Treasures from Faraway - Strawberry Hill Exhibition Catalogue

TREASURES FROM FARAWAY

Medieval and Renaissance Objects from the Schroder Collection Exhibition Catalogue

TREASURES FROM FARAWAY: Medieval and Renaissance Objects from the Schroder Collection

A catalogue written by the students of the MA in the Art Market and the History of Collecting and the MA in Decorative Arts and Historic Interiors of the University of Buckingham

Edited by Adriano Aymonino, Silvia Davoli and Lindsay Macnaughton Strawberry Hill Publications

CONTENTS

First published by Strawberry Hill House & Garden to accompany the exhibition

TREASURES FROM FARAWAY:

Medieval and Renaissance Objects from The Schroder Collection

19 March - 19 July 2023

The exhibition has been generously supported by The Schroder Collection

Copyright

© 2023 The Strawberry Hill Trust

All right reserved. No part of this publication may be transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any storage or retrieval system, without the prior permission in writing from The Strawberry Hill Trust.

ISBN 978 1 7393197 0 0

Photograpy of The Schroder Collection pieces courtesy of The Schroder Collection

Design by Bethan Wood Marketing & Communications Manager

Strawberry Hill House & Garden

Front Cover: Nautilus Cup (cat. no. 7)

Back Cover: Detail of Nautilus Cup (cat. no. 7)

With thanks to Adriano Aymonino, Silvia Davoli and Lindsay Macnaughton and all the students from the University of Buckingham.

strawberryhillhouse.org.uk

Foreword: Derek Purnell 1

Preface: Caterina Badan 3

Introduction: Silvia Davoli 5

Stealing the Senses: The Lure of Materials at Strawberry Hill: Anne-Marie Bannister 7

Materials:

Silver and Gold: Constance Booker 15

Rock Crystal: Kelsey Weeks 17

Ivory: Sophia Selby 19

Coconut: Laetitia Chardon 21

Horn:Victoria Comstock-Kershaw 23

Shell - Nautilus: Clementine Edney 25

Chinese Porcelain: Lindsay Macnaughton 27

Catalogue:

The Grandmont Reliquary: Laetitia Chardon 31

Ewer: Fiona Ricklow 34

Tankard: Cross Nelson 37

Lidded Tankard: Silvia Davoli 40

Cup in the Form of an Owl: Isabella McDonald 43

The Garsenbuttel Drinking Horn: Isabella McDonald 45

Nautilus Cup: Clementine Edney 47

Nautilus Cup: Victoria Comstock-Kershaw 49

Ewer: Bridget Garza Griffin 51

Bowl: Francesca John 53

Bibliography 55

FOREWORD

Derek Purnell, Director of Strawberry Hill House & Garden

Strawberry Hill House & Garden has been open to visitors for over 250 years. Created by Horace Walpole in the eighteenth century, Strawberry Hill House is internationally famous as Britain’s finest example of Georgian Gothic revival architecture.

Early in 2021 the idea of introducing a series of small ‘In-Focus’ displays at Strawberry Hill House took root and discussions began about which objects might feature in the series. It concerned us that some objects where somewhat ‘tucked away’ and merited a moment, both physically and metaphorically, in the spotlight. The rock crystal ewer that was on loan from the Schroder Collection was one such object. The significance of this object was highlighted in August 2021 when a request was received for Jeremy Johns and Elise Morero from Oxford University to examine and analyse the ewer as part of their research on Islamic rock crystal. This only served to strengthen the resolve to place this object ‘InFocus’.

In Spring 2022, with grateful thanks to the Arts Council’s Acceptance in Lieu Scheme, Strawberry Hill was fortunate to receive a remarkable tankard commissioned by Sir Robert Walpole, into its collection. So yet another item worthy of the spotlight. It is therefore a delight to finally present these two objects but even more so given that thanks to the generosity of the Schroder Collection, we are able to expand this exhibition to include eight other rarely seen extraordinary objects.

Horace Walpole was an eclectic collector and rather than just a cabinet of curiosities, it could be argued that Strawberry Hill was (and still is) a house of curiosities.

Many of the objects in the exhibition are similar to those in Walpole’s collection and reflect the eighteenthcentury fascination with all works of art that demonstrate the artistic talent, imagination, skill and craft of their creators.

I offer sincere thanks for the generosity extended to Strawberry Hill Trust by the Schroder Family, without whose enthusiasm and support this exhibition would not be possible.

My thanks to Caterina Badan, Curator of the Schroder Collection and to my colleagues Silvia Davoli, Curator at Strawberry Hill House, Julia Reed, Administration & Operational Officer, Bethan Wood, Marketing & Communications Manager and everyone behind the scenes for their commitment and work on this project.

I also would like to thank Adriano Aymonino and Lindsay Macnaughton and the students from the University of Buckingham for their contributions to this catalogue.

I trust the exhibition and this accompanying catalogue will fascinate and arouse your curiosity as did these objects when first created.

PREFACE

Caterina Badan

The Schroder silver collection includes approximately 115 objects, covering seven centuries of European goldsmith art. Its origins date back to the 1870s, when Baron Sir John Henry Schroder (1825-1910) started collecting paintings and objects d’art to decorate The Dell, his residence near Windsor. Inheriting the same passion for collecting, his nephew and successor Baron Bruno Schroder (1867-1940) built on this initial group, assembling what is today considered as one of the finest European silver collections in private hands.

The Schroder family first came to England from Hamburg in the early nineteenth century and became one of the most successful merchant banking dynasties in Europe. Johann Heinrich (1784-1883) set up his own business in London in 1818, and while nothing is known of his artistic interests, his son John Henry acquired works of art on a grand scale. He belonged to a generation of businessmen and bankers that included Sir Ernest Cassel, Sir Julius Wernher and the Rothschild family, all of whom shared very similar collecting interests – with the latter two recreating true Schatzkammer in their homes.

John Henry’s collection included medieval and Renaissance silver, contemporary pictures, Sèvres porcelain, Chinese enamel, gold snuff boxes, Renaissance works of art, and a collection of antique and Renaissance cameos and intaglios. Among the latter were several important gems from the famous collection of the fourth Duke of Marlborough. Two pieces from John Henry’s collection are included in Treasures from Faraway: the Wanli porcelain bowl with Elizabethan silver-gilt mounts (cat. no. 10) and most likely the Nuremberg nautilus cup engraved with a Chinese processional scene (cat. no. 8). These highly decorative pieces seem to be somewhat exceptions in John Henry’s usual preference for more restrained styles.

John Henry died in 1910 without children and appointed as his heir his nephew Baron Bruno Schroder, who had been a partner at his firm since 1895. Bruno inherited his uncle’s English estate and the silver collection. But most of John Henry’s collection was not retained. His contemporary paintings were bequeathed to the Hamburg Kunsthalle, while many others were sold at a two-day sale at Christie’s. Among the most eager bidders was Baron Bruno, who bought back many of the objects from his uncle’s collection.

Bruno and his wife Emma (1874-1944) built a new home, Dell Park, which they filled with an evergrowing art collection. They greatly expanded John Henry’s early group of silver, particularly developing the holdings of precious Kunst- and Wunderkammer objects. The couple also gathered an impressive collection of seventeenth-century Dutch paintings, and in just five years assembled an important group of early German and Flemish portraits, today on permanent loan to the Holburne Museum in Bath. They paid great attention to the quality and authenticity of their acquisitions, enlisting the advice of the most renowned experts and scholars of their time, such as Max Friedlander for Northern Renaissance paintings and Marc Rosenberg for silver. They also had a strong presence at the sales of well-known collections, purchasing classical antiquities from the Thomas Hope collection in 1917; maiolica from the collections of John Edward Taylor in 1912 and Sir Francis Cook in 1925; silver and paintings came from Sir George Holford’s collection in 1927 and 1928.

The following generations of the Schroder family have played a more custodial role, with the late Bruno Schroder adding only a few, albeit exceptional, objects to the collection. The family have a keen interest in sharing the collection with a wider audience through frequent collaborations with UK and international museums.

INTRODUCTION

Silvia Davoli

During the Renaissance and Baroque period, the habit of collecting valuable objects in the cabinet of curiosities, or Kunst- and Wunderkammer, developed in the courts of Northern and Southern Europe. This tradition evolved from the previous medieval custom of preserving precious objects and relics in the treasure chamber, or Schatzkammer, of churches, monasteries, or royal courts.1

The cabinet of curiosities comprised not only art objects, but anything that was unique, “exotic” or valuable, and therefore worth collecting. These collections included specimens belonging to the natural world, such as stones, shells and corals (naturalia), as well as man-made objects, as works of art or antiquities (artificialia), and ethnographic or “exotic” items (exotica). As a microcosm intended to replicate the variety and complexity of the macrocosm, the cabinet of curiosities conveyed the patron’s control of the world symbolically, through its indoor reproduction. The objects displayed were meant to convey wonder, curiosity and amazement.2 This stupor could be prompted by natural objects that featured anthropomorphic or eccentric shapes, for instance, but equally by objects whose craftsmanship defied the precision and variety of nature, or by precious “exotic” materials considered to have magical powers. The rarity and importance of these materials was often highlighted thanks to the addition of gold and silver mounts of the highest quality.

In the seventeenth century, the availability of materials from faraway lands in the European cabinet of curiosities increased. This was due to Spanish and Portuguese maritime explorations, to the expansion of the Ottoman Empire, and to the activities of the Dutch and English East India Companies.3

This exhibition draws out the encounter between the skilled craftsmanship of European goldsmiths and the rare materials that came from places as far as East Asia, the Americas and the Pacific. Strawberry Hill has been offered the unique opportunity to display some exceptional objects that emerged from this tradition, collected by several generations of the Schroder family. Horace Walpole himself owned similar objects, such as the rock crystal Ewer on display, or the Ivory Lidded Tankard (cat. nos 2 and 4)

Rock crystal is at the centre of the Grandmont Reliquary (cat. no. 1), the Ewer (cat.no. 2) and the German Tankard (cat. no. 3). Considered as a symbol of virtue, the extraordinary purity and transparency of this material was also used as a talisman to protect the beholder from negative forces and poison.

Coconuts and nautilus shells were considered as precious rarities in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries when they were first imported by Portuguese merchant ships and by the Dutch and English East India Companies. The naturally rounded shape and malleability of coconuts, as shown in the Cup in the Form of an Owl (cat. no. 5), and the sinuous structure and the mother-of-pearl coating of the nautilus shells, here mounted in extraordinary Cups (cat. nos 7-8), were regarded as particularly suitable for the manufacturing of sophisticated drinking vessels. Horn was also used to produce similar items. Horn was often left virtually unmodified, but highly polished, as seen in the Garsenbuttel Drinking Horn (cat. no. 6), where a buffalo horn has been turned into a griffin’s claw, filled with magical powers, and also the symbol of the Garsenbuttel family.

Ivory was another material that was highly valued for its rarity, preciousness and versatility. Imported from Africa and Asia via Egypt, Syria and Cyprus, it was used in the Middle Ages to produce mainly religious objects. From the Renaissance onwards, it became increasingly used for more secular pieces. The art of carving an ivory tusk to produce a vase or a cup was particularly admired. The Ivory Tankard on display here (cat. no. 4) – a recent acquisition by Strawberry Hill thanks to an AIL donation – combines an ivory body that was probably carved in Germany in the seventeenth century, and silver mounts commissioned by Robert Walpole, Horace’s father, in 1739.

Finally, Chinese blue and white porcelain constituted a great rarity in Europe in the early modern period. Porcelain was collected because of its distinctive smooth and bright consistency, but also for its material qualities. Europeans failed to produce true porcelain until the eighteenth century. Early examples of Chinese porcelain, like this blue and white porcelain Ewer and Bowl dating to the sixteenth century (cat. nos 9-10), were often mounted in silver or gold to emphasise their rarity and preciousness.

© Stiftung Preußische Schlösser und Gärten Berlin-Brandenburg / Handrick, Roland (1999)

This in-focus exhibition aims to highlight both the symbolic and material characteristics of these objects, as well as to explore the ways in which these “exotic” materials travelled far from their native sites of production into new cultural contexts, where they acquired new meanings and values.

1Literature on the cabinet of curiosities and the  Kunst- and  Wunderkammer is vast. See in particular Scheicher 1979; Lugli 1990;  Age of the Marvelous 1991; Lugli 1997;  Rudolf II and Prague 1997; Impey and MacGregor 2001;  Princely Splendor 2004; Mauriès 2011; Haag, Kirchweger and Rainer 2015;  Paston Treasure 2018;  Making Marvels 2019; Schlosser 2021; Smith 2022.

2 Specifically on the concepts of curiosity and wonder in Renaissance and baroque collections see Pomian 1990, pp. 45-64;  Age of the Marvelous 1991; Daston and Park 1998; MacGregor 2007.

3 A recent good summary on “exotic” items in the  Kunst- and Wunderkammer tradition is Reiner 2019.

Fig. 1. Georg Hainz, A Cabinet of Curiosities, c. 1666, oil on canvas, 127.50 × 102 cm, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin (no. GK I 3002).

STEALING THE SENSES: THE LURE OF MATERIALS AT STRAWBERRY HILL

Anne-Marie Bannister

A CASTLE OF SURPRISES

Horace Walpole once described his home at Strawberry Hill as ‘the prettiest bauble you ever saw. It is set with enamelled meadows, with filigree hedges’.1 This description of his home as a delightful, but insignificant, trinket is a glimpse of Walpole’s love of decorative surfaces, yet it masks the reality that was Strawberry Hill. The first sight of the snow-white exterior of Strawberry Hill as a fairy tale castle with its fantasy Gothic turrets, set amidst colourful gardens, immediately appealed to the romantic sensibilities of his visitors, enticing them to enter for a light-hearted escape. But inside an experience unlike any other awaited them: Walpole’s Strawberry Hill was not a Wunderkammer in the traditional sense, but a place of wonder, a theatre detached from reality where all was not what it seemed. Artifice featured heavily with copies of works of art, trompe l’oeil elements, and masonry made from papier maché. Light, shadows, and surprises abounded to excite unexpected sensations, including pleasure, awe, but also unease, and materials – whether simple like paper, precious like hardstones and metals, or “exotic” like ivory – were crucial tools in conjuring up such emotions. Visitors undertook a mood journey in which Walpole used his objects to create a past infused with colour, light, shimmering surfaces and evocative historical associations. He was deeply concerned with how materials made people feel. He wrote in 1772 that he deliberately created aesthetic experiences in his home by studying ‘lights and shades and by attending to a harmony of colours’, adding, ‘I have practised all the rules in my house at Strawberry Hill and have observed the impressions made on spectators by these arts’.2 The sensations and associations that the objects he collected provoked were more important to him than any intellectual learnings the visitor might gain from them.

Ultimately, for Walpole and visitors alike, everything depended on the location and placement of objects.3 Walpole prioritised display over taxonomy, by using unexpected but deliberate juxtapositions that could both delight and confound the viewer. Given Walpole’s own fascination with the material and historical qualities of beautiful objects, and the wonder his home induced in

its early visitors, Strawberry Hill is the natural stage to display treasures from the Schroder Collection, some of which were once owned by Walpole himself.

MATERIALS, THEIR EFFECTS AND DISPLAY

Walpole was an aesthete by nature and his sensibilities towards beauty drew him towards exceptional or unusual works of art. One of his early purchases was an enormous Roman eagle made from marble,4 and his friend Horace Mann procured for him a bronze bust of Caligula with silver eyes.5 Sir William Hamilton sent him a ‘magnificent table of Saracen mosaic…of the most extraordinary effect, the design, colours and workmanship singularly rich’ from Rome.6 By the end of his life his collection included a cornucopia of dazzling objects from across time.

The catalogue from the Sale of Contents of Strawberry Hill in 1842 reveals his penchant for precious materials: for example, ‘oriental turquoise blue china incense burners’, 7 lapis lazuli dessert knives, an amber toothpick, John Dee’s ‘speculum of kennel coal… a curious relic of the superstition of our ancestors’.8 The materials used to make such items added to their mystery and to any historical or magical associations.

