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Diptych, 8th century. Elephant ivory, 34.3 × 10.7 cm. From the Beauvais Cathedral treasure. Musée de Cluny, Paris.

In discussing furniture, we must begin by defining the value of the word according to the various periods to which it is applied. In its literal and general meaning, furniture represents everything that is moveable, transportable, and easy to put away.

In the early ages of our history, man was, to a certain extent, nomadic. If the necessity of defence caused castles and fortresses to be erected, fitted for repelling a hostile incursion, and for protecting the humble dwellings which gathered around them, lords and vassals, rich and poor, providing against a victorious invasion, or the necessity of going to fight in distant parts for their country’s cause, held themselves prepared to pack up, in chests kept ready for the purpose, all of their possessions. These chests are, therefore, the first and most ancient furniture.

By degrees, as public security increased, and society, growing more condensed, found support in its legal organisation, ease began to develop. Along with this came luxury, the innate want of intelligent races who require the satisfaction of the eye in proportion to the enlightenment of the mind. Strictly speaking, therefore, it was not until after the strife of the Middle Ages that furniture, such as we understand it today, could have existed. That is, an assemblage of objects placed in the principal divisions of the habitation to satisfy various requirements, and at the same time present an agreeable, elegant and even splendid appearance.

It is difficult, therefore, in the present day to compose a truly historical set of furniture, even by seeking its elements in the periods closest to us. Customs, habits, needs, and wants have changed; ancient pieces have been destroyed in mass quantities, and even when they are discovered, these pieces offer an incomplete match in regard to comfort as a modern invention but an absolute necessity in every luxurious dwelling.

Some people have, it is true, conceived the idea of transforming old furniture so as to adapt it to present exigencies; this is a barbaric concept, against which all sensible men will protest. Let us respect the waifs of the past, and beware of touching them with sacrilegious hands. It is only thus that valuable relics can retain their prestige, and add lustre to the galleries of their fortunate possessors.

Nor do we accept the compromise adopted by some, which consists in completing a furniture characteristic of a particular period with modern imitations. Few people would be deceived by it, and a false specimen introduced into a collection confuses visitors, and makes them doubt the authenticity of the entire collection.

Let us now glance rapidly at the periods whence a connoisseur may seek, with some chance of success, various parts of a choice set of furniture.

In the 14th century, Charles V and Jeanne of Bourbon had collected at the Louvre and in their chateaux countless marvels, of which a detailed inventory has preserved us a description of the contents. It was absolutely necessary that the flats should be suitable in order to contain these treasures. Indeed, contemporary writings prove the admiration impressed upon and shared with their guests by Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV and his son Wenceslas, King of the Romans, when they came to Paris in 1378. They even felt great pleasure, writers say, in receiving magnificent jewels from the king, “such as they are known to do in Paris.”

The 15th century offered nothing to add to this luxury. At most one could ask for items with which to furnish an oratory or study, that is to say chairs, benches, desks, kneelers, bookshelves and cabinets, etc.

In the 16th century, furniture that may be applied to our current uses becomes more common. The necessity of easy transport still exists and everything must be made with the option of disassembly; beds have their columns and other parts jointed, tables are on trestles or made to fold down on their axis, cabinets are numerous and varied in materials and dimensions so that being filled with valuables they may be easily stored in the chests or trunks, chairs have hooks, fastenings or can be folded. In a word, the camp furniture is ready to be packed together with the ornamental cushions, carpets and moveable hangings that they attached wherever the dwelling-place of the moment was located.

At the end of the century, furniture becomes still more abundant, and already the more cumbrous pieces cease to travel; at the moment of leaving the chateau such pieces are consigned to the garrets or the wardrobe rooms, where they remain until the day of return. At this period, a taste for the sights becomes more common; distant voyages procure objects from India, caskets painted in the Turkish fashion, oriental carpets and porcelain from China, which was easily obtainable in Cairo. It is easy to realise in the present day what kind of riches a palace of 1589 might contain; l’Inventaire des meubles de Catherine de Médici, published by Edmond Bonnaffé, is, in this respect, as descriptive as possible.

