OLD GLASS
AND
HOW TO COLLECT IT

The Standard Book on the Subject.

A HISTORY OF ENGLISH STAINED
GLASS WINDOWS.

By Maurice Drake. Fully Illustrated in Colour
and Half-tone. Foolscap folio. £2, 2s. net.

“One of the most beautiful, nay, most sumptuous, books produced in recent years, and from that point of view the Author and the publisher, the artist and the printer, and, indeed, also the binder, are to be heartily congratulated. But it is also an interesting book to read, although the subject is not everyone’s subject, for it is written, not merely with knowledge, which one can find anywhere on most subjects, but with knowledge touched with humanity, which is the kind of knowledge that we want in a book.”—Daily Chronicle.

FIRST STEPS IN COLLECTING.

By Mrs Grace Vallois, Author of “Antiques and Curios in our Homes.” 64 Illustrations. Picture Cover. 6s. net.

In this book G. M. Vallois has grappled successfully with the problem of how to give the amateur a slight general knowledge of a wide subject, without deluging him with technical details.

ANTIQUES AND CURIOS IN OUR HOMES.

By G. M. Vallois. 61 Illustrations. 6s. net.

In addition to being interesting to those who possess old furniture, etc., it should appeal to young persons making a home, as, even though they may not be able to buy Antique Furniture, it is of educational value to them, inasmuch as it teaches in a most fascinating manner the difference between Sheraton and Chippendale, between Wedgwood and Willow Pattern, etc.

A fine specimen of Early Bristol Glass, with landscape painted by Edkin.

OLD GLASS AND HOW
TO COLLECT IT

BY
J. SYDNEY LEWIS
ILLUSTRATED
LONDON
T. WERNER LAURIE LTD.
30 NEW BRIDGE STREET, E.C.4

The Author desires to express his best thanks to Miss Whitmore Jones, Mr Cole of Law, Foulsham & Cole, Mr A. Edwards of Messrs Edwards Limited, for their kind permission to include examples of old English and Irish glass from their Collections, and to Messrs Sotheby, Wilkinson & Hodge for allowing him to include the list of prices fetched by various specimens at their Sales.

He is also desirous of acknowledging the assistance he has received from the Authorities of the British and Dublin Museums, and also to the late Mr J. Herbert Bailey, to whom and to “The Connoisseur” he is indebted for several of the illustrations.

His indebtedness to the great work of Mr A. Hartshorne is one which he shares with every writer who takes as his subject “Old English Glass.”

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY

THE origin of glass is lost in antiquity. Pliny, indeed, ascribes its discovery to certain Phœnician mariners who, being shipwrecked upon a sandy shore, used a block of the natron which formed their cargo to support a pot which they were putting over an improvised fire. The heat fused the sand with the natron, and lo! the glass was discovered in the ashes.

Since, however, Pliny’s authority was Rumour, and since, also, such a phenomenon is a physical impossibility—for no bonfire could produce a temperature at which sand would fuse—it is possible that Rumour in Pliny’s day had a no greater reputation for reliability than in the twentieth century. But the story, if not true, is at least well invented and serves to show at how early an age in the world’s history glass was known.

It is more than probable that the place of its origin was Ancient Egypt, and that the Phœnicians, who were undoubtedly acquainted with its use, drew their knowledge from the workers on the banks of old Nile. At any rate articles of glass have been discovered in tombs of the fifth and sixth dynasties—some 3300 years before Christ. This, the earliest known glass, is generally opaque, and is chiefly used to form small articles of ornament, such as beads for necklaces, etc. The “aggry” beads, found in Anglo-Saxon barrows and made in our own time by the Ashantis and neighbouring tribes, are of similar type. Some admirable specimens of ancient Egyptian glass are to be found in the British Museum. Among them is a turquoise-blue opaque glass jar of Thothmes III.—the greatest of all the kings of Egypt—dating from about 1550 B.C.

At a later date glass was extensively made in Alexandria, the sand in the vicinity being of exceptional purity and so, suitable for its manufacture. The city speedily became celebrated for the beauty of its output, and articles of Alexandrian glass were largely exported to Greece and to Rome, where also, in the space of a few years, glass-houses were established; and to Constantinople, which was, in time, to become famous for the manufacture of coloured glass and of the Mosaics so dear to the Oriental taste.

The Greeks do not appear to have developed the art of glass-making at a very early age, but specimens of glass have been found in Grecian tombs, and, in the Golden Age of Ancient Greece, when art and literature reached their zenith under Pericles, glass was certainly employed for purposes of architectural decoration.

In Rome, however, the art of glass manufacture found a congenial home and was developed to a high pitch of excellence. So widespread was its use that it is a truism to say that in Rome of two thousand years ago glass was employed for a greater number of purposes—domestic, architectural, and ornamental—than it is to-day, even though the glazing of windows was in its infancy and the use of the material for optical purposes was scarcely known. In effect, coloured and ornamental glass held much the same place in the Roman household that china and earthenware do among us to-day. Glass was used for pavements and for the external covering of walls. The Roman glass-workers were particularly happy in their combination of colours, both by fusing together threads of various colours, or by fusing masses, so as to imitate onyx, porphyry, serpentine, and other ornamental stones.

The most interesting of all was the famous cameo glass. A bubble of opaque white glass was blown, and this was coated with blue and a further layer of opaque white superimposed. The outer coat of blue was removed from the portion which was to display the design, leaving the white to be carved into whatever figures the artist’s fancy dictated. The finest example extant of this kind of ware is the famous Portland vase in the British Museum.

The art, thus brought to such perfection in Rome, naturally spread throughout Italy and the Roman colonies in France, Spain, Germany, and Britain. Probably workmen from the Italian cities also established the first furnaces among the lagoons of Venice, and so laid the foundation of what were to be the finest glass manufactories in the world. At the end of the thirteenth century a guild of glass-workers was formed. These sequestered their craft upon the island of Murano, and there cultivated it with an increasing skill that in a brief space made Venetian glass the marvel of the civilised world. The peculiar merits of the Venetian product were grace of form and lightness of execution. Many of the vessels are surpassingly thin. The quality of the metal, however, leaves something to be desired. It is dull, frequently tinged with yellow—due to the presence of iron—or purple—the effect of too great a proportion of manganese. The workmen became so skilful that, carried away by the joie d’exécuter, they produced not only the artistic forms for which Venetian glass is famous, but all sorts of extravagances—ships, animals, birds, fishes, and so on—whose only merit was to testify to the excellence of a technique which could so triumph over the difficulties of form and material.

Meanwhile, other European nations had taken their cue from Venice, and glass-houses sprang up in various parts of the Continent, particularly in France and in Bohemia; the latter, indeed, speedily became the great rival of Venice.

In England, as we shall see, glass was made during the Roman occupation. Under the Saxons, glass-workers were imported from the Continent, but to judge from the number and variety of the specimens found in Anglo-Saxon tombs, it is probable that it was also manufactured to an equal extent at home. During the Middle Ages the art appears to have fallen into abeyance, save in a few isolated instances to be noted later, but in the sixteenth century the custom of using glass vessels was introduced from France and the Low Countries, most of the pieces being imported from Venice. To prevent the money thus expended from leaving the country, efforts were made about the middle of the century to establish the art by the aid of workmen from Murano, and the history of glass manufactured in England may be said to have fairly begun. It was undoubtedly stimulated by the religious persecutions on the Continent, particularly the Spanish Terror in the Netherlands, for the Low Countries were seriously endeavouring to rival Murano in the art, and the craftsmen who fled for refuge to England undoubtedly did much to develop their trade in the country of their adoption, as did the Huguenot refugees at a later period.

Fig. 39.

In the seventeenth century the whole process was revolutionised by the introduction of a large proportion of oxide of lead, making what is technically known as “flint” glass—a glass much more brilliant than any other, a quality due partly to its transparency and partly to its increased refractive power, which renders it specially fitted for “cutting”—a process which enhances its beauty by increasing the number of ways in which the light rays falling on the glass are dispersed. The discovery has given English glass a well-deserved pre-eminence for beauty of metal—a pre-eminence which the glass-cutters of the eighteenth century admirably sustained by the excellence of their work.

All this time the art of glass-making on the Continent had been developing. In particular, the Venetian workers at Murano had perfected the art of colouring and enamelling glass—a result which was later to have its influence upon English artists. An admirable example of what they achieved in this direction is an old spinet in the South Kensington Museum, which once belonged to Queen Elizabeth of Bohemia, the daughter of James I. Whatever its merits as a musical instrument, its once gorgeous gilt crimson leather case hides an interior of the utmost interest to students of glass, for the interior of the lid is panelled into eighteen divisions, each representing some classical subject—Narcissus, Daphne, Andromeda, Argus, etc.—admirably done in coloured glass. The front of the keyboard, the stretcher bar and the keys themselves are also elaborately decorated in similar fashion with coloured glass, silver or enamel. The keys are covered with ornaments in coloured glass, the accidentals being faced with blue and white striped glass and the naturals being fronted with the same.

Although it is no part of the purpose of this book to deal in detail with the technical side of the manufacture of glass, yet some few words as to the nature of the material with which we are dealing are not only desirable but essential to the proper understanding of its various qualities and kinds and the different stages of its manufacture.

The scientist will tell us that glass is a double silicate, being compounded of a silicate of sodium (or potassium) and a silicate of lime. For the benefit of non-scientific readers, we may remark that a silicate is a chemical compound formed when silica combines with an alkaline substance like lime, soda, or potash. Silica is probably the most widely distributed substance in nature. Silicate of alumina is, for example, the basis of all clayey soils, and silica, in the pure form of quartz, is the chief constituent of the sand of the sea and of all those rocks which are known as sandstones. Rock-crystal, amethyst, agate, onyx, jasper, flint, etc., are all varieties of silica. Crystalline silica is hard enough to scratch glass—a fact utilised, as we shall see, in the sand-blast which is used for the purpose of engraving patterns on glass. Silica is fusible only at a very high temperature, but readily combines with alkaline substances to form soluble silicates, which are known in commerce as soluble glass, or water-glass, because it dissolves readily in hot water. Water-glass is used in making artificial stone, in coating stone surfaces, e.g. walls of buildings, etc., to preserve the stone from decay under the weathering influence of the atmosphere, and in the manufacture of cement.