Walpole was part of a generation of visionary antiquarians who were embracing a new way of studying the past. Influenced by Joseph Addison’s view that sight was the most important of the five senses and the greatest stimulus to imaginative thought,9 they prioritized visual, object-based analysis over literature, interrogating style, colour and materials. Walpole and his fellow members of the Society of Antiquaries worked collectively and exchanged the information they discovered from physically examining objects.

Small objects in multiples, such as intaglios, miniatures and coins were especially appealing as they could be held in one’s hand and closely examined. Their common goal was to create a new academic discipline in the study of art.

Fig. 1. Léonard Limousin (c. 1505 - c. 1575/7), Hunting Horn, 1538, copper, painted enamel and cow’s horn, w. 30.5 cm, private collection

But Walpole also prized larger medieval and Renaissance objects in the Wunderkammer tradition. These included the ewer made from glistening rock crystal, featured in the current exhibition (cat. no. 2), and the pearlescent lustre of nautilus shells, as he owned a nautilus cup similar to another of the exhibition’s objects (cat. no. 7) 10 He prized historical and aristocratic provenance: both the crystal ewer and the nautilus had been owned by the Paston Family and the latter was enhanced by their engraved heraldic device.11 Walpole did not display these objects in a cabinet of curiosities, as his English or European collecting predecessors might have done, but instead in his Great North Bedchamber. This was a room of ‘gaeitie’ where the light would have danced on their shimmering surfaces, juxtaposing them with ebony chairs and a Gothic-style chimney piece he designed himself after Bishop Dudley’s tomb in Westminster Abbey. This was interior design intended to provoke an emotional response. Historical curiosities like the nautilus and ewer were enhanced by the atmospheric lighting.

Walpole’s collection at Strawberry Hill was displayed in a deliberately unsettling way. For instance, a hunting ox horn hung over an ebony table in the Great Parlour. Like the Garsenbuttel drinking horn (cat. no. 6), Walpole’s was beautifully embellished; decorated with Limoges enamel in jewelled colours on one side and in chiaro scuro on the other so the contrast against the black of the table would have been startling (fig. 1).12 Walpole also owned a Limoges reliquary which he described as ‘a model of the shrine of Thomas Becket’.13 St Thomas Becket had been known in the medieval world as ‘the lamp of England’ who ‘glistened with remarkable miracles’.14 This object’s surface sheen was enhanced by its saintly connotations, which would not have been lost on Walpole as a historian, nor on his guests. Such reliquaries offered an immediate portal to the religious devotion of the past. Its significance as one of Walpole’s ‘Principal Curiosities’ was emphasised by its display in one of the glazed cabinets flanking the so-called altar in the Tribune (fig. 2), a pseudo-sacred room ‘with all the air of a Catholic chapel – bar consecration’.15 The name Tribune, used by Walpole after 1781, referred to the Tribuna, the celebrated Medici cabinet of treasures in the Uffizi. Walpole’s space, ‘reminiscent of the principal apse of a Renaissance church’,16 had a star of yellow painted glass in the vault to give the room ‘a golden gloom’.17 It also featured a luxurious carpet and showcased the treasure Walpole described as ‘the most beautiful silver bell made for a Pope’,18 to add to the air of sanctity.

Ivory had been valued across centuries for its magical and symbolic associations.19 It symbolised purity in the Christian tradition, and together with other precious materials, served to create an atmosphere reminiscent of a sacred space.

A GOLDEN “GLOOMTH”

Walking through Strawberry Hill was a journey to excite the senses. Passing from the Tribune to the Great North Bedchamber was ‘the more surprising from not being expected, and from the striking contrast between the awe expressed by the Chapel and the gush of light, gaudiness and grandeur of the bedchamber’, writes Walpole.20

Philosophical thinking concerning aesthetics evolved in the eighteenth century and contributed to Walpole’s own preferences. David Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature (1739)21 and Edmund Burke’s Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful (1757)22 stated that all human knowledge derives solely from experience. Burke wrote that beauty, which provokes pleasure, and sublimity, which excites the senses could arise from feelings of unease.23 Walpole explored the atmosphere associated with the Gothic in this sense, as he wrote that ‘one must ... be sensible of the beauties of Grecian architecture, one only wants passions to feel gothic.’24 For Walpole, Gothic was the perfect vehicle to experience the sublime. Architects such as Sanderson Miller and John Chute - the latter executed the exterior of Strawberry Hill - had also used the Gothic style at houses such as Lacock Abbey and The Vyne respectively. Both architects were, like Walpole, members of the Society of Antiquaries and were fascinated by the Britain of the distant past.

9 TREASURES FROM FARAWAY

The Palladian-style rosewood cabinet he designed was placed over the “altar”. It contained small treasures including precious portrait miniatures and acted as a kind of tabernacle. The effect of this “holy of holy” cabinets was enhanced by ivory figures depicting heroes of modern classicism.

Walpole coined the word “gloomth” to describe the atmosphere he was conjuring, ‘a world of airy and intricate effects combined with solemnity and shadow.’25 “Gloomth” recalls other words used to describe light, for example, gleam, glow and glisten. The word also evokes the magical, otherworldly time between day and night (“gloaming”) when light gives way to gradual darkness. Walpole employed the reflection of light on shiny materials to create drama. Visitors entering the Hall were given a taste of the journey to come by their sudden immersion into an ethereal-like “gloaming”, an unsettling atmosphere of light, shade and dappled colour. This effect was created by windows framing fragments of medieval stained glass and a curious lamp, lit by a single candle at night. ‘In the well of the staircase’, wrote Walpole, ‘... hangs a Gothic lanthorn of tin japanned, designed by Mr Bentley, and filled with painted glass.26 Journeying through Strawberry Hill, the sublime provoked sensations that could be enjoyed in a framework of unreality, but one from which one could safely exit.

Fig. 2. John Carter, The Tribune at Strawberry Hill, c. 1789, watercolour, 59.2 × 49.5 cm, The Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University (no. sh-000415)

Walpole’s treasures came from various sources, either bought or gifted. He visited provincial auctions run by country antique dealers, ‘nicknackitarians’,27 searching out curiosities or objects of historical interest, an activity which was in this period rare for a gentleman. At one country house auction he delightedly described himself as ‘up to my chin in ebony’.28 Ebony furniture appears frequently at Strawberry Hill to provide a contrast of colour and supposed historical gravitas. Indeed, Walpole was convinced that furniture made from ebony was medieval (whereas much of it was later Indo-Portuguese) and therefore prized as ‘the true black blood’.29

Walpole was building an experience of the past in the present through an atmosphere created by dissembling these historical curiosities and their stories. Objects which were connected to a historical person, as with his nautilus cup, or even a historical event, were prized. If the provenance, or place of origin as with ebony, was dubious, this was of little importance, because it was secondary to the aesthetic qualities of an object. Examples of this are evident in the artistic license he used to reconstruct his own family history with materials. He adorned his Library with family portraits amidst Gothic tracery, and the rococo ceiling was detailed with the arms and shields of the Walpole family. The illuminated Psalter of the Prince of Anjou with its impressive provenance was displayed in a wooden box inlaid with agate and lapis lazuli. This was decorated with drawings of his family coat of arms and those of its previous owners in the lid, ostentatiously linking himself to the connoisseurs and collectors of the past.30

Walpole flaunted his carefully reconstructed ancestry by literally embedding it into the fabric of the room and highlighting an object’s “medieval” materiality. He drew attention to his lineage in another object which indicates his respect for treasure cabinets of the past, although very much in his own style: ‘A beautiful ebony and gold cabinet, enriched with 17 rare original drawings by Lady Diana Beauclerc [sic], and medallions studded with precious stones, lapis lazuli, cornelian, agates, &c., and with strawberries, and Mr. Walpole’s arms and crest, on gothic stand with gilt border’ (fig. 3).31 This cabinet recalls early seventeenth- and early eighteenthcentury continental cabinets inlaid with marquetry, pietre dure scenes and drawings. Its diminutive scale and tall legs link it to medal and jewel cabinets of the later eighteenth century. Inside it, specimens of marbles, agates and precious stones await intimate examination. Strawberry motifs and Walpole’s coat of arms appear on the exterior: at Strawberry Hill, collection is tied to place.

Objects were not always fixed within their frames or cases at Strawberry Hill. Many of Walpole’s historical curiosities had been displaced from their original contexts and he used them to create new historical narratives or performances. He used his collection in a playful way, and some objects became props or costumes.

In 1769 he organised a festino (entertainment) for mainly foreign guests, later writing: ‘They arrived at two. At the gates of the castle, I received them dressed in the cravat of Gibbins [sic] carving, and a pair of gloves embroidered up to the elbows that had belonged to James I. The French servants stared and firmly believed that that this was the dress of an English country gentleman’.32

Walpole used his collection to play with his visitors’ preconceptions and provoke an emotional response from them. Ultimately, the sensations prompted by decorative objects were central to his own sense of identity. For someone who at times stood on the margins of polite society, describing himself as ‘an ingenious trifler’,33 and his house as an insignificant ‘bauble’, Horace Walpole’s methods of displaying treasures and materials from faraway at Strawberry Hill enabled him to recreate a past which could accommodate the imagination and enable him to become the hero of his own creation.

1 Walpole’s Correspondence 1937-83, vol. 37, pp. 269-71 (Horace Walpole to Henry Conway, 8 June 1747).

2 Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, p. 348.

3 Hewat-Jaboor 2020.

4 Lost Treasures 2018, p. 21.

5 Description 1774, pp. 87-8.

6 Strawberry Hill 1842, 12 May, lot 11.

7 Strawberry Hill 1842, 20 May, lot 117.

8 Lost Treasures 2018, p. 100.

9 Addison 1712.

10 Lost Treasures 2018, p. 98.

11 Paston Treasure 2018, respectively p. 436, no. 136, pp. 286-9, no. 20.

12 Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, pp. 202-3, 289, no. 65; Lost Treasures 2018, p. 42.

13 Lost Treasures 2018, p. 95.

14 Slocum 2004, p. 79.

15 Walpole’s Correspondence 1937-83, vol. 21, pp. 305-7 (Horace Walpole to Horace Mann, 8 July 1759).

16 Lost Treasures 2018, p. 84.

17 Walpole 1842, p. 28.

18 Ibid., p. 33.

19 See Sophia Selby’s essay in this catalogue.

20 Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, p. 348.

21 Hume 1969.

22 Burke 1998.

23 Burke 1998, p. 157.

24 Walpole 1762-71, Vol. 1, pp. 198-200.

25 Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, p. 16.

26 Walpole 1774, p. 4.

27 Wainwright 1989, p. 33.

28 Wainwright 1989, p. 90.

29 Walpole’s Correspondence 1937-83, vol. 10, pp. 76-7 (Horace Walpole to George Montagu, 30 May 1763).

30 Lost Treasures 2018, p. 104.

31 Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, pp. 160-1, 336, no. 254.

32 Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, p. 88, see also p. 300, no. 109, and p. 316, no. 167.

33 Johnson 1967, p. 65.

11 TREASURES FROM FARAWAY

Fig. 3. Edward Edwards and Lady Diana Beauclerk, Ebony Cabinet, 1783-4, ebony veneer with gilding, oak and mahogany, gilt metal mounts, drawings, stone, wedgwood, enamel, reverse painted glass decoration, 127.5 × 48.5 × 40.7 cm, The Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University (no. sh-000036)

SILVER & GOLD

Constance Booker

Silver and gold, materials used by goldsmiths, are chemical elements and precious metals that are found naturally distributed in the Earth’s crust in very small quantities. While gold is mostly found in its pure metallic form in auriferous rocks and in alluvial deposits (rivers) through erosion, it is rarer to find native silver. The latter is usually present in ores combined with other elements or metals. The process of separating metals through heat and oxidation made it possible to isolate silver and to exploit it more widely from the 4th millennium BC.1 Silver and gold deposits can be found on every continent and the metals were already being mined and transformed in Eurasia and North Africa from the Chalcolithic period (about 5000 BC - 3000 BC).

In Europe, artefacts dated between the middle of the fifth and the middle of the fourth millennium BC show the oldest known uses of silver and gold.2 Through the ages, due to their preciousness and rarity, these metals were reserved for royalty as a symbol of status and wealth, but they were also used for honouring the gods. While silver oxidises and tarnishes, gold is imperishable. For this reason, the yellow metal was associated by many cultures with permanency, purity and, by extension, the divine (fig. 1 and cat. no. 1).3 This material and symbolic superiority of gold explains the place of silver-gilt in the history of goldsmithing.

Until the eighteenth century, the process used to produce silver-gilt was mercury-gilding, a technique invented by the ancient Greeks which consists of gilding an object by applying and firing an amalgam of gold and mercury onto a piece of silver. By using a very small amount of gold, this process makes it possible to give silver the same colour and a greater brilliance than gold itself at a much lower cost.4

The cost-saving aspect of this practice was all the more justified at the end of the Roman Empire. Even as known gold deposits became depleted, the establishment of the medieval Christian Church and new wealthy families in Europe generated a great demand for liturgical materials and household tableware made of silver and gold.5 Objects used for religious rituals as intermediaries between the mortal and divine worlds, utilised as secular tableware displayed on the buffets and sideboards of the aristocracy, or given as diplomatic gifts, had to be adorned with precious metals. The monetary value of the metals, and the possibility of melting them down, guaranteed a potential financial resource in times of need. Goldsmiths played on the economic benefits of gilding while taking advantage of the increasing availability of silver. Indeed, new deposits of silver emerged throughout the Middle Ages in Central Europe before the discovery and colonisation of the metal-rich lands of the ‘New World’ by the Spanish in the sixteenth century. The mining of the silver-bearing veins of Central and South America, accompanied by the enslavement and exploitation of the native populations, was responsible for nearly 80% of the world’s silver production between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries and formed the basis of the first intercontinental trading system linking the Americas, Europe and China.6

This globalisation of trade allowed goldsmiths to incorporate other precious materials into their artistic production from the sixteenth century onwards, transforming the value of goldsmithing. Mounted objects - that is to say, objects or materials considered “exotic” set within metal mounts - were dependent on an ancient tradition. Already in the Middle Ages, in church treasuries, materials such as enamel or gems were used in association with silver and gold.7 However, while these precious materials at first served to adorn the surfaces of the object, gold and silver were increasingly used to set and present other materials. The Grandmont Reliquary (cat. no. 1) is an example of this in practice: the silver-gilt, decorated with gems and enamel, serves as a support for the piece of rock crystal, the central element of the liturgical object.

This secondary use of silver and gold developed in order to support or mount objects for the secular cabinets of curiosities, or Kunst- and Wunderkammer, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.8 The divine symbolism of noble metals was used in secular objects to highlight the owner’s wealth and to complement the magical or supernatural powers attributed to certain “exotic” materials. While the gold and silver of the Grandmont Reliquary helped to present holy relics and rock crystal, the metals used on the ewer and the bowl (cat. nos 9-10) served as protection for their Chinese porcelain elements, said to crack on contact with poison.9 Thanks to the creativity of goldsmiths and engravers, precious organic specimen were elevated to the rank of objets d’art, or art objects, whose forms were often those of domestic and display silverware but which, in reality, were intended for contemplation in the privacy of cabinets of curiosities (cat. nos 4-8)

Fig. 2. Willem Kalf, Still Life with porcelain Bowl and Nautilus Cup, 1660, oil on canvas, 64.1 × 55.9 cm, Museo Nacional ThyssenBornemisza, Madrid (no. 202-1930.37). © Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid

While shells, nautiluses, corals, coconuts, and horns of various kinds were sources of wonder, the silver and gold mounts themselves also commanded admiration for the technical skills and stylistic ingenuity of contemporary goldsmiths (fig. 2). The marine themes presented on the mounts of the nautilus shells for instance (cat. nos 7-8), provided iconographic programmes related to the nature of the material used. Even though the economic value of silver and gold very often led to the melting down and reuse of gold and silverware, the uniqueness, virtuosity and magical properties of mounted “exotic” objects ensured their endurance across time.

1 Pernicka, Rehren and Schmitt-Strecker 1998, p. 123.

2 Melis 2014, p. 490, Bachmann 2006, p. 35.

3 Bachmann 2006, p. 17.

4 Lopez 2009, p. 76.

5 Glanville 1996, p. 19.

6 Cross 1983, p. 397; Flynn and Giráldez, pp. 201-21.

7 Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 33.

