TABLE OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

THE ARTS IN THE MIDDLE AGES,
AND AT THE PERIOD OF
THE RENAISSANCE.

FURNITURE:

ORDINARY HOUSEHOLD, AND APPERTAINING TO ECCLESIASTICAL PURPOSES.

E shall be readily believed when we assert that the furniture used by our remote ancestors, the Gauls, was of the most rude simplicity. A people essentially addicted to war and hunting,—at the best, agriculturists,—having for their temples the forests, for their dwellings huts formed out of turf and thatched with straw and branches, would naturally be indifferent to the form and description of their furniture.

Then succeeded the Roman Conquest. Originally, and long subsequent to the formation of their warlike republic, the Romans had also lived in contempt of display, and even in ignorance of the conveniences of life. But when they had subjugated Gaul, and had carried their victorious arms to the confines of the world, they by degrees appropriated whatever the manners and habits of the conquered nations disclosed to them of refined luxury, material progress, and ingenious devices for comfort. Thus, the Romans brought with them into Gaul what they elsewhere had acquired. Again, when, in their turn, the semi-barbarous hordes of Germany and of the Northern steppes invaded the Roman empire, these new conquerors did not fail to accommodate themselves instinctively to the social condition of the vanquished.

This, briefly stated, is an explanation—we admit, rather concise—of the transition connecting the characteristics of the society of olden days with those of modern society.

Society in the Middle Ages—that social epoch which may be compared to the state of a decrepid and worn-out old man, who, after a long, dull torpor awakes to new life, like an active and vigorous child—society in the Middle Ages inherited much from preceding times, though, to a certain extent, they were disconnected. It transformed, perhaps; and it perfected, rather than invented; but it displayed in its works a genius so peculiar that we generally recognise in it a real creation.

Proposing rapidly to pursue our archæological and literary course through a twofold period of birth and revival, we cannot indulge the belief that we shall succeed in exhibiting our sketches in a light the best adapted to their effect. However, we will make the attempt, and, the frame being given, will do our best to fill in the picture.

If we visit any royal or princely abode of the Merovingian period, we observe that the display of wealth consists much less in the elegance or in the originality of the forms devised for articles of furniture, than in the profusion of precious materials employed in their fabrication and embellishment. The time had gone by when the earliest tribes of Gauls and of Northmen, who came to occupy the West, had for their seats and beds only trusses of straw, rush mats, and bundles of branches; and for their tables slabs of stone or piles of turf. From the fifth century of the Christian era, we already find the Franks and the Goths resting their muscular forms on the long soft seat which the Romans had adopted from the East, and which have become our sofas or our couches; changing only their names. In front of them were arranged low horse-shoe tables, at which the centre seat was reserved for the most dignified or illustrious of the guests. Couches at the table, suited only to the effeminacy induced by warm climates, were soon abandoned by the Gauls; benches and stools were adopted by these most active and vigorous men; meals were no longer eaten reclining, but sitting: while the thrones of kings, and the chairs of state for nobles, were of the richest sumptuousness. Thus, for instance, we find St. Eloi, the celebrated worker in metals, manufacturing and embellishing two state-chairs of gold for Clotaire, and a throne of gold for Dagobert. The chair ascribed to St. Eloi, and known as the Fauteuil de Dagobert (Fig. 1), is an antique consular chair, which originally was only a folding one; the Abbé Suger, in the twelfth century, added to it the back and arms. Artistic display was equally lavished on the manufacture of tables. Historians tell us that St. Remy, a contemporary of Clovis, had a silver table decorated all over with sacred subjects. The poet Fortunat, Bishop of Poitiers, describes a table of the same metal, which had a border representing a vine with bunches of grapes.

Coming to the reign of Charlemagne, we find, in a passage in the writings of Eginhard, his minister and historian, that, in addition to a golden table which this great monarch possessed, he had three others of chased silver; one decorated with designs representing the city of Rome, another Constantinople, and the third “all countries of the universe.”