Ordinary glass has many valuable properties which make it of great importance in the arts and manufactures. Among these may be mentioned the fact that it can be made to take any shape with ease. It resists the action of all ordinary acids, and hence is of the utmost value to the chemist and the chemical manufacturer. Hydrofluoric acid alone attacks it, by combining readily with its silica and so dissolving it. For this reason, hydrofluoric acid is used in etching on glass. Again, glass is cheap, being literally made from the dust of the earth; it is transparent, and so can be used in buildings, transmitting light whilst protecting from the inclemency of the weather. Its transparency, too, combined with its high refractive power, make it of inestimable value in the manufacture of optical instruments. It is this high refractive power, too, which gives to cut glass its beautiful lustre and sparkle, and one aim of the glass-founder is to increase this refractive power and so enhance the brilliancy of his product. If glass could be made which would refract light to the same extent as the diamond does, it would exhibit the same “fire” as the king of gems. It is hard and close in texture, and so is capable of taking a high polish. Its great drawback is its brittleness, but this can be reduced to a great extent by immersing it, whilst red-hot, in a hot bath of paraffin oil, wax, or resin. A tumbler of glass so “tempered” may be dropped on the floor without breaking.

It may be added, as a matter of common interest, that this brittleness is largely a result of the fact that glass is an extremely bad conductor of heat. Because of this, a mass of molten glass, when cooling, becomes set on its outside surface long before the interior has become solidified; hence the solid exterior prevents the molecules of the interior portion from contracting. As a result, a condition of strain is established, the interior molecules tending to contract, while the exterior tends in the opposite direction; consequently a very slight blow is enough to cause a fracture.

Varieties of Glass.—As we shall frequently find it necessary to refer to the various kinds of glass, it may be as well at the outset to attempt to give a clear idea of their differences and of the meanings of the various terms employed in describing them.

As regards quality, the chief kinds are crown glass, flint glass, plate glass, bottle glass, and crystal glass, and the differences in composition may be conveniently expressed in the form of a table:—

Cheapest of all glass is bottle glass, where the base is mainly lime. The metal used for medicine bottles contains more potash and is purer and clearer. The use of potash and soda makes the glass more easily fusible; alumina has the opposite effect; lime makes a harder glass; lead gives lustre, increases fusibility, and heightens the refractive power. Hence in glass which is to be cut and polished the employment of lead in sufficient quantity is a factor of the highest importance. This is a point to be specially noted in connection with English glass. Lead—chiefly the oxides known as litharge and minium—in small quantities has long been employed, the introduction of the metal serving as a flux, but lead glass was generally avoided as being too brittle. Merret, writing in 1662, remarks that could this glass be made as tough as crystalline, “it would far surpass it in the glory and beauty of its colours.” It will be noted that the two kinds of glass in which lead is used in quantity are flint glass and crystal. The larger the amount of lead the greater the beauty and brilliancy of the product, a result due, as previously intimated, to the increase in refractive power that is brought about by its addition.

Flint glass derives its name from the fact that in England the silica, which is the main constituent of all glass, was procured from flints which were calcined and pulverised. Being highly refractive it is extensively employed in the manufacture of optical instruments—telescopes, microscopes, etc. Quartz and fine sand are now used in the place of flints. The glass is soft, and hence easily scratched and dulled. It is essential that only the purest materials be employed, and special furnaces and pots are needed. Flint glass was known in quite early times. It was probably discovered by accident that certain stones were fusible, for fossil glass is found in many places where great fires have been. Volcanic glass—obsidian—is a well-known substance, while there exist in Scotland ancient forts, the stones of which have been fused together by the action of heat. The Venetians used quartz in preference to sand, since the latter was liable to contain impurities, and the Venetian craftsmen who settled in England were accustomed to ensure the purity of their silica by calcining flints. Crown glass is the finest sort of ordinary window glass. Plate glass is the superior kind of thick glass used for mirrors, shop windows, etc. It will be noted that it is the only kind of glass which contains soda.

The process of glass manufacture comprises three stages, mixing, melting, and blowing. The various ingredients are first finely ground and then thoroughly mixed by the aid of a mixer, forming what is known as the “batch.” This is placed in melting pots. These are crucibles of fire-clay, i.e. clay capable of withstanding the action of heat. The clay must be of the finest quality, and be carefully freed from extraneous matters which might affect the quality of the glass. Hence the manufacture of the “pots” is itself an industry of some importance, and as each costs some £10, they form an important item in the expense of manufacture, especially as the pots are short-lived, some eight to ten weeks being the average life of one of them.

The ordinary pot is an inverted section of a cone, the apex being closed. For flint glass a covered pot is essential, the form ordinarily adopted being a bell-jar closed at the bottom and with an arched opening at the top. Each pot holds from ten to fifteen cwt. of the “batch.” When full, the pots are placed in specially constructed furnaces, holding from five to fifteen pots, and capable of producing a temperature of from 10,000° to 12,000° F. The details of the firing are intricate and interesting but have no direct bearing on our purpose; their object is to produce complete fusion, to allow for the removal of all impurities, and to ensure the homogeneity of the product.

The final stage with which we are concerned is that of blowing, since all table glass, worthy of being called table glass, is blown. In other words, every decanter, vase, tumbler, and wine glass of the better sort begins its existence as a bubble of molten glass at the end of an iron tube—the glass-blower’s tube—and owes its form to the delicate touches of simple tools held in a skilful hand and guided by a trained eye. It is this fact which gives glass its individuality. There is no hard-and-fast rigour of line, no mechanical uniformity of shape, such as is associated with machine-made goods; even the simplest wine glass is an individual thing, which the taste of the craftsman has endowed with artistic distinction whilst retaining its simplicity of form.

It is a matter for regret that the glass-blower’s art is seriously threatened in these latter days of hurry and competition. The demand for cheap glass has led to the introduction of blowing machines, in which the bubble of molten glass is taken up by one of many blowing tubes, and placed inside a mould, air being driven by machinery through the other end of the tube and inflating the bubble until it touches the sides of its mould. The budding craftsman thus loses the practice of blowing these simpler forms, and as he is now forbidden to work at the furnaces until he is over fourteen, he often fails to acquire that lightness and dexterity of hand which are the mark of the first-rate craftsman, and which can be most readily gained in early life. There is, of course, no reason why common vessels should not be produced in this way, and tumblers, decanters, and lamp glasses are so manufactured in large numbers.

Needless to say, moulded or pressed glass has little value, either intrinsic or artistic, in the collector’s eye, unless it has acquired distinction on account of its age; for moulded or pressed glass has been known from early times, and it is of the greater interest, since only English glass, i.e. flint glass, or glass of similar characteristics, can profitably be so dealt with. It will be readily understood that only glass of a low melting point, which does not quickly solidify, and which at the moment of solidification expands and fills out the interstices of the mould, can be successfully treated in this way. One bar to the extensive use of this form of glass was the cost of the essential lead and potash. These are often now replaced by baryta and lime, with the result that a very suitable glass is produced, which contains no appreciable quantity of either lead or potash.

The art of glass-cutting in Europe dates back to the middle of the sixteenth century, when it was extensively practised on the Continent, particularly in Bohemia. The earliest examples were probably imitated from the rock-crystal cups of ancient Greece and Rome. There is no doubt that in both these countries the art was practised for the ornamentation of the famous crystallinum, whilst some vessels were undoubtedly cut out of the solid block.

The discovery of flint glass revolutionised the art of glass ornamentation. The strong refractive powers of the new glass made it specially suitable for cutting, which brought out a wonderful fire and sparkle that even the finest art of Bohemia and Venice had not been able to attain. At first, of course, the English craftsmen were far inferior in artistic merit—both as regards design and execution—to those of Bohemia; but the superior brilliancy of the metal atoned to a great extent for the deficiencies of the workmen, and Early English cut wine glasses and punch glasses are by no means to be despised. “L’article Anglais solide et confortable, mais sans élégance,” spread the fame and fashion of English glass throughout the Continent and, incidentally, over the world.

The earliest examples of English cut glass are perhaps the thistle-shaped glasses, originally fashioned in Bohemia but adopted by Scotland as representing the national emblem. Apart from these, the ogee-shape was most commonly selected as being more amenable to artistic treatment than the bell.

The stem is usually knopped and cut into facets, and is invariably hexagonal in shape. The cutting is continued beyond the top of the stem on to the lower part of the bowl, so as to give a kind of finish. Sometimes, indeed, the cutting is made to include the bowl in a scheme of decoration, and the rim is engraved with conventional designs, wreaths of flowers, etc. Towards the end of the eighteenth century the facets became long flutes.

The process technically known as glass-cutting is essentially one of grinding and polishing. The grinding is done by a wheel, made of cast-iron, and made to rotate rapidly by a continuous band passing over a revolving shaft. Above the wheel is a receptacle containing sand and water, which can be fed on to the wheel as desired. Smoothing is done by a sandstone wheel, similarly mounted, and polishing by a wooden one fed with putty powder. The craftsman holds his piece in the hand, pressing it against the rotating wheel.

Engraving is really very fine grinding, done usually with a copper wheel or, rather, disk, whilst etching is done by coating the glass with wax, or some similar protective substance, scratching the pattern through the wax and then subjecting the piece to the action of hydrofluoric acid.

It need hardly be said that only the best kinds of glass are cut by a method which makes such demands on the time and skill of the workman; the cheaper kinds of glass are all moulded or “pressed.” Pressed glass is also essentially English, no other kind, save flint glass, being suitable for treatment in this way. It is, in the first place, essential to obtain a metal which has a low melting point, and one which does not shrink in solidifying, as that would draw it away from the sides of the mould, and so effectively spoil the design. The low melting point of the metal enables the product to be “fire polished.” In this process it is reheated to a point sufficient to melt a thin surface layer, and so remove any roughness due to the process of moulding, and leave a smooth bright surface. The art of pressing glass has been brought to a high degree of perfection, elaborate decorations being produced with ease. The cost of the process, too, has in recent years been lessened by the use of baryta and lime, in the place of lead and potash, and in this way the output has been greatly cheapened, while baryta glass, if inferior in sparkle to lead glass, is yet far more brilliant than ordinary glass.

The problem how to distinguish real old glass from modern imitations is one that besets the collector at every stage of his progress. A few specimens supply their own testimony in the shape of a date, but it is by no means impossible to engrave a date on a piece of specious-looking real antiquity, and so give it a fictitious value, by making it appear “the thing which it is not.”