8 Weinhold 2004; Splendour and Power 2011, pp. 139-83.

9 Kjellberg 2000, p. 30. See Lindsay Macnaughton’s essay in this volume.

Fig. 1. Byzantine reliquary cross, tenth century, cloisonné enamel and gold, h. 6.12 cm, British Museum, London (no. 1965,0604.1)

ROCK CRYSTAL

Kelsey Weeks

As a typical feature of European Kunst- and Wunderkammer during the Renaissance and baroque periods, luxury rock crystal objects combine the genius of human craft with the wonder of nature to reflect the sophisticated taste and education of the collector. Intrinsic to the story of rock crystal is its association with the divine and its perceived ability to inhabit both ‘the known and the unknown, the natural and the supernatural, the visible and the intangible’.1 Historically, rock crystal was used by priests to promote faith and purity, by magicians to ward off evil spirits, and by doctors as medical tools. Studied by scientists, it was also a hardstone that craftsmen favoured, and the Church considered it to be pure enough for storing and presenting the relics of saints. For these reasons, rock crystal was obsessively collected as a luxury good in the royal and imperial courts of Europe in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Historian and naturalist, Pliny the Elder (AD 23/2479) first believed rock crystal to be a form of permanent ice and, according to Greek etymology, the word “crystal” means to congeal with frost.2 Later, Medieval Islamic scholars believed the material to be composed of air and light, both elements directly associated with the Divine.3 Though presenting as a mysterious and rare material, rock crystal’s mineralogical composition indicates it belongs to the quartz group. It is globally accessible, often found in high mountain streams and mines within mountain caves.4 In Europe, crystal was mined in the Swiss alps, the Black Forest, and the SaarNahe region among other places.5

As early as the sixth century BC, the cultural centers of Mesopotamia and the Eastern Mediterranean acted as hubs for the development of rock crystal craftsmanship. Later, trade networks were developed between East Africa and the Himalayas, Sri Lanka, and South India, facilitating the transport of crystal from places like Madagascar, the Maldives and Kashmir to Abbasid Workshops in Baghdad and Samarra.6 During the Fatimid Dynasty (969-1171 CE), Egyptian-Fatimid workshops based in Madagascar were known for their refined manufacturing techniques (see the rock crystal phial featured in the Grandmont Reliquary, cat. no. 1).

From the thirteenth century onwards, European centers of the global gemstone trade and manufacture were established in the major seats of courts like Paris, Prague, and Nuremberg.

As trade networks developed between the Islamic world and Christian Europe in the Middle Ages and civilisation started to gravitate towards cities, the market for rock crystal objects grew to include the wealthy as well as the royal.7 Despite its global accessibility made possible by these sophisticated trade routes, crystal was considered a luxury material and sought after by skilled stonecutters who trained (in some cases for up to eight years) in order to execute the complex techniques required to masterfully design luxury rock crystal objects.8 As a durable material, rock crystal could maintain sharp edges of carved decoration and withstand consistent use. These properties meant that crystal was widely used for amulets, seals and belt buckles (see fig. 1). It was also cool to the touch, making it a preferred choice for ewers and serving dishes (see fig. 2).9

Often fueled by the spoils of war, royal Kunstkammer enthusiasts like Emperor Rudolf II (1552-1612) in Prague, or Elector Augustus of Saxony (15261586) in Dresden sought to showcase their imperial reach, scientific knowledge, and the genius of human craftsmanship by collecting rare and precious objects.12 Reliquaries and objects once held in monastic or Catholic treasuries found new homes in the cabinets of Kings and Princes.

Whether collectors considered themselves to be spiritual or not, crystal’s place as a magical material in the heart of the Kunstkammer remains significant. As a shrine to taste, knowledge and wonder, the cabinet of curiosities functioned as a new kind of altar, creating an opportunity for the beholder to clearly see and to know.13 Though we now know the material is not composed of light and air, nor a permanent form of ice, and that it will not crack upon contact with poisonous liquids, rock crystal fully embodies the aim of the Kunstkammer, sparking wonder in the viewer with its exquisite craftsmanship, global reach and the possibility of encountering the divine.

1 Magic Rock Crystal 2022, p. 34.

2 Princely Splendor 2004, p. 250.

3 Magic Rock Crystal 2022, p. 384.

4 Princely Splendor 2004, p 249.

5 Magic Rock Crystal 2022, p. 63; see pp. 63-69 for detailed trade maps.

6 Ibid., p. 66.

7 Ibid.

8 Ibid , p. 67.

9 Kornbluth 2009, p. 2.

10 Overbey 2014, p. 248.

11 Holly 2019, p. 163

12 Princely Splendor 2004, pp. 250-3; Splendour and Power 2011, pp. 185-217.

13 See Anne-Marie Bannister’s essay in this volume.

During the Middle Ages, a culture of visuality flourished and the faithful often used objects and images to evoke or even encounter the divine.10 Crystals suggested the possibility for the beholder to see God, permeating space and time in what historian Michael Ann Holly refers to as the ‘meeting of matter and imagination’.11

With the advent of the Protestant Reformation in the early sixteenth century, the Church’s Medieval unity was broken and religious schisms served as catalysts for both wars of religion and as competition between royal collectors.

Fig. 1. East German (buckle), Byzantine (tongue), Rock Crystal Belt Buckle, c. 500 (buckle), 500–600 (tongue), rock crystal, 4.5 × 4 cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (no. 1995.54)

Fig. 2. Sarracchi Brothers (rock crystal), probably Reinhold Vasters (mounts), Bowl with Mounts, third quarter of the sixteenth century, rock crystal, enamelled gold, w. 22.9 cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (no. 1974.28.108)

IVORY

Sophia Selby

Ivory has long been a desired and popular material for artistic expression. Particularly admired in Renaissance and Baroque princely collections of Europe, the influence of the art of antiquity and the intense fascination with “exotic” natural materials from faraway lands resulted in the creation of innovative ivory artworks.

Although the tusks and teeth of mammoths, walruses, wild boars, hippopotami, and sperm whales can be transformed into objects of both practical and aesthetic use, the most common and desired form of ivory, sometimes referred to as “true ivory”, comes from the tusk of elephants. These continue to grow throughout the animal’s life, up to three meters in length, and provide considerably more material than the ivory of smaller animals. The composition of elephant ivory is also considered superior due to its density, consistency of colour and strength that compares to amber, jet and pure gold, making it the most versatile, highly valued and expensive of all ivories.1

Evidence of the use of ivory dates back at least thirtyfive thousand years.2 A prized artistic material already valued in antiquity, during the Middle Ages ivory was mainly used for objects of religious or imperial significance, such as book covers, diptychs, reliquary caskets and small sculptures. The Renaissance marked a shift in the production of secular artworks created by artists attached to the court rather than the Church. Artists and collectors alike were fascinated by the artistic possibilities of rare, “exotic” and beautiful materials. Fifteenth-century voyages to Africa by the Portuguese paved the way for agents of European powers to access materials from distant lands.3 The so-called Age of Exploration forged new trade networks to the Americas, Africa and Asia, increasing the availability and demand for ivory and other rare natural materials. European collectors used their resources to capture, contain, and transform these marvels of nature creating and coveting unique artworks composed of naturalia, the creations of God, with artificialia, the creations of man.4

The ivory objects housed in European Kunstkammer were mainly made from tusks imported whole and transformed by skilled court artisans into objects considered of great artistic and metaphorical value. Evidence of ivory’s importance can be found in the magnitude of items recorded in the inventories of European ruling families’ collections such as the Medici in Italy, the Habsburgs in Austria and the ruling Princes throughout the German-speaking countries.

Ivory lent itself to the virtuosity of the craftsman: fine detail could be carved into its surface and the colour and texture of the material enhanced the light and shadow created in three-dimensional imagery.5 To limit waste, the enormous elephant tusks were cut into sections according to the end product and transformed by master carvers into art pieces created explicitly for the Kunstkammer. 6 The tusk’s shape and size allowed it to be changed into a wide array of objects. Large display pieces such as tankards could be cut from the thicker base of the tusk (fig. 1, and cat. no. 4) and round or oval ornamental cups could maximise the depth of the surface from which to carve out relief figures.7 Created as showpieces rather than useful drinking vessels, these were often adorned with elaborate mounts of precious metal. The goldsmith’s work elevated the natural material further still, and it also served the practical purpose of reinforcing the more fragile and frequently handled edges of the object. Ivory could also be used to create small-scale sculptures that invited intimate appreciation. The purity of the nearly white material, closely resembling pale skin and bone, perfectly suited memento-mori skulls common in Renaissance and baroque collections.

The most popular of all ivory artworks in Kunstkammer collections were turned forms made from single blocks of ivory, which often retained and showcased the natural curve of the tusk (fig. 2). The manipulation and transformation of ivory was performed by carving and turning it on a mechanical lathe. The technical advancements of the lathe in the late sixteenth century allowed for better control and impressive results. Skilled artisans who had mastered using a lathe moved between the European courts, but the most productive workshops were based in Nuremberg and Dresden in Germany.8 Most Renaissance and baroque princely residences in Germany included a workshop with tools and equipment for turning and transforming ivory into art.9 The highly respected ivory craftsmen taught their patrons to perfect the art of turning ivory. Princely patrons, such as those in the Holy Roman Empire, sought to advertise their advanced learning through their collecting practices and, in the case of ivory, their own mastery of the precious material.10 The self-control, technical knowledge and mathematical precision involved in the process were all considered to be literal and metaphorical reflections of the qualities required for a ruler.11 This princely pursuit could also express a God-like control over nature.12

From the eighteenth century onwards, collecting ivory moved beyond the confines of the courts and the Church with demand reaching frenzied heights between the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.13 This appeal, coupled with improved mechanical lathes and exploitative labour, greatly impacted both the elephant and human populations of the African continent. Colonising powers pillaged tribal stocks, enforced human labour to transport the heavy tusks, and destroyed elephants’ natural habitat.14 Despite an international ban on the trade of endangered species since 1989, the illegal trade of ivory still exists, thus tainting its appearance of purity.

1 Campbell Pedersen 2015, p. 44.

2 Chaiklin 2010, p. 535.

3 Ibid., p. 538.

4 Randall 1985, p. 242.

5 Trusted 2013, p. XXXI.

6 Campbell Pedersen 2015, p. 137.

7 Clerbois 2011, p. 240.

8 Kappel 2004; Campbell Pedersen 2015, p. 144; Andrews 2019.

9 Scheicher 1979, p. 23.

10 Koeppe 2019, p. 20.

11 Ibid.

12 MacGregor 2007, p. 43.

13 Campbell Pedersen 2015, p. 209.

14 Chaiklin 2010, p. 539.

Fig. 1. Bernhard Straus and Andreas Wickert, Tankard with Silenus and Bacchic Revels, 1651, ivory & silver gilt, 46.5 × 29.2 cm, Victoria & Albert Museum, London (no. 4529-1858)

Fig. 2. Possibly from the workshop of the Zick family in Nuremberg, Standing Cup, seventeenth century, ivory, 35.6 × 12.7 cm, Metropolitan Museum, New York (no. 10.212.2a, b)

COCONUT

Laetitia Chardon

Coconuts, once referred to as ‘India nuts’, are the fruit of the cocoa palm tree, which is native to the Pacific. They have been known in Europe since the eighth century but were not routinely mounted in silver and gold until the thirteenth.1 At first, they were used most often as reliquaries but gradually they were turned into cups and other such drinking vessels due to the belief in the poison-detecting properties of the material. From the seventeenth century, the material gradually fell out of favour as the world opened up and coconut was no longer considered as exotic as it had once been.2

Originally imported from the south-western coast of the Indian subcontinent by Arab and Jewish traders, in late medieval times coconuts arrived in Europe from Africa through Venice and from Portuguese colonies in India and the Seychelles via Lisbon. The discovery of the Americas in the fifteenth century led to a marked increase in transatlantic journeys and trade, which in turn resulted in a vast increase in available coconuts.

The earliest recorded example of a coconut reliquary appears in the 1255 inventory of the cathedral of Angers, France, and is reported to have contained a little reed belonging to Saint Bartholomew, who travelled to and preached in India. It would therefore seem that, in this case, the relic was sought to be reflected in the exotic material of the reliquary, or vice versa. There are only seven known extant examples of coconut reliquaries, including an early one with a lid featuring a lamb made from rock crystal, now in Münster Cathedral.3

Coconuts then entered the world of the Renaissance Kunst- and Wunderkammer (figs 1-2). As a mysterious and exotic material, coconut was ideal for princely collections: the rarer the natural specimen (or naturalia), the more valuable the object was considered, even in comparison to precious metals.4 As a prime example of “exotic” materials (or exotica) brought to Europe through long and dangerous ocean voyages, coconut also evoked the lands from which it came, bringing its owner closer to realms they would never see in person.5

Coconut was easy to turn and so its transformation into cups, for example, was a relatively simple procedure, while its shape and imperviousness lent themselves well to this purpose, although it was often also lined with resin or silver.6 The most complex part of the process was the carving, which turned the somewhat humblelooking coconut into an objet d’art, symbolising man’s

ability to rival, and perhaps even supersede, God’s ability of creation.7 Very often, naturalia specimens were further enhanced with the addition of man-made mounts worked by expert craftsmen in order to make them even more precious and marvellous.

Furthermore, in a world filled with political intrigue, unreliable alliances and underhanded tactics, poisoning was a particular concern. For this reason, many Kunstkammer objects were made with materials believed to be imbued with the ability to either detect or disactivate poison.8 Coconut was one such material, and it was believed to have had medicinal properties in Arabic cultures and Europe.9 Coconuts turned into drinking vessels that could detect poison were desirable and valuable possessions indeed.

These cups could come with more or less decoration. Carving and varnishing were used to create the impression of different textures. In the fairly elaborate example on display in this exhibition, the surface of the coconut has been carved to take on the appearance of wings (see cat. no. 5). Four further mounted coconuts can be found in the Schroder collection; a highly carved cup, two plain cups and a carved jug.10

The centres of production for such items were found in Northern Europe, in particular the German-speaking countries. The sheer volume of coconut cups which have survived until today is testament to their popularity and value, and also to their sturdiness. They can be seen in museums from the Metropolitan Museum in New York, to the Grünes Gewölbe in Dresden:11 the Victoria & Albert Museum in London alone has more than fifteen examples. Their intricate and splendid workmanship powerfully evokes the sense of wonder that these objects must have provoked in their owners and their select guests.

1 See Constance Booker’s essay in this catalogue.

2 Stark 2003/4, p. 93.

3 Cordez 2020, pp. 139-41.

4 Koeppe 2004, p. 81.

5 Kenseth 1991a, p. 91.

6 Tankard – Victoria & Albert Museum: https://collections.vam. ac.uk/item/O117967/tankard-unknown [accessed 07-02-2023].

7 Kenseth 1991b, p. 38.

8 Kenseth 1991a, p. 88.

9 Mammarella and Navach 2006, p. 196.

10 Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 114-23.