The chairs or seats of the Romanesque period (Fig. 2) exhibit an attempt to revive in the interior of the buildings, where they were used, the architectural style of contemporary monuments. They were large and massive, and were raised on clusters of columns expanding at the back in three semicircular rows. The anonymous monk of Saint-Gall, in his chronicle written in the ninth century, alludes to a grand banquet, at which the host was seated on cushions of feathers. Legrand d’Aussy tells us, in his “Histoire de la Vie Privée des Français,” that at a later date—referring to the reign of Louis le Gros, in the beginning of the twelfth century—the guests were seated, at ordinary family repasts, on simple stools; but if the party was more of a ceremonious than intimate character, the table was surrounded with benches, or bancs, whence the term banquet is derived. The form of table was commonly long and straight, but on occasions of state it was semicircular, or like a horse-shoe in form, recalling the Romanesque round table of King Artus of Brittany (Fig. 3).

The Crusades, bringing together men of all the countries of Europe with the people of the East, made those of the West acquainted with luxuries and customs which, on returning from their chivalrous expeditions, they did not fail to imitate. We find feasts at which they ate sitting cross-legged on the ground, or stretched out on carpets in the Oriental fashion, as represented and described in miniatures contained in the manuscripts of that period. The Sire de Joinville, the friend and historian of Louis IX., informs us that this saintly king was in the habit of sitting on a carpet, surrounded by his barons, and in that manner he dispensed justice; but at the same time the practice of using large chaires, or arm-chairs, continued, for there still is to be seen a throne in massive wood belonging to that period, and called le banc de Monseigneur St. Louis, embellished with carvings representing fanciful and legendary birds and animals. It is unnecessary to add that the lower orders did not aspire to so much refinement. In their abodes the seats in use were settles, chests, or at best benches, the supports of which were, to a slight extent, carved.

This was the period when the practice commenced of covering seats with woollen stuffs, or with silk figured on frames, or embroidered by hand, displaying ciphers, emblems, or armorial bearings. From the East was introduced the custom of hangings for rooms, composed of glazed leather, stamped and gilt. These skins of the goat or sheep were called or basané, because plain gilt; or embossed leather, in gold colour, was made from them. Or basané was also used to conceal the bare look of arm-chairs. Towards the fourteenth century, tables of precious metals disappeared, in consequence of fashion ruling in favour of the stuffs which covered them; tapestry, tissues of gold, and velvets thenceforth formed the table-cloths. On great occasions, the place of the principal guests was distinguished by a canopy, more or less rich, erected above their seats, as represented in the account of the sumptuous feast given by King Charles V. to the Emperor Charles of Luxemburg, in the great hall of the palace. M. Fréguier thus describes the banquet from contemporary documents in the “Histoire de l’Administration de la Police de Paris:”—

“The dinner was served on a marble table. The Archbishop of Rheims, who had officiated that day, first took his place at table. The Emperor then sat down, then the King of France, and the King of Bohemia, the son of the Emperor. Above the seat of each of the three princes was a separate canopy of gold cloth, embroidered all over with fleurs-de-lis. These three canopies were surmounted by a larger one, also of cloth of gold, which covered the whole extent of the table, and was suspended behind the guests. After the King of Bohemia, three bishops took their place, but far removed from him, and near the end of the table. Under the nearest canopy the Dauphin was seated, at a separate table, with several princes or nobles of the Court of France, or of the Emperor. The hall was adorned with three buffets, or dressers, covered with gold and silver plate; these three dressers, as well as the two large canopies, were protected by a railing, to prevent the intrusion of the crowds of people who had been permitted to witness the magnificence of the display. Finally, there were to be seen five other canopies, under which were assembled princes and barons round private tables; also numerous other tables.”

It is noteworthy that from the time of St. Louis these same chairs and seats, carved, covered with the richest stuffs, inlaid with precious stones, and engraved with the armorial bearings of great houses, issued for the most part from the workshops of Parisian artisans. Those artisans, carpenters, manufacturers of coffers and carved chests, and furniture-makers, were so celebrated for works of this description, that in inventories and appraisements of furniture great care was taken to specify that such and such articles among them were of Parisian manufacture; ex operagio Parisiensi (Fig. 4).

The following extract, from an invoice of Etienne La Fontaine, the royal silversmith, affords, in terms which require no comment, an idea of the costliness lavished on the manufacture of an arm-chair, then called faudesteuil, intended for the King of France, in 1352:—

“For making a fauteuil of silver and of crystal decorated with precious stones, delivered to the said seigneur, of which the said seigneur ordered the said goldsmith to make the framework, who ornamented it with several crystals, illuminated pieces, many designs, pearls, and other stones.... VIIᶜ LXXIIIIᵐ (774 louis).

