J. C. & J. Field, wax and tallow chandlers

Tags

chandler

Street View: 50
Address: 12 Wigmore Street

In a previous post, we saw that the front of number 12 Wigmore Street was covered in scaffolding and that the date for the building work was given as 1820 in Walford’s Old and New London (vol. IV, p. 438). That date, however, could not be right. The house next to number 12 is clearly showing the name of Hetley, glass shade manufacturer, and number 14 is the property of Crace, the interior decorators. Frederick Crace only moved to 14 Wigmore Street in 1827 and in the Tallis Street View of 1839, number 13 was occupied jointly by Hopper, a sculptor and Daniell, a dentist. These neighbours were still there when the census was taken in 1841. The Craces remained at number 14 the rest of the century, Daniell could be found in Wigmore Street till 1843, and Hopper till his death in 1844. Only in the 1851 census do we see Henry Hetley appearing as the occupant of the premises, so he must have moved in sometime after 1844. We can date his appearance in Wigmore Street more precisely to later that decade as the Post Office Directory of 1848 does not yet list him. Hetley and his family probably moved in between October 1848 and April 1850 as the address given in the baptism record of daughter Ellen May is 71 Great Portland Street, but for the next child, Elizabeth, it is 13 Wigmore Street.⁽¹⁾ The Hetleys were certainly still there when daughter Kate was born in 1857, but by 1861, they were living in Islington.⁽²⁾ Number 13 is then occupied by Alexander Stewart, a merchant. So, the scaffolding is most likely from the 1850s.

On to the occupants of number 12 to see if we can work out what happened in the 1850s. Tallis gives J.C. & J. Field as the occupants of number 12; that is: John, Charles and John Field, wax and tallow chandlers. The gentlemen were members of a family that had been in the business of making candles and selling wax and oil since at least 1642 when a Thomas Field founded the firm in Lambeth. Throughout the generations the names of John and Charles keep appearing, so it is difficult to work out exactly who is hiding behind the initials of the firm in any particular year, especially after c.1830 when they decided to leave the name as it then was, irrespective of whoever ran the firm. We will not go into the genealogical details, but will concentrate on the business itself. Their factory was always on the other side of the river in Lambeth and the Wigmore Street address was just a convenient outlet for their wares. In the 1841 census, John Field, a boy of 15, is listed as living at Wigmore Street as wax chandler, but he may very well have been a bit older as the 1841 census is notoriously imprecise as regards age. The rest of the family were living in Upper Marsh, Lambeth.

Advertisement from The Morning Chronicle, 1 December 1821

The Fields had been trading from Wigmore Street since the early 1820s and continued to do so, according to Graces Guide, until 1861. The last advertisement I found for the Fields that mentioned 12 Wigmore Street is from 29 October 1857.⁽³⁾ From the mid-1840s, the Fields shared the Wigmore Street house with Isaac Sheffield, a dentist, originally from Cumberland. Isaac used to have his practice in Museum Street – he can be found there in the 1843 Post Office Directory – but he must have moved to Wigmore Street before 1848 as the next Post Office Directory finds him at number 12. It is unclear whether the Fields remained living in Wigmore Street after Sheffield moved in, or whether they just continued to have their shop there. They are certainly not mentioned in the 1851 census for the property.

trade card (Source: British Museum Collection)

The trade card above must date from somewhere between 1820 and 1830. The advertisement shown for floating lights names J. and C. Field at Wigmore Street in 1821, but by 1830, another J. had been added to the name and the firm was henceforth J. C. & J. Field. The reverse of the card shows a drawing of a candle and stick with a text I cannot quite make out, but which explains something about the wick and it being upright.⁽⁴⁾ It shows – assuming it was a Field who wrote it – that they were always trying to improve on their products and in 1865, for instance, they registered a design for a lighting wick or taper, to be called “Field’s Lighting Wick”.⁽⁵⁾ Their factory in Upper Marsh grew and grew and, as can be seen from the Ordnance Survey map of 1892-95 below, eventually took up all the available space between Upper Marsch, Royal Street and Canterbury Music Hall. In 1941, they moved to Wimbledon and were eventually absorbed in larger conglomerates.

A few more advertisements for the Fields can be found at the end of this post, but first back to 12 Wigmore Street where the changes in occupation described above can perhaps explain the scaffolding; did the Fields alter the building to separate Sheffield’s part of the building from their own? Possibly, although Tallis, in his picture of the building, already shows two entrances on either side of the shop window. But there is another possible explanation: on Sunday 9 November 1845, the Field family went to church and shortly after they had left, the servant who had stayed at home smelled something burning and when she went upstairs to investigate found the place filled with smoke. She raised the alarm and fire engines rushed to the scene. When a fireman was inside the building to assess the situation, there was an explosion in a closet which threw him backwards. It turned out that the fire had started in a closet where rocket cases were stored which somehow ignited. Why they were kept there is not explained in the newspaper report. The furniture in the parlour was destroyed, along with some paintings and the damage was estimated to be £200. According to the paper, Field was insured with the Westminster and Phoenix Fire Offices.⁽⁶⁾ If the rebuilding was delayed because of insurance problems, or because the Fields were trying to decide on what to do with themselves after the fire, it could be that the scaffolding was up in 1848 when Hetley moved in next door. Or, I am talking rubbish here and the reason for the scaffolding had nothing to do with any of these changes, but was up in the 1850s because the building needed some TLC.