As to the character of the glasses themselves, shape alone is no criterion of age. Apart from the possibility of deliberate imitation, it does not follow that because a piece is ponderous, clumsy in appearance and, to a modern eye, unduly capacious, that it is necessarily an early piece. Right from the beginning of glass manufacture in England, two qualities, at least, were undoubtedly manufactured; the better to ornament the tables of the great, and the poorer for service in kitchen and tavern. Whereas articles of the former were as dainty and artistic as the skill of the craftsman would allow, the latter were roughly made and deliberately ponderous to bear the rougher usage to which they were subjected. As the same practice continues up to the present day, it follows that there is in existence a considerable quantity of common glass with all the attributes, as far as shape and clumsiness of form are concerned, of that of an earlier period.

Possibly the appearance of the metal and the style of workmanship are as reliable guides as any others. The metal of the earliest glasses was by no means perfect. Instead of the beautiful clarity and perfect transparency we are accustomed to associate with glass, there is often a streakiness or cloudiness visible in the material, together with numerous bubbles and flaws. If the striations are horizontal, the glass is of an earlier type than if they are perpendicular. The sides of the bowl are often irregular, and the stems are often clumsy, uneven, badly balanced, and altogether disproportionate in point of size to an eye accustomed to the slenderer style of modern glassware. An important point is the junction between the bowl and the stem. For some extraordinary reason, the welding of the two seems to have given the ancient glass-blowers considerable trouble, and the join is often too clearly perceptible. Hence the collector who comes across an apparently ancient piece bearing evident signs of clumsy joining should give it more than casual attention. Sometimes, to obviate the difficulty, the base of the bowl was made into a kind of knop, and at other times the junction was hidden by an irregular band—the prototype of the collar which so often appeared in glasses of a somewhat later period.

The bubble which appears in many stems was probably the outcome of accident and possibly of an attempt to imitate the hollow stems of Venetian glass. It is worthy of note that whilst the bubble is almost invariably present in the baser forms of early eighteenth-century glass, it is frequently absent from the finer varieties. Another point of difference is that the better specimens rarely have the folded foot, which is invariably present in the coarser makes, the turning under of the rim, whilst plastic, to make a kind of welt, being an obvious precaution against the rougher usage to which they were inevitably subjected. Sometimes the feet were domed, but these were difficult to make and the numbers were restricted. In some specimens ridges or ribs are formed on the upper and lower sides of the foot.

The earliest glasses were devoid of any attempt at decorative engraving, and these plain glasses may also be roughly classified by noting whether the glass rests on the flat of the foot or on the rim only. The former are of the earlier type.

Among the tests which the collector might apply are the following:—

Note whether the glass rings clear and sweet in tone. In twisted stems, note whether the stem twists to the left or the right. The genuine glasses have almost invariably stems twisted to the left. In opaque-twisted stems, note particularly the colour of the spiral. In the forgeries the opacity is less definite, the twist often having a kind of translucent look.

Genuine old glass often has a cloudy tinge with frequently a tone of steely blue. Forgeries may show a greenish tint.

In old glass the centre of the base, where the piece was, after being finished, knocked off the pontil, is generally left rough; in the imitations it is generally ground smooth.

The foot of a genuine old glass is never quite flat, there is always a slope—sometimes a very pronounced one—from the centre to the edge. The modern imitation, usually made abroad, often has a perfectly flat foot.

The edge of the bowl in a genuine old glass is always rounded, never left hard and sharp.

CHAPTER II
EARLY ENGLISH GLASS

THE early history of glass manufacture in Britain is decidedly obscure. The earliest specimens of the art extant are certain coloured beads, known as “aggry” beads. Many of these exist, some probably of Phœnician origin, others dating from the Roman occupation of Britain—being made either by the Romans themselves or by a British craftsman under Roman tuition.

There can be little doubt that the Romans did introduce the making of glass into this country, for glass was an indispensable adjunct to Roman life. Moreover, it was the custom for the conqueror to train the conquered in his own arts, and the Roman handicrafts followed the Roman Eagle. In any case, the art of glass-making had, according to Pliny, extended to Gaul, and there seems no reason why it should not also have crossed the Channel. Unfortunately, there is no evidence that it did.

There is, however, evidence that glass-making was carried on in Anglo-Saxon times—many specimens of Anglo-Saxon bead-work, etc., having been found in barrows, tumuli, and burying-places in general. They are composed of an opaque, vitreous paste—which in places approaches translucency. Unfortunately, the materials employed were impure, and the material has consequently disintegrated with time, making it a matter of exceeding difficulty to determine its original texture and appearance. The decoration, both as regards colouring and design, is primitive. The colour is crude, and the patterns consist mainly of simple geometrical figures, circles, chevrons, stripes, spirals, and so forth.

Possibly after the Roman withdrawal in 410, the art fell into abeyance, as did much of the civilisation imposed by the Romans, reviving again when the various Anglo-Saxon units began to develop a civilisation of their own, and to pass through various confederacies into a single kingdom.

Bede writes that in 675 “Benedict Biscop” sent for glass-workers from France to glaze the windows of the church at Wearmouth, and that they taught the English their handicraft, making not only windows but vessels.

The art must, however, have survived in certain places, for numbers of vessels which can be referred, on the authority of illuminated MSS., etc., to Saxon times, are in existence. Such specimens include (a) vases, ornamented with ribs and applied lobes. These are probably of German origin, and were introduced into Britain by the Saxon invaders. (b) Trumpet-shaped cups, ribbed, or stringed, or fluted. These have no base on which to stand, and are probably of English manufacture, dating from the latter half of the sixth century, (c) The third type is the “palm” cup, shaped so as to be conveniently held in the palm of the hand, having no bottom on which to stand; and (d) bowls of various shapes. The palm cups and bowls belong to the eighth and ninth centuries, and later. It should be remembered that the dates given can only be roughly approximate, and that the various periods fuse one into the other, so that there is no definite line of demarcation. Moreover, there is no definite proof that glass vessels were made in England during Saxon times, save only such

Fig. 38.

Saxon Glass.—1, 2, 3, Trumpet Cups; 4, a Ribbed and Lobed Vase; 5-9, Palm Cups and Vases.

statements as that of the Venerable Bede previously referred to. Only, while similar vessels are found both in France and Germany, it is claimed that a greater number and a greater variety are found in England, the inference being that they were made in this country.

So remarkable is the paucity of evidence and so absolute the dearth of authenticated examples in these Dark Ages of glass manufacture, that it has often been asserted that no glass vessels were made in England before the fifteenth century. Glass vessels were, of course, known and used, but these were probably, in the main at any rate, imported from Venice and the East. On the other hand, it is known that before the thirteenth century window glass—blown glass too, and not cast glass—was made, and very successfully. Indeed, old English coloured glass was particularly fine, and this being so, it is not easy to understand why the same art should not be applied to vessels.

Coarse glass vessels were certainly made at a very early date. The records of Chiddingfold refer to Laurence Vitrearius in 1230, William le Verir in 1301, and John Glasewryth in 1380. The record, in its transition from Latin to Norman-French, and then to Anglo-Saxon, has its philological interest as well, but it may be mentioned that John the Glasewryth made both “brode glas and vessel.”

There is, too, in existence an ancient cup of glass, disinterred from a tomb in Peterborough Abbey Church, which, from the records of the Abbey, must have been buried there, in all probability, in the first half of the thirteenth century. In the accounts of Henry, the second son of Edward I., who died in 1274, there is mentioned the purchase of a glass cup for the sum of twopence halfpenny, a fact which seems to imply that to be sold so cheaply the vessel must have been of domestic manufacture. It should not, however, be forgotten that this sum represented the daily wage of a skilled artisan in the thirteenth century. In the Taxation Roll of Colchester in 1295, three of the principal burgesses are referred to as “verrers,” and it seems hardly likely that so many important citizens were merely glaziers and not glass-makers. However, it is more than probable that the use of glass was confined to the noble and wealthy, while the common folk used vessels made of wood, horn, or leather. The “Leather Bottel” has passed into a proverb, and the Black Jack was so universal in its use that the French, naturally curious as to English habits, referred to us as a nation of savages who habitually drank out of their boots. It follows that the Black Jack of the thirteenth or fourteenth century had few of the graces of its silver-mounted and aristocratic descendant of the seventeenth century. It might be further suggested that English habits and customs in those early times were not such as to make fragile drinking vessels either useful or acceptable. Those that did exist were probably rather valued curiosities than articles of everyday utility.

There was, undoubtedly, produced during this period considerable quantities of window glass, much of it highly decorated, and exhibiting characteristics peculiar to the period to which it belongs, so that experts find little difficulty in distinguishing between the vigour of the thirteenth and the brilliancy of the fourteenth century. It would appear, too, that the home product won an increasing appreciation from the architects who employed it in their buildings; for whereas in 1547 the contractor binds himself not to use it for the windows of the Beauchamp Chapel at Warwick, in 1485 it is mentioned in such a way as to imply that it was either better or dearer, or both, than “Dutch, Venice, or Normandy glass.”

In the sixteenth century, however, the fashion of using vessels of glass became almost universal in the west of Europe. Most of these came from Venice, and, spurred by the desire of establishing so lucrative an industry at home, the rulers of various countries—notably France, Holland, and England—sought to induce Venetian craftsmen to settle in them.

The glass-workers of Murano—the great glass-making centre in Venice—were, however, a close corporation, the workmen being stringently bound, under penalty of death, not to carry their trade secrets to any other country or to teach them to foreigners. In spite of this, eight Muranese glass-workers were induced to settle in England in 1549, and built their furnace in the monastery of the Crutched Friars—one of the minor orders. They derived their name Crutched (i.e. Crossed) from the ornamental cross which adorned their habits. Of the eight, seven returned to Venice in 1551, having previously petitioned the Council of Ten to remit the penalties against them. It is a reasonable assumption—but still only an assumption—that during their stay they did much to further the art of glass-making, although they merely produced glass and sedulously refrained from teaching their “mystery.”

The “Breviary of Philosophy,” published in 1557, remarks:

“As to glassemakers they be scant in this land
Yet one there is as I doe understand,
And in Sussex is now his habitacion,
At Chiddingfold he works by his occupacion.”

Evidently, therefore, the old Sussex industry had survived. The product of the Chiddingfold furnaces was probably, however, a coarse green glass, and by no means to be compared with the Venetian article.

