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Plate III: Baptismal Font, in St. James' Church, Westminster
Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0
Transcription:Vas marmorem sacro baptismati dicatum acroterio deaurato coronatum in ecclesia Divi Jacobi Westmonasterii. Opus Grinlini Gibbons aere jam perennieri sculpsit Georgius Vertue 1718.
Translation [EB]A marble vessel dedicated to the holy baptism, topped with a golden ornament. It is in the Church of St. James, Westminster. The work of Grinling Gibbons. Now engraved in everlasting copper by George Vertue, 1718.Engraved by George Vertue after a drawing by Car. [Charles] Woodfield in the collection of S.G. [Samuel Gale]. Dated 1718.
Object:Marble baptismal font of St. James’s, Piccadilly, presumed to be by the famous Restoration wood and stoneworker Grinling Gibbons (1648-1721) although according to Green this engraving is the strongest evidence that the font is actually the work of Gibbons (Green 1964: 64). Beard points out that since the engraving was issued three years before Gibbons died, there is little reason to doubt the attribution (Beard 1989: 33). Horace Walpole also attributes the font to Gibbons in his collection Anecdotes of Painting in England . . . Collected by the Late Mr. George Vertue (Walpole 1763: 3.86).
Provenance and Location:According to the church vestry book, the font was given to the church in 1685 by “an unknown person piously inclined” (Green 1964: 64). The font remains in St. James’s, Picadilly, to the present day.
The engraving gives details of the three scenes on the sides of the font: Noah’s Ark, the baptism of Christ, and the baptism of the eunuch of Candace by St. Philip. The plate also shows the flying angel cover, which no longer survives, and was probably sold in 1822, when the font was moved. It was described by Hatton as “a spacious Angel Descending from a Celestial Choir of Cherubims, all gilt with Gold.” (qtd. in Green 1964: 64). The engraving seems to indicate the presence of some sort of pulley structure for lifting the cover up and down. The Adam and Eve pedestal, carved in the form of the trunk of an apple tree, reflects contemporary belief that babies were tainted with original sin.
One question that arises with respect to this engraving is why such a recent object would be included in a book of antiquities. Indeed, the church itself was not even constructed until 1685, and at least one antiquary found nothing of interest there for that reason (Bailey 1734: xx). But Gibbons’s contributions to his arts apparently established him as a figure of historical and aesthetic importance throughout the eighteenth century, and his name appears in many tourist guidebooks, not only of London, where he erected a famous statue of Charles II in the Royal Exchange, much praised by contemporary viewers (Philipps 1684), but of such great houses as Chatsworth, Derbyshire and Burghley House, Lincolnshire.
The diarist and connoisseur John Evelyn claims to have discovered Gibbons by accident and introduced him to the King, and his entry for January 18, 1671 presents us with a picturesque tale:
I this day first acquainted his Majestie with that incomparable young man, Gibson, whom I had lately found in an Obscure place, & that by mere accident, as I was walking neere a poor solitary thatched house in a field in in our parish neere Says-Court: I found him shut in, but looking into the Window, I perceiv’d him carving that large Cartoone or Crucifix of Tintorets, a Copy of which I had also my selfe brought from Venice. . . . he opned the doore civily to me, & I saw about him such a work, as for the curiosity of handling, drawing, & studious exactnesse, I never in my life had seene before in all my travells. (Evelyn 1955: 3.567).
In this account, Gibbons himself becomes a kind of collectible object, available to Evelyn to be snatched up, taken away, and presented with pride to a wider audience. In fact, he is nearly paralleled to Evelyn’s own copy of Tintoretto’s crucifix. In this way, Gibbons resembles many of the other curiosities and antiquarian objects presented in the volume.
