Sofa; 1795-1805; Salem, Massachusetts (carving attributed to Samuel McIntire). Robert Adam, at the beginning of the classical revolution in taste, declared himself for “delicacy, gaiety, grace, and beauty” in all that concerned the background and furnishing of rooms. Although his influence on American taste was indirect, it was a force in the early Federal period. The maker of tJlis sofa retained the form common to the Chippendale era. But by straightening the lines a little to make them more gentle, by lightening the thickness of each element, and (in the Hepplewhite manner) by using a facing of mahogany to call attention to the upper line of the back and the front of the arms, he achieved unity as well as the delicacy, grace, and beauty which Adam sought. With crisp, precise motifs-basket of fruit, paterae, floral medallions, acanthus leaves, and streamers of grapes and their leaves-the carver attained surface movement and enlivened the lines of the whole.

Only one other known sofa of the Federal period is comparable to this one. Believed to have been made for Elias Hasket Derby of Salem and now in the Karolik Collection of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, it too is richly carved (Edwin J. Hipkiss, Eighteenth-Century American Arts: The M. and M. Karolik Collection, 1941, PI. 120, pp. 182-183). On both, the long sweeping line of the back is edged in wood with carved ornament in the center-on the Karolik sofa a pair of cornucopias, on this one a free-standing basket of fruit with flowers spilling along the rail. Such baskets of fruit were not uncommon in eighteenth-century design, but the motif was used more frequently in the Salem area than elsewhere in the United States, and may well have been popularized there by Samuel McIntire. Although lacking tlle star-punched, or “Salem snowflake,” background, the omament relates closely in kind and execution to that on the great chest-on-chest made by William Lemon and carved by Samuel McIntire for Madame Elizabeth Derby West (Hipkiss, PI. 41, p. 75).

The legs at the front corners are tapered only on their inside edges, and the spade feet are ebony; these are calculated subtleties to indicate strength and stability.

Dimensions: height 39 inches, length 88, depth 29.5. Materials: mahogany; seat rails and four medial braces, birch; corner blocks, white pine; upholstery, pale blue satin with classical medallions, pearls, and drapery in white, French, Directoire style, c. 1800.

Sideboard; 1795-1805; New York (illustrated in the catalogue of the Girl Scouts Luan Exhibition, 1929, PI. 716). The following statements of Robert Adam (The Works in Architecture of Robert and James Adam, Esquires, No.1, 1773, p. 3) regarding architectural composition epitomize one aspect of his aesthetic theory which revolutionized English taste in the second half of the eighteenth century:

“Movement is meant to express, the rise and fall, the advance and recess, with other diversity of form, in the different parts of a building, so as to add greatly to the picturesque of the com¬position. For the rising and falling, advancing and receding, with the convexity and concavity, and other forms of the great parts. have the same effect in architecture, that hill and dale, fore-ground and distance, swelling and sinking have in landscape: That is, they serve to produce an agreeable and diversified contour, that groups and contrasts like a picture, and creates a variety of light and shade, which gives great spirit, beauty, and effect to the composition.”

Few other pieces of American furniture show so well such a variety of surface contours against a background of advancing and receding forms as does this great sideboard. Its conception is ceremonial, useful but not domestic.

Two years after a “Celleret Sideboard, with an Elliptic Middle and Ogee on each Side” was first listed and illustrated in the 1793 edition of The Cabinet-Makers’ London Book of Prices, a similar entry appeared in a Philadelphia edition. A year later, it was included in the first New York issue with a basic price for the simplest version of nine pounds, twelve shillings for labor-one of the higher quotations for making a piece of furniture. Although two extra legs cost only an additional seven shillings for labor, few eight-legged sideboards survive today and apparently few were made. But this sideboard, which is longer than the standard model of six feet, has many other extras. Inlaid ellipses; astragal¬ended rectangles of satinwood; triple-string outlined panels of mahogany veneers on the body; inlaid “panels [of satinwood] with a gothic top, and a hollow bottom” on three sides of the front legs; inlaid flutes at the tops of the legs; extra drawers; and “a cupboard underneath the middle drawer with two doors, sweep [curved] front” and “stiles” on either side “worked round” would make this one of the most expensive pieces of American furniture to produce. Apparently only a few were willing to pay the price.