In 1564 Cornelius de Lannoy, an alchemist from the Netherlands, came to England, at the invitation of the Government, to teach the art of glass-making as practised in the Low Countries. He took up his abode and set up his furnace in Somerset House. He failed, however, with the materials then available, to produce any very effective results; in particular, the clay used for the pots failed to withstand the great heat required to produce transparent glass. Moreover, de Lannoy proved to be more alchemist than glass-maker, and left various persons in England the poorer for their quest after the philosopher’s stone which they had undertaken under his guidance.

In 1567 Pierre Briet and Jean Carré sought a licence to make glass after the French fashion, and to teach to English craftsmen the art of its manufacture as practised in Lorraine and Normandy. Elizabeth, always with an eye to the main chance, made no difficulty and, joining forces with a rival licencee, Becker, set up in opposition to the English glass-makers in Sussex and later at Stourbridge and Newcastle. The fact that the native workers openly confessed their inability to compete with the French craftsmen did not prevent their stirring up a strong opposition against them, which found vent in popular tumult and, in at least one instance, in a conspiracy to murder the workers, pillage their stores and destroy their furnaces. There seems little doubt, however, that their presence must have influenced the quality of English glass and given an impetus to its manufacture. So did the advent of political and religious refugees from the Low Countries and from France, and also, though, of course, to a far greater degree, the influx of French artisans in the seventeenth century after the revocation of the famous Edict of Nantes. In spite of their efforts, however, it does not appear that the importation of fine Venetian glass was in any way checked; it continued, indeed, on an extensive scale for a long time after.

The most famous name in the history of Elizabethan glass manufacture is that of Jacob Verzelini, who came to London in 1575 and stayed for the remainder of his life—about thirty years. He obtained a patent giving him the monopoly of manufacturing glass after the Venetian style for twenty-one years. He set up his establishment in the hall of the Crutched Friars, where the eight Venetians had built their furnace in 1549, and there made “glass of divers sorts to drink in.” There is little doubt as to his success, although, with one possible exception, no tangible evidence of it remains. But if one may judge by the very considerable outcry that arose at this period against permitting foreigners to practise the art of glass-making to the detriment of native practitioners, he succeeded sufficiently well to arouse a strong feeling of jealousy. This was intensified by the traders who had hitherto sold imported Venetian glass, and the seamen who carried it in their vessels and who now saw their livelihood menaced.

The general public, too, showed itself greatly concerned over the great consumption of wood in the glass-houses. Indeed, during this period the wasting of the woods was a general complaint wherever furnaces were set up. So strong was this feeling, indeed, that in 1584 an act was passed against the making of glass by strangers and outlandish men and for the preservation of woods spoiled by glass-houses; and in 1589, the year after the Armada, it was proposed to reduce the number of glass-houses from fifteen to four, transferring the rest to Ireland, where the loss of trees did not matter so much, the timber not being urgently needed, as in England, for the purpose of shipbuilding. One curious fact is that for a long time—from the twelfth century at least in unbroken record—English window glass of a high order had been produced, as witness the windows of King’s College Chapel at Cambridge, which date from 1515-31; and it seems impossible to conceive that, with Venetian and Eastern glass to copy, the craftsmen who produced the windows should not have also turned their skill to the making of drinking vessels, particularly as the fashion for vessels of glass had strongly set in.

“It is a world to see in these our daies wherein gold and silver most aboundeth how that our gentilitie as lothing these mettals (because of the plentie) do now generalie choose rather the Venice glasses both for our wine and beere than anie of those mettals or stone wherein beforetime we have beene accustomed to drink....

“The poorest also will have glasse if they may but sith the Veneccian is somewhat too deere for them they content themselves with such as are made at home of ferne and burned stone, but in fine all go one way that is to shards at the last.”

On the other hand, when Sir Richard Mansel applied in 1624 for a patent to manufacture glass and to train Englishmen in the art, it was opposed, on the ground that fifty years before a similar patent had been granted to Jacob Verzelini and that it had been altogether neglected, and very few Englishmen had been brought up in the art. Mansel, in his reply, stated that he himself had brought many strangers from beyond seas to instruct his fellow-countrymen in making all sorts of glass, crystalline, Murano, spectacle glasses, and mirror plates.

I have stated these facts in the early history of English glass at some length not only for their intrinsic interest, but also to illustrate the curious fact that just as there is from Saxon times to 1550 a gap in the history of its manufacture, which no authenticated examples assist to fill, so from the accession of Queen Elizabeth to that of King Charles I. there exist to-day very few indisputable examples of the English glass-blower’s art of this period; and yet it is hardly possible to believe that they were not produced in considerable quantity. For, in spite of specimens bearing the Tudor rose—an ornament, by the way, largely employed at a later date—and of others with detailed and more or less accredited histories, “Elizabethan glass,” so glibly spoken of by some collectors, is chiefly conspicuous by its absence. Happy, therefore, the collector who acquires even a dubious example.

One famous specimen which may safely be assumed to be authentic is that from the British Museum Collection shown in Fig. 1. This drinking cup or goblet stands about 5¼ in. in height and bears the initials G. S.—probably those of the person for whom it was made—the date 1586, and the motto, “IN: GOD: IS: AL: MY: TRVST.” Experts generally concur in attributing it to Jacob Verzelini.

Four years after the Armada, Elizabeth granted to one Thomas Bowes a monopoly to make drinking glasses “to be as good cheape or better cheape than those imported from Venice.” As to the success of his venture history is silent. In the reign of her successor—that British Solomon, James I.—glass-making seems, however, to have made considerable progress; for in 1610 a licence was granted for “the invention of coal-heated glass-houses,” and in the following year Sir Edward Zouche expended no less a sum than £5000 in erecting glass-houses in Lambeth and perfecting the production of glass with sea-coal. This change is a momentous one in the history of glass-making, inasmuch as it became necessary to cover the pots, and this brought about various improvements. They are mainly associated with the name of Percival, and it is to be presumed that they included the introduction of oxide of lead into the frit in quantity, with the result of producing a more brilliant crystal than had yet been produced. From this time English glass began to acquire fame, and the industry became a definitely British art.

One outcome of this change in the method of manufacture was that the industry became localised, the glass-houses springing up in those districts where it was easy to obtain fuel as on the coal-fields, where the sand was of exceptional quality as at Reigate, or where there was an abundance of clay suitable for making the pots as at Stourbridge.

One of the most interesting discoveries in connection with the history of the glass industry in England was made some sixty or seventy

FIG. 1.—AN EARLY ELIZABETHAN GLASS, DATED 1586.

FIG. 2.—AN OLD ENGLISH GLASS TANKARD AND COVER.

years ago at the little Hampshire village of Buckholt Wood. Excavations here brought to light fragments of glass, some clear, others with a greenish or bluish tinge, evidently portions of broken vessels of various kinds—drinking glasses, jugs, bottles, and so forth. These were in such quantity that it was evident chance had brought to light one of the old glass-houses, which were founded in well-wooded districts, and kept going as long as sufficient wood remained to burn.

We have seen how, in the beginning, English glass-workers were a nomad race. As the woods in one place were exhausted they moved to fresh fields and forests new—much to the annoyance of the populace, who depended upon those woods for their household firing, and of the Government, who sought to preserve them for the maintenance of the fleet.

In 1615 a proclamation was made forbidding the use of wood for glass smelting, the furnaces being in future compelled to burn sea-coal or charcoal or other fuel. The same ordinance prohibited the importation of foreign glass or the immigration of foreign glass-workers.

In the same year Sir Richard Mansel, a man of considerable standing in the realm, who had been experimenting in glass-making with the aid of Venetian workmen, was granted a licence for making glass with coal, and set up furnaces in London and at Purbeck, Milford Haven and Newcastle. It is a matter for regret that no product of his furnaces is known to exist to-day, a fact the more surprising in that his licence was renewed at various times, and so covers a considerable stretch of the most interesting period of the art. At any rate we find him petitioning in 1641 that he might be protected against persons importing glass from abroad, whereas he was paying a rent of £1000 per annum for his monopoly. His name is mentioned as late as 1653, so that for nearly forty years he controlled, more or less, the business of glass production in England.

It is a matter for some congratulation, however, that Mansel employed, in some kind of managerial capacity in his Broad Street works, a certain James Howell, who enjoys the reputation of being one of the liveliest and most pleasing writers of the period. In the famous Howell’s letters, “Epistolæ Ho-Elianæ,” which were published between 1645 and 1655, we have a delightful commentary on the events of his time, and incidentally a number of curious and useful sidelights on the conduct of glass manufacture both in England and on the Continent.

It is said that Sir Kenelm Digby, of Royalist fame, invented in 1632 the art of making glass bottles to contain the wine which hitherto had been drawn straight from the wood. But Fame which credits him with this discovery would seem to have forgotten that in Elizabeth’s time ale was sold in glass bottles, and a quaint old volume yclept “The English Housewife” refers in 1575 to round bottles with narrow necks for “bottle ale,” the corks being tied down with stout string.

The Commonwealth, save for what may be gleaned from Howell’s pages, adds but little to our knowledge of glass. The Puritans were, perhaps, more addicted to smashing it, in the form of stained-glass windows, than manufacturing it for domestic utilities. But with the Restoration there came a great change. The then Duke of Buckingham, who appears, like others of his name, to have had a keen eye to the main chance, started a glass furnace at Greenwich. In 1663 he petitioned the King that he might be granted a licence to make mirrors, he having been at great expense in finding out the art and mystery thereof—“a manufactory not known nor heretofore used in England”—a curious contradiction to Mansel’s claim in 1620, and one which seems to imply that the Duke was by no means particular as to what he said provided he might gain his ends.

There were numbers of competitors at the time all claiming to be the inventors of crystal glass. The authorities, however, awarded the palm to one Thomas Tilson, who in 1663 was granted a patent, in which he is described as the inventor of crystal glass. It appears clear that Tilson had produced a material of greater merit than any of his predecessors or contemporaries. It is probable that this material was lead glass—flint glass as it was and is still called. One point in support of this theory is that it was too brittle to be used in making vessels, and Tilson consequently confined himself to the manufacture of mirrors, windows for coaches, etc.

Specimens of the work of this period may be found in many places—country houses, mansions, halls, etc.—throughout the country. At Hampton Court Palace there are, for example, several magnificent mirrors that testify to the skill of the craftsmen—Venetian and English—of this period. Some of the window glass is of the same date and may be readily distinguished by its mauve tinge—a possible result of the action of light on the peroxide of manganese, which was one of the constituents. At a slightly later date other glass-houses were founded in Lambeth, Stourbridge, Newcastle-on-Tyne, and other places, notably in Surrey and Sussex.