1840 registration for one of the John Fields as a member of the Wax Chandlers’ Company

Whatever the reason for the scaffolding, Sheffield had his dentistry at number 12 from the mid-1840s to somewhere in the early 1860s. He most likely moved in after the fire as his name is not mentioned in the newspaper report on the exploding closet. The 1861 census still lists Sheffield’s wife at number 12. Her parents were there as well and so was her brother who is a “dentist’s assistant’. Isaac himself was to be found in Carlisle with his sister Mary. An advertisement in The Newcastle Courant explains the situation: John Sheffield, Isaac’s brother and also a dentist, informs his customers that he is handing over his practice in Carlisle to his nephew, J.G. Robinson, and he also takes the opportunity of this announcement to say that Mr. Sheffield of 12 Wigmore Street would continue to make his periodic visits to Carlisle at Easter, in September, and at Christmas.⁽⁷⁾ The 1861 census was taken on 7 April and Easter fell on 31 March that year, so close enough for Isaac to be away from home for one of his tri-yearly visits to Carlisle. Sheffield is listed at 2 Stratford Place in a list of members of the Odontological Society of London published at the end of 1862, so he must have moved fairly soon after April 1861. He died in 1881 and was buried at Carlisle.

Transactions of the Cumberland & Westmorland Antiquarian & Archaeological Society, 1904

Some advertisements for J.C. & J. Field:

1866 advert from The Art Journal The Illustrated Catalogue of the Industry of All Nations

1867 advert from The Archer’s Register

1907 advert from The Laundry Journal Diary (© London Borough of Lambeth)

(1) Ellen Mary was baptised on 27 October 1848 and Elizabeth on 5 April 1850, both at St. Marylebone.
(2) Kate was baptised on 6 May 1857 at St. Marylebone.
(3) In Freeman’s Journal and Daily Commercial Advertiser for Field’s Patent Parafine [sic] Candles.
(4) I think it says: “The portion of the wick of either a…. … candle would burn … be placed in if found to stand(?) uprightly” Suggestions welcome.
(5) National Archives BT 45/24/4701
(6) The Morning Chronicle, 10 November 1845.
(7) The Newcastle Courant, 7 January 1859.

Neighbours:

<– 13 Wigmore Street (Hopper) <– 13 Wigmore Street (Daniell)

11 Wigmore Street –>

Advertisements

Frederick Crace, Painter to the King

Tags

decorator

Street View: 50
Address: 14 Wigmore Street

The Crace family were famous interior decorators, and although the job description ‘Painter to the King’ in the Tallis index may lead you to think that all they did was either paint the woodwork in the King’s palaces or paint his portrait, you would be doing them an injustice. They were far more than just painters. The Oxford Dictionary of Biography has an entry for the whole Crace family in addition to separate entries for Frederick, John Gregory and John Dibblee. Most of the information used in this post comes from that source, but as they do not show any of the actual decorations the Craces were responsible for, I will add some examples of their work. The family name, by the way, is sometimes rendered as ‘Grace’, as it is in Tallis’s Index to Street View 50, but in all official documents, it is given as ‘Crace’.

But first two pictures of 14 Wigmore Street (renumbered to 38 in 1868 or 1869), a property the Craces used from 1827 to 1899. The first illustration is a 1852 drawing by T.H. Shepherd showing 13-15 Wigmore Street. Davies, the coach maker occupies number 15, and Hetley, glass shade manufacturer, number 13. Davies was already there when Tallis produced his Street Views and we will encounter him in a forthcoming post, but Hetley was not there yet. Tallis has Humprey Hopper, a sculptor, and Neville Daniell, a dentist, jointly occupying number 13. Henry Hetley was the brother of James Hetley of Soho Square who was listed by Tallis and they have been given their own blog post (see here).

Source: British Museum Collection

The second picture shows the same houses as the previous illustration, but also some more on the right-hand side, among them number 12 completely covered in scaffolding. The drawing was depicted in Edward Walford’s Old and New London (vol. IV, p. 438) and alleged that it is Wigmore Street around the year 1820, but that cannot be true. As number 13 shows Hetley’s name, it must have been later than Tallis (± 1839). I will get back to the date of the picture in the post on number 12, but for this post it is enough to see that the Craces had the entrance to their business on the right in what seems to be a small alleyway or porch.