Although this sideboard might have been made in Connecticut, where a few eight-legged sideboards with local histories of ownership are known, the character of the ornament and the presence of ash as a secondary wood seem to favor a New York attribution despite the fact that no known labeled New York sideboard, of which there are several, helps to identify this one. But on other furniture forms made in New York, triple-string outlined panels, inlaid flutes, and astragal-ended and elliptical inlaid satinwood panels are found.

Dimensions: height 41inches, width 79.5, depth 28.5 Materials: mahogany; mahogany and satinwood veneers on white pine, and light and dark wood stringing; drawer linings, tulipwood; framing, white pine with ash strips under the top.

Cabriole armchair, painted white and gold; c. 1800; Philadelphia. This sumptuous painted armchair with upholstered back and carved and applied composition ornament highlighted with burnished gold was one of the most fashionable chairs when made. Hepplewhite called chairs with upholstered backs cabriole chairs, and this term seems to have been generally used. However, Sheraton called the type drawing-room chairs, and that name was re¬tained by the Philadelphia cabinetmakers Joseph B. Barry & Son when they had two of Sheraton’s armchairs re-engraved on their trade card (W. M. Hornor Jr., Blue Book Philadelphia Furniture, 1935, PI. 432). Of two related chairs, Plates 32 and 34 in his Drawing Book (1802), Sheraton remarked: “These chairs are finished in white and gold, or the ornaments may be japanned; but the French finish them in mahogany, with gilt mouldings.”

Mahogany furniture is commonly regarded today as being in the highest style, but it was not always so. In Jefferson’s inventory of the White House furnishings taken when he left the Presidency in 1809, twelve lots of chairs variously described as “crimson and Gold,” “blue and Gold,” “Gold and green,” and “black and Gold” are called fashionable; but the word does nol occur in a single listing of mahogany chairs, even those with “crimson damask bottoms.” The vogue for painted and gilt furniture was probably heightened by the popularity of French fumi• ture among United States leaders. From 1790 onward, Jefferson, Monroe, John Adams, and others acquired it while in France. Washington bought some at the dispersal of the effects of Count de Moustiers, the first French minister to the United States. Much of it was finished in gold leaf or painted white or gray and enlivened with gilt.

As early as 1787, William Long, “Cabinetmaker and Carver, Late of London,” announced in the Pennsylvania Packet of Philadelphia that he made “French Sophas in the modern taste, on as reasonable terms as them of the oldest fashion . . . Cabriole and French Chairs on reasonable terms.” Among Long’s stock advertised after his death in 1794 were “a few sets of fashionable elbow painted chairs” and “a set of Mahogany cabriole chairs.” Several factors point to Philadelphia as the place where this superb chair was made. The general outline and the stepped-down arms, although here fitted with pads, are comparable to those on other fine armchairs made in that city. Philadelphia chairs are frequently found with straight tapered and reeded legs with a drum at the top and a turned spade foot.

Dimensions: height 36.5 inches, width 2O.25, depth 18.25. Materials: ash (no secondary woods); upholstered in green tabaret, silk with moired and satin stripes.

Gentleman’s secretary; 1793-1805; Salem, Massachusetts. Label of Edmund Johnson (working c. 1793-1811). “This piece is intended for a gentleman to write at, to keep his own accounts, and serves as a library. The style of finishing is neat, and sometimes approaching to elegance, being at times made of satinwood, with japanned ornaments.” So wrote Sheraton of a form similar to this one, but with different details, entitled “Gentleman’s Secretary,” illustrated as Plate 52 in his Drawing Book. For a long time s~ch pieces of furniture as this have been called Salem desks or Salem secretaries. A dozen or more examples are known. Three, including this secretary, all with the label of Edmund Johnson, display the same form and concept of ornament. One of these, owned by Mrs. Walter Wright in 1926 (illustrated in Luke Vincent Lock¬wood, Colonial Furnitu1′e in America, 3rd ed., 1926, Vol. I, p. 376, Fig. XLVI), appears identical to this one except for variations in the stringing. The other secGretary, in the Henry Ford Museum (illustrated in ANTIQUES, February 1958, p. 169), substitutes heavier ebony line stringing on the pilasters for the light full-blown bellfowers and intervening ebony dots and pointed ovals seen on this example.