All this while, however, there was a great trade in imported Venetian glass, which the Council was, time and again, petitioned to prohibit. Fortunately both for the future of the art of glass-making in England and for the cheapness and quality of the ware, which was now in great demand, the efforts of the protectionists were unavailing.

Much of our knowledge of the glass of the period is due to the discovery of the trading books and order sheets of one John Greene, who seems to have dealt in imported glass, ordering from the Venetian furnaces vessels to his own specification and design. Fortunately some specimens of these are still in existence, but it need hardly be said that examples of the seventeenth century, both home manufactured and imported, are of the extremest rarity. He would be a fortunate collector who should discover, say, “a speckled emerald coverd beere glasse” or a “milk-whit cruet” either with or without “feet and ears of good hansom fashion.”

In point of shape the Venetian and English glasses of this period differ very little, but there is a considerable difference in the character of the metal. The glass from Venice is colder to the eye, whiter and softer than the English, which is more brilliant and of a peculiar steely lustre, while it is far weightier—a fact probably due to the use of a considerable proportion of lead. The English glasses, too, are heavier in appearance, with stems, thick and lumpy, of the baluster type. Often, too, the bulbous stem is blown with a bubble,

FIG. 3.—AN EARLY GLASS FEEDING CUP.

FIG. 4.—A SIXTEENTH CENTURY PANEL GLASS, WITH PORTRAIT OF CHARLES II.

often of considerable size—a primitive attempt at ornamentation. Not unseldom a coin is inserted in the bulb of the stem or the knop of the cover. One famous example of Caroline glass is the magnificent posset cup in the possession of Miss Whitmore Jones, which is shown in Fig. 2. This unmistakably dates from the time of Charles II. and is a genuine example of English art. It was probably, as to design, copied from a Venetian model, but the texture of the glass and the weight of the piece are strong evidences of its English origin. With the accession of William, the craft was further stimulated by the importation of many models, and possibly craftsmen from the Low Countries. Speaking generally however, the vessels of the reigns of William and of Anne are but improved specimens of those of Charles. Some, however, have spiral lines cut round the stems, and are, to this extent, the prototypes of the twisted stems of the eighteenth century.

The illustration of a feeding cup ([Fig. 3]) provides an excellent example of the work of this period. Its admirable shape and style and its exquisite workmanship will readily appeal not only to connoisseurs but also to all who are capable of appreciating artistic merit.

In Fig. 5 we have portrayed the prototype of the modern tankard. Judging by the shape and style it was probably an ale glass. But that it was intended rather as a specimen to be preserved is evidenced from the fact that a coin of the period has been blown into the base. Fig. 6 is a photograph showing the coin. Such a piece has almost the value of a dated specimen, for though it was, of course, possible to insert a coin of any previous date, the reason for doing so is by no means obvious. It is hardly likely, for example, that anyone living in William’s reign would have so enthusiastic a regard for Charles II. as to cause a coin of that monarch to be embedded in a piece that he had made as an heirloom. This specimen is in the British Museum, whose mark appears to the right of the photograph.

The quaint glass panel seen in Fig. 4 is an interesting relic of the attention paid to glass-working at this period. The portrait is that of Old Rowley (Charles II.) himself, and the piece was in all probability made at Greenwich, possibly in commemoration of his visit

FIG. 5.

FIG. 6.—THE CENTRE SHOWING THE COIN BLOWN IN THE STEM OF THE TANKARD SHOWN ON THE LEFT-HAND SIDE.

there. It was taken from a house in Purfleet and is now in the National Collection.

The revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 gave a vast impetus to glass-working as to other crafts. This measure, and the terrible persecutions which followed it, cost France a number, variously estimated at from 250,000 to 600,000, of her best citizens. Great numbers of these immigrants settled in England, and founded in their new home the industries which had become famous in the country of their birth. Among them came glass-workers from Paris, Lorraine, and other parts of France, who were deservedly famous for their skill in their craft. Coming as they did at a time when the discovery of the brilliant so-called flint glass gave to English glassware a distinction possessed by no other, it is small wonder that the next half-century saw such developments in the art of glass manufacture in England that English glass became superior to all other kinds, even to the famous glass of Bohemia, which seemed dull and lustreless beside it.

For these reasons the close of the seventeenth century is an epoch in the history of English glass, and the period which followed it saw the art of glass manufacture in England attain its zenith.

It is therefore with eighteenth-century glass that we are chiefly concerned, and as the great bulk of eighteenth-century glass consisted of drinking glasses, a great portion of our space will be devoted to these.

At the outset some attempt at classification is desirable. We may refer the reader to the very exhaustive list of varieties which that great authority, Mr. Albert Hartshorne, has made in his standard work on this subject. For our purpose it will be sufficient, however, to make a broad and simple division of drinking glasses into wine glasses, ale and beer glasses, and cordial or spirit glasses. It is the custom, too, to draw a distinction between the rude vessels made for common household or tavern use and the finer and more highly finished examples designed for the use of better-class people. Here, however, the distinction is rather one of quality than of kind.

The three great groups to which we have referred fall into various classes according to the diversity of shape in bowl and stem and, to a less degree, of foot.

The bowls are variously funnel-shaped, with straight sides, or waisted, that is, with the sides curved inward to form a waist, bell-shaped, and ogee or double-ogee shaped—the last named showing in section the ogee curve, so widely employed by the architect for his mouldings.

The stems are of two great classes—drawn stems or stuck stems. The former are parts of the same lump of molten glass of which the bowl is formed; the latter consist of a separate piece fused into the bowl.

As regards shape, stems may be plain rods, rods with knops, rib-twisted, faceted, air-twisted, air-drawn, or opaque-twisted. We shall deal with each variety in its appropriate place.

With regard to the foot, the generality were folded, that is to say, the edge of the rim was turned under to form a fold or welt, so that the glass stands on the rim, and not on the flat of the foot. Apart from this, the only variations are those bearing on the flatness of the foot and its diameter. In old glasses the feet were never quite flat. There is always a perceptible slope from the centre to the rim, and very often the central portion rose up into a dome. The foot was also wider in comparison with the width of the bowl than in the modern type.

The decoration is of two kinds, engraved and cut. The character of the engraving is little to the credit of the native designer or craftsman. Indeed, both as regards artistic design or skilful execution, English glass ornamentation is distinctly inferior to that of the Continental pieces. The usual design is the rose, at first heraldic and conventional, and then more and more natural, with at first a butterfly, which gradually dwindled to a moth, and then finally disappeared. Other designs are based upon the nature of the liquids drunk, or refer to politics, domestic or business affairs, or to some famous personage. The largest group of designs is associated with Jacobitism—“Charlie-over-the-water-ism,” as some one has wittily called it. In rare cases these bore a portrait; more commonly the emblem selected was the use of two buds—the latter explained as referring to the two sons of James II., or to the two sons of the Old Pretender, Charles Edward of “Charlie-is-my-darling” fame, and Henry, who died at Rome in 1807, as Cardinal York.

CHAPTER III
EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY GLASS

THE eighteenth century is the “Golden Age” of the collector of English glass. At the beginning of the century glass manufacture was already a flourishing industry. Vessels of all kinds for ornament, keepsakes, and for domestic use were being produced in great quantities, and there was a strong and growing competition between the native craftsmen and the glass-workers of Venice, Bohemia, Germany, and the Low Countries, a competition which, thanks to the superiority of the new English “flint” glass, was steadily trending in favour of the English product.

As a result, the collector is at once on firmer ground. His knowledge of earlier periods had been gleaned haphazard from drawings, paintings, tapestries, mosaics, and historical documents, with only here and there a specimen, and that of dubious authenticity, to guide him. From this time he is able to observe at first hand, compare, classify, note differences, excellences, and defects. There is no longer any lack of material, either of the finer sort suitable for the tables of the great and wealthy, or of the coarser kind whose only merit was utility.

With the growing profusion, however, came a veritable confusion of types, which renders any attempt at classification a matter of very considerable difficulty. To a great extent this arose from the toping habits of our forefathers in perhaps the most convivial period of our history. There was a vast improvement in social conditions and amenities, and the variety of glasses that sprang into existence affords ample testimony to this, as well as to the variety of drinks in favour and to the ingenuity of the times in devising toasts and sentiments, no less than to the skill of the English craftsmen and the individuality of the various makers.

At the beginning of the century, however, the use of different glasses for different kinds of wine had not yet arisen. A bowl of water was placed on the table in which the drinkers rinsed their glasses when a new vintage made its appearance. Subsequently each guest had

Fig. 40.

Examples of Baluster Stems and Tear Glasses.

his special bowl for this purpose. These bowls are exceedingly rare, and are generally described as wine-coolers. Their modern equivalent is the finger bowl.

There was naturally a vast difference between the glass of the early part of the century and that of the later part. Speaking very broadly, the order of progress was as follows:—

• 1. Heavy glass with baluster stems.
• 2. Lighter glass with air-twisted stems.
• 3. Drawn stems.
• 4. Opaque-twisted stems.
• 5. Cut glass.

Many of these glasses are still in existence and it is even possible for the amateur collector to acquire an occasional specimen. This early eighteenth-century glass is of remarkable quality, both as regards form and lustre. It is true that it is less perfect in shape and texture than the products of to-day, but it is superior in artistic merit, in originality of design and softness of outline. The lack of perfect symmetry is one of its charms, as it is in the case of old lace which, so far as absolute and meticulous perfection of detail is concerned, is often far behind the modern machine-made product. But what it lacks in symmetry and precision is more than compensated by artistic feeling.

Mr Hartshorne in his monumental work on “Old English Glasses,” a work to which the present writer and every other writer on the subject must acknowledge a vast indebtedness, makes an exhaustive classification of the various types of eighteenth-century glasses. To his order one is bound closely to conform, although it is far from the province of the present work to attempt to deal exhaustively with the various types he so fully and admirably describes.

The earliest examples have funnel-shaped bowls with tall stems. These are of great variety of shape. Some are quite plain, others are twisted, others ribbed. Some, again, are “baluster” shaped, i.e. formed after the pattern of the columns of a balustrade. Many have a knop or button in the middle, others are ornamented with twisted lines, either hollow or filled with glass of different colours, interwoven in spirals, twists, networks and plaits in all kinds of ingenious ways.