Moreover, it seems that Vertue conducted considerable research into the life and work of Gibbons, so the inclusion of the font in Vetusta Monumenta may have been an expression of his own interest. Walpole mentions Vertue’s inquiries into the place of Gibbons’s birth (Holland by one account, Spur Alley in the Strand by another), as well as Vertue’s consultation of certain manuscripts to prove Gibbons’s responsibility for a “brazen statue of James II. in the Privy-garden” (Walpole 1763: 3.84). Anecdotes of Painting in England includes a fine engraved portrait of Gibbons.
Vertue’s engraving of the font is clearly meant to represent the delicacy of Gibbons’s art and the intricacy of his skill. The foliage, in particular, that winds around the base of the font, appears almost too fragile and sinuous to be carved of marble, and indeed the pictures of the font now featured on the church’s website reveal the engraving to be somewhat of an exaggeration, fine though the carving actually is.
In fact, this delicacy and verisimilitude were the qualities for which Gibbons was best known in the eighteenth century. Walpole called Gibbons “An original genius, a citizen of nature” and claims that “There is no instance of a man before Gibbons who gave to wood the loose and airy lightness of flowers, and chained together the various productions of the elements with a free disorder natural to each species” (Walpole 1763: 3.82). He also notes at Chatsworth, “over a closet door, a pen not distinguishable from a real feather” (3.85). Hogarth indicates Gibbons’s status as a recognizable standard for excellence and realism in The Analysis of Beauty when he describes a certain leaf-like figure as one that “would have been above the power of a Gibbons to have equalled” Hogarth 1753: 68). In 1766, John Gwynn described him thus: “Gibbons, the admired Gibbons! the touches of whose chisel are inconceivably delicate, arose the wonder of an admiring people; his productions of the vegetable and animal creations are above description. St. Paul’s, Windsor, Petworth, Chatsworth, and the whole united kingdom, conspire to make his character equal to any age or country, and statue of James the Second in Privy-Garden, may rank with the productions of the Roman school” (Gwynn 1766: 30). Gwynn’s comparison of Gibbons’s statue to the classical is interesting when we consider it alongside Gibbons’s inclusion in a book purporting to focus on antiquities. Gibbons is rendered here as producer of modern antiquities, an eighteenth-century counterpart to the ancients.
Of the font itself, eighteenth-century commentators say little, but this is not surprising given the sheer volume of Gibbons’s work. Modern art historians consider the font somewhat inferior to Gibbons’s other work (Green 1964: 64; Beard 1989: 33). Nonetheless, Vertue clearly admired it. Esterly points out that while Gibbons’s name is now often associated with Christopher Wren’s, Gibbons had little to do with Wren’s post-fire redesigning of London churches until his reputation was well established. This font of 1685, along with Gibbons’s work on the church’s reredos, may in fact been his earliest contribution to a Wren church (Esterly 1998: 22-23).
Works CitedBailey, N. 1734. The Antiquities of London and Westminster. London.
Beard, Geoffrey. 1989. The Work of Grinling Gibbons. Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press.
Esterly, David. 1998. Grinling Gibbons and the Art of Carving. New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc.
Evelyn, John. 1955. The Diary of John Evelyn. 6 vols., edited by E. S. de Beer. Oxford: Clarendon.
Green, David. 1964. Grinling Gibbons: His Work as Carver and Statuary, 1648-1721. London: Country Life Limited.
Gwynn, John. 1766. London and Westminster Improved, Illustrated by Plans. London.
Hogarth, William. 1753. The Analysis of Beauty. London.
Philipps, Samuel. 1684. To the Learned and Worthy Artist Mr. Grinsted Gibbons. London.
Walpole, Horace. 1763. Anecdotes of Painting in England; with Some Account of the Principal Artists; and Incidental Notes on Other Arts; Collected by the Late Mr. George Vertue. 4 vols. London.
Introduction to the digital edition of Vetusta Monumenta
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Continue to Volume IIllustration was the technique par excellence of the antiquary.