Thomas Crace (c.1690-1774) was a coach builder at Rochester Row and his sons Edward (1725-1799), John I (1728-1806) and Charles (1727-1784) worked in the family business. They designed coach panels and ornaments and Charles even published a book on coach designs. In 1768, Edward changed the business to one of house decorating. In the 1770s, George III made Edward the keeper of the royal collection of paintings, which not only involved cleaning and restoring, but also cataloguing them. John II (1753-1819), the son of Edward, married his second cousin, Ann Gregory, against the wishes of his father with a complete break as a result. John II started his own decorating business in 1776 and was involved in the decorating of Carlton House and the Royal Pavilion at Brighton, assisted by his eldest son. This son by a second marriage, Frederick (1779-1859), inherited the artistic talent of the family and continued the business after his father’s death with the help of two of his brothers and a cousin John III, the son of John I. That partnership was dissolved in 1826, mainly through financial disputes involving one of the brothers, and Frederick and John III started afresh at 14 Wigmore Street in 1827. Under John Gregory (1809-1889), Frederick’s son, and John Dibblee (1838-1919), John Gregory’s son, the firm flourished throughout the rest of the nineteenth century. John Dibblee terminated the business in 1899, but continued as a consultant until World War I.

Frederick continued the collection of maps and views of London his grandfather Edward had begun and which was eventually to comprise some five or six thousand items. He not only collected prints, he sometimes commissioned artists to draw or paint specific buildings or streets. One such was Thomas Hosmer Shepherd whose drawing above of the three houses in Wigmore Street comes from the Crace collection. In 1879, most of the collection of prints was sold by John Gregory to the British Museum. The maps are now deposited in the map room of the British Library. [Postscript: More on Frederic Grace and his collection in the recent blog post on him by Greg Roberts here] John Gregory kept back and continued the collection of plans and views of London churches and these are to be found in Guildhall Library (now in the LMA?).

John Gregory with son and grandson (Source: Wikipedia)

Besides receiving various royal commissions, the Craces tried to improve their income – the royals did not always pay promptly, if at all – and John Gregory started a number of open-house evenings where prospective clients could see the latest designs. It proved a profitable idea and new orders came flooding in. International exhibitions were also a perfect opportunity to entice new clients and Crace exhibited at the 1851 and 1862 exhibitions in London, the 1855 and 1867 exhibitions in Paris, and at the 1857 Art Treasures exhibition in Manchester. The 1851 census has John Gregory at 14 Wigmore Street as a decorator employing 140 persons. Crace often worked with A.W.N. Pugin whose Gothic style matched his own, for instance in the decoration of the Houses of Parliament. From 1862 onwards, John Dibblee took on more and more of the firm’s work, while his father devoted more and more time to travel and study. After his father’s death in 1889, John Dibblee continued for another ten years before he wound up the business to become a consultant. There is much more to say about the lives and designs of all the Craces, but that has already been done in the Oxford Dictionary of Biography and by M. Aldrich (ed.) in The Craces: Royal Decorators 1768-1899 (1990), so, to round off this post, I will just give a few examples of their work, which is, in fact, only a fraction of what can be found online.

In 1851 at the Great Exhibition, a cabinet, or armoire as some would call it, was displayed in the ‘Mediaeval Court’, which was designed by A.W.N. Pugin. It was depicted in the special Art Journal catalogue, the V&A has a design drawing of it, and they also have the cabinet itself which they bought after the exhibition. More information on the cabinet on their website here (click on the ‘More information’ tab).

Cabinet as depicted in The Art Journal Illustrated Catalogue

drawing of the cabinet (Source: Victoria & Albert Museum)

the cabinet itself (Source: Victoria & Albert Museum)

detail of a shield at the top of the cabinet with Crace’s initials

In 1845, John Crace sent a letter to John Harman junior saying that the red wallpaper had been despatched and a few months later Frederick wrote to the same firm to notify them that the green flock wallpaper had been sent (letters in Birmingham Archdiocesan Archives). The Hardmans were a Birmingham firm, best known for their metal work and stained glass. The link between the Hardmans and the Craces was no doubt Pugin who ordered glass from the Hardmans for the Houses of Parliament.

Wallpaper designed by Pugin and made by J.D. Crace (Source: National Trust Collection, Oxburgh Hall, Norfolk)

In 1862, work started on a new Exchange in Liverpool. The Gothic building was designed by Thomas Henry Wyatt in the Flemish Renaissance style and the Newsroom was described as “a noble apartment, free from all obstructions and well-suited for its purpose.” The new building opened in 1867. The photograph below is from the blog ‘Streets of Liverpool’ (see here) and the text describing the interior of the Newsroom is part of an article on the new building in The Morning Post of 22 April 1867.

The Met Museum has a lovely drawing of a stained glass window. It is stamped on the mount John G. Crace & Son / 38 Wigmore Street, W., so it must date from after 1868 or 1869 when the house numbering changed from 14 to 38. The Met dates it as ‘probably 1880s or 90s’.

Source: Met Museum, New York

And last, but not least, the unusual cinquefoil Remigius window in Lincoln Cathedral which was designed by Crace in 1858. R.E. Leary in his 1860 Illustrated Hand Book Guide to Lincoln says that the window was executed by Messrs. Eaton and Butler of London, but that should probably be Heaton, Butler and Bayne of King Street, Covent Garden, who advertised with stained glass windows for churches. An article on the window in The Illustrated London News praises Crace for his “taste and judgement” and “the antiquarian correctness of the design”. Leary goes one better and says that “a richness of ornament and color [is] scarcely exceeded by any of the admirable early specimens which exist in other parts of the cathedral”. What better recommendation would one want for one’s work?

