Introduction
I am greatly indebted to the readers of Hertfordshire Countryside, following the publication of my series of articles about the Hertfordshire firm of James Pulham and Son over the last four issues. I have received a number of telephone calls and e-mails about things of which I had hitherto been unaware, and I am extremely grateful to all those who took the trouble to contact me. Together with one or two of those amazing coincidences that seem to have figured so largely in my research so far, they have enabled me to fill in some further gaps in my knowledge, and I thought it may be of interest to bring the series up to date with some notes on the latest revelations that have come to light.
The ‘Broxbourne / Paris Vase’
Fig 5.1 – The ‘Broxbourne / Alexandra Vase’ (The photograph on the right is reproduced by permission of Chilstone Garden Ornaments)
The first to call was Mrs Elenora Johnson. She was intrigued by my picture of the ‘Broxbourne Vase,’ mentioned in my article about the Broxbourne Manufactory, published in the February issue. It is reproduced again here as the lithograph picture in Fig 5.1.
Mrs Johnson always reads the Hertfordshire Countryside with interest, and, as an incredibly enthusiastic gardener, and also subscribes to another magazine, The English Garden. She received her copy of the February issue of that magazine a few days after reading my article on the Pulhams’ manufactory, and was amazed to find a photograph of a vase that looked exactly like the one I described as the ‘Broxbourne Vase’. She crosschecked all the details she could see, and was so convinced about it that she phoned me to say she thought she had re-discovered it! The only differences were that it was referred to as the ‘Alexandra Urn’ in the photograph, and the two cherubs shown sitting on top of the ammonite ‘handles’ in the lithograph were missing in the photo.
The English Garden article was a piece about the firm of Chilstone Garden Ornaments, based near Tunbridge Wells, in Kent, who have perfected a process of reproducing historical garden furniture and ornaments from reconstituted sandstone moulded in glass fibre moulds. I hope they won’t mind me describing this as a sort of 21st century Pulhamite, and our thanks are due to them for granting permission to reproduce the photographs here in Fig 5.1 and Fig 5.2, so that you can make the comparisons for yourself.
Fig 5.2 – The reverse side of the ‘Alexandra Urn,’ and an illustration of the Paris Vase, taken from the Pulham Catalogue c1925)
I contacted Chilstone to discover how they managed to get the vase to copy, and was told that they had been sent the sample by a local authority ‘somewhere in England,’ with a request to duplicate it. Unfortunately, I can never disclose exact locations for fear of subsequent thefts of artefacts, but it was apparently one of a collection that had resided in a local park, and the council wanted to replace some that had been damaged or destroyed over the years, and this was the result. They always thought that the original was a Pulham item, but had no idea of its proper name, and someone decided to call it the ‘Alexandra Urn’. There was no real reason for them to suspect that the cherubs were missing, since the breaks on the ammonites were quite clean.
The ‘Broxbourne Vase’ had always been a mystery to me, since this lithograph is the only evidence of its existence I have seen. I have never been able to discover if any still survived, or, if they did, where they might be found, but this was really not too surprising in view of the time that had passed since they were first made. I checked my copy of Pulhams’ catalogue, published c1925, and it contained no illustration of this exact vase, although there was one that came very close. It therefore made sense to assume that it was probably one of the first vases made in the firm’s Broxbourne manufactory, and so named after its birthplace.
Peter Fiddler, of Chilstone, then sent me a copy of one of the firm’s catalogues, and I was intrigued to see that it contained not one, but two photographs of their copy of the ‘Alexandra Urn’. I then realised for the first time that the panel on the reverse of the vase was different to that on the front. You can see this in Fig 5.2.
So it was back to the Pulham Catalogue again, and, this time, I found what I was looking for. There, on Page 17, was an illustration of the ‘Paris Vase’ – also shown here as a comparison in Fig 5.2. The Pulhams often used to name their ornamental products after the town or estate for which they were originally produced, so it is quite possible that this was made for exhibition at the Exposition Universal in Paris, in 1867, and that some were then installed in the park in which they, or their descendants, now stand.