11 Princely Splendor 2004, pp. 237-8, nos 121-2.

Fig. 1. Hans van Amsterdam, Coconut Cup with Cover, 1533-4, silver-gilt and coconut, h. 27.6 cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (no. 17.190.622a, b)

Fig. 2. Johannes Fridericus Benedick, Coconut Cup c. 1650, silvergilt, coconut and turquoise, h. 18.3 cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (no. 2010.110.82)

HORN

Victoria Comstock-Kershaw

The earliest known depiction of an animal horn used as a drinking vessel dates to the Upper Palaeolithic. A bas-relief depicting a woman known as the “Venus of Laussel” drinking from the horn of an animal was discovered in 1911 in South-Western France and is twenty-five thousand years old. The first written description of a drinking horn was inscribed on a stone slab by the Assyrian ruler Sargon II in 714 BC, telling the god Assur that among the spoils captured in the course of a military campaign there were ‘two horns of large wild bulls bound in gold, having golden hoops around the rim’.1 In Early Modern Europe, drinking horns were a symbol of wealth and shared sustenance: Elizabeth I was known to drink from a “unicorn” horn.2

Drinking vessels, however, have not been the only historical use of horn as a material. It is difficult to know exactly how horn was manipulated before the Middle Ages, as its degradable nature has left many early examples lost to time. This is especially true of Roman and African burial and battle sites, where surviving cups, circlets and sword hilts with empty divots and windows were probably designed to hold flattened sections of horn, bone, leather, or some other organic material that has long since decomposed.3 Miniature Chinese horn carvings from the Ming and Qing Dynasty (fourteenth to twentieth century AD) have been found in royal tombs with their accompanying stone tools, and are perhaps the oldest and best-preserved examples of the art form.4

The semi-flexible, easily carvable and visually diverse nature of the material makes it an ideal medium for jewellery and other decorative purposes. Made from the natural protein keratin, horn bends easily when heat and pressure are applied, behaving similarly to modern synthetic thermoplastics. As such, it is an appropriate medium for a type of relief work called “pressed horn”, popularised in the late fourteenth century by European tanners and bottle makers.5 Various patterns and coats of arms could be achieved with the same tools and pressing techniques used for leather and glass. This practice of pressed horn spread rapidly, and by the seventeenth century horns were being used as moulds as well substratums (fig. 1).6 By the nineteenth century the “exotic” visual and cultural appeal of horn made it a widespread choice in the production of anything from military buttons and ladies’ fans to household door handles.7

Cultural signifiers also influenced the widespread use of horn. The seventeenth-century associations of masculine virility with animals like stags and bulls meant that bejewelled horns were often sold as talismans against cuckoldry.8 The appeal of mythical horned beasts also encouraged the international spread of the material: “alicorns”, often claimed to have been acquired from the capture and slaughter of the elusive unicorn, were sold to European explorers and collectors for medicinal purposes.9 Narwhal horns inundated sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Wunderkammer as objects of curiosity and fascination (fig. 2), including the collections of Lorenzo di Medici and of King Francis I of France (gifted to him by Pope Clement VII). Christian V of Denmark’s throne was made with spiralling legs and spokes said to be made of unicorn horn, and unicorn drinking horns were rumoured to detect poison and were presented as gifts to royalty.10 These items were usually polished walrus tusks or, in the case of Christian V’s throne, simply narwhal teeth.

Throughout Europe, horns of different kinds and origins were proudly displayed in cabinets and collections as proof of the owner’s wealth and worldly travels, and as examples of natural and man-made beauty.

1 Vlassova 2001, p. 71.

2 Robertson 1926, p. 134.

3 Schaverien 2006, p. 17.

4 Sax 2004, p. 13.

5 Schaverien 2002, p. 14.

6 Schaverien 1998, pp. 72-9.

7 Morgan 2012.

8 McEachern 2008, pp. 607-31.

9 Robertson 1926, p. 137.

10 Stark 2003/4, p. 71.

Fig. 1. Top: Iohann Osborn, Pressed Horn Medallions with Portrait Busts of Amelia, Princess of Orange and Frederick Henry, Prince of Orange, 1626, 16.10 × 11.10 cm, British Museum, London (nos 1889,0706.1-2). © The Trustees of the British Museum

Fig. 2. Bottom: Unicorn and Narwhal Horns, in Michael Bernhard Valentini, Museum museorum, oder, Vollstandige Schau-Buhne aller Materialien und Specereyen..., Frankfurt am Mayn, 1704, p. 481, woodcut, British Library, London

SHELL - NAUTILUS

Clementine Edney

The dawn of the seventeenth century saw a momentous expansion of global trade. With the formation and growth of companies such as the English East India Company in 1600 and the Dutch East India Company in 1602, a greater variety of worldwide produce reached European shores.1 Generating immense wealth for the western nations, the new trading routes also stimulated the desire for exotica within the curiosity cabinet or the European Kunst- and Wunderkammer. Hailing from the Southern Pacific Ocean, the chambered nautilus was found mainly within Dutch trading territories and their popularity within the Wunderkammer is closely linked with the Dutch monopoly of the South-East Asian market.2 The variegated tones and fascinating forms of the nautilus summarised the wonder of these newly discovered lands in a single object

However, shells were not a newcomer to European collections and interiors. Having been prized for centuries for their pearly iridescence, it was not uncommon to find whole shells used as decorative features in Predynastic Egypt and prehistoric Europe.3 In the West, shells were commonly featured for a variety of decorative purposes. Predominantly inlaid in jewellery or on the exterior of boxes, the full spiral form of nautiluses did not enjoy sole attention until it appeared in the Wunderkammer in the sixteenth century.4 For the native people in the region of Melanesia in the Pacific, the nautilus was traditionally used with turtle shells on forehead pieces known as a kap-kap, the contrast in tones and texture being particularly attractive.5 In the Solomon Islands, shell inlay provided a unique detailing to canoes and figure carvings.6 As well as its decorative uses, the nautilus shell could also serve as a drinking vessel in its organic state. However, when it reached the Wunderkammer, the nautilus shell could be heavily adapted to satisfy this new European clientele.

Resembling an octopus in both its appearance and nature, the nautilus lives at great depths within the ocean. Its bright white shell and orange stripes camouflaged it against the corals below (fig. 1).7 When these shells were harvested, they would be stripped of their outer protective layer. Using a process of pickling in acid and then scraping, the top layer would be removed to reveal a mother-of-pearl gleam below. This work, often performed by enslaved locals, shines light on the colonial power associated with the shell industry.8 Referred to as dienaers or ‘servants’ in Dutch, this population of slave labourers rose progressively to meet the demand for overseas goods.9

As the market for the nautilus grew, so did the need for workers to collect and prepare the shells. Although an object of immense natural beauty, these ornate shells epitomise the darker side of exotica collections.

After it had been polished, the shell would be intricately carved in very low relief, a tradition associated with Chinese workshops that, towards the end of the sixteenth century, increasingly began creating their carved shell designs with the European market in mind.10 However, as noted by Hans-Ulrich Mette, European imitations of Chinese craftsmanship began to rise in the late sixteenth century in response to this influx of pre-carved nautilus shells. As a result, many engraved nautilus cups are a mixture of either genuine Chinese craftmanship or European interpretations of East Asian motifs.11

Engraving was not the only adaptation to the shell’s organic form. When imported to Europe, precious metal mounts were added to the shell. Another product of global trade, silver was mined predominantly in Europe, although large quantities were also imported from Japan.12 Through this artistic marriage between natural and raw materials from around the world, the shell became a metaphor for the integration of exotic beauty and European craft; a decorative uniting of East and West. This also meant the humble shell’s status would rise in the eyes of the European collector. It was now not solely viewed as an object of natural beauty, but one united with human craftsmanship in a display of ultimate decorative hybridity.13

With the flourishing of wealth in the Dutch Republic in the seventeenth century, the burgeoning burgher class became increasingly interested in the idea of a personal Wunderkammer, a typology of collection formally reserved for royalty.

The nautilus cup operated as the ideal initial object as, through its integration of artificialia and naturalia, it expressed everything that a curiosity cabinet represented. With this merging of the natural and the manufactured within the cup, the cabinet, with the nautilus at its centre, aimed to be a microcosmic expression of the macrocosm.14

In terms of motifs featured within the nautilus cup designs, each European workshop had its own unique style. The German tradition saw the natural form of the nautilus take a backseat as it was transformed into other animals (fig. 2).

The addition of metal mounts created limitless options: the nautilus could become anything from the shell of a snail to the abdomen of a crane.15 In contrast, in the Netherlands the shell was considered the showpiece and was never outperformed by ornate mounts. The precious mounts served to enhance the natural qualities of the spiralled form rather than conceal them. They elevated the shell off the ground, so that its full body could be displayed. In addition, its primary function as a drinking vessel saw the nautilus shell have both a practical and decorative use.16 Often these regional preferences did overlap as can be seen in the two nautilus cups from the Schroder collection on display in this exhibition, from Delft and Nuremberg respectively

As the popularity of the Wunderkammer continued to grow well into the seventeenth century, these shells enjoyed even greater precedence. The “exotic” origins of shells were celebrated, while their proportions were thought to symbolise the mathematical formula of all God’s creations.17 As it grows in size to maturity, the chambered nautilus forms a logarithmic spiral, a pattern which also features in many plants such as sunflowers, and in spiral galaxies.18 Just like the dried flowers and astrological tools on display in the curiosity cabinet, the nautilus highlighted the mathematical harmony of the universe on a smaller scale.

1 Bass 2021, p. 7.

2 Kehoe 2011, p. 276.

3 Pole 2009, p. 2.

4 Ritchie 1974, p. 37.

5 Pole 2009, p. 2.

6 Ibid

7 Pole 2009, p. 2.

8 Bass 2021, p. 6.

9 Ibid

10 Tait 1991, p. 82.

11 Mette 1995, pp. 83-4.

12 Gerritsen 2016, p. 230. See also Constance Booker’s essay in this volume.

13 Kehoe 2011, p. 277.

14 Ibid., p. 279.

15 Ibid., p. 278.

16 Ibid

17 Flatt 1998, p. 120.

18 Ibid

Fig. 1. Chambered Nautilus

Fig. 2. Jeremias Ritter, Nautilus Cup, c. 1630, silver-gilt and shell, Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Gift of J. Pierpont Morgan (no. 1917.260)

CHINESE PORCELAIN

Lindsay Macnaughton

Porcelain was first produced in Northern China in the sixth century AD. It contains chalky white kaolin clay and a harder greyish-white stone (petuntse), and both of these natural materials are found in deposits around the world. To produce objects in porcelain, potters combine the two materials, shaping the mixture either by hand, in moulds or on a wheel. After air-drying, the pieces can be decorated and then coated in a liquid glaze.1 In the case of cats. nos 9 and 10, cobalt was applied with a brush under the glaze. Cobalt came to China from Persia in the fourteenth century and was known as ‘Mahomeddan blue’, but locally-sourced cobalt could also be used.2 After applying the glaze, the clay forms are then fired in a kiln at a temperature higher than 1000 degrees Celsius to become a durable and translucent material. Further decoration can be added over the glaze and set onto the surface in a muffle-kiln at a lower temperature.

Marco Polo’s account of the material culture of Yuan China in the thirteenth century gives an extraordinary account of porcelain, its ingredients and its methods of production, which were shrouded in mystery.3 The porcelain creations and their creators filled European explorers and missionaries with a sense of wonder and amazement.4 Although it was commonplace in China, and also known in Persia as seen in late fourteenthcentury manuscripts,5 in Europe porcelain was a totally new and unknown type of ceramic, imported from faraway. The exceptional value of porcelain made it suitable for presentation to God, as seen in paintings such as a Madonna and Child by Francesco Benaglio (late 1460s) and Andrea Mantegna’s Adoration of the Magi (c. 1495-1505).6 Bellini’s Feast of the Gods (1514), painted for the Camerini of Duke Alfonso d’Este of Ferrara, shows several large Chinese blue and white porcelain bowls being used (fig. 1). Very few people would have seen examples of Chinese porcelains at this time. It was a sought-after material, prized for its rarity, for the fact that it came from far East Asia, and for its mysterious properties. Indeed, it was thought to protect its owner by reacting upon contact with poisonous liquids. Porcelain conveyed power and prestige and was considered a luxury product suitable for diplomatic gifts. Much of the porcelain found in Italian courtly collections, such as in those of Lorenzo de’ Medici or Eleonora d’Aragona, Duchess of Ferrara, arrived through trade routes and diplomacy.

At first, when Chinese porcelain came to Europe in such small quantities, the simple shapes were often set

in mounts made of precious metal. This process was thought to enhance the visual and material allure of the objects.7 Iznik wares, made in Turkey from firing white clays and crushed quartzes, were also prized at this time and often given English mounts too.8 Both examples of porcelain in this exhibition are Chinese, from the Wanli era. Wanli is the name given to the emperors (Guangzong) of the Ming period (1368-1644). Wanli porcelain is characterised by cobalt blue underglaze decoration, sometimes with overglaze decoration in enamel paints. The vast majority of Chinese porcelain made for the export market is thought to have come from the city of Jingdezhen. Portugal dominated the Chinese porcelain trade at the beginning of the sixteenth century: from 1513, Portuguese merchants accessed porcelain via the Chinese port of Canton (Guangzhou). When the Dutch East India Company was founded a century later, they monopolised the trade (fig. 2): the Dutch referred to the Ming era blue and white objects as kraak porcelain because the Portuguese caracca ships had first transported it overseas.9

By the sixteenth century, porcelain featured in the cabinets of curiosities of most princely collections: Chinese porcelain is an example of this obsession with rare and “exotic” materials – meaning materials nonnative to Europe – and crafted objects. For instance, ceramics filled one of the eighteen chests of the great Kunstkammer of Archduke Ferdinand of Tyrol at Schloss Ambras near Innsbruck.10

Fig. 2. Willem Kalf, Still Life with a Porcelain Vase, Silver-gilt Ewer, and Glasses, c. 1643-1644, oil on canvas, 55.56 × 44.45 cm, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, gift of Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Edward William Carter (no. M.2009.106.22)

The collection of Amalia van Solms in the Royal palace Huis ten Bosch in the Hague helps us to observe the shift from displaying Chinese porcelain in isolation as curious items in a collector’s cabinet to larger displays of groups of porcelains in specially-designed rooms.11

By the seventeenth century, Chinese porcelains were still very rare in England, and were displayed as luxury items in the homes of the learned elite and aristocracy, in dedicated porcelain rooms or in cabinets alongside other “exotica” or curiosities, such as in the collection of the botanist John Tradescant the Younger.12 European families were by no means the first to collect Chinese porcelain. Porcelain had featured in the collections of Middle-Eastern princes for centuries, with Chinese porcelains circulating westward on land through Persian and Safavid intermediaries, as well as by sea routes.13 The first porcelain rooms date back to the fifteenth century with the Timurid ruler Ulugh Beg, and later in Mughal India in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and in Safavid Iran.14

The rare value of porcelain added to the sense of wonder that it provoked. It was a material so prized by early modern collectors that they referred to it as “white gold”. The composition of porcelain sparked debates, alchemical experiments and competition across the kingdoms of Europe until the beginning of the eighteenth century.

The quest for understanding how Chinese porcelain was made was typical of the early modern period’s thirst for knowledge and its desire to make sense of the world. The growing understanding of ceramic technology coincided with regular shipments of Chinese ceramics that were reaching Europe by the thousands at the end of the seventeenth century. The first European factory to produce true porcelain was established at Meissen in modern-day Germany in 1710, thereby marking the end of the thousand-year-long monopoly of the production of porcelain by the Chinese.

By the eighteenth century, Chinese porcelain wares had become familiar domestic objects in Europe as well as in colonised territories. Porcelain was connected to the market for tropical products from other continents, such as sugar and coffee that depended on the violent commodification of enslaved Africans in the Atlantic World. It facilitated the trade of another Asian import, tea, a profitable commodity at first reserved for the European elites and much more widely accessible by the mid-eighteenth century.15 While many of these imports were consumed in Europe, others were traded for enslaved people off the coast of West Africa. Porcelain was part of the triangle trade of foreign goods and enslaved people on which the expansion of European empires depended. African captives were forced to work on plantations, thus fuelling a market for goods –including Chinese porcelain – that disregarded the cost of human life and relied on the brutal exploitation of labour and resources.16

1 Greenhalgh 2020, pp. 18-20.

2 Ibid., p. 209.

3 Gerritsen and McDowall 2012, p. 92.

4 Ibid., p. 94.

5 Gerritsen 2020, pp. 120-4.

6 Ibid., pp. 131-3.

7 See Constance Booker’s essay in this catalogue.

8 Pierson 2007.

9 Martin 2022, p. 344.

10 Schlosser 2021, pp. 104-32, the ceramics chest described at pp. 131-2.

11 Treanor 2014, p. 146.

12 Pierson 2012, p. 18; Impey 1977, pp. 58-9.

13 Martin 2022, p. 346.

14 Ibid., p. 345.

15 Pierson 2019, pp. 283-4.

16 Kwass 2022, pp. 52-9, 64-9.

Fig. 1. Giovanni Bellini with later alterations by Titian, The Feast of the Gods, 1514/1529, oil on canvas 170.2 × 188 cm, National Gallery of Art, Washington, Widener Collection (no. 1942.9.1)

1.THE GRANDMONT RELIQUARY

Silver-gilt, enamel, gemstones and rock crystal Reliquary: probably Meuse-Rhine region, twelfth or early thirteenth century Rock crystal phial: probably Fatimid, tenth to eleventh century H.: 27.5 cm

Provenance Abbey of Grandmont (until 1790); church of ChâteauPonsac (Haute-Vienne); apparently sold c. 1900; Maximilian Goldschmidt-Rothschild, Frankfurt am Main; bought from J. & S. Goldschmidt, 24 January 1928 (£8,000)

Literature: Texier 1853; Texier 1857, cols. 851-3 and 894-900; Barbier de Montault 1887; Rupin 1890, pp. 487-96; Lamm 1930, pp. 203-4; Trésors des églises 1965, no. 362 (a copy); Favreau and Michaud 1978, pp. 98-101; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 2; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, Appendix I; Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 50-3, no. 2

The Grandmont Reliquary corresponds to that given in 1226 by the Abbey of St Sernin as a sign of alliance to the Abbey of Grandmont, which was famed for its treasury. This gift is noted as containing the relics of thirty-seven saints and these miniscule pieces are hidden under the gems. This information matches the detailed inscription on the base of the reliquary, according to which the piece contains remains of the Holy Cross, the Crown of Thorns, the Virgin Mary, St John the Baptist and many other saints, apostles and martyrs.