Illustrated London News, 8 January 1859. They did not quite get the details right, but who was likely to complain?

Source: Mattana via Wikimedia Commons [CC BY-SA 3.0]

————-

Neighbours:

<– 15 Wigmore Street

13 Wigmore Street (Daniell) –> 13 Wigmore Street (Hopper) –>

Sir James Colquhoun

Street View: 50
Address: 52 Wigmore Street

A comment on the post for ironmonger Benham at 19 Wigmore Street led to this post on number 52 as the renumbering of house numbers in Wigmore Street at some point in the 1860s changed what was number 52 in Tallis’s time to number 19. If we compare Horwood’s 1799 map for the area, we can see that the house on the corner of Wimpole Street had no. 3, Wimpole Street, as its address and the first three houses from the corner were 51, 52 and 53, Wigmore Street. If we turn to the 1947 Ordnance Survey map, the corner house has become 23, Wigmore Street, and a larger building is depicted in Wigmore Street numbered 17 to 21 where numbers 51-53 had been. The number 19 that Benham occupied, by the way, had been across the road, a little more to the west than the modern number 19.

Horwood’s map (1799)

Ordnance Survey map (1947)

The index for the Street View booklet shows an empty space between the properties for Nicholls, the print seller, at number 51, and Robinson, the auctioneer, at number 53. Instead of the empty space after the number 52 one expects to find the name of a shopkeeper, and if the property had been empty, the word ’empty’ would be the more usual designation as Tallis describes properties without an occupant thus in other booklets. There is, however, an explanation for the omission of the name. From the 1840 Royal Kalendar and Court and City Register and The Edinburgh Almanack of the same year, we learn that number 52 was occupied by Sir James Colquhoun. He apparently did not fall into the category of citizens Tallis wanted to list, that is, shopkeepers and professionals such as surgeons, solicitors or bankers; private citizens seem to have been excluded from the Street View booklets.

A bit of research shows that Sir James had come to London because in 1837 he had been chosen the M.P. to represent the county of Dumbartonshire. Sir James, 4th baronet of Luss, a moderate Whig, won his seat in the election ahead of his conservative competitor Alexander Smollett, but the political landscape in Dumbartonshire changed soon after and at the next election, Smollett won without a contest.⁽¹⁾ Sir James does not seem to have been a very outspoken parliamentarian, at least, I have not found any great reforms or debates that can be put to his name, but he did handsomely convey the condolences of the Dumbartonshire assembly to Queen Victoria on the death of her uncle William IV and their congratulations on her own accession to the throne. The address of the noblemen etc. was published in The London Gazette of 22 August 1837.

The Morning Chronicle of 6 February, 1845, included an advertisement for unfurnished apartments “in the most preferable part of Wigmore-street, consisting of dining room, large and handsome drawing room, with three of four other rooms, or as many as may be required; large kitchen, stone hall and staircase”. The house overlooked the Duke of Portland’s grounds and the highest references could be given. For information, one was to apply at 52 Wigmore Street, which, by the way, does not necessarily mean that the apartment on offer was at number 52. The eccentric 5th Duke of Portland, however, did not like anyone looking into the garden of Harcourt House and it is said that “he had the garden enclosed with a gigantic screen of ground-glass, extending for 200 feet on each side and 80 feet high. His object in having this screen constructed was that the residents of Henrietta-street and Wigmore-street might be prevented from seeing into the garden and possibly catching a glimpse of his Grace when taking a stroll”.⁽²⁾ Not sure when the screen was erected and whether Sir James Colquhoun had his view hampered by the screen, but the back of number 52 certainly overlooked the Duke’s garden. Harcourt House and garden stretched all the way from Cavendish Square to Wimpole Street and you can see it in the Horwood map above indicated by the number 15.

After his spell as M.P., Sir James returned to Scotland and led the not very remarkable life of a Laird, but he was not to die of old age. In December 1873, he led a hunting party to Inchlonaig, an island in Loch Lomond that was owned by the Colquhoun clan and which they used as a deer park. When the party returned from the island after the shoot, their fully laden boat was overturned in a sudden storm and Sir James and four of his attendants were drowned (see here for photos of the island). His only son, also James, dedicated the new parish church in Luss, built in 1875, to his father and a memorial stone can be found in the churchyard for the five victims of the tragedy.

Memorial in Luss Churchyard (detail) (David Dixon) / CC BY-SA 2.0

The Colquhoun clan has its own website (see here) with lots of historical information about the clan members and about the coat of arms of the Colquhouns with the ‘Si Je Puis’ motto.

(1) The History of Parliament Online (see here).
(2) See here and here.