Of course, all these things being distinctive are imitable, and here the peril of the collector begins. The expert is rarely deceived as to whether any specimen is genuine old glass; but so pervasive and so perfect are the imitations that exist, and so plausible the conditions under which they are found, that it behoves the amateur to use the extremest caution. I propose to deal at some length with some of the more obvious and frequent frauds and fakes in a subsequent chapter. But for the moment it may be said that the best test of genuineness is neither shape nor any particular design—for these can be closely imitated—but the colour. There is a curious tint in old glass which the new never quite achieves. The would-be small collector will be well advised if, before riding his hobby, he goes through a brief course of eye-training under the guidance of an expert, until he gets the exact tone of the old glass firmly impressed upon his memory. As an additional factor, it should always be borne in mind that the old glass is invariably heavier than its modern imitation.

It will be desirable at this point to describe in brief detail the more important of the types of eighteenth-century glass enumerated on page 59.

Glasses with Incised and Ribbon-twisted Stems.—The incised or ribbon-twisted stemmed glass

Fig. 41.

as shown in Fig. 36, is usually about 6 inches high with, generally, a flanged or outward curved top and a comparatively slender stem. A series of ribs was impressed by a mould on the stem whilst yet plastic. The stem was fixed to its bowl, heated till soft, and then gently twisted and, at the same time, stretched. The result was a twist, produced in exactly the same way as in a stick of candy—close at the top and gradually loosening toward the bottom. Near the foot, by the way, the spiral generally disappears entirely as the effect of the heating process necessary when the foot was joined to the stem. The bowl was almost invariably waisted, that is, its sides were bent inwards. The foot was folded and there was a characteristic lessening in the diameter of the stem as it neared the bottom, which the “puller” of toffee will readily understand.

Air-twisted Stems.—The air-twist probably began with a “tear.” The tear of the glass-blower is a bubble of air blown into the centre of a mass of molten glass, possibly at first by accident and afterwards by design, as a form of ornamentation. When the stem was

FIG. 7—AIR-TWIST STEMS.

(From the Rees Price Collection, by permission of the Connoisseur).

drawn out, the bubble elongated into a tube, and when the stem was twisted, the tube acquired a spiral shape. Now as the tube was filled with air, which had a different refractive capacity to the glass which surrounded it, the effect of the light falling upon it was to produce a kind of silvery radiance like that of quicksilver. The phenomenon is familiar to anyone who has ever plunged a substance like wool, which contains air-bubbles entangled among its meshes, under water. The bubbles are transformed into drops like quicksilver. So with the tear and the tube drawn from it in the air-twisted stem. Naturally the decorative potentialities of this phenomenon were speedily recognised and utilised, and the air-twisted stems are among the most characteristic and the most beautiful features of all old English glasses.

The bowls were usually of the same general shape as those with incised and ribbon-twisted stems. The earlier varieties are “waisted,” the later ones frequently assume the bell shape. They are often engraved, the early ones with the Tudor rose, with its five petals, while the later ones affect the Stuart variety with six petals. The earliest stems have necks and collars—there was considerable difficulty in joining the air-twisted stem on to the bowl without damaging the twist. Later varieties have necks only. The collars are sometimes knopped, i.e. have knobs attached, and the stems themselves are shouldered.

I have dealt at some length with the air-twisted stems, since this is a characteristic English variety, and one to which the brilliant English flint glass was specially adapted. Consequently the type persisted for a considerable period. The later varieties, however, achieve some little distinction by the adoption of the bell-shaped bowl.

Drawn Stems.—I have already suggested that the fusion of the air-twisted stem, in order to join it to the bowl, not unfrequently resulted in damage to the twist. It was an obvious solution of the difficulty to draw the stem out from the surplus molten metal at the base of the bowl. If, previously, a series of air-bubbles was introduced into this mass, each in the process of drawing out became elongated into a tube, and we have the possibility, by planting “tears” in effective positions, and then

Fig. 42.

The figures given above illustrate certain of the characteristic features of Old English glasses. Thus Fig. 1 is an example of a double-knopped stem, each of the bulges being technically known as a “knop.” The foot is “domed.” No. 2 is an illustration of a shoulder and collar, the shoulder being the bulge near the top, and the collar the ring above it, which was originally devised to hide any clumsiness in joining the stem to the bowl. No. 3 is a “flanged” bowl, No. 4 a “waisted” bowl, and No. 5 shows an air-twisted stem.

judiciously twisting the drawn stem whilst still plastic, of producing an infinity of pleasing patterns. Thus a number of small “tears” close together produced a spiral like a yarn of silk; or a central tear might be blown, and side ones twisted round in encircling spirals.

Baluster-stemmed Glasses.—The baluster stem is a reproduction of a moulded pillar. It is by no means peculiar to eighteenth-century glasses. Indeed it formed the almost invariable means of support for the glasses of Caroline times. The early baluster stems are, to an eye accustomed to the lighter modern glass, extremely heavy and clumsy in appearance, and with the development of taste and skill, they were speedily supplanted by the slenderer and more graceful drawn and air-twisted stems. But the effect of the baluster moulding was soon pressed into the service of this more dainty ware, the baluster becoming more slender and symmetrical, and sometimes, indeed, being modified into a slight swelling—either gradual or abrupt or a single ring round the stem. The bowls of this period were almost invariably funnel-shaped, and were often engraved—the appropriate figure of the vine leaf appearing for the first time in the

1. AIR-TWISTED STEM GLASS.
2. BUTTON STEM.
3. BALUSTER STEM WITH ROYAL MONOGRAM.

(From the Rees Price Collection, by permission of the Connoisseur.)
FIG. 8.

history of English glass. The feet are almost always of the folded variety. Occasionally, in the later specimens, however, the feet are domed.

Opaque-twisted Stems.—The opaque-twisted stem made its appearance about the middle of the century. In this case, rods of opaque white or coloured glass were alternated with rods of clear glass around the circumference of a circular mould, care being taken to preserve proper regularity.

They were then heated, and molten clear glass poured into the central hollow, filling up the interstices between the rods, binding the whole when cooled into a solid rod, with a clear centre surrounded by a particoloured circumference. The mass, being softened by heating, was then drawn out into slenderer rods, and twisted into spirals.

The ease of the process accounts for the infinite variety of patterns in existence. Flat bars could be used, giving tape-like spiral bands, and the rods could be of various sizes and colours. Many specimens came over from Holland and from the north of France, generally of inferior quality, the inferiority being displayed in the character of the stems and the poorness of the metal.

The simplicity of the manufacture has also given rise to hosts of modern imitations, largely from the Continent. In a great number of these the spirals turn to the left, which has given rise to an idea that all glasses with right-handed opaque spiral stems are modern imitations, which is by no means the case. All such specimens, however, are sufficiently suspect to demand careful scrutiny, and the amateur, before purchasing a right-handed spiral opaque-twisted glass, will do well to submit it to the judgment of an expert.

Points to be considered are the colour of the metal, the perfection of the twist, its opacity, and the character of the foot. The colour and weight of the glass are probably the best criteria. The forgeries are generally light, and the beautiful mellow tone of the real old English glass is replaced by a cold white tint or even a tinge of green. The twist is often more translucent than in the genuine pieces, and is frequently imperfectly produced, becoming looser as it descends, the loosening being particularly pronounced just before its junction with the foot.

The appearance of the foot is of the utmost

FIG. 9.—OPAQUE TWIST STEMS AND “ROSE” GLASSES.

(From the Rees Price Collection, by permission of the Connoisseur.)

value. Before the nineteenth century the scar, where the piece after manufacture was broken away from the pontil, was invariably left rough, instead of being ground down. The foot in the genuine glasses is never flat, there being always a slight slope downwards towards the edge. In the imitations, too, it is apt to be less in diameter, compared with the bowl, than in the genuine specimens, whilst there is frequently an absence of “ring.” This last fact, however, must not be unduly emphasised, since many undoubtedly authentic specimens of this period, including some of the finest, share the defect. Another test is to note the edge of the bowl, whether it is well rounded off or whether it has been left hard and sharp.

Many of these glasses are engraved with flowers. The rose is so frequent as to give its name to a special type, the “rose glasses.” The rose has often a bud or two, and a butterfly is frequently represented as hovering over the flower. In later specimens the butterfly degenerates into a moth, and finally vanishes altogether. Other flowers engraved on glasses of the same type and period were the Rose of Sharon and the St John’s Wort. Rose glasses, with blue and white twisted stems, are in all probability almost exclusively of English manufacture, and are among the most valuable of the opaque-twisted type. The foreign importations of the period were numerous but, apart from certain patterns of twist, which may be considered exclusively English, the twisting of the Low Countries was distinctly inferior. One type is characteristic of the foreign product. This has a central tube of thin white lines, surrounded by spiral twists. Where the stem is of the baluster type, this central tube, more or less, follows the contour of the stem.

Straight-sided Glasses.—The term “straight-sided” may be used to designate a whole series of glasses, of which the bowls are of the shape of a truncated cone, the narrow end being, of course, downward. In process of time the sharpness of the section at the bottom was more and more rounded until it attained the shape of the ogee curve. The earliest of the straight-sided glasses had bulbed stems, with a shoulder and knop. The better sorts of tavern and household glasses were of this type, the larger specimens being used for wine and punch and the smaller for cordials and strong waters. Two points are worthy of notice: the folded foot was practically invariable, and the diameter of the foot was always substantially greater than that of the bowl, thus ensuring a sound support.

The bowls themselves were at first plain. About the middle of the century, however, we find them decorated with conventional flowers and vine leaves, etc., which were gradually replaced by closer and more artistic representations of such natural objects as roses, as a matter of course, lilies of the valley, tulips, and sprays of honeysuckle. Amongst these, however, certain conventional designs held their place, e.g. wild roses, St John’s Wort, and other blossoms with large seeded centres, which seem to have impressed themselves strongly upon the imagination of the artists to whom the decoration was entrusted. The bowls were, in very rare instances, fluted.

The pieces were made in three parts—bowl, stem, and foot—the stem being sometimes plain, oftener air-twisted, and sometimes opaque-twisted. The straight-sided bowl was never popular amongst Continental glass-workers, so that the probability is that any specimen found is of English manufacture. In examples of foreign manufacture, too, the bowl was generally rounded at the base, and the stems were often coloured or opaque-twisted. Other characteristics by which these may be identified are their comparative lightness of weight, their fragility, their coarse lavishness of decoration, their narrow bases, while the twisting of the stems is often unduly close, and the bowls have wide, flat flutes.

