Chats on Old Sheffield Plate

by Arthur Hayden

(By courtesy of Walter H. Willson, Esq.)

Hot Water Jugs.—The form of the jug offers endless possibilities to the artist who designs practical shapes that the metal worker, the glass-blower, or the potter can bring into being, each according to his technique. It is the duty of the artist, if he be practical as well as ideal, to offer only such designs as can be easily worked in the particular craft for which he is drawing his designs. In regard to narrow-necked vessels there is the suggestion that they are more suited to the potter than to the metal worker. In the East, where metal workers carry on traditions that go back long ages, we do not find that wide-mouthed vessels claim preference. It is not so much that the craftsmen are conservative and do not seek new forms, but rather that, having mastered their technique, they confine themselves to its limitations recognized centuries ago. There is no doubt that the narrow-necked jar in the old fable of the Fox and the Crane was one made by the potter. The difficulties in technique in manipulating a jug such as is illustrated (p. [235]) must have been great, though not insuperable.

OLD SHEFFIELD PLATED HOT WATER JUG.

Urn-shaped, on base with claw feet. Rosette decoration carried out in base and body, together with festoons. Shoulder and base ornamented with band of vertical fluting. This example typifies the Adam style at its best. Date 1770.

(By courtesy of Walter H. Willson, Esq.)

But the fine Adam jug, with this premiss as to narrow vessels in general, offers a superlative example of the Adam style executed as early as 1770 (illustrated, p. [235]). The square base with ball feet, the simple festoon of drapery, encircling rosettes but not being supported by them, the band of ribbed ornament placed just at that position where it attains the maximum effect, the fine exquisitely balanced proportions of the neck as natural and wonderful as nature in graceful birds such as the swan, and the pleasing lines in the curve of the spout—all these points are points of beauty impossible to describe in words, but quick to strike the trained eye satiated with improper ornament and feverishly awaiting the advent of pure unalloyed beauty of form. One never grows weary of contemplating such a perfect example as this of the art of the modern metal worker, that is modern since the old days of Greece and Rome, and modern as in comparison with the outburst of the great Italian Renaissance.

Two other hot water jugs are illustrated (p. [229]) each typifying forms into which the metal worker converted his sheet silver. That on the left is severe in form. It represents the spirit of classicism cold and unsatisfying. The absence of the curve in the body and the straight lines at the shoulder might have proved, had Hogarth seen it, some of his points as to the line of beauty. The plane surfaces are too few to be attractive, to increase their number would be to depart from a simplicity of outline at which the artist-designer has aimed. The elongated handle striking a sharp acute angle adjacent to the edge of the broad facetted body offers a inharmonious note. The space between the handle and the body is not a pleasing space to the eye. In technique the jug is perfect, as perfect as the silversmiths could fashion it, and as representative a replica as Sheffield could turn out. The eye wanders to the upper portion and finds restfulness, and it is this upper portion which makes the jug lovable and beautiful.

Its fellow on the same page affects a new form. Its handle carries one back to the porringer of Stuart days with its out-turned terminal. The body swells with beautiful symmetrical curves. Its plain cold effect is relieved by the broken flutings carried part of the way up. The spout again is reminiscent of the earlier forms in the flagon of bye-gone days. The cover has a delightful pineapple ornament of sufficient size to give character to the piece. Although composite in its conception it takes its place on a plane indubitably its own.

The Marks of Makers.—Having extolled the object made, it would be delightful to be able to extol the maker. But the records of the copyist platers of Sheffield are not in such an exact state as to determine this. Even when certain initials and marks identify a particular firm, and one has run it to earth, one is confronted with the proposition as to who did actually make the piece. At what particular part of the chain, leaving out the drawers of the ingot from the charcoal fire and the mechanical rollers, was it fashioned by the man whom we wish to admire. Names of firms we know are hall marks as to quality. In silver formerly the maker did make the piece to which he was proud to stamp his initials, but even then the law conspired to cheat him of the guerdon of posterity's worship. The initials of Christian name and surname that is sensible enough. We all are aware of that abbreviation, and of accredited signs, from E.R., Elizabeth Regina, to the butterfly of Whistler. But disguised under the first two letters of his surname the silversmith in 1697, by William III, 8 & 9, cap. 8, left little evidence of his personality. William Keith becomes KE and Robert Cooper is CO, and Seth Lofthouse is L.O. In 1739 by George II, 12, cap. 26, just before the Sheffield period, the first two initial letters of Christian name and surname became compulsory. So that there is every reason why at Sheffield, the workmen who executed the mouldings and the craftsmen who pierced the design or chased it, should have added their initials. The die sinker might go by the board, but the artisan who with the highest art concealed art with his die work and his wire, he too might place his sign. There are workmen's marks, but nowadays they mean nothing except that they are "workmen's marks." On Worcester porcelain it is the same, certain symbols are believed to be workmen's marks. That is all. The French were wiser. At Sèvres the marks of each painter, decorator, and gilder of the porcelain from 1753 to 1800 is duly recorded. A crescent denoted that Ledoux painted the birds, LG tells that Le Guay did the gilding, a pair of compasses show that Mutel painted the landscapes, LR stands for La Roche and his medallions and emblems, F is Falot for butterflies, and so on. There are over a hundred and twenty known workmen's marks. And in 1750 the French cabinet-makers stamped their names on their works.