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The Civil troubles in the country had given a severe check to the arts: the influence of the Renaissance upon furniture was upon the wane, and the ground was lying fallow and hungry for the new styles which may be said to have landed with William of Orange in Torbay in 1688.

The main influence in the furniture was Dutch, and the Dutch had been to a large extent influenced by a wave of Orientalism.

Twenty-five years before this, England's most renowned, if not greatest, architect had designed his first ecclesiastical building--the Chapel of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge--in the classical style which he made famous in England.

Christopher Wren was born in 1631 or 1632. He was son of Dr. Christopher Wren, Dean of Windsor, and nephew of Matthew Wren, Bishop of Ely, who, to celebrate his release from the Tower, built Pembroke Hall Chapel in 1663, employing his nephew as architect.

It would appear that Wren had no world-wide reputation as an architect at the time, but, probably through the instrumentality of his friend Evelyn, he was appointed by the King as assistant to Sir John Denham, the Surveyor-General of Works, and in the opinion of one of his biographers, Lucy Phillimore, "the practical experience learned in the details of the assistant-surveyor's work was afterwards very serviceable to him."

We find him occupied in 1664 in plans for repairing old St. Paul's and in building the Sheldonian Theatre at Oxford, which was finished in 1669. During the plague of 1665 Wren made a tour of the Continent, and there absorbed ideas which fructified in the new style of classical architecture which has made his name famous. During further discussions concerning the much-needed repairs to St. Paul's came the fire of London in 1666. This solved the difficulty, for St. Paul's was left a gaunt skeleton in the City of Desolation. Wren's plans for the rebuilding of the City were accepted by the King, but were never carried out in anything like their entirety. All attempts to patch up the cathedral were abandoned in 1673, and the ground was cleared for the new foundations. The architect and his master mason laid the first stone on June 21, 1675. The cathedral and the story of its building is familiar to us all. The great architect, having drawn the circle for the dome, called to a workman to bring him a piece of stone to mark the centre. The man brought a fragment of an old tombstone on which was the single word "Resurgam." All present took it as a good omen. We all know how the last stone of the lantern was laid thirty-five years afterwards by the architect's own son in the presence of his father. During those thirty-five years the great freemason's hands had been full, and in the City which rose from the ashes of the fire of 1666 no less than fifty-four churches were either built or restored by him. In addition, we find that the rebuilding or restoration of thirty-six halls of the City guilds, as well as upwards of fifty notable buildings--hospitals, colleges, palaces, cathedrals and churches--in London and the provinces, is laid to his credit.

St. Paul's Cathedral, Wren's City churches, and the Monument, would in themselves make London famous amongst the cities of the world. The Monument was erected to commemorate the rebuilding of the City. The inscription thereon absurdly attributes the origin of the fire to the Papists. Pope satirises it in his "Moral Essays":

London's Column pointing to the skies Like a tall bully lifts the head and lies.

Chief, for beauty, amongst the churches is St. Stephen's, Walbrook. Canova, the great sculptor, after paying a visit to England for the purpose of seeing the Elgin marbles, was asked if he would like to return to the country. "Yes," he replied, "that I might again see St. Paul's Cathedral, Somerset House, and St. Stephen's, Walbrook."

Heroi omni saeculo venerando.

Underneath the figure of Queen Anne is the legend:

Arte tua sculptor non est imitabilis Anna Annae vis similem sculpere sculpe Deam.

The local rhyming and free translation runs:

Artist, thy skill is vain! Thou can'st not trace The semblance of the matchless Anna's face! Thou might'st as well to high Olympus fly And carve the model of some Deity!

We admit this is a very free and extended translation, but it passes current locally. To say the least, it is high praise; but Wren had a staunch friend in Queen Anne, and every eye makes its own beauty.

The exigencies of the time called for a great architect, and he appeared in the person of Christopher Wren: they called for a great artist to adorn the master's buildings, and he appeared in the guise of Grinling Gibbon.