The use of single-line stringing of light wood or, sometimes, of triple stringing (ebony or stained holly between two white lines) to form panels is a feature frequently found on Salem and North Shore cabinetwork. Occasionally, on furniture feet of that area, as on the piece shown here, the stringing lines run straight down to the floor. The eagle finial, which is like that on the Wright secretary, and the brasses appear to be original. The brass, spired, ball-shape finials are probably replacements, as are the old drawer pulls stamped with a classical figure with a ship in the background.

Dimensions: height 94 inches, width 66.25, depth 18,5 Materials: mahogany and mahogany veneer inlaid with light and dark woods over white pine; secondary wood, white pine.

An Antiques Book Preview - September 1965

By Charles F. Montgomery, Senior research fellow, Henry Francis du Pont Winterthur Museum

SWEEPING CHANGES in American cabinetmaking and furniture styles closely parallel the emergence and coalescence of the thirteen American colonies into one nation. As self-reliant individuals and as craftsmen able to turn their hands to any task, some cabinetmakers, such as Stephen Badlam, held important posts as leaders in the Revolutionary Army; others, including David Evans, made tents and a hundred other necessities for the American forces. After the peace, and during the forty years now generally called the Federal era, the United States, still primarily an agricultural country, became increasingly concerned with manufacturing, commerce, and trade. American cabinetmakers were quick to take advantage of the opportunities in this time of growth and expansion as new markets for new products were created.

The first intimation of the stylistic changes that were about to occur in American furniture is found in the small desk upon which Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence in 1776. The line inlay in this small writing box (now in the Smithsonian Institution) made by Benjamin Randolph in Philadelphia was a harbinger of the neoclassical styles that became current almost immediately after the adoption of the Federal Constitution in 1788. The new nation was receptive to new ideas. Chippendale furniture was now old-fashioned in London (still the fashion capital for America), as clearly set forth by Archibald Alison in his Essays on the Nature and Principles of Taste (1790):

Strong and Massy Furniture is everywhere vulgar and unpleasing.

Some years ago every article of furniture was made in what was called the Chinese Taste … To this succeeded the Gothic Taste . . . The Taste which now reigns is that of the Antique. Everything we now use, is made in imitation of those models which have been lately discovered in Italy.

This was the result of the revolution in taste set in motion in the 1760’s by Robert Adam and his brothers whose innovations and designs incorporating classical ornament and emphasizing linear relationships had a pro¬found effeot upon architecture and every art and craft in England after about 1770. Although old forms lingered on, new patterns appeared each year thereafter in Lon¬don cabinet shops. Usually these were known in the trade by the names of their craftsmen inventors, such as “Buckley’s pattern” and “Curwen’s pattern.” Although to the public in this country and apparently in London the styles were anonymous, they were summarized and illustrated in The London Cabinet-Makers’ Book of Prices (for workmanship) and Hepplewhite’s The Cabinet¬Maker and Upholsterer’s Guide. Both were published in 1788! These two books and those of Thomas Sheraton published slightly later gave currency to the new styles in the United States. The book of prices, which appears to have been widely used, listed rates of pay for making all standard furniture forms with innumerable optional details. They thus provided the fundamentals of form and ornament with wide latitude” for individual interpretation. When in the 1790’s American price books incorporating demands for higher rates were published, the idea of Federal strength through union was not forgotten by the workmen. Imbued with the idea of freedom, the journeymen’s societies, really unions, appealed to their fellows in other cities and other crafts for support. In New York they even modeled their plea on the Declaration of Independence.