(Alain Schnapp, Discovering the Past)
Vetusta Monumenta [Ancient Monuments], published in seven volumes between 1747 and 1906, was the first of four major publication series launched by the Society of Antiquaries of London in the eighteenth century. Plates i, ii, iii and iv were published individually in 1718, the year the society was formally re-established at the Mitre Tavern. By commissioning these engravings, the society defined its research agenda in terms of preservation, visual documentation, and collecting. This agenda, and the publication of images as a means of pursuing it, remained consistent throughout the eighteenth century, even though membership grew steadily—and steadily richer—from the original socially diverse group of eighteen members to 300 in 1770 and 800 by 1820 (Pearce 2007: 147).
In 1751, the Society of Antiquaries received its royal charter, which gave it a status equal to the Royal Society and charged its Fellows with “the encouragement, advancement and furtherance of the study and knowledge of the antiquities and history of this and other countries.” In keeping with this broad mission, the objects selected for inclusion in Vetusta Monumenta form a large and varied set, ranging from artifacts such as a Romano-British Marble bust and medieval monastic seals to architectural monuments including Fountains Abbey. The objects depicted range in age from roughly the 3rd to the 17th century CE. Since some charters, maps, and other documents were also engraved for the series, the distinction between “history” and “antiquities” can be deployed to class the engravings loosely as historical (documents) and antiquarian (artifacts and monuments), but this distinction is more a product of twentieth-century historiography than of the antiquaries’ own motives.
The first secretary, William Stukeley, recorded at the first meeting that the society was formed “with a design at their own charge to collect and print and keep exact Registers . . . of all Antient Monuments that come into their hands” (qtd. in Evans 1956: 58). John Talman, the first director, was later credited with the original idea of publishing a series of prints (Evans 1956: 62n7). Fellows of the society received a copy of each engraving as a benefit of membership and additional copies went to book- and printsellers--but rarely enough to make up the deficit between the cost of the prints and revenue from membership dues.
Selecting subjects for the engravings was a major responsibility of the Fellows, and later specifically the Council, of the Society of Antiquaries. Neither the engraver nor the director had editorial control of these decisions, and some entries in the Society’s Minute Books record the lively discussion that sometimes accompanied the selection process. Although some critics protested that the objects were miscellaneous and often trivial, Vetusta Monumenta effectively promoted the history of everyday life. “By producing representations of everyday objects,” as Bernard Nurse has observed, “the Society extended the idea of what would be acceptable for publication” (Nurse 2007: 143).
Vetusta Monumenta tells a story that is both deeply illuminating for the history of preservation and uniquely relevant for readers and scholars in a digital age. By looking at the kinds of objects chosen for these engravings, we gain insight into the debate over what counts as evidence and what counts as history. By tracing the series from the early individual plates to the formation of a lavish scholarly book publication, we witness the transformation of eclectic private scholarship into a public discourse of antiquities engaged with the literary marketplace. The highly finished, visually captivating quality of many of these prints is matched by their historical significance as records of the state of many monuments that have deteriorated since the eighteenth century; in more than a few cases, these prints provide the sole record of artifacts and monuments that do not themselves survive. A digital scholarly edition of the images and accompanying text materially furthers this goal of preservation and makes the work accessible to a much wider audience. The images owe their strong aesthetic appeal as well as their accuracy to the laborious technique of copper engraving, which also made the original volumes prohibitively expensive for most readers. Now the volumes are extremely rare and even the existing digital version is neither open access nor of high quality. The present edition makes Vetusta Monumenta genuinely accessible, not just by reproducing the content but by providing scholarly commentary, digital search tools, and all the features of a modern digital edition.
By 1747, 70 engravings had been published, enough to form a substantial volume (for which the title Vetusta Monumenta was created). The second volume, with 55 more plates, appeared in 1789. Beginning with Plate xx of this volume (originally published in 1763), the editors began to include letterpress “explanations of the plates” with each engraving or subset of engravings, instead of including text in the form of a caption or on the plate itself. (Some essays on the objects depicted were also written before 1763, but these were published separately.) These explanations considerably swelled the size of the volumes, and not coincidentally the Society launched its second serial publication, the learned journal Archaeologia, at about the same time (1770). Volume III, the last volume included here, was published in 1796 with 44 plates and about 200 pages of letterpress.
