Great Exhibition in 1851.

One of the money raising schemes attached to the replica cottage was the sale of prints – which show a cottage identical to that appearing on the Tunbridge Ware view on our Object of the Month. It therefore suggests that there are indeed two views of Shakespeare’s Birthplace. One of the replica cottage, dating to circa 1847-50 and the other later known version, probably produced for Shakespeare’s tercentenary in 1864.

To read more about this fascinating discovery please go to https://www.shakespeare.org.uk/explore-shakespeare/blogs/victorian-replica-shakespeares-birthplace/

 

 

 

Cottages With No Name

Posted on 01 February 2018

 

The view on our Object of the Month for February is an unusual one in that, unlike most post 1860 views, it cannot be readily identified. The image is of a pair of small half- timbered cottages, which the late Ken King suggested in his 1981 listing, were in Tonbridge. But to date no positive identification has been made.

It is of course perfectly possible that the building no longer exists. But on the other hand it could also be that it never existed but was an adaptation of another view.

Following the publicity surrounding the restoration of Shakespeare’s Birthplace and the tercentenary of Shakespeare’s birth in 1864, Henry Hollamby was probably encouraged to mark the event with a Tunbridge Ware view. As a result he created a mosaic of the half-timbered building, which showed considerable detail, comparable to that found on his view of The Pantiles. Indeed it seems that the two views were intended as a pair as they are often found as panels in matching frames.

Hollamby’s view of Shakespeare’s Birthplace was well received at its time of production. An article in the Sussex Advertiser of 1882 tells us that this view attracted the attention of the Prince of Wales at the Bath & West of England Show at Tunbridge Wells in 1881.

We therefore suggest that the cottages with no name, which have very similar detail to Shakespeare’s Birthplace, especially in the beams on the front, were in fact an adaptation of the Shakespeare view. The acclaim, which Hollamby received for his Shakespeare view may well have inspired him to adapt it to produce a view of rustic but imaginary cottages.

If of course you can positively identify the cottages with no name, we would be delighted to know!

Turning Over A New Leaf

Posted on 16 January 2018

 

Traditionally January is the month when we often decide to turn over a new leaf. Frequently we make resolutions to improve; whether it is to become slimmer, richer, wiser, or whether to tackle any other aspect of our lives that we feel is wanting.

Our blog about January’s Object of the Month is not however demanding that we mend our ways but is merely to point out that many of us have erroneously described the Tunbridge Ware implements for handling paper as letter openers or page-turners.

Ian Spellerberg’s book Reading & Writing Accessories: A Study of Paper Knives, Paper Folders, Letter Openers and Mythical Page Turners explains quite clearly that the so called ‘letter opener or page-turner’ with a wide blade and a blunt edge is designed to flatten the creases of a book’s uncut pages and then be used to gently tear them apart.

In Victorian times uncut pages were common in books and by the end of the 19th century the paper knife was nearly always included as part of a complete set of desk accessories. The smoother the surface of the paper knife, the easier it was to cut folds in the leaves of a book.  Highly polished examples of hard wood such as the ebony to be found on our Object of the Month, were ideally fit for purpose. The longer paper knives were also eminently suitable for newspapers, which too often arrived with their pages uncut.

So in Victorian times, should you have wished to turn over a new leaf, it was the paper knife and not the page-turner that would have been your essential implement.

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