Ogee Glasses.—The straight-sided glasses changed by easy degrees into the well-known ogee shape, the lines of the bowl being gradually merged into those of the stem. It may be safely asserted that the majority of ogee-shaped glasses are of English manufacture. The majority have opaque-twisted stems; sometimes blue lines replace the opaque white. It is thought that Bristol was the chief place of manufacture, since most of the finds have been in the west of England. The earliest of them have unfolded feet, inserted air-twisted stems, and naturally, since the object of the designer was to preserve the ogee line, no shoulders. Many of them are of considerable dimensions—a possible result of the custom of drinking bumpers. A great number of the memorial glasses, treated of in a separate chapter, were of this type. The

FIG. 10.—DOUBLE OGEE BOWLS.

(From the Rees Price Collection, by permission of the Connoisseur.)

scheme of decoration followed much the same lines as that of the straight-sided glasses, but a greater proportion were plain; possibly the curves toward the bottom of the bowl made the engraver’s task more difficult. In the later specimens, sprigs of laurel and festoons of various conventional types are to be found. In the Bristol glasses the bowls were sometimes fluted, and a double ogee curve was employed, the upper part only being decorated, generally with vine leaves and bunches of grapes. The stems were bulbed or knopped, and the feet were folded.

Champagne Glasses.—There is, of course, no real reason why one kind of wine should be drunk from a glass of special shape and another from a totally different one, but once glass drinking vessels had become the vogue, this habit of specialising in the shape and size of glasses speedily became the fashion and crystallised into a custom which persists even to-day in our port, sherry, champagne, claret, and liqueur glasses. In the beginning there was a far greater diversity, for England in the eighteenth century was famous for the number (and potency) of its beverages and, speaking generally, each had its appropriate glass. Frequently, of course, there was little diversity of shape, the difference being in the nature of the ornamentation, which in a number of cases was specially devised to indicate the purpose of the glass. Thus an ale glass would be adorned with ears of barley or bunches of hops; a wine glass with vine leaves or bunches of grapes; a cider glass with sprays of apple blossom, and so forth.

Champagne was, in the eighteenth century, a wine of comparatively recent introduction, and was drunk only by the rich and great. Probably at first no special glasses were used for it, the more elegant of those already in existence, presumably bell-shaped and air-stemmed, being pressed into the service, but about 1730 special glasses were made, with wide, shallow bowls, of the double-ogee variety and a baluster. They had knopped or double-knopped stems and domed feet. Sometimes, as might be anticipated, an air or opaque-twisted stem was employed, while the shape of the bowl varied towards the bell shape, in that it became hemispherical.

Subsequently the bowl became elongated into

FIG. 11.—SWEETMEAT GLASSES. ALE GLASSES.

(From the Rees Price Collection, by permission of the Connoisseur.)

a narrow cone, the stems exemplifying the various patterns of the day—baluster, knopped, double-knopped, air-twisted, opaque-twisted, and drawn. In the later examples the elongation was so pronounced that the glasses approximated to the familiar flute shape. In these the stem is often faceted, the facets sometimes extending some considerable distance up the glass. The modern champagne glass, with a wide saucer-like bowl and a hollow stem, seems to be a sort of combination of the two. The wine being a rarity, the glasses are scarce, and the collector who unearths a genuine specimen of an early eighteenth-century champagne glass may esteem himself fortunate.

The shallow glasses were so little known that a hundred years later, in 1832, Disraeli, writing to his sister, remarks: “We drank champagne out of a saucer of glass mounted on a pedestal of cut glass,” so that the form was evidently a novelty, at least to him.

Sweetmeat Glasses.—Closely allied to the shallow champagne glasses were the sweetmeat glasses. The latter are, however, much solider, while their edges are crinkled and undulated and vandyked into various patterns. The feet are generally domed, sometimes plain, and at other times ribbed or ornamented with knobs. The bowls are generally either of the double-ogee type or bell-shaped with a lip. They are often ribbed in the earlier varieties, and cut in the later ones. The glasses were made in sets, which stood upon a glass pedestal or centre-piece made to a similar pattern. This had a flat, tray-like top, with a raised rim. One interesting feature is that each set consisted of a number of small glasses and one large one, known as a “Captain” or “Master” glass, which was not necessarily of the same pattern as the smaller ones. The Captain had generally an abnormally small foot, so that it might not unduly encroach upon the standing space.

Ale and Beer Glasses.—There is no particular difference between the tall champagne glass and the ale glass; possibly the ale glass was modelled upon the flute-shaped champagne glass, or possibly the shapes were used indiscriminately for both beverages—the finer and more elegant specimens for the champagne, and the heavier and more substantial ones for the humbler ale. That they were so used is sufficiently indicated by the fact that many

SPECIMEN OF IRISH DRINKING GLASSES, SHEWING VARIETY IN CUTTINGS. 18th-19th CENTURY.

ENGLISH DRINKING GLASSES. 18th CENTURY.

1. A CORDIAL GLASS WITH AIR-TWISTED STEM.
2. A BARLEY WATER GLASS WITH OPAL-TWISTED STEM.
3. AN OLD “TEAR” GLASS.
4. A STRONG WATER CORDIAL GLASS WITH “TEAR” IN STEM.

FIG. 12.

specimens have been discovered which are engraved with festoons or bunches of hops and ears of barley. The earlier specimens, however, were plain. It may be useful to point out that the form of the stem affords some indication of the relative age of the piece, the chronological order being roughly as follows:—(1) Waisted bowls, with plain stems and folded feet; (2) air-twisted stems, shouldered, collared, and knopped; (3) plain drawn stems; (4) opaque-twisted stems. The glasses diminish in height as the century progresses.

Other Kinds of Glasses.—It is customary to include in the classification of eighteenth-century glasses those used for cider and perry, mumm, mead, and syllabub. It is difficult to prove that any particular kind of glass was set apart for the consumption of these liquors. Cider, however, was produced in large quantities, and glasses were possibly made specially for it. Certain specimens exist, and are recognised by their being engraved with apple blossom, apple trees, etc., whilst one—mentioned in the chapter on Memorial Glasses—is inscribed with the motto “No Excise.” Speaking generally, it may be asserted that ordinary cider was probably drunk from earthenware mugs, after the fashion of the beer mugs of to-day, whilst the strong cider was consumed from wine glasses. No glass has so far been distinctively associated with perry.

Mumm was a somewhat awesome decoction, in which the principal ingredient was malted wheat, to which were added a little oats or bean-meal, the brew being flavoured with various pungent and aromatic herbs and the inner bark and tips of the fir tree. It is presumed to have been drunk from glasses of the ale-champagne type, but among the common folk it is probable mugs were preferred.

“The clamorous crowd is hush’d with mugs of mum
Till all, tun’d equal, send a general hum.”—Pope.

Mead (or meath) was a drink the basis of which was honey. This, being dissolved in boiling water, was flavoured with spices and ground malt added, and the whole left to ferment. It was drunk from bowl-shaped glasses, or else from glasses of the low tumbler type. If carefully made it would keep for a long time, and from the number of references to it which appear in literature, it was evidently a favourite drink, particularly among the lower classes. Ben Jonson in his “The Devil is an Ass,” written in 1616, remarks:

“ ...Carmen
Are got into their yellow starch, and chimney-sweepers
To their tobacco and strong waters—Hum,
Meath and Obarni.”

Syllabub was a mixture of wine, ale, or cider, with cream or milk, and flavoured with lemon or rose-water. The whipped syllabubs were beaten into a froth before drinking. They were often made with milk drawn fresh from the cow, the drinkers repairing to the dairy for the purpose.

“Your ale-berries, caudles and possets each one,
And sillabubs made at the milking pail,
Although they be many, beer comes not in any,
But all are composed with a pot of good ale.”

Syllabub glasses, as far as there were special glasses used, were of deep cup or tumbler shape, the brim flaring outward.

Cordial and Strong Waters Glasses.—The art of distillation came from Arabia, as the name alcohol (al Kohl) indicates. Northern peoples, however, for a long time preferred, to the distilled products, cordial waters made from honey, fruit syrups, spices, and various herbs. Each notable housewife had her own recipes for cordials, and many and quaint were the products that came from the family still-room. It was not, indeed, until comparatively recent times that the habit of spirit-drinking made any great headway in England. Whisky was made in Ireland in the fourteenth century, and must consequently have been known in England. Howell in his “Letters” refers to the usquebaugh of Ireland, but remarks that “whereas in England they drink it in aqua vitæ glasses, in Ireland they drink it in beer glasses.” The quotation proves that even at that early period special glasses for spirits were in use. Greene, some thirty years later, includes among the glasses he ordered from Venice small glasses marked for brandj.

The taste was probably intensified after the Revolution of 1688 brought numbers of Dutchmen into the country. The glasses employed were, generally speaking, miniature replicas of the wine glasses in vogue; others are short-stemmed, and as this did not lend itself to air-twisting, the baluster type was mostly affected, which in such small glasses gives a peculiarly massive appearance. Opaque-twisted stems are, however, more frequently met with, as are fluted ones. Sometimes the bowls are fluted or faceted. The dumpy, thick-stemmed, wide-bowled cordial glasses are often termed “Hogarth” glasses, they being the prevailing type in his pictures.

The modern equivalents are the “firing” glasses used at Masonic banquets, the members after each toast knocking the glasses in unison on the table—the sound produced being fancifully likened to the reports of guns. Figs. 1 and 2 (p. 160) are illustrations of firing glasses, the former being antique and the latter modern and strictly utilitarian.

Not all cordial and strong waters glasses belong to this type. Some of the most valuable have long stems, either plain or opaque-twisted. Many of the latter, however, came from the Netherlands and stand outside the category of English glasses.

The “thistle” glass has come to be the recognised Scottish liqueur glass. The form originated, it is believed, in Bohemia, but once it had made its way here, it was natural that the Scots should take for their national liquor the glass that bore the form of their national emblem. At any rate the beginning of the Scottish glass industry was marked by the production of a thistle glass, which was made at the factories in Edinburgh.