Neighbours:

<– 53 Wigmore Street

51 Wigmore Street –>

John Lee Benham, ironmonger

Tags

ironmonger

Address: 19 Wigmore Street
Street View: 50

John Lee Benham had his business at 19 Wigmore Street, a substantial building on the corner of Welbeck Street. From the vignette he had in Tallis’s Street View, we learn that he was a furnishing ironmonger, a stove manufacturer, and a portable warm & vapor bath manufacturer. An 1857 Old Bailey case in which a policeman was accused of stealing from Benham’s under the guise of patrolling the area, tells us more about the property. John Lee was called as a witness and he relates that the firm was in the processs of incorporating 65 Welbeck Street into the business at Wigmore Street. Number 64 Welbeck Street was already part of the business and workmen were employed to knock out the partition wall. John Lee’s bedroom was on the second floor in Wigmore Street, on the corner of Welbeck Street, and when he was woken up one morning by the ringing of the doorbell, he found the door at number 64 open. The back door of the Benham property opened into Eastley Mews and anyone using a ladder could have got onto “the leads” and hence into the property through one of the windows the builders were working on. Sons Frederick and James gave evidence about petty cash stolen from their respective desks. The policeman was found guilty and transported for life.⁽¹⁾

John Lee was born in 1785 in Reading, Berkshire, the son of Avery Benham (1753-1829), a smith. Avery moved to London in 1791 and set up a tinplate workshop in Commerce Row, Blackfriars Road. John Lee worked for his father until 1817 when he bought his own business in Wigmore Street (then called Edward Street). In 1824, he moved to the former home of the bishop of Chicester at number 19. John’s first wife died giving birth to their second child, leaving him with daughter Emily⁽²⁾. He remarried in 1818 to Jane Kirkpatrick and there were to be seven more children. A basic family tree can be found below. An extented tree with the next generation can be found here as a PDF-file. I offer no pretence at completeness, but it will give you some idea of the various generations. On some family members, more information can be found outside the bare dates of birth and death and these are listed in footnote 3.

(click to enlarge)

elevation from The official Illustrated Catalogue Advertiser (1851)

With the exception of Edward, who became a printer in Colchester, the sons of John Lee came to work in their father’s business and so did some of the grandsons. At some point, a separate partnership was entered into by John Lee, his son Augustus and one Joseph William Froud under the name of Benham and Froud at Chandos Street (later at 170 Regent Street). In 1848, John junior was apprenticed to his brother Augustus, but later came to work in his father’s business. In 1863, John Lee retired from the Froud partnership, but Augustus and Joseph William Froud carried on.⁽⁴⁾ Why it is frequently said that it is not clear whether Benham and Froud had anything to do with the Benham’s of Wigmore Street is a mystery to me. The London Gazette notice about the partnership is clear enough. That the Benham & Froud business was successful, can be seen from the 1871 census where August is described as a coppersmith master, employing 110 men and boys. In 1874, Froud and Benham were mentioned for their improvements in refrigerators.⁽⁵⁾

But back to the business in Wigmore Street. John Lee died in 1864, and the executors were sons James and Frederick.⁽⁶⁾ Various members of the family can be seen living above the property in subsequent censuses, either in Wigmore Street itself, or round the corner in Welbeck Street. At some point in the 1860s, the numbering in the street must have changed as in 1871, James and John Benham can be seen living at numbers 50 and 52 respectively and the business address changes from 19 Wigmore Street to 50 Wigmore Street without an actual move taking place. If we compare the 1799 Horwood map with the 1893 Ordnance Survey map, we can see that the property on the corner of Welbeck Street has developed into a substantial iron works covering most of the inner space in the block with the original property in the right hand lower corner and an additional entrance in Wigmore Street, closer to Marylebone Lane. A photograph of that new entrance can be found here.

1799 Horwood map

1893 Ordnance Survey map

Stanley, John’s son and author of a history of the firm, printed by his uncle Edward’s firm in Colchester, wrote that number 26 Wigmore Street (afterwards nr 66) was taken with “a great deal of land at the back with an entrance to Easley Mews”. There the Benhams “built what was for those days a very fine new factory which was well arranged and had excellent facilities for our class of work”.⁽⁷⁾ Numbers 58-65 Welbeck Street were purchased between 1860 and 1870. The houses were let to medical specialists and large showrooms were built over the gardens. According to Stanley, when John Lee started out for himself, all the manufacturing was at first done by his father in Blackfriars Road, but when the business moved to 19 Wigmore Street in 1824, he started manufacturing his own products. The workshops were in the basement and cellars, the showroom was on the ground floor and John Lee lived on the first floor.

When the Reform Club was built in 1841 by Sir Charles Barry, Alexis Soyer, the head chef at the Club, designed the kitchens and Benham secured the order for fitting them up. All the equipment for the kitchen was produced in Wigmore Street. In 1922, Stanley was asked to advise the Club and he found the original open fire roasting ranges still in use. The Illustrated London News and The Builder both produced illustrations of the new kitchens of the Club, but the latter also illustrated some of the equipment that Benham’s had provided.