The discovery of Gibbon in an obscure house at Deptford goes to the credit of gossipy John Evelyn, who on January 18, 1671, writes: "This day, I first acquainted his Majesty with that incomparable young man Gibbon, whom I had lately met with in an obscure place by mere accident, in a field in our parish, near Sayes Court. I found him shut in; but looking in at the window, I perceived him carving that large cartoon or crucifix of Tintoretto, a copy of which I had brought myself from Venice, where the original painting remains. I asked if I might enter; he opened the door civilly to me, and I saw him about such a work as for the curiosity of handling, drawing and studious exactness, I never had before seen in all my travels. I questioned why he worked in such an obscure and lonesome place; it was that he might apply himself to his profession without interruption, and wondered not a little how I found him out. I asked him if he were unwilling to be known to some great man, for that I believed it might turn to his profit, he answered, he was yet but a beginner, but would not be sorry to sell off that piece; on demanding the price he said ?100. In good earnest, the very frame was worth the money, there being nothing in nature so tender and delicate as the flowers and festoons about it, and yet the work was very strong; in the piece was more than one hundred figures of men, &c.... Of this young artist, together with my manner of finding him out, I acquainted the King, and begged that he would give me leave to bring him and his work to Whitehall, for that I would venture my reputation with his Majesty that he had never seen anything approach it, and that he would be exceedingly pleased, and employ him. The King said he would himself go see him. This was the first notice his Majesty ever had of Mr. Gibbon."

The King evidently did not "go see him," for under date March 1 we read: "I caused Mr. Gibbon to bring to Whitehall his excellent piece of carving, where being come, I advertised his Majesty.... No sooner was he entered and cast his eye on the work, but he was astonished at the curiosity of it, and having considered it a long time and discoursed with Mr. Gibbon whom I brought to kiss his hand, he commanded it should be immediately carried to the Queen's side to show her. It was carried up into her bedchamber, where she and the King looked on and admired it again; the King being called away, left us with the Queen, believing she would have bought it, it being a crucifix; but when his Majesty was gone, a French peddling woman, one Madame de Boord, who used to bring petticoats and fans and baubles, out of France to the ladies, began to find fault with several things in the work, which she understood no more than an ass, or a monkey, so as in a kind of indignation, I caused the person who brought it to carry it back to the Chamber, finding the Queen so much governed by an ignorant French woman, and this incomparable artist had his labour only for his pains, which not a little displeased me; he not long after sold it for ?80, though well worth ?100, without the frame, to Sir George Viner. His Majesty's Surveyor, Mr. Wren, faithfully promised to employ him. I having also bespoke his Majesty for his work at Windsor, which my friend Mr. May, the architect there, was going to alter and repair universally."

Readers who are familiar with the Belgian churches will remember the wonderful carvings at Brussels and Mecklin by Drevot and Laurens, who were pupils of Gibbon. They out-Gibbon Gibbon in their realism.

We have already referred to the Church of St. Mary Abchurch in Abchurch Lane, between King William Street and Cannon Street, City. It was built in 1686, eleven years after the first stone of St. Paul's was laid. It also serves for the parish of St. Laurence Pountney. It lies in a quiet backwater off the busy stream, and the flagged courtyard is still surrounded by a few contemporary houses. Externally it is not beautiful, but Wren and Gibbon expended loving care on the really beautiful interior. The soft light from the quaint circular and round-headed windows casts a gentle radiance over the carved festoons of fruit, palm-leaves and the "pelican in her piety."

Just across, on the other side of Cannon Street, is another backwater, Laurence Pountney Hill. Two of the old Queen Anne houses remain, No. 1 and No. 2, with beautiful old hooded doorways dated 1703. The circular hoods are supported by carved lion-headed brackets. The jambs are ornamented with delicate interlaced carving. No. 2 has been mutilated as to its windows, and a modern excrescence has been built on to the ground floor; but No. 1 appears to be much as it left the builders' hands in 1703, and still possesses the old wide staircase with twisted "barley-sugar" balusters and carved rose newel pendants. These houses may or may not have been designed by Wren. They seem to bear the impress of his genius, and in any case they give us a glimpse--and such glimpses are all too rare--of the homes of the City fathers, just as the little church across Cannon Street brings us in touch with their religious life in the early days of Queen Anne.

Fig. 5 represents an interesting series of turned balusters taken from old houses of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. They are executed in oak, lime, ash and pinewood--mostly the latter; and many of the details will be found repeated in the furniture legs of the Queen Anne period. The photograph was specially taken for this volume by the courtesy of the Director and Secretary of the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Fig. 6 represents a contemporary doorway of a room formerly at No. 3 Clifford's Inn. It is of oak, with applied carvings in cedar of acanthus-leaf work, enclosing a cherub's head and a broken pediment terminating in volutes. We shall find members of the same cherub family on the exterior of St. Mary Abchurch. Fig. 7 is the overmantel of the same room with a marble mantelpiece of somewhat later date. This room, now at the Victoria and Albert Museum, was erected in 1686 by John Penhallow, who resided there till 1716.

