Marked with leopard’s head, lion rampant, and London date letter for 1572. Decorated in chased floriated design.
(By courtesy of Messrs. Crichton Brothers.)
In these troublous Stuart times many pieces of silver were buried by the owners who never came back, and they may still lie buried to this day. Others were disinterred and proudly grace some of our fine collections. One thinks of John Rivett, the blacksmith, who delivered up broken pieces of copper to the Puritan iconoclasts who had directed him to break up the equestrian statue of Charles I. But the statue itself he buried in his garden at Holborn Fields by night, and at the Restoration it was re-erected in its old place at Charing Cross, where it now stands. Without doubt, some of our most treasured plate has had as eventful a history as the “Man on the Black Horse.”
Elizabethan Flagons
To leave standing cups and retrace our steps, we may examine another class of vessel, the flagon. This is tall and usually rotund in shape, having a narrow neck. It belongs to the sixteenth century. Many of the specimens remaining are among communion plate, but its use was not confined to ecclesiastical purposes. The name is of ancient origin, and was possibly at first applied to any vessel holding drink—the Danish word flacon goes back many centuries. We find various references to it in the older writers. Bacon writes: “More had sent him by a suitor in Chancery two silver flagons,” and Shakespeare, in Hamlet, has “A mad rogue! he pour’d a flagon of Rhenish on my head once.” The relationship of the flagon to the tankard is a close one. The form as it continued to the end of the eighteenth century was practically unchanged from that of the earliest known types. It differs from the Italianate ewer with its slender neck and graceful proportions. Ale obviously required a broad, swelling vessel. There is nothing finnicking about that old English beverage. But wine necessitated something more delicate. Although nothing in silver has emulated the modern long, thin-necked, glass claret jugs with silver mounts, yet there has always been a distinction between ale, the popular drink of the people, and wine of foreign origin more pleasing to the palate of the connoisseur.
In the two Elizabethan examples illustrated ([page 105]), it will be seen that although taller and more grandiose, these are the prototypes of the later tankard, of which the definite form was established in the seventeenth century. The evolution of design, whether it be a continuity of the same technique and medium, or an adaption by the silver worker of the forms of the glass worker, the potter, or the woodworker, is always interesting to the student. There is little doubt that these silver tankards were in a measure derivative from Scandinavian types belonging to the earlier era. Man did not on a sudden invent new shapes for everyday use which no other man, in no other country or in no other age, had ever conceived. The salt-glazed stoneware of Germany and Flanders without doubt introduced new fashions to the silversmith. The canettes of Jacqueline Countess of Hainault in the fifteenth century, Vrouw Jacoba’s Kannetjes, the Cologne cannette of stoneware of middle sixteenth century days, and the Flemish cruche, a decorated jug with a pewter lid and mounts, all had an influence on the silversmith. But the law of supply and demand, even in early days, was something which could not be gainsaid. Man himself determined what was best fitted to his needs.
It will be seen that the earlier example of the two illustrated is dated in London, 1572, the year of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. It has the almost straight sides, narrowing slightly towards the top and broadening towards the foot. It is decorated with chased floriated design, relieved by vertical bands continued on the cover to the apex. The cover is surmounted by a button, in form like a seal-top spoon of a later era. The handle is bold, and it lacks the strengthening band at the base which is shown in the adjacent example, where the handle is joined to the barrel by a band. The marks will be seen on the face of the piece in the middle of the surface below the cover.
The other example bears the London date letter for 1599, towards the close of Elizabeth’s reign. The piece is of fine proportions, with massive scroll handle. The cover, as in these earlier examples, is dome-shaped, and is surmounted by a circular radiating disc with baluster ornament. The billet, or thumb-piece, is chased with a man’s head. The decoration of the barrel is of the style frequently found upon tankards and bell salts of the late Elizabethan period and in the early years of James I, that is formal strap work, and scroll leafage incised in outline. The ground between is matted. In passing it may be noticed that this strap design was seized later by the woodworker in his panel work. The body rests on an applied foot, which is repoussé and chased with scroll outlines, similar to the cover. Two bands pass around the barrel and the lower one secures the handle. A panel with female head in relief adds dignity to a specimen which is of exceptional character.
Seventeenth Century Tankards