It is not easy to find a satisfactory name for these anonymous fashions in furniture which evolved for the most part in the shops of the cabinetmakers. As a result of the publications associated with the names of George and Alice Hepplewhite and Thomas Sheraton, the name of Hepplewhite has often been applied to the delicate inlaid and carved furniture with essentially linear forms of the 1780’s and the early 1790’s, and the name of Sheraton has been used to designate furniture first made about 1790, often employing turned or reeded supports and frequently with bowed (elliptic) and/ or hollowed fades. However, these names are confusing because there is considerable overlap in the styles associated with the two men-as would be expected since their books were issued at approximately the same time, and if, as I strongly suspect, both men were primarily reporters rather than creators of original styles. Unquestionably their books played an important part in the dissemination of London fashions, but I doubt that many of them were original to either Hepplewhite or Sheraton. This is a question that deserves a great deal of further study.

In the catalog of American Furniture: The Federal Period (1788-1825) I have adopted whenever possible the names actually used by the cabinetmakers themselves, and have attempted to approximate the actual dates of manufacture for each piece. I believe that the term “Federal furniture” is appropriate for these pieces. In Philadelphia, and perhaps elsewhere, furniture was made by the Federal Society of Cabinetmakers, and many pieces of the period were carved or inlaid with the American eagle, symbol of the Federal union. Also, appropriately for furniture with ornament and sometimes forms derived from Greek and Roman sources, the term Federal seems to have embodied more than a little of classical idea and ideal in a country where the study of the classics and a knowledge of Greek and Latin were basic ingredients of higher education and where the “Grand Federal Edifice” in the Philadelphia Federal Procession was conceived as a domed temple supported by thirteen Corinthian columns.

It might be assumed that American furniture, having been modeled on English furniture, is like English furniture. It is not. Many facets of American government are modeled on English institutions. Few would say they are imitations. They are indeed new syntheses. This is also true of American furniture; the differences are subtle. Many of the parts are similar, but they are combined in different ways and often in different proportions.

American furniture has stood the test of time. Thousands of pieces have survived in American families, and many more probably exist scattered unrecognized over the face of the globe. This study is based on about one thousand pieces in the Winterthur collection, 491 of which are included and illustrated in the book. To understand anyone of these pieces of furniture, one must understand the organization of the crafts that produced it, the materials employed, local preferences for ornament and decoration, and other information not readily available. Over the last one hundred and fifty years, many original names for furniture forms have been lost, and the functions which they were to serve obscured. My findings on these subjects have been summarized in five introductory chapters, and in twenty short introductory essays on the various forms. The detail illustrations of inlays and carving and the charts showing local use of woods are an initial attempt to plot regional preferences and practice

]]> http://www.antiquebedblog.com/2008/12/15/american-furniture-from-the-federal-period-1788-1825/feed/ http://www.antiquebedblog.com/2008/12/12/did-you-know/ http://www.antiquebedblog.com/2008/12/12/did-you-know/#comments Fri, 12 Dec 2008 16:00:07 +0000 Jeff Jenkins http://www.antiquebedblog.com/?p=130 Many 18th & 19th Century period beds had headposts and footposts that didn’t match? The ornamental posts were designed for the center of the room while the plainer posts were against the wall.

Bed rails were often taken from a plainer, more plentiful tree than the posts? Rails were considered functional but not decorative.

Tall post beds were designed over 80″ tall to hold a canopy frame? This frame supported the fabric that was used to provide the occupants with warmth and privacy?

Field height beds were designed with short posts of 65″-70″ to be more portable than their tall cousins? The shorter posts allowed for two alternate canopy frames - the bow and the ogee.

Finials were introduced after 1800 as additional ornaments on top of the canopy frame? Later they were used instead of a canopy.

Up until 1860, twin beds were very rare except in the warmest climates? Without central heat, sleeping several to a bed was quite common.

Beds were designed to sleep high above the floor? When the fire went out, it would be warmer and safer from nocturnal beings.