“For illuminated pieces placed under the crystals of the said fauteuil, of which there are 40 of the armorial bearings of France, 61 of the prophets holding scrolls, 112 half-length figures of animals on gold ground, and 4 large representations of the judgments of Solomon.... VIˣˣᵐ (620 louis).

“For twelve crystals for the said fauteuil, of which five are hollow to hold the bâtons, six flat, and one round,” &c.

It was only towards the commencement of the fifteenth century that chairs stuffed with straw or rushes first appeared; they folded in the form of the letter X (Fig. 5); the seats and arms being stuffed. In the sixteenth century chairs with backs (chaires or chayeres à dorseret), in carved oak or chestnut, painted and gilt, fell into disuse, even in the royal castles, as being too heavy and inconvenient, and on account of their enormous size (Figs. 6 and 7).

The dresser, which has just been described as used at the grand feast of Charles V., and which moreover has been retained, altered to a sideboard with shelves, almost to our time, was an article manufactured much less for use than for show. It was upon this dresser,—the introduction of which does not appear to go further back than the twelfth century, and the name whereof sufficiently describes its purpose,—that there was displayed, in the vast halls of manorial residences, not only all the valuable plate required for the table, but many other objects of goldsmith’s work which played no part in the banquet—vases of all sorts, statuettes, figures in high relief, jewels,

and even reliquaries. In palaces and mansions, the dressers were of gold, silver, or copper gilt; as were previously the tables. Persons of inferior rank had only wooden tables, but they were scrupulous in covering them with tapestry, embroidered cloth, and fine table-cloths. At one time the display of wealth on the dressers in ecclesiastical establishments attained to such a point, that we are reminded, among other censures levelled against that fashionable exhibition of vanity, of the expostulations of Martial d’Auvergne, author of the historical poem, “Les Vigiles de Charles VII.,” addressed to the bishops on the subject. One item significant enough is mentioned in ancient documents; it is the tribute of half-a-dozen small bouquets, which the inhabitants of Chaillot were bound to tender annually to the Abbey of Saint-German des Prés, to decorate the dressers of Messire the Abbot.

More plain, but also more useful, were the abace and the crédence, other kinds of sideboards which generally stood at a little distance from the table; on one of these were placed the dishes and plates for removes, on the other the goblets, glasses, and cups. It may be added that the crédence, before it was introduced in the dining-halls, had from very remote times been used in churches, where it was placed near the altar to receive the sacred vessels during the sacrifice of mass.

Posidonius, the Stoic philosopher, who wrote about a hundred years before the Christian era, tells us that, at the feasts of the Gauls, a slave used to bring to table an earthenware, or a silver, jug filled with wine, from which every guest quaffed in turn, and allayed his thirst. We thus see the practice of using goblets of silver, as well as of earthenware, established among the Gauls at a period we consider primitive. In truth, those vessels of silver were probably not the productions of local industry, but the spoil which those martial tribes had acquired in their wars against more civilised nations. With regard to the vases of baked clay, the majority of those frequently exhumed from burial-grounds prove how coarse they were, though they seem to have been made with the help of the potter’s wheel, as among the Romans. However that may be, we think it best to omit the consideration of the question in this place, and to resume it in the chapter on the Ceramic Art. But we must not forget to notice the custom which prevailed among the earliest inhabitants of our country, of offering to those most renowned for their valour beverages in a horn of the urus, which was either gilt or ornamented with bands of gold or silver. The urus was a species of ox, now extinct, that existed in a wild state in the forests with which Gaul was then partly covered. This horn goblet long continued to be the emblem of the highest warlike dignity among the nations who succeeded the Gauls. William of Poitiers relates, in his “Histoire de Guillaume le Conquérant,” that towards the end of the eleventh century, this Duke of Normandy still drank out of the horn of a bull, when he held his full court at Fécamp.

Our ancient kings, whose tables were made of the most precious metals, failed not also to display rare magnificence in the plate that stood on those superb tables. Chroniclers relate, for example, that Chilperic, “on the pretext of doing honour to the people whom he governed, had a dish made of solid gold, ornamented all over with precious stones, and weighing fifty pounds;” and again, that Lothaire one day distributed among his soldiers the fragments of an enormous silver basin, on which was designed “the world, with the courses of the stars and the planets.” In the absence of any authentic documents, it must be presumed that, in contrast to this regal style, or rather far removed therefrom, the rest of the nation scarcely used any other utensils but those of earthenware, or wood; or else of iron or copper.