This reliquary is a quintessential example of a Kunstand Wunderkammer object, a perfect blend of the natural and the artificial, displaying both the marvels of Nature and the skill of craftsmanship.1 Assembled with materials and elements from different places and centuries, the Grandmont Reliquary showcases the type of work valued in curiosity cabinets.

Reliquaries featured prominently in medieval church treasuries, which then morphed into the princely Schatzkammer of Northern Europe. Both types of collections placed importance on the intrinsic value of the materials,2 seen here in the silver-gilt as well as the gems and rock crystal. Reliquaries had the additional quality of holding strong spiritual significance and, as they were often finely worked, they continued to be of interest to collectors throughout the centuries.

The carved rock crystal phial probably dates from the Egyptian Fatimid dynasty (909 - 1171), yet the chemical purity of the material means that it is impossible to date; the carving techniques and designs are the elements that help date the object.3 Rock crystal was prized for a number of reasons, including its protective properties and its ability to detect poison,4 and was therefore often used for drinking vessels (see cat. no. 2).

The rectangular phial seen here was originally designed for a different unknown purpose and was reworked in order to be integrated into the reliquary.5 Other similar reliquaries survive (fig. 1).

It was originally believed that the assembled piece was made in Limoges, near the abbey of Grandmont, but more recent research has shown that the Fatimid phial was more likely mounted into the silver-gilt reliquary in the Meuse-Rhine region, which was an important centre for rock crystal work in the twelfth century.6

It was subsequently readapted several times, but exactly when these changes were made remains unclear: according to inventory entries, it appeared much as it does today by the time it went to the church at ChâteauPonsac in 1790. Some changes were not intentional. For example, the remaining round corner tower visible at the base of the rock crystal phial was once one of four, but three have been lost to time.7

Fig. 1 Reliquary bottle, rock crystal phial, probably Fatimid, tenth to eleventh century; the mounts fourteenth century, h. 8.9 cm, British Museum, London (no. AF.3129). © The Trustees of the British Museum

The rock crystal phial is not the only element to predate the main part of the reliquary. The cloissonné enamels date from the eleventh century and an ancient Roman intaglio appears amongst the many stones on the base and above the knop. Gems and stones, both carved and uncarved, were an important component of curiosity cabinets in all their iterations – Lorenzo ‘il Magnifico’ de’ Medici had 127 in his collection, in addition to 63 vases made of hardstone,8 and it is known that François I also had an impressive collection of such vessels at Fontainebleau.9

1 MacGregor 2007, p. 47.

2 Ibid.

3 Kornbluth 2009.

4 Hayward 1976, p. 128. See also Kelsey Weeks’ essay in this catalogue.

5 Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 50-3, no. 2.

6 Kornbluth 2009.

7 Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 50-3, no. 2.

8 Gayford 2013, p. 68.

9 Raulet 1999, p. 109; Art of the Royal Court 2008.

Laetitia Chardon

2. EWER

Rock crystal mounted in silver-gilt Mounts marked: London, 1557-58; maker’s mark an anchor (unidentified) Rock crystal: probably Roman Case: possibly second half of nineteenth century; (probably wood construction), leather, lining fabric, metal hinge and fasteners H.: 26.4 cm

Provenance: (possibly) Robert Paston, 1st Earl of Yarmouth (16311683); (possibly) Sir William Paston, 2nd Earl of Yarmouth (16541732); (possibly) Horace Walpole (1717-1797), Strawberry Hill; sold 1842 at Strawberry Hill Sale, day 16, lot 8; acquired by Baroness Anselm de Rothschild (1807-1859), Frankfurt, £50.8.0; purchased from Crichton Brothers, 1925, March 5 (£3,500); Schroder Collection

Literature: Elizabethan Art 1926, p. 66, no 4 (pl. XXVII); Watts 1927a, p. 252; Jones 1928, p. 108 (pl. 31-2); British Art 1934, no. 1431; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 64; Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 202, no. 67; Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, p. 313, no. 154; Paston Treasure 2018, p. 436, no. 136

Collecting objects for display in Renaissance and Baroque Kunst- and Wunderkammer relied heavily on information found in ancient Greek and Roman literature.1 In the most famous encyclopaedia of the ancient world, Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis Historia (‘The Natural History’), rock crystal was considered the most valuable and expensive of the precious hardstones, and long sections were devoted to the discussion of its origins, extraction properties and carving techniques.2

Rock crystal, when polished, reflects the light and its translucency, clarity, purity and total lack of flaws led to its association with imperial splendour and power in medieval and Renaissance times.3 Vessels made of rock crystal, often mounted in gold or silver-gilt, were therefore popular objects to display in noble and princely cabinets and treasuries. In his Kunstkammer at Schloss Ambras, Innsbruck, Archduke Ferdinand II of Tyrol (1529-1595) displayed his diverse encyclopaedic collection broadly in accordance with Pliny’s texts. Rock crystal vessels, which were amongst his most treasured possessions, including ewers, were displayed on shelves in the most important cabinets. He kept a personal copy of the Naturalis Historia in his library.4

This ewer of rock crystal mounted in silver-gilt, most probably once in the collection of Horace Walpole at Strawberry Hill, exemplifies the wonders of nature (naturalia) and the technical achievements of the goldsmith (artificialia). The ewer’s rock crystal body is of an earlier date than the mounts. Its origins and date are under discussion.5 Previous scholarship had suggested a possible Sassanian, late antique or early medieval date.

Research is ongoing, and the initial assessment suggests the rock crystal is probably Roman, although specific dating, information on the workshop and on how and when it came to England is as yet to be ascertained. The carved rouletting decoration on the body is of a later date, possibly seventeenth or eighteenth century.

The London assay mark dates the silver-gilt mounts firmly to 1557-1558, but because the goldsmith’s mark, an anchor, has not been recorded, the goldsmith is unknown. The mount on the foot covers another mount of an earlier date. The decorative caryatid figures of the strapwork supporting the mounts are similar to those on the porcelain ewer in cat. no. 9. They have close parallels to designs of the royal goldsmith Affabel Partridge (active 1554-79),6 as well the Flemish engraver and printmaker Cornelis Willem Bos (1510-1566) and the Dutch architect Hans Vredeman de Vries (1527-1607), whose designs on Renaissance ornamental forms, such as cartouches and grotesques, circulated throughout Europe and England during this period, primarily by means of engravings.

Fig. 1. Protective leather box for the ewer, second half of the nineteenth century, leather, lining fabric, metal hinge and fasteners, h. 26.4 cm, Schroder Collection, London

The ewer has a protective leather box, probably from the mid nineteenth century, possibly commissioned by Baroness Anselm de Rothschild (1807-1859) after she acquired it (fig. 1). While it is heavily worn, it is plain and undecorated, which implies that it was used for safekeeping rather than as part of the object’s display.

There is a growing interest in the history of boxes for the preservation of Kunst- and Wunderkammer treasures. Custom-made and used to transport, protect and store objects, they were constructed of wood wrapped in leather, and were often stamped or elaborately decorated with gold leaf tooling, with fabric lining inside. A number of older cases dating from the seventeenth century survive, such as the group in the Museo del Prado, Madrid, made to protect luxury objects, including rock crystal drinking vessels, which belonged to Louis, the Grand Dauphin of France (1661-1711). Dr Juliet Carey, Senior Curator, Waddesdon Manor (The Rothschild Collections/National Trust), even suggests that cases such as these may have functioned as frameworks of display within Kunst- and Wunderkammer, thus highlighting the precious nature of their contents even further.

1 Impey and MacGregor 2001, p. 1.

2 Hahn 2022, p. 37; Smith 2022, p. 91.

3 Hahn 2022, p. 38.

4 Smith 2022, p. 91.

5 With thanks to Caterina Badan for providing me with the provisional report of the examination of the ewer by Professor Jeremy Johns and Dr Elise Morero of The Edmund de Unger Fatimid Rock Crystal Project at the University of Oxford, 2021.

6 Paston Treasure 2018, p. 436, no. 136 (T. Schroder).

Fiona Ricklow

3. TANKARD

Silver-gilt, filigree, glass (body) and rock crystal (finial) South Germany (probably Augsburg or Ulm), third quarter of the sixteenth century, the finial probably modern H.: 18.8 cm

Provenance: Baron Lionel de Rothschild, London; Baron Alfred de Rothschild, London; bought from J. & S. Goldschmidt, 28 January 1925 (£1700)

Literature: Special Exhibition 1862, no. 6121 (lent by Baron Lionel de Rothschild); Watts 1927b, pp. 10-14; Hernmarck 1977, p. 121; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 20; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, no. 20; Renaissance Silver 2007, no. 58

It was typical of items in a Kunst- and Wunderkammer to be objects that were admired rather than used, yet certain materials on this tankard recommend it for functional use rather than simply for display.1 On the lid of the tankard is a cone-shaped, rock crystal finial that, according to the lore of the sixteenth century, served more than a decorative purpose. Since rock crystal was believed to contain magical properties of protection against evil forces, it was commonly used in the designs of drinking vessels to detect a poisoned beverage. In the sixteenth century, inexplicable deaths were often attributed to poisoning, and a poison-detecting tankard would have been a valuable object to own.2 To ensure protection, this tankard was designed with not one, but two methods of poison detection; the second being the glass drum contained within the elaborate silver filigree body of the vessel. It was thought that upon contact with a poisoned liquid, the glass drum inside would crack and the rock crystal finial would discolour to alert the drinker.3 Glass, like rock crystal, was also admired as a curiosity because of its occult link to alchemy, so the combination of precious metal, glass and rock crystal would have made this a very desirable object of quality and wonder for a collector’s cabinet.4

The object on display is one of many produced at the time: another tankard of a nearly identical design known as the ‘Poison Cup’ was given to Clare College, Cambridge, by William Butler, who served as physician to James I (fig. 1).5 The fact that the ‘Poison Cup’ was in the possession of a royal physician may indicate the serious level of trust that even learned people put into the properties of supposedly magical materials. Today, the rock crystal finial on top of the Schroder tankard is a modern replacement, although the original finial on Clare College’s ‘Poison Cup’ reveals that this was a sixteenth-century design choice.

The provenance of the Schroder tankard cannot be traced as far back as Clare College’s ‘Poison Cup’, but it

is likely that they arrived in England at the same time, perhaps even together.

Tracing their provenance is also hindered by the fact that they are unmarked; however, there is a small group of tankards of the same design housed in various collections around the world, some of which are hallmarked (fig. 2). Intriguingly, all of the marked tankards of this type are topped with a metal finial rather than a rock crystal one, setting apart the ‘Poison Cup’ and the Schroder cup. The marks on the other tankards indicate that they were made in Southern Germany in Ulm.6 Silver dealers from these cities travelled throughout Europe to fairs, court ceremonies, or ecclesiastical events to sell their goods, and it is likely that these tankards made their way to England in the hands of a dealer.7

Some of the tankards have the mark of the goldsmiths Abraham Lotter I or Hans Harder, but without marks on the Schroder tankard it is impossible to determine the maker with certainty. This design was perhaps well known to various South German goldsmiths, or, as the tankards were purchased outside of Germany, could have been copied by other European goldsmiths eager to replicate this type of fantastic object.

Figure 1: Tankard known as the ‘Poison Cup’ c. 1560, Southern Germany (origin), maker unknown, silver-gilt, filigree, glass (body) and rock crystal (finial), Clare College, Cambridge

1 Daston and Park 1998, p. 68.

2 Hayward 1976, p. 128.

3 Works of Ancient and Mediaeval Art 1850, p. 4, no. 24.

4 Klein and Ward 1984, p. 87.

5 Boss 1977, p. 434.

6 Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 180.

7 Seelig 1995, p. 11.

Cross Nelson

4. LIDDED TANKARD

Silver and ivory

The ivory barrel: German, seventeenth century

The silver mounts: unmarked, supplied by George Wickes (16981761), London, 1739 H.: 29.5 cm

Diameter of the ivory barrel: 20.5 cm

Provenance Sir Robert Walpole (1676-1745), later 1st Earl of Orford, of Houghton Hall, Norfolk, purchased from George Wickes on 25 July 1739 for £32.7s; by descent to his son, Robert Walpole, 2nd Earl of Orford (1701-1751), of Houghton Hall, Norfolk; by descent to his son, George Walpole, 3rd Earl of Orford (17301791), of Houghton Hall, Norfolk; purchased with other silver from his estate for £519 by his uncle, Horace Walpole, 4th Earl of Orford (1717-1797), of Strawberry Hill, Twickenham, in 1792; George Robins, Strawberry Hill Sale, twenty-third day, 20 May 1842, lot 40, bought for £39.18s.0d, by Edward Stanley, 13th Earl of Derby K.G. (1775-1851), of Knowsley Hall; accepted in lieu of Inheritance tax by HM Government and allocated to Strawberry Hill, 2022

Literature: Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, p. 289, n. 67, fig. 310 (the silver mounts attributed to Paul de Lamerie); Hartop 2014 pp. 27-9

A frieze of putti, fauns eating grapes and bacchantes runs around the ivory drum. A coat of arms that has not yet been identified is carved under a basket full of fruits (fig. 1). The elaborate silver mount supplied to Prime Minister Robert Walpole by George Wickes, founder of the company that was to become Garrard & Co, is decorated with vine branches and barking hounds, while the lid is surmounted by a finial in the shape of a Saracen’s head with a Catherine wheel on the cap, as seen on Walpole’s coat of arms.

Fig. 1. Detail of the Lidded tankard showing an unidentified coat of arms

Robert Walpole (1676-1745), the de facto first Prime Minister of Great Britain, was a passionate collector of statuary and old master paintings. Towards the end of his life, he gathered most of his treasures at Houghton Hall, a splendid Palladian mansion furnished by the architect William Kent (1685-1748). The mansion was conceived to reflect the political and social power of the patron in the magnificence of the architecture, furnishings, and collections. Houghton also displayed a collection of silverware.1

The tankard examined here, however, is very different from the type of decorative plate usually commissioned by Robert Walpole,2 as it belongs to a category of objects usually found in continental collections, cabinet of curiosities, or Kunst- and Wunderkammer. The only other objects of similar taste to appear in Walpole’s inventories are an ‘agate casket adorned with silver’ and a ‘rock crystal cup’. It has been suggested that his son, Horace, might have played a role in commissioning the tankard. It was Horace Walpole who acquired the tankard for Strawberry Hill decades later (1792), and it certainly fits in with his taste for objects of an antiquarian and “exotic” nature.3

Lidded ivory tankards had been a popular form of drinking vessel across Northern Europe from the mid-sixteenth century.4 The mounts often presented elaborate ornaments, while the subjects carved on the ivory drums were frequently inspired by antique motifs that could easily be adapted for circular reliefs, such as tritons (sea gods), nereids (sea nymphs) or bacchanalian scenes, as in this case. Scenes with putti were also popular, recalling the work of the great Flemish sculptor François Duquesnoy. Despite their functional nature, these tankards were often intended for display purposes only.