Steel engraving of part of the kitchen drawn by G. B. Moore, engraved by W. Radclyffe 1841 (Source: http://www.antique-prints.de)

James died in 1885 and things went downhill from then on. The patent cooking apparatus, one of the steady sellers, was dropped and ambitious new ideas did not work out. According to Stanley “it was absurd to attempt to make large Lancashire steam boilers, calorifiers, pumps, lifts, radiators, etc., in the heart of the West End of London”. Gross mistakes were made in the estimated costs of contracts, and it was found that in one instance, the actual costs of a large contract had exceeded the estimate by 40 per cent. The idea to build showrooms over the gardens was an idea of Frederick, but Stanley doubted that it ever paid. Frederick died in 1891 and the firm was formed into a private company. According to Stanley, his uncle Frederick had been a nice chap, but not strict enough and when Stanley entered the business in 1892, he “found an incredible amount of drunkenness. Quite a dozen or more of the staff and some of the workmen were drinking much too much”. Stanley’s father John died in 1899 and Walter (the son of James) became chairman and some of John Lee’s grandsons directors.

Benham’s mark on a copper pan ±1910 (Source: National Trust Collections, Ham House)

In 1901, there were serious disagreements within the board after troubles over noise from the factory and a subsequent reshuffling of leases in the area, resulting in Percy’s (son of Frederick) resignation. A few months later, Percy’s brother Arthur Howard died. The Frederick side of the family wanted out and in 1907 a new Company was formed with Walter and Stanley as managing directors. The business was moved to Lombard Road, Battersea in 1906, but that site turned out to be too small with the additional naval work acquired, so they relocated the factory to what had been Macmurray’s Paper Mills in Garret Lane. The Benham offices remained at Wigmore Street.

The Navy work gained more prominence and better ranges were developed for on board ships and Benham’s even supplied Captain Scott for his Antarctic Expedition with a stove that could work on burning blocks as well as on whale blubber. In World War I, cooking and baking apparatus, depth charges, aerial bombs and rings for mine sinkers were produced by Benham’s. One night there was a – relatively minor – fire at the factory and the firemen were faced with water jets turning into fire. The stronger the jet, the greater the flames. This was caused by the phosphide of calcium with was used in the anti-submarine devices. War is a dirty business indeed. The family connection with the business ceased in the 1960s and Benham’s became part of Thorn Electrical Industries.

Advert from Murray’s Handbook Advertiser (1864)

Advert for gas lights (Source: Ebay)

**************
Do not forget to look at the comments on this post, especially at the one from the London Museum of Water & Steam who have restored a steam driven pump supplied by the Benhams.
**************

(1) Old Bailey, case t18570105-226.
(2) Emily was to become the second wife of Edward Bean Underhill who wrote, among other things, The West Indies: their Social and Religious Condition, published in 1862 by Jackson & Walford.
(3) Edward Benham, newspaper proprietor and printer (see here).
William Gurney, son of Edward, continued his father’s newspaper and print shop and was knighted in 1895 (see here).
Gertrude Emily, daughter of Frederick, became an intrepid traveller and explorer (see here and R.J. Howgego, Gertrude Emily Benham 1867-1938: a ‘very quiet and harmless traveller’, 2009).
Most of the Benhams were baptists and contributed to the congregation (see here). James Harvey, husband of John Lee’s daughter Jane, was also a baptist and contributed generously to their places of worship (see here).
Charles Henry (1874-1916) was the son of Henry Charles (1847-1922), who was the son of James Benham (1820-1885). Rather than working in the business, Henry Charles and Charles Henry both became medical doctors. Charles served in the Royal Army Medical Corps and his life has been described here.
(4) London Gazette, 13 November 1863.
(5) London Gazette, 24 March 1874.
(6) England & Wales, National Probate Calendar (Index of Wills and Administrations), 1864.
(7) S. Benham, Under Five Generations. The Story of Benham & Sons Ltd (1937).

Neighbours:

<– 20 Wigmore Street

18 1/2 Wigmore Street –>

Humphrey Hopper, sculptor

Tags

art

Street View: 50
Address: 13 Wigmore Street

Humphrey Hopper, sculptor, regularly exhibited at the Royal Academy and from the entries in the Dictionary compiled by Algernon Graves⁽¹⁾, we can see where he lived from 1799 onwards:

1799-1800 : 55 Paddington Street
1801-1805 : 14 New Road, Fitzroy Square
1807-1813 : 3 Edward Street, Portman Square
1815-1834 : 13 Wigmore Street

plaster figurine (Source: 1stdibs.com)

Although he may not have entered any works at the Royal Academy after 1834, he continued to live in Wigmore Street until his death. We can see him sharing the house with Neville Daniell, dentist, in the Tallis Street View and in the 1841 census.

Hopper was best known for his plaster work, often copies of classical figures, but he probably also sold work by others. In 1820, an advertisement in the Morning Post of 26 May announces “A very beautiful copy of Canova’s Venus, of fine marble and exquisite Italian sculpture, lately consigned to this country for sale” which could be viewed at Hopper’s.