During its first fifty years of publication, the most important figure involved with Vetusta Monumenta was the engraver George Vertue (1684-1756), who was also a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries. Vertue engraved all but one of the first 90 plates and also made several of the original drawings. During the rest of the eighteenth century, the central figure was Richard Gough (1735-1809), who became Director of the Society of Antiquaries in 1768. After Vertue, there were no engravers in the Society, which was by now more expensive to join and more genteel in its composition. Gough’s predecessor hired the engraver James Basire (Sr), whose workshop (later led by James Basire Jr) created all the engravings for Vetusta Monumenta from 1765 as well as hundreds of engravings for Archaeologia, the society’s Cathedral Series (1795-1810), and individual publications by members. The last of Vertue’s plates (II.xx) was published posthumously in 1763 and the engraving work passed to Basire in 1765 (II.xxi-ii).
For a brief period, the Society turned its attention to a new series of larger historical prints and no new engravings were published for Vetusta Monumenta between 1770 and 1780 (Nurse 2007: 144). Gough, however, ensured the continuation of the series with seven new plates in 1780 and twenty more by 1789, all with extensive letterpress explications. Though the objects depicted varied widely, the standard form of the prints in each of the two phases (under Vertue and Gough, respectively) helped to establish a recognizable connoisseurial and scholarly idiom. Imperial folio size paper (21 ½ x 14 ½ inches) was used throughout along with a relatively uniform style of engraving and captioning, later giving way to added letterpress. When the first series was bound into a volume, a Latinized subtitle was added, pointing toward conservation (“preserving the memory of [British] things”) as the unified research agenda; this language is reminiscent of Stukeley's insistence on visual documentation in the preface to his Itinerarium Curiosum (Stukeley 1724; Nurse 2007: 143).
The gradually increasing emphasis on text and interpretation in Vetusta Monumenta reflects the shift of primary editorial responsibility from Vertue, an artist and engraver, to Gough, a scholar whose agenda for the society as a whole centered on research and publication. The decision not to include commentary (even when available) over the first 1 ½ volumes, however, does not imply any defect of scholarship on the part of Vertue or the society’s first director, John Talman. Rather, the later expansion of Vetusta Monumenta reflects an increasingly strict division of labor characteristic of the later eighteenth century. In the early decades, not only the engravings, but also some of the original drawings, were produced by Fellows of the Society of Antiquaries including Stukeley and Talman. Later in the century, by contrast, both Basire and draftsmen such as John Carter and Jacob Schnebbelie were hired on a contract basis and regarded as more or less menial. They were considered “practical antiquaries” (Gough 1799: II.i.7) as distinct from those who wrote the scholarly text now seen as central to the discipline. Horace Walpole’s assessment of Vertue captures the earlier integral relationship between engraving and art historical scholarship, along with the emphasis on preservation, embodied in the earlier decades of Vetusta Monumenta: “The many valuable monuments relating to our history, and the persons of our monarchs and great men, which he saved from oblivion, are lasting evidences of his merit” (Walpole 1796: I.i).
As Nurse has observed, three of the plates in volume I (33, 42, 48) were engraved from rediscovered drawings of monuments that had already been destroyed, and Sam Smiles notes that the series was produced “at a time of social and economic change, with many sites vulnerable to ‘improvement’ or demolition” (Smiles 2007: 123). A remark from one of Gough’s independent scholarly books, Sepulchral Monuments, signals a generalized anxiety about the loss of monuments that is also indicative for Vetusta Monumenta. “In a few years more we shall have no foundation left for such a work,” Gough declares, and proceeds to list several monuments that are “crumbling away without having been drawn” (Gough 1799: I.3-4).