In England the taste for these objects remained quite uncommon until the early nineteenth century. Exceptions include the example on display here and a pair of silver-gilt mounted vases, the bodies made from ivory tankard sleeves decorated with bacchanals, probably carved in Rome, and the mounts by the Huguenot silversmith David Willaume, who operated in London, dated to 1711 (fig. 2). Coincidentally, these two vases belonged to two close friends of Horace Walpole: Henrietta Howard, Countess of Suffolk (1689-1767), who lived not far from Strawberry Hill in Marble Hill, and the latter’s sister-in-law, Lady Elizabeth (Betty) Germain (1680-1769).

Figure 2: Tankard, 1550-1575, Ulm, Germany, maker’s mark of Hans Harder, silver-gilt, filigree, glass (body) and rock crystal (finial), h. 21.3 cm, Victoria and Albert Museum (no. LOAN:GILBERT.49-2008)

Later still they entered the collection of William Beckford, who, like Horace Walpole, had a marked interest in Schatzkammer or Kunst- and Wunderkammer objects that reflected the art of the goldsmith and the sculptor, as well as the virtuoso use of rare materials from faraway.5

1 Hartop 2014.

2 For example, Seal salver, London 1728-29, and Pair of three-light candelabra, London, 1731-32, both by Paul de Lamerie (Victoria and Albert Museum, respectively nos M.9-1956 and GILBERT.690:1 to 10-2008).

3 Hartop 2014, pp. 27-9.

4 See Sophia Selby’s essay in this catalogue and also Trusted 2013. 5 Beckford 2001, p. 376, no. 106; Hartop 2014, p. 29; British Museum Database: https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/ H_1969-0705-11-a [accessed 01-03-23].

Silvia Davoli

Fig. 2. Pair of vases, 1711, gilt silver and ivory, the ivory sleeves probably carved in Rome in the early eighteenth century by a member of the circle of Giovanni Battista Pozzo, the silver gilt mount made in London by David Willaume in 1711, h. 42.40 cm, British Museum, London (1969,0705.11.a). © Trustees of the British Museum

5. CUP IN THE FORM OF AN OWL

Silver, parcel-gilt and coconut shell Germany, dated 1556 H. 16.5 cm

Provenance: Purchased from Critchon Brothers, 5 January 1925 (£300)

Literature: Watts 1927b p. 6; Wirth 1968, pp. 50, 78; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 14; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, no. 11; Fritz 1983, no. 76 (pl. 40); Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 122-3, no. 39

Coconut cups were extremely popular among the sixteenth-century elite, and many found their way into cabinets of curiosities. The rounded form and malleability of coconut presented a variety of opportunities for artisans to create new and unusual objects that would excite collectors. Coconut was viewed as a rare and precious material that had magical and healing properties.

The belief that coconut would protect against poison dated as far back as the Middle Ages, which explains why coconut shells were often crafted into drinking vessels.

This particular cup has a body of polished coconut, with unpolished owl wings that rest on its silver feet and tail. The detachable owl head is engraved around the collar with an inscription and has been chased with plumage. A further inscription is engraved around the lip. This cup is part of a larger group, all of which bear the same date of 1556, and the same two inscriptions in Latin, ‘The word of the Lord endures for ever’, and ‘when all other flying creatures are in their nests, my flight is the best of all’.1

The shape and nature of this object lends itself to the Kunst- and Wunderkammer tradition. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries there was a great demand for decorative objects that demonstrated the artisan’s superior technical skill and triumph over natural materials.2 With the coconut shell transformed into an owl, complete with a silver head, this object demonstrates not only the wonders of nature and the technical achievements of the artisan, but also the intellect and culture of the owner. Cups formed as birds were popular in German-speaking countries: it has been suggested that owl cups in particular were presented as shooting prizes, and so displaying such an object in a Kunstkammer would celebrate the owner’s skills.3 The shape of the cup would also show its owner’s intellectual power, as the owl was often seen as a symbol of wisdom, and the traditional attribute of the goddess Minerva.

A similar coconut cup in the shape of a falcon is in the collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum in London and dates to about 1600 (fig. 1). The coconut shell has been carved with feathers and, like the owl coconut cup, it is also adorned with silver mounts. A small bloodstone amulet engraved with a scorpion is mounted on the breast of the bird, highlighting the belief in the healing and guarding properties of coconut. Both coconut and bloodstone were thought to protect against the effects of poison, and the image of the scorpion was thought to be an extra guarantee of drinking safely.4

Coconut was an exciting material that had the joint appeal of coming from afar and having magical healing properties. Artisans like those who created these cups were able to display their skills through carving into the coconut and adding glistening mounts to them. With the owl’s association with wisdom, and the coconut’s suggested ability to protect against poison, an owl coconut cup would have been the envy of any collector.

1 Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 122.

2 Kenseth 1991b, p. 46.

3 Princely Splendor 2004, p. 243, no. 127; Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 122.

4 Cup, c. 1600 – Victoria and Albert Museum: https://collections. vam.ac.uk/item/O157613/cup-samuel-kassborer/ [accessed 24-022023].

Isabella McDonald

Figure 1. Cup in the form of a falcon, c. 1600, Ulm, Germany, possibly Samuel or Hans Kässborer (active 1600–10), coconut shell, silver, parcel-gilt, bloodstone and carnelian, h. 22 cm, Victoria and Albert Museum, London (LOAN:GILBERT.61:1, 2-2008)

6. THE GARSENBUTTEL DRINKING HORN

Silver-gilt and buffalo horn North Germany (Braunschweig), c.1610 H. 33.4 cm / W. 34.4 cm

Provenance: Duke Wilhelm von Braunschweig-Luneburg (d. 1705); Georg Ludwig, Elector of Hanover (later George I of England); by descent to Ernst Augustus, Duke of Cumberland and King of Hanover; sold to Gluckselig, 13 July 1924; purchased from Critchon Brothers, 30 June 1925 (£6,600, with serpentine cup cat. 51)

Literature: Rosenberg 1922-8, no. 9493; Watts 1927b, pp. 92-5; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 40; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, no. 43; Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 209-11, no. 69

Drinking horns were very popular in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and many found their way into Kunst- and Wunderkammer. As the seventeenth century saw an increased preference for objects made from natural materials such as ivory, wax and horn, and an emphasis on curiosities that demonstrated ingenious craftsmanship, the materiality of horn leant itself to this tradition.1 Once removed from its bony core, buffalo or ox horn is hollow with only the tip being solid. This meant that it could be transformed into a drinking vessel with very little modification. Adorned with mounts made by skilled craftsmen, drinking horns became a familiar presence in European collections as proof of the cabinet owner’s worldly travels and wealth.

The Garsenbuttel drinking horn stands on a raised oval base that has been chased with grasshoppers, snails and reptiles. The stem of the horn takes the form of a griffin’s foot and leg, and the horn is mounted with silver-gilt hoops which terminate in a griffin’s head. A coat of arms is applied twice to the central hoop and there are two inscriptions, one around the lip mount and another around the base.2

The coat of arms is that of Garsenbuttel of Luneburg, and the inscription around the lip gives the drinking horn a voice: ‘I am known as a griffin’s claw. Herr Roidelfke von Garssenbuttel, knight, won me in the battle at Humburgk of 1307. Since 1307 I have remained with the heirs of Garssenbuttel...’.

The inscription on the base reads ‘Hartwitch van Garssenbuttel, my hope is in God, made me in the year 1610’. In medieval folklore, the claws of a griffin were especially valued as it was claimed that they could only be procured by a saint or ‘very holy man’ in exchange for curing the animal of a wound or sickness.3

This object would have been an heirloom of the Garsenbuttel family and would have held a great position in a Kunstkammer, as it displays a highly treasured “metamorphic” nature: it could be used as a drinking vessel while at the same time was a griffin claw that appeared to speak, as captured in the inscriptions.4 A similar drinking horn was part of the Waddesdon Bequest and is currently in the collection of the British Museum, London (fig. 1). Like the Garsenbuttel drinking horn this horn is mounted in silver-gilt and bears an inscription which directly addresses the viewer. Its stem and base are also very similar to the drinking horn in this exhibition.

Exceptional and one-of-a-kind items like these were the prizes of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century collections.

Two intricately and ingeniously wrought drinking horns were some of the most precious objects in the Museum Regium in Copenhagen,5 and other medieval drinking horns identified as griffins’ claws survive in Florence and Dresden.

1 Minney 2009.

2 Renaisance Silver 2007, p. 209.

3 Ibid.

4 Mirollo 1991, p. 62.

5 Kenseth 1991b, p. 42.

Isabella McDonald

Figure 1. Griffin Claw Cup 1541-83, Mainz, Germany, buffalo horn and silver-gilt mounts, h. 38.8 × w. 28 cm, British Museum, London (no. WB.102)

7. NAUTILUS CUP

Silver, parcel-gilt, and garnet South Netherlands (Delft), 1595 H. 28.6 cm

Provenance: (?) Featherstonehaugh family; purchased from Crichton Brothers, 5 January 1925 (£3,300)

Literature: Watts 1927b, p. 92; Marine Art 1929, no. 819; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 33; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, no. 33; Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 191-3, no. 63

Produced by a virtuoso artisan in Delft in 1595, this nautilus cup is a unique example of Netherlandish Mannerism. In its fusion of nature and artisan craftsmanship, it symbolises the European Kunstand Wunderkammer of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. With the advancement of foreign trade and exploration in the late sixteenth century, a greater variety of eastern naturalia became available for curious collectors.1 The chambered nautilus came from the Pacific and fascinated the beholder.2

Combined with its geometric precision, the nautilus shell played perfectly to the cultural desire for the marvellous and soon became a required piece in the European Wunderkammer. When carved and mounted in silver, it fused together nature and art, representing the divine and human creation in a single object.

Held up by a mermaid astride a sea monster, this piece has a clear nautical influence to its decoration.3 Although the nautilus shell on this model was replaced with a silver bowl when it broke, the ornamentation follows the standard maritime themes common to nautilus cups of this period. These relate not only to the shell’s former natural habitat, but also to the Renaissance fascination with themes and figures from classical antiquity. Carved in low relief on the silver bowl we can see a series of sea monsters swimming amongst the tempestuous waves, while the silver encasing forming the lip of the bowl is itself the opened mouth of a sea monster, lining the edge with its teeth. Inside, an uncut garnet tongue protrudes from within, as though the monster were in the midst of a fearsome roar. On his forehead stands a soldier and his hound. With his sword drawn and shield held up, the soldier is ready for battle. Enclosing the bowl in vertical bands are crayfish and a sea horse, inspired by a series of engravings produced by the Belgian sculptor, Cornelius Floris (1514-1575). Running along the outer side of the lip is the Latin inscription HOSPES MALORVM

CVM FERAM FONTES, TIBI COMMENDO

SEDVLO MODVM 1595, loosely translated as ‘Since in bearing liquids I harbour evils I urge on you care and restraint-1595’.4

This piece closely resembles a Delft nautilus cup once in the collection of the Paston family and then owned by Horace Walpole, who displayed it in the Great North Bedchamber at Strawberry Hill (fig. 1).5

1 Daston and Park 1998, p. 310.

2 Bass 2021, p. 6.

3 Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 192.

4 Ibid.

5 Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009, p. 312, no. 153; Zurowsky 2017; Paston Treasure 2018, pp. 286-9, no. 20.

Clementine Edney

Fig. 1. Nautilus Cup, 1592, Delft, attributed to Nicolaes de Grebber, silver gilt, nautilus shell, glass and enamel, 26.5 × 19.6 × 9.9 cm, Stedelijk Museum het Prinsenhof, Delft (no. PDZ3)

8. NAUTILUS CUP

Silver-gilt, nautilus shell and gemstones South Germany (Nuremberg), probably c.1580-90

The shell carved in China, the gemstone setting on the foot probably later

H.: 32.3 cm

Provenance: Purchased from S. J. Phillips, 12 October 1905 (£2,375)

Literature: Watts 1927b, p. 92; Jones 1928, p. 201; Hernmarck 1977, p. 112, no. 34; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, pp. 114-15, app. 10; Mette 1995, cat. 206, Renaissance Silver 2007, pp. 194-7, no. 64

Nautilus cups showcase the Wunderkammer’s desire to capture both man-made and natural beauty.1 The shell itself is engraved with a depiction of a military ceremonial procession, carved in China and transported to Europe by the third quarter of the sixteenth century.2 The mount on which it rests is silver-gilt, produced by Friedrich Hillebrandt, one of the most skilled Nuremberg goldsmiths of the late sixteenth century. The shell is upheld by a stem in the shape of the Greek god Apollo holding a lyre in one hand and a bow in the other. Above him a series of mermaids raise gemstones aloft as if figureheads at the hull of a ship. On top of the piece sits Jupiter straddling an eagle while clasping a globe in one hand and an arrow in the other (which was originally a thunderbolt). Finally, around the lip of the cup the metalwork depicts the planets Saturn, Mars, Venus, and Mercury along with the Sun and the Moon surrounded by the astrological signs ruled by them.

These planetary figures are copied from a set of engravings by the sixteenth-century Nuremberg designer, sculptor, and printmaker, Peter Flötner.3 The popularity of these themes are proof of an enduring interest in and influence of both astrology and pagan symbolism within sixteenth-and seventeenth-century European courts.4 Even though it had been forty years since Copernicus finally disproved the idea of a geocentric cosmos in De revolutionibus orbium coelestium (1543), the cultural power of outdated celestial concepts and ancient gods had clearly not lost its appeal.

It is no coincidence that so many of the cup’s elements contain such planetary themes. The nautilus shell, although just as admired for its natural beauty as its “exotic” quality, also appealed to collectors for its scientific value. The way in which the shell curls is an example of a naturally occurring logarithmic spiral, a mathematical sequence in which each number is the sum of the two previous numbers. By translating this sequence into rectangles in 1170, Leonardo Fibonacci would discover the ‘golden spiral’, also known as the Fibonacci sequence. Such an object would therefore satisfy multiple aspects of the Wunderkammer collecting practices, as an expression of natural beauty, scientific knowledge and craftsmanship.

1 See Clementine Edney’s essay in this catalogue.

2 Tait 1991, p. 82; Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 194.

3 Smith 1983, p. 225.

4 Brosseder 2005, pp. 559-61.

Victoria Comstock-Kershaw

Silver-gilt and porcelain

The porcelain: China, Wanli period (1573-1620)

The mounts: England, c.1590-1600 H.: 28.5cm

Provenance: Purchased from Crichton Brothers, 1924

Literature: Elizabethan Art 1926, case I, no. 4; Watts 1927a, p. 254 (illus. p. 249); Jones 1928, p. 107; Queen Charlotte’s Loan Exhibition 1929, no. 71; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 68; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, no. 35; Renaissance and Silver 2007, p. 198

Decorated with an underglaze cobalt blue scrolling foliage and dragon motif, this sliver-gilt mounted pearshaped ewer highlights both the wonder and the majesty of natural materials within the cabinet of curiosities or the Kunst- and Wunderkammer tradition. The porcelain part of this object dates to the Ming Dynasty during the Wanli period, when Chinese porcelain was increasingly produced for the European market. The silver-gilt mounts were instead made in England around 15901600. The silver-gilt ornamentation on porcelain during this time was a reflection of the value assigned to these objects by European collectors. Chinese and Japanese porcelain grew in popularity among the European princely elites and a “porcelain fever” took hold in the seventeenth century.1 The founding of the Dutch East India Company in 1602 and the increased desire for porcelain led to the establishment of an important Chinese porcelain export market across Europe.2 Porcelain was considered a rarity for its mysterious technique and material qualities.3 Kaolin, a fine white clay, was necessary to produce porcelains with the qualities of Chinese porcelain. Europeans did not experiment with this ingredient until the eighteenth century so until then, Chinese porcelain such as this ewer had to be imported into Europe. The popular blue and white style can be seen reproduced with tin-glazed earthenware across Europe during this period.