Castle of Écouen, aerial view.

Notre Dame de Paris, sculpture room. Musée de Cluny, Paris.

To return to less exceptional things, let us go back to the Musée de Cluny, where the decorations from the Château de Villepreux, belonging to Pierre de Gondy, bishop of Paris, will show the luxury of the 16th century in a simpler form, and allow us to observe a bed more appropriat for contemporary use. We must also point out this important peculiarity, that the inventory of Catherine de Médici shows a very extensive collection of ebony cabinets inlaid with ivory which are of German fashion, that is, marquetry of various woods. However, it does not have pieces of wood-carved furniture which must have still been in use, as may be proved by those bearing the monogram of Henry II and the double crescent to be found in museums and among collections. It is an indication of the possible mingling of these three kinds of furniture making one whole set.

We still keep to the genuine 16th century so long as we do not see the rather cumbrous pieces of the time of Henry IV which lead directly to the style of Louis XIII. The furniture of this period of transition, which is occasionally sombre from the abuse of ebony, has already a degree of pomp announcing the century of Louis XIV. When we say furniture, we do not mean pieces of outward show, more luxurious than useful; this is one of the characteristics of the period of the great king. A more complete picture more clearly proving the absence of useful furniture could not be desired. In order to find such, in an intimate and charming form, we must pass to the reign of Louis XV, the king who deserted the state apartments to take refuge in places with secret doors and back staircases.

But here, if the “grandiose” style has disappeared, that of exaggerated caprice takes its place. Everything is distorted, broken and complicated, exuberant, elaborately ornamented details appear in everything; simplicity is unknown. It is the period above all others which is the most difficult for the man of taste. Ugliness jostled with what is mere extravagance of style or elegance, while, by a judicious choice, the exaggerations which are the evident work of artists of inferior merit who can only be impressed with ideas from their extreme points of view discarded. Here begins the remarkable era of metal carving with bronze being applied to cabinet work, torches, chandeliers and lamps, which are often of admirable workmanship and talented design.

We will say little about the period of Louis XVI; public taste leads most in that direction, and it is very well known. The charming simplicity of its style is an intelligent protest against the rocaille and loose furniture preceding it. We find in it all that our present desires demand, united to even the most delicate designs. The only dangers that connoisseurs may encounter are scarcity, high prices and the fear of forgeries.

It may be seen by this rapid sketch what difficulties exist in the reformation of a historical set of furniture and what care and tact must be used in order to avoid anachronisms. From the earliest ages, the love for rare and interesting things introduced an eclectic variety into private homes, which well characterised the taste of the collector. The Romans liked to surround themselves with the valuable objects afforded to them through conquest or distant commerce; the Middle Ages had the same tendency, and the search for exotic treasures continued and increased over time. In France, the crusades were a first revelation; the wars in Italy completed the work and gave rise to the Renaissance.

Alessandro Vittoria, Jupiter Holding his Thunderbolt, c. 1580. Bronze, 72 cm. Castle of Écouen, Musée national de la Renaissance.

Oriental works, rich carpets and antiques therefore have a right to take their place amongst ancient furniture, in order to heighten its charm; this is evident from the preceding descriptions. In the 17th century, India and China mingle their products with those of France’s national industry. Under Louis XV, porcelain begins to intrude everywhere; it is time for its development in French manufactories, which is made possible due to the discovery in Saxony of a hard paste similar to that of the Chinese. Now, not only the table is composed of porcelain, but chimney pieces, furniture details, console tables, vases, and candlesticks of novel invention, which does not, however, cause oriental works to be proscribed. These novelties lose part of their popularity under Louis XVI and French porcelain tends to take their place, with its delicate paintings, and soft, varied colouring. Sèvres porcelain harmonised wonderfully with the rosewood veneering, and chasings rivalling jewellery, with matte bronzes and the fine goldsmith works emulating antique styles. Art, then, or to say more, science, consists of knowing how to choose these different elements, and combine them so that taste may be satisfied without injury to historical accuracy; the impression is then complete, and the visitor can imagine himself living during some other period.