Modern scholarship has attended to some individual plates from Vetusta Monumenta, but there has been no systematic account of the publication series as a whole. In recent years, discussion of these plates has revolved around the question of preservation. Maria Grazia Lolla, Rosemary Sweet, and Martin Myrone have all commented specifically on two plates depicting Waltham Cross, one of the “Eleanor Crosses” erected by Edward I in memory of his queen between 1291 and 1294 (vol. 1, plate vii, and vol. 3, plate xvi). The society paid for wooden posts to protect the cross from traffic, but this was a trifling effort compared to the expense and care lavished on the print series and other scholarly activities intended to serve preservation. The antiquaries themselves noticed this paradox: “Vetusta Monumenta flourished and the monuments of medieval England fell into decay,” as Joan Evans reflected in her history of this phase of the institution (Evans 1956: 192).
Although Vetusta Monumenta has made real contributions to preservation, the engravings collected here also served purposes that were clearly not subservient to the ostensible intention of preserving monuments, including social prestige and aestheticizing representation. These contradictions have led some scholars, such as Lolla and Myrone, to caution against taking the antiquaries’ preservationist claims at face value and instead to emphasize the ideological character of antiquarian prints as representations. A contrasting modern view, represented by Smiles and Matthew Reeve, insists on their continuing evidentiary function as visual documentation. More popular illustrated collections of antiquities, by such figures as Samuel and Nathaniel Buck and later John Britton (himself a Fellow of the Society), competed with and ultimately displaced Vetusta Monumenta among general readers by the late eighteenth century.
Vetusta Monumenta provides a uniquely rich record for scholars in the humanities today, who are increasingly interested in the study of objects and material culture. These engravings provide an intimate record of the kinds of objects collectively judged to be important, not by a single author or thinker, but by a large body of scholars and amateurs over the course of eight decades (and beyond, although the nineteenth-century volumes are outside the scope of the present edition). The energies of these wildly diverse objects, ranging from a Roman plumbing system to a lavish royal portrait to an early Tudor table of weights and measures, exceed the aesthetic framework in which they are placed. In some cases, the engravings become entangled with the afterlives of the objects themselves; the engraving of the Westminster portrait of Richard II (plate iv), for instance, preserves a record of the raised gesso ground confirmed as an original feature of the painting by modern scholars after it was scraped off the original by Victorian restorers. Humanists from many disciplines, whether embracing or resisting influential methodologies such as Actor-Network Theory (Latour 2005), Thing Theory (Brown 2004), or Object-Oriented Ontology (Harman 2002), may find in Vetusta Monumenta a cluster of objects both highly mediated and uniquely redolent of the intimacy in which their humans lived with them.
While many of the plates present objects in a state of ruin, it would be unhistorical to divorce ruin as a merely picturesque state from ruin as a material condition that demanded archaeological knowledge. Readers of this edition, who also have the Internet at their disposal to compare these beautiful engravings with modern photographs and research, can decide for themselves. While every effort was made not to damage the books in the course of scanning their pages for this edition, some inevitable wear and tear led us to contemplate a similar paradox. Preservation is one legitimate motive for producing a state-of-the-art digital analogue for these images that represent the state of the art in mechanical reproduction for their time. More important, we hope this edition will stimulate the same curiosity, wonder, and skepticism that we have experienced, especially for readers who do not have access to the original volumes. Vetusta Monumenta (I-III) offers a rich repository of antiquarian images and scholarship from a time when the scope and status of antiquity became open and often fiercely contested questions.
Brown, Bill, ed. 2004. Things. Chicago: U of Chicago P.
Evans, Joan. 1956. A History of the Society of Antiquaries. London: Society of Antiquaries.
George II of England. 1751. Society of Antiquaries of London Royal Charter. [Quoted in sal.org.uk.]
Gough, Richard. 1786-96 . Sepulchral Monuments in Great Britain. 2 vols. in 5. London: Printed by J. Nichols, for the author.