Porcelain’s connection to East Asian culture, including such luxury commodities as tea, spices, lacquerware, and textiles captured the imagination of seventeenth-century Europeans and fuelled their obsession with visualising faraway lands. As porcelain began to be shipped to Europe in much larger quantities from the seventeenth century onwards, a shift toward accumulation occurred in the cabinets of collectors. In the eighteenth century, the market for Chinese porcelain became closely linked to the rising sugar industry and the brutal enslavement of Africans in the Americas.4

Fig. 1. Bottle, Jingdezhen, China, probably Wanli period (c. 15401600), porcelain, h. 25.50 cm., British Museum, London (no. Franks. 1006.a). © The Trustees of the British Museum

Thanks to the addition of silver-gilt mounts, this object has been transformed from a pear-shaped Chinese vase (fig.1) into an ewer, a distinctly European useful ware for holding and pouring liquids. There are several ewers similar to this one, such as the Burghley House ewer in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.5 The long necks of Chinese vases were often sawn down to suit the desired proportions of European ewers. Ewers made from precious materials often displayed the highest standard of design and ornament in the Renaissance. The silver-gilt metalwork and the underglaze blue decoration of the porcelain epitomise late sixteenthto early seventeenth-century European and Chinese design respectively. The dragon motif and stylised foliage would have appealed to a European market’s imagination of the Far East. The decoration seen in the metalwork straps, spout, and friezes of the ewer and of the bowl (cat. no. 10) would likely have harmonised with other elements within an elite European interior.

1 Young 1999, pp. 14-16.

2 Ibid., p. 14.

3 See Lindsay Macnaughton’s essay in this catalogue.

4 Emmerson 1992, pp. 1-4; Galle 2020; Mintz 1986.

5 Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 198; Alcorn 2013.

Bridget Garza-Griffin

10. BOWL

Silver-gilt and porcelain

The porcelain: China, Wanli period (1573-1620)

The mounts: England (London), c. 1600

Diameter: 15.9 cm

Provenance: Unknown

Literature: Elizabethan Art 1926, case I, no. 2; Watts 1927a, p. 254; Schroder Collection 1979, no. 69; Art of the European Goldsmith 1983, no. 12; Glanville 1990, p. 346; Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 200

The circular porcelain bowl is painted under the glaze with scrolling flowers in cobalt blue. The silver-gilt mounts covering the lip and the foot of the bowl are joined up by four vertical straps, stamped with repeating ovals, buds and rose heads. The two scrolling handles are cast and chased with bearded demi-figures above a twisted lower section and scroll terminal. The silver-gilt mounts are unmarked. The porcelain is marked with a Chinese ‘commendation mark’ which translates to ‘May infinite happiness embrace your affairs’.

This bowl and the previous ewer can be associated with a group of mounted Chinese porcelain objects in England which are believed to date from the period 1576 - c.1620.1 The mounts on this bowl are unmarked but other objects in the group bear one of a series of related makers’ marks all characterised by one or more trefoils of various types. A similar bowl in the British Museum has identical rose-head stamped straps and bears a related maker’s mark. The foot and handles of this bowl are similar to those of two bowls at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, and The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, albeit those of this bowl are smaller in scale.2

All larger Chinese porcelain wares known to have reached England before 1600 are standard Wanli or Jiajing period export bowls, dishes and ewers.3 Chinese porcelain manufactories had started to produce objects for European export in the first half of the sixteenth century, including whole dinner services, which were not known in China. By the time of the Wanli era (1573-1620), a single export consignment destined for Europe could consist of thousands of items.4

Once in Europe, highly decorative mounts of precious metals, commonly silver-gilt, were added to porcelain objects. This practice dated to the Middle Ages and was a tribute to the rarity and perceived exotic nature of porcelain.5 By mounting porcelain, simple shapes were adapted to European taste, as illustrated here with the addition of handles to the porcelain bowl.6 Mounts visibly and literally enriched the beauty and value of the porcelain objects they contained and mounted porcelain items were regarded as suitably valuable to constitute royal gifts and for furnishing princely houses.

From the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries, mounted porcelain wares were considered suitable objects for display in European cabinets and Kunst and Wunderkammer. In sixteenth-century inventories, mounted porcelain objects were often listed under the category of plate because of the value of the metal mounts and because the objects themselves frequently appeared as part of the buffet display.7 Although relatively few mounted porcelains are known to have been in the English royal collection before 1580, these objects can often be linked to royal patronage, such as the Walsingham bowl at Burghley House, Stamford, which was given by Queen Elizabeth I to her godson, Sir Thomas Walsingham.

From around 1600, porcelain wares became items of regular trade between Europe and China, marking a gradual decline in their status.8 Notwithstanding the increasing availability of porcelain in Europe throughout the seventeenth century, porcelain objects remained items of value and wonder for some time.9 A still life painting by Willem Kalf c. 1660 (fig. 1), depicts a mounted blue and white porcelain ewer and bowl together with other valuable and exotic items, including a nautilus cup and Turkey carpet.

1 Renaissance Silver 2007, p. 200.

2 Ibid

3 Glanville 1990, p. 342.

4 Rudolf II and Prague 1997, p. 506.

5 Wilson 2000, p. 1.

6 Hackenbroch 1955, p. 22.

7 Glanville 1990, p. 342.

8 Ibid., p. 341.

9 Ayers 2001, p. 266.

Francesca John

Figure 1. Willem Kalf, Still Life with Ewer and Basin, Fruit, Nautilus Cup and other Objects c. 1660, oil on canvas, 111 × 84 cm, Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid (no. 204-1981.77). © Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid

Age of the Marvelous 1991

The Age of the Marvelous, ed. by Joy Kenseth, exh. cat., Hood Museum of Art, Hanover, NH, 1991.

Alcorn 2013

Ellenor Alcorn, ‘How this English Porcelain Bottle Mount Embraces China with Antiquity’, The MET: https://www. metmuseum.org/perspectives/videos/2013/5/ chinese-porcelain-ewer-art-explained [accessed 09-02-2023].

Andrews 2019

Noam Andrews, ‘The Ivory Turn’, in Making Marvels 2019, pp. 121-8.

Art of the European Goldsmith 1983

The Art of the European Goldsmith: Silver from the Schroder Collection, ed. by Timothy Schroder, exh. cat., American Federation of Arts, New York, 1983.

Art of the Royal Court 2008

Art of the Royal Court: Treasures in Pietre Dure from the Palaces of Europe, ed. by Wolfram Koeppe and Annamaria Giusti, exh. cat., The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 2008.

Asian Art, Collecting Guide 2022

Asian Art, Collecting Guide: 10 Things You Need to Know About Chinese Ceramics, Christie’s: https://www.christies.com/features/chineseceramics-collecting-guide-7224-1.aspx [accessed 09-02-2023].

Ayers 2001

John Ayers, ‘The Early China Trade’, in Impey and MacGregor 2001, pp. 259-66.

Bachmann 2006

Hans-Gert Bachmann, L’Or: mythes et objets, Paris, Citadelles et Mazenot, 2006.

Barbier de Montault 1887

Xavier Barbier de Montault, ‘Le phylactère de Château-Ponsac (Haute-Vienne)’, Bulletin de la Société scientifique, historique et archéologique de la Corrèze, IX, 1887, pp. 487-91.

Bass 2021

Claudia Bass, et al., Conchophilia: Shells, Art, and Curiosity in Early Modern Europe, Princenton, Princeton University Press, 2021.

Beckford 2001

William Beckford, 1760-1844: An Eye for the Magnificent, ed. by Philip Hewat-Jaboor and Derek E. Ostergard, exh. cat., Bard Graduate Center, New York and Dulwich Picture Gallery, London, 2002.

Boss 1977

Jeffrey Boss, ‘William Butler (1535-1618): Further Evidence on a Physician Between Two Ages’, Medical History, 21, 1977, pp. 43445.

British Art 1934

Exhibition of British art, c.1000-1860, exh. cat., Royal Academy of Arts, London, 1934.

Brosseder 2005

Claudia Brosseder, ‘The Writing in the Wittenberg Sky: Astrology in SixteenthCentury Germany’, Journal of the History of Ideas, 66, no. 4, 2005, pp. 557-76.

Buettner 2022

Brigitte Buettner, The Mineral and the Visual: Precious Stones in Medieval Secular Culture, University Park, PA, Pennsylvania State University Press, 2022.

Burke 1998

Edmund Burke, A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful [1757], and Other Pre-Revolutionary Writings, edited by David Womersley, London, Penguin Books, 1998.

Campbell Pedersen 2015

Maggie Campbell Pedersen, Ivory, London, NGA Press, 2015.

Caudron 1977

Simon Caudron, ‘Connoisseurs of Champlevé Limoges Enamels in Eighteenth-Century England’, British Museum Yearbook, no. 2, 1977, pp. 9-33.

Chaiklin 2010

Martha Chaiklin, ‘Ivory in World History: Early Modern Trade in Context’, History Compass, 8, 2010, pp. 530-42.

Clark 2019

Leah Clark, ‘The Politics of Acquisition: Venetian Objects in Italian Courtly Collections, ca. 1475-1525’, in Philippe Cordez and Romedio Schnitz-Esser (eds), Typical Venice? Venetian Commodities, 13th16th Centuries, Turnhout, Brepols, 2019, pp. 185-99.

Clark 2020

Leah Clark, ‘The Peregrinations of Porcelain: The Collections of Duchess Eleonora d’Aragona of Ferrara’, Journal of the History of Collections, 32, no. 2, 2020, pp. 275–88.

Clerbois 2011

Sébastien Clerbois, ‘The Revival of Ivory Sculpture in Belgium (1890–1910): The Material in Question’, in Sébastien Clerbois and Martina Droth (eds), Revival and Invention: Sculpture Through its Material Histories, Bern, Peter Lang, 2011, pp. 231-46.

Cordez 2020

Philippe Cordez, Treasure, Memory, Nature: Church Objects in the Middle Ages, London, Harvey Miller Publishers, 2020.

Cross 1983

Harry E. Cross, ‘South American Bullion Production and Export, 1550-1750’, in J. F. Richards (ed.), Precious Metals in the Later Medieval and Early Modern Worlds, Durham, Carolina Academic Press, pp. 397-424.

Darren Waterston 2020

Darren Waterston’s Filthy Lucre: Whistler’s Peacock Room Reimagined ed. by James Robinson, Florence Tyler, and Darren Waterston, exh. cat., Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 2020.

Daston and Park 1998

Lorraine Daston, and Katherine Park (eds), Wonders and the Order of Nature 1150-1750, New York, Zone Books, 1998.

Elizabethan Art 1926

Catalogue of an Exhibition of late Elizabethan Art, in Conjunction with the Tercentenary of Francis Bacon, exh. cat., Burlington Fine Arts Club, London, 1926.

Elsner and Cardinal 1994

John Elsner and Rodger Cardinal (eds), The Cultures of Collecting, London, Reaktion Books, 1994.

Emmerson 1992

Robin Emmerson, British Teapots & Tea Drinking 1700-1850 London, H.M. Stationery Office, 1992.

Favreau and Michaud 1978

Robert Favreau and Jean Michaud, Corpus des inscriptions de la France Médiévale II, Poitiers, L’ Université de Poitiers, 1978.

Flatt 1998

Adrian Flatt, ‘Fibonacci: His Numbers and Our Hands’, Baylor University Medical Centre Proceedings, 11, no. 3, pp. 119-22.

Flynn and Giráldez 1995

Dennis O. Flynn and Arturo Giráldez, ‘Born with a Silver Spoon: The Origin of World Trade in 1571’, Journal of World History, 6, no. 2, 1995, pp. 201-21.

Fox 2013

Celina Fox, ‘The New Kunstkammer, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna’, The Burlington Magazine, 155, no. 1323, 2013, pp. 402-7.

Fritz 1983

Rolf Fritz, Die Gefässe aus Kokosnuss in Mitteleuropa 1250-1800, Mainz, Verlag Philipp von Zabern, 1983.

Galle 2020

Jillian Galle, ‘Sugar, Slavery, and What They Left Behind’, Feast: https://feastjournal. co.uk/article/sugar-slavery-and-what-theyleft-behind/ [accessed 10-02-2023].

Gayford 2013

Martin Gayford, Michelangelo: His Epic Life, London, Penguin Books, 2013.

Gerritsen 2016

Anne Gerritsen, ‘Domesticating Goods from Overseas: Global Material Culture in the Early Modern Netherlands’, Journal of Design History, 29, no. 3, 2016, pp. 228-44.

Gerritsen 2020

Anne Gerritsen, The City of Blue and White: Chinese Porcelain and the Early Modern World, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2020.

Gerritsen and McDowall 2012

Anne Gerritsen and Stephen McDowall, ‘Material Culture and the Other: European Encounters with Chinese Porcelain, ca. 16501800’, Journal of World History, vol. 23, no. 1 (Special Issue: Global China), March 2012, pp. 87-113.

Glanville 1987

Philippa Glanville, Silver in England, London, Unwin Hyman, 1987.

Glanville 1990

Philippa Glanville, Silver in Tudor and Early Stuart England, London, V&A Publishing, 1990.

Glanville 1996

Philippa Glanville, Silver, London, V&A Publishing, 1996.

Goldgar 2008

Anne Goldgar, Tulipmania: Money, Honor, and Knowledge in the Dutch Golden Age, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2008.

Goldsmith and the Grape 1983

The Goldsmith and the Grape: Silver in the Service of Wine, ed. by Claude Blair, exh. cat., Goldsmiths’ Hall, London, 1983.

Greenhalgh 2020

Paul Greenhalgh, Ceramic, Art and Civilisation, London, Bloomsbury, 2020.

Haag, Kirchweger and Rainer 2015

Sabine Haag, Franz Kirchweger and Paulus Rainer (eds), Das Haus Habsburg und die Welt der furstlichen Kunstkammern im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert, Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum, 2015.

Hackenbroch 1955

Yvonne Hackenbroch, ‘Chinese Porcelain in European Silver Mounts’, The Connoisseur, CXXXVI, June 1955, pp. 22-9.

Hahn 2022

Cynthia Hahn, ‘Crystalline Vision: Experiencing the Divine in Images and Material’, in Magic Rock Crystal 2022, pp. 3346.

Hartop 2014

Christopher Hartop, Sir Robert Walpole’s Silver, Andover, The Silver Society, 2014.

Hayward 1976

John F. Hayward, Virtuoso Goldsmiths and the Triumph of Mannerism, London, Phillip Wilson Publishers, 1976.

Hernmarck 1977

Carl Hernmarck, The Art of the European Silversmith, London, Sotheby Parke Bernet, 1977.

Hewat-Jaboor 2020

Philip Hewat-Jaboor, ‘Looking Closely at Art During Lockdown’, Apollo Online, 24 June, 2020: https://www.apollo-magazine.com/ looking-closely-at-art-during-lockdown/ [accessed 11-02-2023].

Holly 2019

Michael Ann Holly, ‘Materiality Matters’, in Karen Lang (ed.), Field Notes on the Visual Arts Bristol, Intellect, 2019, pp. 162-5.

Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill 2009

Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill, ed. by Michael Snodin, exh. cat., Yale Centre for British Art, New Haven and Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 2009.

Hume 1969

David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature [1739], ed. by Ernest C. Mossner, London, Penguin Books, 1969.

Hwang Degenhardt 2013

Jane Hwang Degenhardt, ‘Cracking the Mysteries of “China”: China(ware) in the Early Modern Imagination’, Studies in Philology, 110, no. 1, 2013, pp. 132-67.

Impey 1997

Oliver Impey, Chinoiserie: The Impact of Oriental Styles on Western Art and Decoration, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1977.

Impey and MacGregor 2001

Oliver Impey and Arthur MacGregor (eds), The Origins of Museums: The Cabinet of Curiosities in Sixteenth- and SeventeenthCentury Europe, London, House of Stratus, 2001 (1st ed. 1985).

Johnson 1967

James William Johnson, ‘Horace Walpole and W. S. Lewis’, Journal of British Studies, 6, no. 2, 1967. pp. 64-75.

Jones 1928

E. Alfred Jones, Old Silver of Europe and America from Early Times to the Nineteenth Century, London, Batsford, 1928.

Kappel 2004

Jutta Kappel, ‘Turned Ivory Works’, in Princely Splendor 2004, pp. 176-9.