Fig. 8 is a beautiful doorway carved in yellow pine, with Corinthian columns and pediment. We shall find similar pediments in the tower of Wren's church, St. Andrew's, Holborn. This doorway with the carved mantelpiece came from an old house in Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. These belong to the early part of the eighteenth century.

These are but a few isolated examples of beautiful settings to the furniture of the period of the revival of classical architecture in England. Such things are not for the modest collector, who will content himself with the chairs, tables, and bureaux of the period--articles, in the main, of severe outline devoid of carving, and relying for effect much upon the rich tones of the wood employed, but withal eminently beautiful, inasmuch as they were and are eminently useful.

The mirror, at the present time, is so generally an accepted necessary of life, and so indispensable in many of its situations, that it may seem remarkable that not until the sixteenth century was it in anything like general use in England. The pleasure and interest of reflection must have been felt from the time when "the reindeer roared where Paris roars to-night." Still water must have been the first mirror of the first man and woman in which they discovered their astonished faces, and where it is possible that, like Narcissus, they fell in love with their own reflections. Thus we find Eve saying in "Paradise Lost":

I thither went And with unexperienced thought, and laid me down On the green bank; to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seem'd a second sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite, A shape within the wat'ry gleam appear'd, Bending to look on me.

No doubt a reflecting surface was one of the first things that human ingenuity concerned itself about. Brass mirrors were used by the Hebrews, and mirrors of bronze by the Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans; surviving specimens may be seen in the museums. Silver mirrors were also used in very early times. Glass mirrors are also of ancient origin. Sauzay, in his work on "Glass-making," quotes from Aristotle as follows: "If metals and stones are to be polished to serve as mirrors, glass and crystal have to be lined with a sheet of metal to give back the image presented to them." And here we have the foreshadowing of the mercury-backed sheet of glass of modern times.

In England mirrors of polished metal were well known in Anglo-Saxon times, and from the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries the ladies carried mirrors at their girdles or in their pockets. Venice has always been the home of glass-work, and it was there, in the early fourteenth century, that the immediate prototypes of our modern glass mirrors were made. For something like a century and a half the Venetians had the monopoly of the making of the best mirrors. Their secrets were carefully guarded, and any workman emigrating had his nearest relative imprisoned. It is interesting to note in passing that in Jan van Eyck's picture in the National Gallery, London, painted in 1434, there is a framed convex wall mirror which has an astonishingly modern look. It is difficult to say whether or not this is made of glass, but it shows, of course, that mirrors were used for wall decoration at that time. This picture, by the way, is very interesting, as providing undeniable evidence as to the nature of the Dutch furniture of the early fifteenth century.

"To Lambeth to that rare magazine of marble, to take order for chimney pieces, &c, for Mr. Godolphin's house. The owner of the workes had built for himselfe a pretty dwelling house; this Dutchman had contracted with the Genoese for all their marble. We also saw the Duke of Buckingham's Glass Worke, where they made high vases of metal as cleare, ponderous and thick as chrystal; also looking-glasses far larger and better than any that come from Venice."

As will be seen at Hampton Court, the glass in each of the large mirrors of this time is in two pieces, for the reason that, by the methods then in use, it was not possible to make larger sheets. This method of making mirrors in two pieces is followed even in the present day in modern copies of old mirrors. It was, no doubt, a cause of regret to the old makers that they could not turn out a large glass in one sheet, and they would no doubt have been astonished to think that succeeding ages would deliberately copy their defect. A collector will not, probably, come across a mirror earlier than William and Mary, and he should have little difficulty in finding genuine mirrors of the next reign--Queen Anne--which are at once interesting and inexpensive. Mr. Clouston thinks that "the wall mirrors of the Queen Anne period may very well rank with the best furniture of their time. They are simple yet satisfying, and rich without extravagance."

A mirror is not a mere looking-glass, although in this connection it has always been greatly appreciated. Mirrors bring a sense of space to a small room, and make a larger room appear more spacious. In the King's writing-closet at Hampton Court there is a mirror over the chimney-piece which provides a vista of all the rooms on the south side of the state apartments. Great furniture-designers from the time of Grinling Gibbon to that of Chippendale have appreciated the opportunities offered by mirrors for the purposes of decoration.