Pine was the predominant wood used in headboards? Regardless of the wood used for the posts - cherry, maple or imported mahogany - headboards were pine which was abundant, available in wide widths and easy to mill.

Until 1820, many beds were made without bolts? Early beds were held together by a network of ropes.

Highly desirable tiger maple is not a species of tree? Tiger or curly maple is actually an accident of growth and cannot be cultivated.

Unusually Wide New York Empire Bed in Mahogany, Original Size

All I want for Christmas

is a Leonard’s bed,

So I can lay my weary head.

One made of mahogany, maple or cherry,

Every day I’d wake up,

oh so merry!

Perhaps a tall post with carvings & turnings

Or a cannonball bed could end my yearnings…

In that bed, I’d think and I’d dream, I would even eat ice cream!

Oh Santa, I promise to be good, if you give me something made of wood.

Christmas Eve will never be the same, send me the truck with the Leonard’s name!

New London Single Drawer Stand in Cherry CA 1820

Being in the antique business and not collecting anything would probably mean that you were in the wrong field. I have many collections and would like to share them with you in the upcoming months along with some basic rules of thumb.

One of my favorite things about developing a collection is the memories that accumulate over time. In one quick glance at a piece, I can tell you where I was, who I spoke with and what the weather was like. Collecting can add fun to a trip as well as personal interest to a home.

Take something as basic as a nightstand – sometimes referred to as a bedside table, end table, work table, phone table and even drinks table. We all have needs for any of these purposes, so this is a good place to start.

Sheraton Carved Acanthus Leg Stand in Cherry & Flame Birch CA 1830

Let’s say you need a table about 2 feet square. Whether 200 years ago or 2 weeks ago, people have always needed these 2 feet or so square tables with drawers. Although their particular applications may have changed, the need for this type of table has not diminished because they still have a practical use. The table should have a drawer to keep things tidy and maybe a bottom shelf for magazines or books. You look in the mainstream marketplace or catalogs – and there are far too many. You choose one; get it home and there it is. It does its job - holds the lamp, pens and phone book – even the magazines – is very practical, nice-looking enough and probably not that cheap. But it’s still a little blah, one of 1,000 just like it with virtually no resale value should you move, redecorate or decide you had made a mistake.

Instead, take a look around – in antique shops (like Leonards), furniture shows, auctions, the Internet. Nightstands alone – the selection will be varied, from country birch or cherry, Hepplewhite with tapered legs or Sheraton with turned legs, even Victorian - all tell their own story; are well-made; pleasing to look at. By material and construction, they can be dated, attributed to a given area or even the cabinet-maker and just like real estate, resalable. Best of all, they won’t look just like your neighbors.

So antique beds aren’t perfect. Sizes weren’t standardized until this century, and old beds - commonly three-quarter size - are usually too short or narrow for modern mattresses; they don’t take a box spring. And they’re usually a little rickety from decades of use. “A bed could have gone through five different lives before it comes to us,” says Jeff Jenkins. Nineteenth-century four-poster beds are our specialty and our staff resizes almost all of them to conform to modern standards, before putting them on the showroom floor. You can also bring your own bed to us for restoration. We work wonders with old wooden beds, making them wider and longer, turning three-quarter-size beds into doubles, doubles into queens, and joining twins to make a king.

This might sound like it contradicts what you’ve always heard about antiques - that you shouldn’t alter them in any way, that doing so will make their value plummet - but many experts agree that beds are an exception to that rule. This is because a bed, unlike a table or bureau, can’t be readily enjoyed without these changes. In fact, according to Bruce Newman, president of Newel Art Galleries, an antiques emporium in New York City with about two hundred and fifty beds in stock, resizing can even enhance the bed’s value. “A bed is a functional object, and if it’s not adapted, it can’t be used”. There are, of course, exceptions to the exception. Newman says any bed worth more than $15,000 or $20,000 probably shouldn’t be altered. At the other end of the spectrum, every flea-market bargain may not justify the effort (you should start with a good quality piece of furniture) or the expense (costs range from several hundred to several thousand dollars, depending on the extent of the work).