Tavern and Household Glasses.—It is customary to refer to tavern and household glass as belonging to a separate classification. There is really no justification for any such division; it is perfectly natural that utensils for common use should be stronger and clumsier editions of the better-class glasses. The very earliest were clumsy in the extreme as regards design, and rough in execution, but later specimens show greater elaboration and skill.

With the advent of the drawn glass, most tavern and household glasses took this form, and have retained it with little variation. Two kinds are noticeable—those with a “blow” inside the stem, and those without. In the drawn stems the blow shrank in dimensions, and became a tear, which, by the way, is almost invariably upside down, the broader end being uppermost. Half-way through the eighteenth century the tear vanished altogether, and the plain solid stem came into use. The common wine glasses were small editions of the larger glasses, and frequently bore rudely executed decorations of festoons, vine leaves, and flowers. The feet are flat, and may be either folded or unfolded, the former being of the earlier type. Specimens are fairly easily obtainable, the thickness of the metal and the stoutness of the design carrying them safely through the dangers to which they were specially liable. Apart from their age they have no special merit. The metal is as inferior as the form.

Tumblers were less frequently made in the eighteenth century than were wine glasses, and in the early part, at any rate, those that were met with were chiefly foreign importations. It is possible that the plain lines of the tumbler did not appeal to tastes accustomed to the graceful outlines of the wine glasses. The early ones are cylinder-shaped, and very large, while eighteenth-century tumblers taper somewhat toward the base. Both are very scarce. Now and again one meets the barrel shape. Foreign tumblers are often profusely decorated by engraving, colouring, and gilding—the quality of the decoration being distinctly inferior to its quantity.

The rummer is a characteristic Old English public-house glass, and is of various types. It was, of course, as the name implies, used for making punch. Among the types are the ogee-shaped bowls—either plain or pressed—barrel-shaped bowls, and trumpet-shaped bowls. All have short, thick stems, often with a collar, sometimes baluster-shaped. The base is strong and generally flat. Some specimens have heavy, square bases, evidently designed to secure their stability.

Cut Glass.—The introduction of the so-called flint glass—which was, in effect, glass containing a greater quantity of lead than had previously been used—created something of a revolution in the art of English glass manufacture. M. Peligot, a leading French authority, remarks: “To the English should really be attributed the honour of having created, in their flint glass, a new product which by the quality and selection of the materials used in its fabrication has become without doubt the most beautiful glassy substance which we know and which, in my opinion, it may be possible to produce.” But in addition to the beauty of the metal was the fact that it had a greater refractive and dispersive action on

ENGLISH “RUMMER” AND DRINKING GLASSES. 18th CENTURY.

A BALLUSTER STEM GLASS SHEWING A COIN BLOWN IN THE STEM.

EARLY ENGLISH BALLUSTER STEM GLASS.

FIG. 13.

rays of light than any other kind of glass, and consequently lent itself specially to cutting—the workmanship bringing out the beauty and brilliancy of the metal, and the quality of the metal enhancing the effect of the cutting.

It is difficult to fix, with any degree of precision, the date at which glass was first cut by way of ornamentation. There are certainly traces of its employment towards the end of the seventeenth century. At the beginning the craftsmen of Bohemia were probably far superior to those of England, but as soon as the special suitability of the English glass was demonstrated, the native workmen speedily outdid all foreign competitors. The quality of the glass and of the cutting gradually improved, until at the close of the eighteenth century practically all English glass of any importance was ornamented in this fashion, and the English product was famous all over the Continent.

In this way the beauty and value of a piece speedily came to depend upon the amount and the depth of the cutting: the more deeply and profusely it was incised the greater its artistic merit was assumed to be and the more highly it was esteemed. In certain instances, undoubtedly, the art was carried to excess; hence those monstrosities of the Early Victorian period—clumsy masses of flint glass cut into hob-nails, facets, pyramids, and spikes of all shapes and dimensions. Of this description are the massive glass chandeliers which depend from the ceilings of country houses and halls built at the close of the eighteenth or the commencement of the nineteenth century. Possibly no better examples could be found than the massy centrepieces with their pendent drops and spiked clusters that adorn the Pavilion at Brighton—that lordly and pseudo-Oriental pleasure-house built by the “first gentleman in Europe,” who afterwards became George IV. Of similar type are the lustres with their jingling drops that ornamented so many mantelpieces in our grandmothers’ and great-grandmothers’ day.

How often in a theatre has one sat in fear and trembling lest some such great glittering mass in the centre of the dome should break loose from its moorings and fall with dire effects on the pit and stalls below?

It was under the same conditions that bottles altered their shape and became decanters. These, as will be seen from the illustrations, followed the prevailing fashion in being massive and deeply cut. The stoppers were most frequently of a mushroom shape and were often delicately cut. These decanters were generally made in pairs or in sets of four.

From what has been said it will be evident that the glass-making activities of the eighteenth century were by no means confined to the manufacture of drinking glasses. There is no reason to doubt that, even at so early a period as that in which Chiddingfold was a great centre of glass manufacture in this country, many important and really fine pieces were produced. Few examples, however, of what may be termed miscellaneous eighteenth-century glass can be attributed with any certainty to a period earlier than the sixties of that century. At that time the glass-maker’s art was passing through a great period of upheaval and momentous change like the country itself was in both politics and in art. Nor was the change confined to England. In France the florid style of decoration associated with the name of Louis Quinze was giving way, even before the death of the monarch after whom it was named, to the more simple and severely classical style of Louis Seize. In England the dawning of a new taste in artistic decoration became evident about the year 1770 in the work of the silversmiths and goldsmiths, and shortly afterwards in the productions of the porcelain factories of Bow, Chelsea, and elsewhere. In glass a noticeable feature of the change was the increasing use of faceting. Flat facets, divided by sharp angles, are to be found on both stems and shoulders of the glasses, and oftentimes extended half-way up the body itself. Dishes and basins of this period were often completely covered with pyramidal designs so deeply incised that the ware could hardly be handled without danger of breaking.

It was about this time, too, that cutting was first done by machinery in the manner already described in Chapter I. The fact that the art of cutting and engraving reached its zenith at this period accounts for the reputation which English glass speedily achieved not only in its native home but on the Continent and in the New World.

There is no doubt that much of its popularity was due to the superiority of the material itself, and this was maintained by the most scrupulous care in the selection and purification of the ingredients. The sand, in particular, was most carefully washed and burned so as to destroy all impurities. In practice, most of it was obtained from Alum Bay in the Isle of Wight, from Lynn or from Reigate. Sandpits have also been discovered at Coulsdon and Redhill. The fusing of the ingredients was also a matter demanding the greatest care so as to ensure the correct colour. It was found that, generally speaking, the quicker the operation the better the result. Any delay, too, in the blowing or rolling of the glass was apt to interfere with the purity of the colour and even the precision of shape and the accuracy of the measure.

Few persons troubled to consider whether shapes that depended upon the process of blowing were the most suitable for their purpose, or whether the cutting and engraving were not sometimes overdone.

On the whole, it is difficult to overrate the beauty of Georgian glass—of the early or the late period—either as regards grace of shape or style or the cutting and engraving.

Collectors, too, have plenty of scope, for though Georgian glass is comparatively rare and fine pieces command big prices, yet the amateur is not faced at the outset, as in the case of glass of a period prior to this, with two very serious propositions—an almost prohibitive price and a more or less doubtful authenticity.

The illustrations shown of eighteenth-century glass will make it clear that, although they are some of the most satisfactory specimens of the time, not even an amateur could mistake them for modern, their shapes alone being almost a guarantee of the date of their origin. Even if the shape be imitated, the peculiar dark, pearly look of the old flint glass cannot, and it forms a simple and definite test.

The pair of decanters on the right ([Fig. 14]) are almost unique—the deep cutting, the curiously shaped stoppers, the long or rounded necks, and the flat-cut shoulders being absolutely characteristic. But it is not unusual to find these graceful shapes copied; and again the collector must beware. Some of the quart decanters have, as will be seen from the two on the left of the illustration, hollow bottoms in which are inserted tiny musical boxes. When the decanter was raised the box started playing some familiar air, generally “Home, Sweet Home.” Whether the intention was to remind

18th CENTURY CUT SWEETMEAT GLASSES IN OLD SHEFFIELD PLATED STANDS.

18th CENTURY DECANTERS, SHEWING VARIETY OF DESIGNS IN CUTTING.

FIG. 14.

the holder that he was at home, or to hint that he might think of going there, probably depended upon circumstances.

Other sets of decanters with engraved festoons and similar decorations of the same period are equally graceful both in design and execution. The stoppers are flat pear-shaped drops, and are doubtless of the Adam period. Another feature is their long, thin necks, which made them more suitable for private houses than inns. They usually stand from 12 to 18 inches in height, and when standing grouped together have a charmingly graceful appearance. They are rarely now to be found in fours, and it is doubtful if they were so made. I have only seen them in pairs. They are not particularly rare, many small houses possessing specimens.

It was at this period also that finger bowls came into fashion. The first ones made in this country were probably copies of old Roman coloured bowls. The earliest of all had two lips, used either for pouring out the contents or for resting a spoon upon. These specimens are, as a rule, exquisite both in style and shape, and it is, fortunately, within the power of the ordinary collector to acquire a specimen or so at a reasonable figure. They are the larger and more ornamental pieces, some unique in design and others possessing historical associations, that are priceless. The old chandeliers often found will give some idea of the fine cutting of the period. The magnificent pear-drop-shaped lustres, the fine work on the stem, and the cross-over chains are characteristic of the lavish ornament of the age. Such have often been converted into pendants for electric light. Although no ordinary collector may hope to acquire them, they are not without interest as examples of a bygone fashion.

Through the kindness of Miss Whitmore Jones, I am enabled to reproduce from her beautiful collection at Chastleton House the posset pot shown at page 42 ([Fig. 2]). It is surrounded by a band of masks and roses and surmounted by a crown. It is an excellent example of the work of its period and one of the most admirable and beautiful specimens in existence.

Fig. 15 is an interesting illustration of the candlesticks and tapersticks formerly so widely used.

Tapersticks were used to hold the tapers used

FIG. 15—CANDLE AND TAPER STICKS.

(From the Rees Price Collection, by permission of the Connoisseur.)

in sealing letters. That on the left is nearly perfect in style and ornamentation. Tapersticks are, of course, frequently found in Georgian silver and also in china, generally with the ink tray, snuffers, and powder box to hold the sand used in drying the writing. The glass tapersticks were generally about 7 or 8 in. in height and had domed feet.