Fig. 10 is a mirror-frame of carved limewood by Grinling Gibbon to be seen in the Victoria and Albert Museum. It is a rich and wonderful example of chisel play, but, like his work in general, does not satisfy a taste which inclines to less resplendent decoration. Such a mirror is probably not within the reach of any collector, great or small; and it is even probable--at least as regards the small collector--that, if by a stroke of fortune such a piece descended to him, he would find that it would scarcely harmonise with any ordinary scheme of decoration. Its presence would be as embarrassing as the entertainment of Royalty in a suburban home.

The ordinary types--and they are many--of Queen Anne mirrors can with perfect propriety find places in almost any room in any house of taste, and on the walls of hall or staircase they are at once interesting and decorative. Particularly are they in harmony with the surroundings of a "Queen Anne" bedroom. In this connection, however, a word of warning is in place regarding the old glass. This is very well on the wall mirrors, but in the mirror for the toilet-table it should be replaced by new glass. Nothing lasts for ever, and it is rare that the old glasses fully retain their reflecting powers. Old mirrors are bad to shave by, and are, moreover, extremely unpopular with ladies. The art of furnishing consists of a tactful combination of whatever is best in the old and the new.

Figs. 11 and 12 are simple mirrors of the Queen Anne period. Fig. 11 is a wall glass with a pleasing scroll outline, and Fig. 12 is a toilet-table glass characteristic of the period, the gilt inner moulding or "embroidery" being an interesting feature. We find similar decorative devices to the above on many of the mirrors of this time, and such examples should be purchasable at about two guineas each.

Figs. 13 and 14 are more elaborate and expensive mirrors, the broken pediments in each case suggesting the influence of Sir Christopher Wren. Although the architectural inspiration, which was absolute in the Gothic periods and strong in the Elizabethan, was very much less marked in the time of Queen Anne, still the classical influence of Wren's Renaissance style is shown in many ways, and particularly in the many varieties of the broken pediment which are favourite forms of decoration for the tops of mirror frames. Fig. 13, in addition to the broken pediment, is decorated on the frame with egg-and-tongue mouldings, and on the base with a bust of a cherub in high relief. Fig. 14 is surmounted by a boldly carved figure of an eagle enclosed by the broken pediment. On either side are carved festoons of fruit and flowers, possibly suggested by the work of Grinling Gibbon. These important mirrors, interesting and effective as they are, require large rooms to set them off.

Simple mirrors, as in Figs. 11 and 12, present no difficulties regarding their disposal. The more elaborate ones, however, apart from their expensiveness, should not be purchased unless there is a suitable place in which to hang them. This suggests a maxim which applies to the collection of any sort of furniture, viz. not to purchase any piece until you have decided what to do with it. Adherence to this rule may involve the occasional loss of a bargain, but it avoids confusion and possible domestic complications. We knew an enthusiastic collector who resisted the purchase of old examples with the greatest difficulty. His wife, on the other hand, whilst appreciating possibly as keenly as her husband the attractions of the antique, was also fastidious regarding the prompt settlement of tradesmen's bills. The climax was reached one day when the husband, instead of settling certain pressing accounts, attended a sale and purchased an enormous Dutch wardrobe which was found to be at least eighteen inches too tall for any room in the house.

Another form of decoration applied to mirror-frames of the Queen Anne period was that known as "Gesso" work, whereby a design was built into relief with layers of size and plaster applied with a brush. It gives scope for delicate line work, and is often softer than carving. Figs. 15 and 16 are mirrors decorated with Gesso ornament, to which, however, little justice can be done in a photograph.

Fig. 17 is a fine mirror of pinewood with Gesso ornamentation, in which the broken pediment form has taken a somewhat fanciful shape.

In Fig. 18 the broken pediment appears in a more strictly architectural form. This mirror, which is of painted pine, was formerly in the "Flask" Tavern, Ebury Square, Pimlico. Although its date would be about 1700, it is clearly in its mouldings reminiscent of the Jacobean period, which style no doubt continued in popularity amongst the poorer classes. This mirror is an interesting instance of the merging of the two styles.

Marquetry was also used on the mirror-frames of this period, an example in a broad frame inlaid with a floral pattern being shown in Fig. 19. This mirror was sold for seventeen guineas.