Advancing in the course of centuries, and till the period when the progress of the ceramic art enabled its productions at length to rank among articles of luxury, we find gold and silver always preferred for dinner services; but marble, rock crystal, and glass appeared in turn, artistically worked in a thousand elegant or singular forms, as cups, ewers, large tumblers, goblets, &c. (Fig 8).

To the goblet, especially, seem to belong all honorary privileges in the etiquette of the table; for the goblet, a sort of large chalice on a thin stem, was more particularly regarded as an object of distinction by the guests, on account of the supposed antiquity of its origin. Thus we see represented among the presents given to the Abbey of St. Denis by the Emperor Charles the Bald, a goblet which is alleged to have belonged to Solomon, “which goblet was so marvellously wrought, that never (oncques) was there in all the kingdoms of the world a work so delicate (subtile).”

The goldsmiths, sculptors, and workers in copper had recourse to all the devices of art and imagination to embellish goblets, ewers, and salt-cellars. We find allusions, in the recitals of chroniclers, the romances of chivalry, and especially in old invoices and inventories, to ewers representing men, roses, and dolphins; to goblets covered with flowers and animals; to salt-cellars in the form of dragons, &c.

Several large pieces of gold plate, discontinued at a later period, glittered then at grand banquets. Especially may be noted the portable fountains raised in the middle of the table, and from which, during the repast, flowed several sorts of beverages. Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, had one in the form of a fortress with towers, from the summit of which the figure of a woman poured out hippocras (spiced wine) from her bosom, and that of a child, which sprinkled perfumed water.

There were also plate-holders, well described by Du Cange as large dishes made to contain vessels, cups, knives; comfit-boxes, which have been replaced by our modern bonbonnières, and which formerly were valuable caskets chased and damaskeened; and lastly, almsboxes, a description of metal-urns, richly chased; these were placed before the guests in order that, according to an ancient custom, each might place therein some portions of meat, to be subsequently distributed to the poor.

If we glance at the other minor objects which completed the table-service—knives, spoons, forks, bottle-stands, plate-mats, &c.—we shall see that they no less indicate refinement and luxury. Forks, that now seem to us so indispensable, are mentioned for the first time in 1379, in an inventory of Charles V. They had only two prongs, or rather two long sharp points. As for knives, which, with spoons, had to supply the place of forks for the guests to eat with, their antiquity is undoubted. Posidonius, whom we have already quoted, says, when speaking of the Celts:—“They eat in a very slovenly manner, and seize with their hands, like lions with their claws, whole quarters of meat, which they tear in pieces with their teeth. If they find a tough morsel, they cut it with a small knife which they always carry in a sheath at their side.” Of what were these knives made? Our author does not tell us; but we may assume that they were of flint or of polished stone, like the hatchets and arrow-heads so frequently found where these ancient people dwelt, and which bear testimony to their industry.

In the thirteenth century mention is made of knives, under the name of mensaculæ and artavi, which a little later were known by the word kenivet, from which evidently is derived canif. To complete this connection, we may remark that it is to be gathered, from a passage by the same author, that the blades of some knives of that period were made to slide into the handle by means of a spring, like our pocket-knives.

Spoons, which necessarily were used by all nations as soon as dishes more or less liquid were introduced, are described from the date of almost our earliest history. Accordingly, we see, in the “Life of St. Radegonde,” that that princess, who was constantly engaged in charitable acts, used a spoon for feeding the blind and the helpless whom she took under her care.

At a very remote period we find in use turquoises, or nut-crackers. Cruet-stands were, excepting in form, very similar to stands for two bottles; for they are thus described:—“A kind of double-necked bottle in divisions, in which to place two sorts of liquors without mixing them.” The plate-mats were our dessous de plat, made of wicker, wood, tin, or other metal.

The manufacture of the greater number of these articles, if intended for persons of rank, did not fail to engage the industry of artisans and the talent of artists. Spoons, forks, nut-crackers, cruet-stands, sauce-boats, &c., furnished inexhaustible subjects for embellishment and chasing; knife-handles, made of ivory, cedar-wood, gold, or silver, were also fashioned in the most varied forms. Until ceramic art introduced plates more or less costly, they naturally enough followed the shape of dishes, which in fact they are, on a small scale. But if the dishes were of enormous size, the plates were always very small.