Some designs lend themselves to resizing better than others. Wooden four-posters similar to the ones pictured on our website are particularly good candidates. Their most decorative elements are the turned posts, which needn’t be altered when enlarging the bed. The headboards are flat, not elaborately carved or embellished, making them easy to replace or extend. The side rails and cross rails were purely structural, not ornamental; the large evenly spaced holes you see were for the ropes that were woven between the rails, forming a support for a mattress of straw, horsehair, or feathers.

Beds with curved headboards or footboards (as on sleigh beds), curved moldings, or intricate carved work are more of a challenge, since it’s difficult to match these parts or make unobtrusive additions. But don’t lose heart; “never say never”, says Lois MacDonald, vice president of Sales and Marketing at Leonards, explaining that there may be elements from the footboard, for example, that can be taken and inserted on either side of the headboard. And with many beds it’s possible to eke out a few more inches, allowing a three-quarter-size bed to take a double mattress without making any significant structural changes.

There are several ways Leonards resizes beds, depending on the bed itself and the result the owner wants. Each piece is approached individually, but there are basic techniques that we follow. When you’re considering adapting an antique bed - or buying one in the first place - it’s useful to know today’s standard mattress sizes. A twin is 39 by 75 inches; double, or full, is 54 by 75 inches; queen is 60 by 80 inches; and king is 76 by 80 inches. Three-quarter-size mattresses, 48 by 75 inches, are still available, but not very popular today.

They were popular in the last century, though, and the conversion from a three-quarter-size bed to a double can be an easy one. In general, a mattress should fit within the side rails, but an alteration like this one, it can actually rest on top. If you measure from the outside of one of the side rails on a three-quarter bed across to the opposite rail, you’ll often gain the extra inches you need for the width of a double mattress; however, the bed is likely to be too short. To fix this, the length of the side rails is extended, a minor change: a new piece of wood is added at one end or in the center and stained to match. Then a wood lip is added inside the rails all the way around, just below the top; this supports a plywood platform flush with the tops of the rails. Now you can lay a double mattress on the plywood (but you can’t use a box spring). This is one of the least intrusive - and least expensive - ways to resize a bed, but it’s not perfect: the mattress may overhang the edge a bit - fine for a guest room, but maybe not for sleeping on every night.

For a queen- or king-size mattress, the work is more elaborate. When a bed is made larger, new pieces need to be added, which may also mean losing some of the old pieces, but it is a Jenkins’s philosophy to keep as much of the original wood as possible. And when adding new parts, we may actually use old wood, culled from our vast collection of antique bed parts. The beds are always reassembled using the original method of mortise and tenon joinery.

Pairs of twins can be transformed into a king-size bed. The technique is appropriate even for the most ornate beds, since you’re not adding new pieces, but make sure your twins look great when placed side by side. The beds’ design dictates how they will be joined, but the process often involves losing one of the headposts and footposts so that there aren’t two butting clumsily in the center of the new bed. And in most cases, the side rails will need to be replaced or extended.

When you’re looking for an old bed, antiques stores may not actually be your best sources. Many dealers don’t carry beds at all because they take up too much room and because the market for beds just isn’t as strong as for other furniture. In addition to specialty stores, estate sales and auctions are well worth combing for beds (and don’t forget to check relatives’ attics and basements). When you find one you love, you may pleasantly surprised by the price tag. Antique beds can even cost less than a good reproduction; they start at about $3,500 and many are less than $5,000.

And if you have it resized, it won’t just be more comfortable to stretch out in, but it will probably be sturdier, as well; during the restoration process, Leonards makes sure the piece is ready for several more generations of use. “A bed has to be sound. It can’t squeak or creak”, says Jenkins, who guarantees his beds for as long as you own them. “I figure that’s safe”, he says, “because they’re already been around for a couple hundred years.”

Originally published in Martha Stewart Living, October 1998.