Harman, Graham. 2002. Tool-Being: Heidegger and the Metaphysics of Objects. Peru, IL: Open Court.
Latour, Bruno. 2005. Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network Theory. Oxford: Oxford UP.
Lolla, Maria Grazia. 1999. “Ceci n’est pas un monument: Vetusta Monumenta and Antiquarian Aesthetics.” In Producing the Past: Aspects of Antiquarian Culture and Practice, 1700-1850, edited by Martin Myrone and Lucy Peltz. 15-34. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Myrone, Martin. 2007. “Society of Antiquaries and the Graphic Arts: George Vertue and His Legacy.” In Visions of Antiquity: The Society of Antiquaries of London, 1707-2007, edited by Susan Pearce. 98-121. London: SAL.
Nurse, Bernard. 2007. "Bringing Truth to Light." In Making History: Antiquaries in Britain, 1707-2007, edited by David Gaimster and David Starkey. 143-45. London: Royal Academy, 2007.
Pearce, Susan. 2007. “Antiquaries and the Interpretation of Ancient Objects, 1770-1820.” In Visions of Antiquity: The Society of Antiquaries of London, 1707-2007, edited by Susan Pearce. 147-74. London: SAL.
Reeve, Matthew. 2007. “Jacob Schnebbelie, Draughtsman to the Society of Antiquaries (1760-92), and the Politics of Preservation in Late Eighteenth-Century England.” Transactions of the Ancient Monuments Society 51: 69-86.
---. 2008. Thirteenth-century Wall Painting of Salisbury Cathedral: Art, Liturgy, and Reform. Suffolk: Boydell and Brewer.
Smiles, Sam. 2007. "The Art of Recording." In Making History: Antiquaries in Britain, 1707-2007, edited by David Gaimster and David Starkey. 123-25. London: Royal Academy.
---. 2003. “Data, Documentation and Display in Eighteenth-Century Investigations of Exeter Cathedral.” In Tracing Architecture: The Aesthetics of Antiquarianism, edited by Dana Arnold and Stephen Bending. 80-99. Oxford: Blackwell.
---. 2000. Eye Witness: Artists and Visual Documentation in Britain, 1770-1830. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Stukeley, William. 1724. Itinerarium Curiosum. Or, An Account of the Antiquitys and Remarkable Curiositys in Nature or Art, Observ’d in Travels thro’ Great Brittan. London: Printed for the Author.
Sweet, Rosemary. 2004. Antiquaries: The Discovery of the Past in Eighteenth-Century Britain. London: Hambledon and London.
Walpole, Horace. 1796. Anecdotes of Painting in England . . . Collected by the late Mr. George Vertue. 4th edition. London: Printed for R. Dodsley.
Evans, Joan. 1956. A History of the Society of Antiquaries. London: Society of Antiquaries.
Gaimster, David, and David Starkey, eds. 2007. Making History: Antiquaries in Britain, 1707-2007. London: Royal Academy.
Gough, Richard. 1770. Introduction. Archaeologia 1: i-xxxix.
Myrone, Martin, and Lucy Peltz, eds. 1999. Producing the Past: Aspects of Antiquarian Culture and Practice, 1700-1850. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Pearce, Susan, ed. 2007. Visions of Antiquity: The Society of Antiquaries of London, 1707-2007. London: SAL.
Schnapp, Alain. 1997. The Discovery of the Past: the Origins of Archaeology. New York: Harry N. Abrams.
Society of Antiquaries of London. 1754. Queries Proposed to Gentlemen in the Several Parts of Great Britain, in Hope of Obtaining from Their Answers a Better Knowledge of Its Antiquities and Natural History. London.
---. 1747-1906. Vetusta Monumenta. 7 vols. London: SAL.
Sweet, Rosemary. 2004. Antiquaries: The Discovery of the Past in Eighteenth-Century Britain. London: Hambledon and London.