If from the dining-room we pass to the kitchen, so as to form some idea of culinary utensils, we must admit that, anterior to the thirteenth century, the most circumstantial documents are all but silent on the subject. Nevertheless, some of the ancient poets and early romancers allude to those huge mechanical spits on which, at one and the same time, large joints of different kinds, entire sheep, or long rows of poultry and game, could be roasted. Moreover, we know that in palaces, and in the mansions of the nobility, copper cooking-utensils possessed real importance, because the care and maintenance of the copper-ware was entrusted to a person who bore the title of maignen, a name still given to the itinerant tinker. We also find that from the twelfth century there existed the corporation of braziers (dinans), who executed historical designs, in relievo, by the use of the hammer in beating out and embossing copper,—designs that would bear comparison with the most elaborate works produced by the goldsmith’s art. Some of these artisans obtained such reputation that their names have descended to us. Jean d’Outremeuse, Jean Delamare, Gautier de Coux, Lambert Patras, were among those who conferred honour on the art of brazier’s work (dinanderie).

From the kitchen to the cellar the distance is usually but short. Our forefathers, who were large consumers, and in their way had a delicate appreciation, of the juice of the vine, understood how to store the barrels which contained their wines in deep and spacious vaults. The cooper’s art, when almost unknown in Italy and Spain, had existed for a long time in France, as is attested by a passage taken from the “Mémoires de l’Académie des Inscriptions:”—“We see by the text of the Salic law that, when an estate changed hands, the new proprietor gave, in the first place, a feast, and the guests were bound to eat, in the presence of witnesses, a plate of boiled minced meat. It is remarked in the ‘Glossaire de Du Cange’ that, among the Saxons and Flemings, the word boden means a round table; because the peasantry used the bottom of a barrel as a table. Tacitus says that for the first meal of the day the Germans had each their own table; that is to say, apparently a full or empty barrel placed on end.”

A statute of Charlemagne alludes to bons barils (bonos barridos). These barrels were made by skilled coopers (Fig. 9), who gave all their care to form of staves, hooped either with wood or iron, the casks destined to hold the produce of the vintage. According to an old custom, still in vogue in the south of France, the inside of the wine-skin used to be painted with tar, in order to give a flavour to the wine; to us this would perhaps be nauseous, but at that time it was held in high favour. In alluding to wine-skins, or sewn skins coated with pitch, we may remark that they date from the earliest historic times. They are still employed in countries where wine is carried on pack-animals, and they were much used for journeys. If a traveller was going into a country where he expected to find nothing to drink, he would fasten a wine-skin on the crupper of his horse’s saddle, or, at least, would sling a small leather wine-skin across his shoulder. Etymologists even maintain that from the name of these light wine-skins, outres légères, was derived the old French word bouteille; that, first having been designated bouchiaux, and boutiaux, they finally were named bouties and boutilles. When, in the thirteenth century, the Bishop of Amiens was setting out for the wars, the tanners of his episcopal town were bound to supply him with two leathern bouchiaux—one holding a hogshead, the other twenty-four setiers.

Some archæologists maintain that, when there had been a very abundant vintage, the wine was stored in brick-built cisterns, such as are still made in Normandy for cider; or that they were cut out of the solid rock, as we see them sometimes in the south of France; but it is more probable that these ancient cisterns, which are perhaps of an earlier date than the Middle Ages, were more especially intended for the process of fermentation—that is to say, for making wine, and not for storing it; which, indeed, under such unfavourable circumstances, would have been next to impossible.