Kehoe 2011

Marsley Kehoe, ‘The Nautilus Cup Between Foreign and Domestic in the Dutch Golden Age’, Journal of Low Countries Studies, 35, 2011, no. 3, pp. 275-85.

Kenseth 1991a

Joy Kenseth, ‘“A World of Wonders in One Closet Shut”’, in Age of the Marvelous 1991, pp. 81-102.

Kenseth 1991b

Joy Kenseth, ‘The Age of the Marvelous: An Introduction’, in Age of the Marvelous 1991, pp. 25-60.

Ketton-Cremer 1964

Robert Wyndham Ketton-Cremer, Horace Walpole: A Biography, London, Methuen & Co., 1964.

Kjellberg 2000

Pierre Kjellberg, Objets montés, du Moyen-Âge à nos jours, Paris, Les Éditions de l’Amateur, 2000.

Klein and Ward 1984

Dan Klein and Lloyd Ward (eds), The History of Glass, London, Orbis, 1984.

Koeppe 2004

Wolfram Koeppe, ‘Exotica and the Kunstkammer: “Snake Stones, Iridescent Sea Snails, and Eggs of the Giant Iron-Devouring Bird”’, in Princely Splendor 2004, pp. 80-9.

Koeppe 2019

Wolfram Koeppe, ‘Marvels, Wonders and Their Offspring’, in Making Marvels 2019, pp. 15-25.

Kornbluth 2009

Genevra Kornbluth, ‘Rock Crystal’, in Grove Art Online (2009): https://doi.org/10.1093/ gao/9781884446054.article.T072523 [accessed 29-01-2023].

Kwass 2022

Michael Kwass, The Consumer Revolution, 1650–1800, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2022.

La Force 2015

Thessaly La Force, ‘The European Obsession with Porcelain’, The New Yorker: https://www. newyorker.com/books/page-turner/theeuropean-obsession-with-porcelain [accessed 12-02-2023].

Lamm 1930

Carl Johan Lamm, Mittelälterliche Gläser und Steinschnittarbeiten aus dem nähen Osten, Berlin, D. Reimar, 1930.

Lopez 2009

Ana M. Lopez, Metalworking Through History: An Encyclopedia, Westport, Greenwood Press, 2009.

Lost Treasures 2018

Lost Treasures of Strawberry Hill: Masterpieces from Horace Walpole’s Collection, ed. by Silvia Davoli, exh. cat., Strawberry Hill House, London, 2018.

Lugli 1990

Adalgisa Lugli, Naturalia et mirabilia: il collezionismo enciclopedico nelle Wunderkammern d’Europa, Milan, Mazzotta, 1990.

Lugli 1997

Adalgisa Lugli, Wunderkammer, Turin, Allemandi, 1997.

MacGregor 2007

Arthur MacGregor, Curiosity and Enlightenment: Collectors and Collections from the Sixteenth to the Nineteenth Century, New Haven and London, Yale University Press, 2007.

Magic Rock Crystal 2022

Magic Rock Crystal, ed. by Manuela Beer, exh. cat., Museum Schnütgen, Cologne, 2022.

Making Marvels 2019

Making Marvels: Science and Splendor at the Courts of Europe, ed. by Wolfram Koeppe, exh. cat., The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2019.

Mallet 2016

John V. G. Mallet, ‘The Travels of Tschirnhaus and the Re-invention of Hard-Paste Porcelain in Europe’, The French Porcelain Society Journal, vol. VI, 2016, pp. 37-73.

Mammarella and Navach 2006

Alberto Mammarella and Lisa Navach, ‘Musical Instruments in a 1592 Inventory of the Marquis Ferdinando d’Alarçon’, The Galpin Society Journal, 59, 2006, pp. 187-205.

Marine Art 1929

Catalogue of an Exhibition of Marine Art, exh. cat., Burlington Fine Arts Club, London, 1929.

Martin 2022

Meredith Martin, ‘Porcelain Rooms’, in Erin Griffey (ed.), Early Modern Court Culture, London, Routledge, 2022, pp. 343-57.

Mauriès 2011

Patrick Mauriès, Cabinets of Curiosities, London, Thames & Hudson, 2011.

McEachern 2008

Claire McEachern, ‘Why Do Cuckolds Have Horns?’, Huntington Library Quarterly, 71, 2008, pp. 607-31.

Melis 2014

Maria Grazia Melis, ‘Silver in Neolithic and Eneolithic Sardinia’, in Harald Meller, Roberto Risch, and Ernst Pernicka (eds), Metalle der Macht – Frühes Gold und Silber, Halle (Saale), Landesamt für Denkmalpflege und Archäologie Sachsen-Anhalt –Landesmuseum für Vorgeschichte Halle Museum, 2014, pp. 483-94.

Mette 1995

Hanns-Ulrich Mette, Der Nautiluspokal: Wie Kunst und Natur miteinander spielen, Berlin and Munich, Klinkhardt & Biermann, 1995.

Minney 2009

Frank Minney, ‘Horn and Antler’, in Grove Art Online (2009): https://doi.org/10.1093/ gao/9781884446054.article.T038966 [accessed 04-02-2023].

Mintz 1986

Sidney Wilfred Mintz, Sweetness and Power: The Place of Sugar in Modern History, London, Penguin Books, 1986.

Mirollo 1991

James V. Mirollo, ‘The Aesthetics of the Marvelous: The Wondrous Work of Art in a Wondrous World’, in Age of the Marvelous 1991, pp. 61-80.

Morgan 2012

Simon Morgan, ‘Material Culture and the Politics of Personality in Early Victorian England’, Journal of Victorian Culture, 17, 2012, pp. 127-46.

National Exhibition

Leeds 1868

National Exhibition of Works of Art at Leeds, exh. cat., Executive Committee, Leeds, 1868.

Overbey 2014

Karen Overbey, ‘Seeing through Stone: Materiality and Place in a Medieval Scottish Pendant Reliquary’, RES: Anthropology and Aesthetics, no. 65/66, 2014, pp. 242–58.

Paston Treasure 2018

The Paston Treasure: Microcosm of the Known World ed. by Andrew Moore, Nathan Flis, and Francesca Vanke, exh. cat., Yale Centre for British Art, New Haven, and Norwich Castle Museum & Art Gallery, Norwich, 2018.

Pelka 1923

Otto Pelka, Elfenbein, Berlin, Schmidt, 1923.

Pernicka, Rehren and Schmitt-Strecker 1998

Ernst Pernicka, Thilo Rehren and Sigrid Schmitt-Strecker, ‘Late Uruk Silver Production by Cupellation at Habuba Kabira, Syria’, in Thilo Rehren, Andreas Hauptmann and James D. Muhly (eds), Metallurgica Antiqua: In Honour of Hans-Gert Bachmann and Robert Maddin, Bochum, Selbstverlag des Deutschen Bergbau-Museums, 1998, pp. 123-34.

Pierson 2007

Stacey Pierson, Collectors, Collections and Museums. The Field of Chinese Ceramics in Britain, 1560-1960, Berne and Oxford, Peter Lang, 2007.

Pierson 2012

Stacey Pierson, ‘The Movement of Chinese Ceramics: Appropriation in Global History’, Journal of World History, vol. 23, no. 1 (Special Issue: Global China) March 2012, pp. 9-39.

Pierson 2019

Stacey Pierson, ‘Chinese porcelain, the East India Company, and British Cultural Identity, 1600–1800’, in Tamara H. Bentley (ed.), Picturing Commerce in and from the East Asian Maritime Circuits, 1550-1800, Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press, 2019, pp. 27592.

Pole 2009

Len Pole, ‘Shell’, in Grove Art Online (2009):https://doi.org/10.1093/ gao/9781884446054.article.T078150 [accessed 05-02-2023].

Pomian 1990

Krzysztof Pomian, Collectors and Curiosities: Paris and Venice 1500-1800 Cambridge MA, Basil Blackwell, 1990.

Princely Splendor 2004

Princely Splendor: The Dresden Court 15801620, ed. by Dirk Syndram and Antje Scherner, exh. cat., Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe, Hamburg, and The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 2004.

Queen Charlotte’s Loan Exhibition 1929

Queen Charlotte›s Loan Exhibition of Old Silver: English, Irish and Scottish, all prior to 1739, London, Seaford House, 1929.

Randall 1985

Richard H. Randall (ed.), Masterpieces of Ivory from the Walters Art Gallery, New York, Hudson Hills Press, 1985.

Raulet 1999

Sylvie Raulet, Rock Crystal Treasures from Antiquity to Today, Paris, Assouline, 1999.

Redding 1859

Cyrus Redding, Memoirs of William Beckford of Fonthill, 2 vols, London, Charles J. Skeet, 1859.

Reiner 2019

Paulus Reiner, ‘Chasing Marvels, Revealing Secrets. The Kunstkammer in the Age of Discovery’, in Making Marvels 2019, pp. 51-8.

Renaissance Silver 2007

Renaissance Silver from the Schroder Collection, ed. by Timothy Schroder, exh. cat., Wallace Collection, London, 2007.

Ritchie 1974

Carson I. A. Ritchie, Shell Carving: History and Techniques, South Brunswick, A.S. Barnes, 1974.

Robertson 1926

W. G. Aitchison Robertson, ‘The Use of the Unicorn›s Horn, Coral and Stones’, Annals of Historical Medicine, 8, 1926, pp. 240-8.

Rosenberg 1922-8

Marc Rosenberg, Der Goldschmiede Merkzeichen, 4 vols, Frankfurt am Main, Verlag von Heinrich Keller, 1922-8.

Rudolf II and Prague 1997

Rudolf II and Prague: The Court and the City, ed. by Eliška Fuciková, et al., exh. cat., Prague Castle, Prague, 1997.

Rupin 1890

Ernest Rupin, L’Œuvre de Limoges, Paris, Picard, 1890.

Sax 2004

Margaret Sax, ‘The Identification of Carving Techniques on Chinese Jade’, Journal of Archaeological Science 31, 2004, pp. 1413-28.

Schaverein 1998

Adele Schaverien, ‘Horn, Medals and Straw: A Little Known Link’, The Medal, 32, 1998, pp. 31-8.

Schaverein 2002

Adele Schaverien, ‘Impressions in Horn’, Plastiquarian, 22, 2002, pp. 12-6.

Schaverein 2006

Adele Schaverien, Horn: Its History and Its Uses, Oakland, Masalai Press, 2006.

Scheicher 1979

Elisabeth Scheicher, Die Kunst- Und Wunderkammern Der Habsburger, Vienna, Molden, 1979.

Schlosser 2021

Julius von Schlosser, Art and Curiosity Cabinets of the Late Renaissance: A Contribution to the History of Collecting ed. by Thomas DaCosta Kaufmann, Los Angeles, The Getty Research Institute, 2021 (1st ed. 1908).

Schroder Collection 1979

The Schroder Collection: Virtuoso Goldsmiths’ Work from the Age of Humanism, ed. by Timothy Schroder, exh. cat., Goldsmiths’ Hall, London, 1979.

Seelig 1995

Lorenz Seelig, Silver and Gold: Courtly Splendour from Augsburg, Munich and New York, Prestel, 1995.

Slocum 2004

Kay Slocum, Liturgies in Honor of Thomas Becket, Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 2004.

Smith 1983

Jeffrey Chipps Smith, Nuremberg: A Renaissance City, 1500-1618, Texas, University of Texas Press, 1983.

Smith 2022

Jeffery Chipps Smith, Kunstkammer: Early Modern Art and Curiosity Cabinets in the Holy Roman Empire, London, Reaktion Books, 2022.

Snickare 2022

Mårten Snickare, Colonial Objects in Early Modern Sweden and Beyond: From the Kunstkammer to the Current Museum Crisis, Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press, 2022.

Special Exhibition 1862

Catalogue of the Special Exhibition of Works of Art of the Mediæval, Renaissance, and more Recent Periods, on Loan at the South Kensington Museum, London, ed. by J. C. Robinson, exh. cat., South Kensington Museum, London, 1862.

Splendour and Power 2011

Splendour and Power: Imperial Treasures from Vienna, ed. by Paulus Rainer, exh. cat., Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, Schmuckmuseum Pforzheim, Kunstmuseum des Landes Sachsen-Anhalt, Halle/Saale, 2011.

Stark 2003/4

Marnie P. Stark, ‘Mounted Bezoar Stones, Seychelles Nuts, and Rhinoceros Horns: Decorative Objects as Antidotes in Early Modern Europe’, Studies in the Decorative Arts 11, no. 1, pp. 69-94.

Strawberry Hill 1842

A Catalogue of the Classic Contents of Strawberry Hill collected by Horace Walpole: to be sold for the Earl of Waldegrave by George Robins, April 25th, 1842, and twenty-three following days, [London] 1842 (25 April – 21 May).

Tait 1991

Hugh Tait, Catalogue of the Waddesdon Bequest in the British Museum, III. The ‘Curiosities’, London, British Museum, 1991.

Texier 1853

Abbé Texier, ‘L’Orfèvrerie au XIIIe Siècle’, Annales archéologiques, XIII, 1853, pp. 326-30.

Texier 1857

Abbé Texier, Dictionnaire d’orfèvrerie, de gravure et de la ciselure chrétiennes, Paris, J. P. Migne, 1857.

Treanor 2014

Virginia Treanor, ‘“Une abondance extra ordinaire”: The Porcelain Collection of Amalia van Solms’, Early Modern Women vol. 9, no. 1, Autumn 2014, pp. 141-54.

Trésors des églises 1965

Les trésors des églises de France, exh. cat., Musée des Arts décoratifs, Paris, 1965.

Trusted 2013

Marjorie Trusted, Baroque & Later Ivories, London, Victoria and Albert Museum Publishing, 2013.

Vlassova 2001

E. V. Vlassova, ‘The Scythian Drinking-Horn’, in John Boardman, Sergei Solovyov, and G. R. Tsetskhadze (eds), Northern Pontic Antiquities in the State Hermitage Museum, Leiden, Brill, 2001, pp. 71-111.

Wainwright 1989

Clive Wainwright, The Romantic Interior: The British Collector at Home 1750-1850, New Haven and London, Yale University Press, 1989.

Walpole 1762-71

Horace Walpole, Anecdotes of Painting in England with Some Account of the Principal Artists and Incidental Notes on Other Arts, 5 vols, London, Strawberry Hill, 1762-71.

Walpole 1774

Horace Walpole, A Description of the Villa of Mr. Horace Walpole at Strawberry Hill, Near Twickenham, Middlesex, London, Strawberry Hill, 1774.

Walpole’s Correspondence 1937-83

The Yale Edition of Horace Walpole’s Correspondence ed. Wilmarth S. Lewis, 48 vols, New Haven and London, Yale University Press, 1937-83.

Watts 1927a

W. W. Watts, ‘English Silver chiefly of the Tudor Period in the Collection of Baron and Baroness Bruno Schroder’, Old Furniture, 1, no. 4, 1927, pp. 245-56.

Watts 1927b

W. W. Watts, ‘Continental Silver in the Collection of Baron and Baroness Bruno Schroder, Old Furniture, 2, no. 5, 1927, pp. 3-96.

Weinhold 2004

Ulrike Weinhold, ‘Goldwork’, in Princely Splendor 2004, pp. 206-11.

Wilson 2000

Gillian Wilson, Mounted Oriental Porcelain in the J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles, J. Paul Getty Museum, 2000.

Wirth 2000

Karl-August Wirth, 'Von Silbernen. ‘Von Silbernen und Silbermontierten Eulengefaessen’, Anzeiger des Germanischen Nationalmuseums, 1968, pp. 42-83.

Works of Ancient and Mediaeval Art 1850 Works of Ancient and Mediaeval Art Exhibited at the House of the Society of Arts, exh. cat., House of the Society of Arts, London, 1850.

Young 1999

Hilary Young, English Porcelain 1745-95: Its Makers, Design, Marketing and Consumption, London, V&A Publishing, 1999.

Zurowsky 2017

Eugenia Zuroski, ‘Nautilus Cups and Unstill Life’, Journal18, no. 3 (Lifelike), Spring 2017, https://www.journal18.org/1493.DOI: 10.30610/3.2017.3.