Figures of Bacchus, Hebe, Hygeia, Ceres by Hopper (Source: artsalesindex.artinfo.com)

In 1828, an admirer of classical architecture, styling himself simply as E. wrote a letter to the editor of The Morning Post, professing himself pleased with the “restoration of Gothic architecture” by men such as Pugin and Kendal, but finds it surprising that “the interior of our Gothic piles [are] so destitute of those monument which would best harmonize with the character of the super-structure”, but there is hope. He has recently been to Hopper’s and was quite impressed by the Gothic monuments he saw there which “confer credit on the judgment of Mr. Hopper”.⁽²⁾ Who this E. was remains unclear, but it would not surprise me if Hopper had one of his friends write this ‘letter’, or even if he did so himself. I can hardly imagine anyone else writing a favourable review like this. Hopper also put in ‘ordinary’ advertisements for his Gothic monuments for which he “hopes to obtain the patronage” of the “nobility and gentry”. Also ready for delivery are “statuary marbles for plain tablets, fronts, candelabra, &c”.⁽³⁾

wall brackets by Hopper (Source: Christies)

But Hopper did not just make marble figures and monuments to be sold separately; he also provided the models for plaster casts which could be multiplied many times, such as brackets, medallions, or busts. Plaster casts had always been used by artists for teaching purposes, but in the 18th and 19th century, these casts provided a whole new market with a range of ornaments at affordable prices to decorate one’s home.⁽⁴⁾ Although genuine marble or bronze statues and figures remained well beyond the financial means of the general public, (bronzed or marbled) plaster casts, or sculptures in cheaper material brought the classical world to more and more households. In a previous post, we have seen that another branch of sculpture, that of alabaster figurines, brought Italians such as Louis Baronto to London. But plaster was even easier than alabaster. All you needed was a good model from which a mould could be made. The work was considered to be below the ‘true’ artistic creativity and artists tended to keep quiet about this part of their output, although it no doubt provided welcome monetary relief. According to Clifford, “the most commonly encountered Regency plaster casts are those by Humphrey Hopper”. Clifford regards Hopper as “a competent but dull monumental sculptor who produced a range of bronzed and gilded candelabra … to support lamps”.

gilded lamps by Hopper (Source: Christies)

Hopper was the son of Humprey and Margaret Hopper and was baptised on 22 March 1765 at Wolsingham, Durham. Not much is known of his private life, but he seems to have remained single all his life. It is said that he first trained as a mason⁽⁵⁾, but changed to sculpture later on and only started at the Royal Academy Schools in 1801. His contribution to the Royal Academy ranged from busts to chimney pieces and from classical figures to monuments. Hopper died on 27 May 1844 and was buried at Kensal Green on 3 June.

plaster model of a reclining lady by Hopper (Source: Christie’s)

For a later occupant of 13 Wigmore Street, see here.

(1) A. Graves, The Royal Academy of Arts. A Complete Dictionary of Contributors and their work from its Foundation in 1769 tot 1904 (1906), p. 152.
(2) The Morning Post, 1 August 1828.
(3) The Morning Post, 1 June 1829.
(4) Timothy Clifford, “The Plaster Shops of the Rococo and New-Classical Era in Britain” in Journal of the History of Collections, vol. 4 (1992), pp. 39-65. See the Appendix to the article for a long list of Hopper’s output.
(5) A Biographical Dictionary of Sculptors in Britain, 1660-1851

Neighbours:

<– 14 Wigmore Street

12 Wigmore Street –>

Neville Daniell, dentist

Tags

dentist

Street View: 50
Address: 13 Wigmore Street

Before 1858 and the Dentists Act, more or less anyone could claim to be a dentist and that is what Nevill Daniell did. At the time, there was no dental school and although Daniell may have had some training in dentistry and/or surgery, I have not found any evidence. In Tallis’s Street View, he is listed simply as ‘dentist’, but in an 1839 newspaper advertisement he calls himself ‘surgeon-dentist’ and urges his patients to take up the privileges that their annual subscription fee allows them.⁽¹⁾ Subscription customers were entitled to “professional advice and assistance whenever requisite throughout the year”. In 1841, Daniell has an advertisement in The Patriot in which he “invites attention to his peculiar method of treating and supplying teeth” and in which he claims that “practical knowledge with every branch pertaining to the profession of surgical and mechanical dentist, enables him to produce results which the mere theorist cannot effect”.⁽²⁾ That certainly sounds as if he did not have any formal theoretical background to dentistry.

The London Dentist ©British Museum

Competition was fierce and of course those with formal medical training looked down upon the mere mechanic. In 1839, John Gray, himself a dentist, wrote a lengthy piece in The Mechanic’s Magazine which begins thus:

As it is evident that only a duly qualified surgeon is competent to act as a surgeon dentist, and that an experienced practical mechanic, only, can succeed as a mechanical dentist, so it is equally dishonest for a mere surgeon to assume the mechanical department, as for the mechanic to play the quack in the surgical department; indeed there is a much greater distinction between them than is commonly supposed.