What light did our ancestors use? History tells us that at first they used lamps with stands, and hanging lamps, in imitation of the Romans; which, however, must not lead us to the conclusion that, even in the remotest times of our annals, the use of fat and wax for such purposes was absolutely unknown. This fact is the less doubtful because, from the time when trade corporations were formed, we find the makers of candles and wax-chandlers

of Paris governed by certain statutes. As for the lamps, which, as in ancient times, were on stands placed for this purpose in the houses, or were suspended by light chains (Figs. 10 and 11), they were made in accordance with the means of those for whom they were intended, and were of baked earth, iron, brass, and gold or silver, all more or less ornamented. Lamps and candlesticks are not unfrequently mentioned in the inventories of the Middle Ages. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, German artisans made torch-holders, flambeaux, and chandeliers in copper, wrought and embellished with representations of all kinds of natural or fantastic objects; and in those days these works of art were much in request. The use of lamps was all but general in the early days of the monarchy; but as the somewhat dim and smoky flame which they furnished did not give sufficient brilliancy to the entertainments and solemn assemblies held in the evening, it became an established custom to add to these lamps the light of resinous torches, which serfs held in their hands. The tragic episode of the Ballet des Ardents, as told by Froissart—which we shall hereafter relate in the chapter on Playing Cards—shows that this custom, which we already see alluded to in Grégoire de Tours, our earliest historian, was in fashion until the reign of Charles VI.

In subjugating the East, the Romans assumed and brought back with them extreme notions of luxury and indolence. Previously their bedsteads were of planks, covered with straw, moss, or dried leaves. They borrowed from Asia those large carved bedsteads, gilt and plated with ivory, whereon were piled cushions of wool and feathers, with counterpanes of the most beautiful furs and of the richest materials.

These customs, like many others, were handed down from the Romans to the Gauls, and from the Gauls to the Franks. With the exception of bed-linen, which came into use much later, we find, from the time of our earliest kings, the various sleeping appliances nearly as they are now—the pillow (auriculare), the foot-coverlet (lorale), the counterpane (culcita), &c. No mention, however, is made of curtains (or courtines).

At a later period, while still retaining their primitive furniture, bedsteads vary in their shapes and dimensions: those of the poor and of the monks are narrow and homely; among kings and nobles they, in process of time, became veritable examples of the joiner’s work, and only to be reached by the aid of stools, or even steps (Fig. 12). The guest at a château could not receive any greater honour than to occupy the same bed as the lord of the manor; and the dogs by whom the seigneurs—all great sportsmen—were constantly surrounded had the privilege of reposing where their masters slept. Hence we recognise the object of these gigantic bedsteads, which were sometimes twelve feet in width. If we are to believe the chronicles, the pillows were perfumed with essences and odoriferous waters; this we can understand to have been by no means a useless precaution. We see, in the sixteenth century, Francis I. testifying his great regard for Admiral Bonnivet by occasionally admitting him to share his bed.

Having completed our review of furniture, properly so called, we have now to treat of that which may be termed highly artistic articles of furniture—that is, those on which the workers in wood exercised their highest talents—elevated seats of honour, chairs and arm-chairs, benches and trestles; all of which were frequently ornamented with figures in relief, very elaborately sculptured with a knife (canivet); the bahuts, a kind of chest with either a flat or convex top, resting on feet, and opening on the upper side, whereon were placed stuffed leather cushions (Fig. 13); tubs, buffets,

presses, coffers both large and small, chess-boards, dice-tables, comb-boxes, which have been superseded by our dressing-cases, &c. Many specimens of these various kinds of furniture have descended to our time; and they prove to what a degree of perfection and of elaborate finish the art of cabinet-making and of inlaying had attained in the Middle Ages. Elegance and originality of design in inlaid metals, jasper, mother-of-pearl, ivory; carving, various kinds of veneering, and of stained woods, are all found combined in this description of furniture; some of which was ornamented with extreme delicacy of taste (Plate I.), and still remains inimitable, if not in all the details of execution, at least in rich and harmonious effect.

At the time of the Renaissance, cabinets with numerous drawers and in several compartments were introduced: these were known in Germany by the name of artistic cabinets (armoires artistiques): the sole object of the maker was to combine in one piece of furniture, under the pretext of utility, all the fascination and gorgeous caprices of decorative art.

To the Germans must be awarded the merit of having been the first to distinguish themselves in the manufacture of these magnificent cabinets, or presses; but they soon found rivals in both the French (Fig. 14) and Italians (Fig. 15), who proved themselves equally skilful and ingenious in the execution of this kind of manufacture.

The art of working in iron, which can legitimately rank as one of the most notable industries of the Middle Ages, soon came to lend its aid to that of cabinet-making, both in embellishing and giving solidity to its chefs-d’œuvre. The ornamentation of cabinets and coffers was remarkable for the good taste and the high finish displayed in them.