There is no doubt that attaining this is difficult. Not only great sacrifices have been made, but a combination of fortunate circumstances has enabled some connoisseurs to complete a salon, a bed-chamber, a boudoir, with things not only antique, but of a particular epoch. Thus everyone can remember the Louis XIV salon of Leopold Double, as well as Rosalie Duthé’s charming boudoir, in which the ceiling and painted panelling are accompanied by all the accessories of the same origin, patiently collected, purchased under the excitement of public auctions, or snatched from the hammer of demolitions. The sumptuous apartments of the Rothschild family are also much admired where every moment one expects to see the sympathetic forms of Marie Antoinette and Madame de Lamballe, who are most often recalled to one’s recollection.

These difficulties need not discourage those who desire to borrow objects from the past to surround themselves with. If, from the severity of its demands, history should escape them, they can make use of a compromise, which taste allows, by composing a purely eclectic set of furniture.

Let us here explain: among the connoisseurs of less contemporary times, there were some who, like their ancestors of the Renaissance and the following centuries, openly assumed the title of collector and their possession of an antique cabinet was well-known. In those days, as we know, the cabinet, which was an appendage and ornament to a habitation, contained, besides jewellery and other articles of personal ornament, silver coins, bronzes, weapons, marbles, medals, crystals, stones, pictures, in short, all that constitutes a collection. In the present day, however, many who collect relics of the past refuse, from modesty, to avow that they possess a cabinet. Are they less rich in rarities than the old connoisseurs? Not so; but what they acquire is not grouped in a single gallery, in the cabinet; it is scattered about everywhere, surrounding them wherever they may be, and their enjoyment of it is increased because at every moment they have within reach one of the thousand objects they love. This, therefore, is precisely what constitutes a set of eclectic furniture.

Can it be concluded from this that it is sufficient to possess valuable things and bring them together by chance in order to come within the rules of eclecticism? A rich interior should not resemble the well-furnished shop of a dealer, as ill-assorted objects are always disagreeable. Works bearing the special date of their style possess obvious harmony; the credenzas[1] of the Middle Ages and the sideboards with their delicate Gothic tracery would be out of place, if placed side by side with tormented brass chests, glaring with twisted and intrusive brasswork. Solid French earthenware would look coarse placed in contact with the furniture of Louis XVI and Sèvres porcelain would appear insipid on a crystal cabinet of the 17th century.

It will be asked, then, where is a rule to be found? We repeat, in taste. Let us declare to the credit of our artists that it is principally to them that we may go for advice on the scientific assemblage of these various objects. The choice of form, the true keynote in the assortment of colours, the supreme elegance of the whole put together as one all denote the experience gained in their daily studies and historical knowledge, bringing all the power of this particular talent to light.

Examples of these particular talents include highlighting a tapestry from Arras or Flanders or displaying a lacquered cabinet of Indian piqué or of ebony inlaid with ivory in their best light. Including additionally, finding a suitable place for arms, porcelain and bronzes, exhibiting a terracotta work by Clodion, an ivory piece by François Duquesnoy, or the goldsmith work of Baslin. Furthermore, suspending in their right places a Persian embroidery, an Indian brocade, and a Japanese rouleau could never be the work of a newcomer. The anachronisms between two ill-assorted pieces may be as offensive to the eye as the mismatched parts of a complete set of furniture. The finest pieces of armour will assume the look of old iron depending on the background which serves to set them off. The true secret lies in finding transition pieces.

Jean-François Oeben and Jean-Henri Riesener, Roll-top secrétaire for Louis XV’s inner study in Versailles, 1760–1769. Bronze, marquetry of a variety of fine woods, Sèvres porcelain, 147.3 × 192.5 × 105 cm. Palace of Versailles.