Fig. 20 is an example of a toilet mirror of the Queen Anne period, the front of which lets down with a flap, after the manner of a bureau, revealing a nest of drawers. This form of mirror is not often met with, and an opportunity of acquiring one at a reasonable price should not be neglected. Fig. 21 is of similar construction mounted on a stand, an architectural touch being given by the pilasters on either side of the mirror. This pattern is singularly simple and charming.

Stools of the period under review are generally difficult and somewhat expensive to acquire, but these are not reasons for giving up hope. A type of the William and Mary stool is shown in Fig. 22. The scrolled feet and X-shaped stretcher are characteristic. Stools were very popular articles of furniture at this time. We find them in numbers in contemporary prints, and they continued to be used as seats at meal-times, as no doubt they were more comfortable than the stiff-backed chairs of the time. In the face of decided evidence of their prevalence in the Queen Anne period, their scarcity to-day is somewhat remarkable.

In the coloured frontispiece is shown a simple stool of the time of the early Queen Anne period covered with Petit-point needlework, with which the ladies of that period delighted to occupy themselves. This needlework--which, in addition to being used as a covering for furniture, was also framed to hang on the walls--is often patterned with quaint trees, people, goats, dogs, and a sprinkling of lovers and birds. A stool such as is shown in the frontispiece makes an admirable seat for a knee-hole writing-table.

Fig. 23 is a large stool of the Queen Anne period with escallop-shell decoration, cabriole legs and an early form of the claw-and-ball feet. It is covered with contemporary needlework.

A Queen Anne bedroom conjures up the possibility of composing a charming scheme of interior decoration. First it is necessary to face the inevitable and accept the position that a modern bedstead is essential. This should be made of walnut-wood, and the ends shaped after the manner of the solid splats in the simple chairs of the period. Such bedsteads are made by several of the good modern furniture firms. They are not, of course, literal reproductions of the bedsteads of the period, which were of the four-poster order, but they will be found to be in good taste. Upon this bed should lie a reproduction of the bed-covers of the period in a pattern boldly coloured and Oriental in design. The floor should be covered by antique Persian rugs . A walnut toilet-table should stand in the window . Upon it should rest a toilet-glass , and in front of it, if possible, a stool covered with the needlework of the period . This stool will, however, be difficult to obtain, and its place could be taken by a simple chair of the period . Two other simple chairs should find places around the room, upon one side of which should be placed a walnut tallboy surmounted by a piece of Chinese blue-and-white. We cannot too strongly emphasise the desirability of associating old Chinese blue-and-white pottery with eighteenth-century furniture. The washstand of the period should be replaced by an unobtrusive wooden table painted white, the top of which should be covered with tiles in a shade which does not disagree with a reproduction of an old "Spode" or "Mason's Ironstone" toilet set.

Toilet sets, as we understand the term to-day, were unknown in the days of Queen Anne. Common earthenware pitchers and basins, or at best English and Dutch Delft, did duty until the rise of the great Staffordshire factories late in the eighteenth century. Orignal "Spode" or "Mason" ware would not be of earlier dates than 1770 and 1804 respectively, and so quite out of the Queen Anne period. We merely mention these two styles of so-called "Indian" decorations as being most suitable for the purpose in hand. We might, indeed, happen upon an eighteenth-century blue-and-white service; but all these early ewers and basins, like the early washstands, are altogether too diminutive for modern requirements. The reproductions, whilst retaining the old decoration, are built in more generous proportions.

For wall covering a plain white-or champagne-coloured paper might be adopted, and for wall decoration one or two old mirrors and some reproductions of Dutch interiors by the old masters, framed in broad black frames, would be in harmony with the surroundings. A difficulty in composing a Queen Anne bedroom is to find a suitable hanging wardrobe. The marquetry hanging-press or wardrobe of the period, with its bomb?-shaped lower section, is somewhat heavy in appearance, except in a large room, and is, moreover, expensive to acquire. Failing a hanging cupboard in the wall, a simple plain cupboard should be built and painted white. Such a cupboard at least strikes no false note, and is greatly to be preferred to a modern wardrobe or one of another period.

In this connection a schedule of the cost to the authors of furnishing a similar bedroom may be of interest.

The cost of such details as carpets, curtains, bed-covering, china, &c, is not included.

To this, therefore, must be added the various modern reproductions, including the bedstead: the total cost of the room would be about fifty pounds. The result is, of course, a combination of the old and the new--the best points of each being preserved--and the effect will be found harmonious.

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