He also is of the opinion that mechanical skills can best be acquired before the age of 20 as later in life one can no longer acquire the dexterity, while the knowledge of surgery should only be taught to those older than 20 as that study required “much more serious thought and riper judgement“. In other words, a mechanic may become a surgeon, but a surgeon can never become a good mechanic. And a mechanic who has added the qualification of surgeon to his accomplishments may “legitimately assume the whole range of the profession of a dentist with credit to himself and advantage to his patients”. Mechanical dentistry, according to Gray, is comparable to watch making in its “exquisite execution of minute parts” and the “mechanical dexterity of a clever workman as a clock and watchmaker is requisite for, and can be applied to, the making of artificial teeth”. “Although the making of artificial teeth has been, hitherto, (with very few exceptions) carried on as a trade by rapacious pretenders, yet it is not a trade, but an art of a high order”. He goes on to describe the ideal education for a boy – no girl of course – who wants to become a dentist. If the educational path he proposes is followed, the young man will be ready to become a member of the College at the age of twenty-five. I very much doubt that Gray would have approved of Daniell who was only twenty-four when the advertisement mentioned above appeared in the paper in which he mentions the annual subscriptions, suggesting that he had already been practicing his dentistry for at least a year. ⁽³⁾

Dentist’s chair (Source: hgwebber.com)

In 1839, Daniell had his practice at 13 Wigmore Street, a house he shared with Humphrey Hopper, a sculptor, and we still find him at that address in the 1841 census, but in 1843 he must have moved to 15 Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square. In a notice that he publishes in the London Gazette of 10 May 1844, he says that he has lived there “for twelve months past”. The notice is to tell the public that he intends “to present a Petition to the Court of Bankruptcy, praying to be examined touching my debts, estate, and effects, and to be protected from all process”. He is ordered to appear before the Court on the 10th of July and his creditors are to come forward before that date.⁽⁴⁾ It seemed a bit of bluff on Daniell’s part not to wait for the proceedings to be brought by a creditor and it may have proved a sensible move, but only to postpone and not to avert bankruptcy as in 1852 he is in the Debtor’s Prison as an insolvent debtor. The notice to announce that the prisoner was to be brought before the Court lists his recent addresses and the list is long. He is “formerly of Albert-terrace, Westbourne Green, Paddington, Middlesex, afterwards of Regency-square, Brighton, Sussex, then of High-street, Bloomsbury, Middlesex aforesaid, then of Romford, Essex, then of Francis-street, Tottenham Court-road, and late of Upper Gordon-street, Euston-square, both in Middle-sex aforesaid, during a part of the time of No. 48, Gower-street, Middlesex aforesaid, and Bishop Stortford, Hertfordshire”.⁽⁵⁾ As we know he had at least two addresses before that, which would indicate a move almost twice a year. I do not think that Mr. Daniell was a very good dentist. Either that, or he was a very bad businessman.

Map of Melbourne with Port Phillip and Prahran indicated by the marker (Source: Google Maps)

On the 29th of November, 1852, however, he, his wife Luciana whom he had married in 1840, and his five children (Grace, aged 8, Fanny, aged 6, Margaret aged 4, Gertrude aged 2 and Walter aged 1) boarded the Medway to Australia. The Medway, built in Scarborough in 1845, was owned by Tindall & Co. and under the command of captain Abel Mackwood. Tindall & Co were shipbuilders, shipowners and merchants of Scarborough and London, but they also had their own tea and coffee plantations in Sri Lanka, cleverly combining passengers with their own cargo on the voyage home. The Australian newspaper’s announcement of the arrival on 13 March, 1853, of the Medway in Port Phillip lists the passengers in the cabin class individually, but lumps the ninety passengers in the intermediate and steerage class together without naming them, so we do not know if the Daniells travelled in some comfort, but I somehow doubt it.⁽⁶⁾
Did Daniell intend to continue his dentist activities in the colony, or had he envisaged a totally new future? We do not know and unfortunately, the Daniells were not to enjoy life in Australia for very long; Neville died on 1 July 1854 in Prahran, now a suburb of Melbourne, only 39 years old of “rapid consumption”. His wife Luciana died a few years later. A notice in The Argus of 7 October, 1856, asks anyone with a claim on her estate to come forward. And so ended the all too short life of a mechanical dentist of London.

The Patriot, 19 April 1841

For a later occupant of 13 Wigmore Street, see here.

(1) The Morning Post, 20 December 1839.
(2) The Patriot, 19 April 1841.
(3) Neville was born on 15 September 1815 as the son of Alfred Daniell and Grace Bainbridge. His birth was registered on 12 June 1816 (NA, Kew, Registers of Births, Marriages and Deaths surrendered to the Non-parochial Registers Commissions of 1837 and 1857; Class: RG 4; Piece: 4662)
(4) London Gazette, 2 July 1844.
(5) London Gazette, 30 April 1852.
(6) The Argus, 14 March 1853.

Neighbours:

<– 14 Wigmore Street

12 Wigmore Street –>