All of this means that it is now possible to put some flesh on the bones of this story. According to the Catalogue, the Paris Vase is 4ft high and 3ft in diameter, standing on a plinth 1ft 7ins square. Its pedestal is 3ft 3ins high, so it is obviously a very imposing piece, standing over 7ft tall. Just as impressive, perhaps, is that the Catalogue price of the vase was £32 in those days, and the pedestal was 16gns, although I haven’t bothered to calculate what that is equivalent to in today’s money.
A Second Call from the Blue
My second caller was Mr Philip Thomason, of Thomason Cudworth, a Somerset firm of craftsmen who specialise in the restoration of terracotta. He had noticed the lithograph of the fountain that played at the entrance to the Horticultural Gardens at the Great Exhibition of 1862 – also included as part of Fig 2.3 in my February article, and reproduced again here as the top half of Fig 5.3.
It has long been assumed that this fountain had been lost or destroyed, but Mr Thomason claimed that he had personally restored it a few years ago. It apparently came to him in a very dilapidated condition from somewhere in the Isle of Wight, but he was able to restore it, and also remake the missing figures. The sad news is that it is now in America, but at least we know it’s safe!
Mr Thomason was kind enough to send me a photograph of a detail from the fountain, shown here as the comparative update in Fig 5.3. Here we can clearly see the four putti, each holding a serpent through whose mouths the water of the fountain flows. If one checks back to the February article, and looks at the small domestic fountain pictured in Fig 2.7, one will also see that the candy twist column is almost – but not quite – the same as the ones shown here.
Fig 5.3 – The Kew Entrance Fountain, and a Detail of a Restoration by Thomason Cudworth (Photo reproduced by permissions of Philip Thomason)
Mr Thomason also sent me a picture of another Pulham piece that went through his works. It is a brilliantly lit comparison to the Paris Vase shown above, and is shown in Fig 5.4. Here again, the vases are almost identical, but not quite, which illustrates how the company used to adapt their artwork, and produce several variations on the same theme. Unfortunately, this second vase is not shown in their Catalogue, so it is not possible to put a name to it, but at least it still features the cherubs sitting on top of their ammonite ‘seats.’
Fig 5.4 – An un-named Pulham Vase restored by Thomason Cudworth
The Temple Gardens Tazza
Fig 5.5 – The Temple Gardens Tazza – somewhere in Hertfordshire
I then got a call from a gentleman who knew of a garden where I could find a pair of Pulham vases ‘in excellent condition’, but, for security reasons, I shall not reveal his name, or that of the lady who owns the vases. Suffice to say here that I visited the garden, and was able to identify the vases quite clearly from the Pulham Catalogue. They are what Pulhams called the ‘Temple Gardens Tazza,’ due to their shallow form, and they really are in excellent condition, as one can see here from Fig 5.5. They are still as smooth as silk to the touch, and a joy to see.
It is difficult to identify the actual ’Temple Gardens’ after which these vases were named, although it is possible that it may have been the ‘legal district’ of London, but, wherever it was, it is quite certain that their present owner paid a lot more than the catalogue price of £6 – 5s – 0d when she bought them at auction some thirty years ago.
Carpenders Park, Watford
. . . And then I got an e-mail from Neil Hamilton – no, not that Neil Hamilton – who lives near Watford. He had just read my article about the firm’s Early Gardens – published in the March issue – and immediately recognised the style as being very similar to some features left along the Hartsbourne stream, which originates from a few springs near Bushey, and finishes up in the Colne, near Watford. He writes:
Fig 5.6 – The Waterfall in Carpenders Park
‘It enters the grounds of the old (Carpenders) estate via an old culvert beneath Oxhey Lane, then beneath what is left of an old ornamental bridge. It then drops down what I believe would have been several sluices – there is evidence that they were able to block them in the old days. Some of the rendering has come away from one of the sluices – shown here in Fig 5.7 – and it is just possible to make out the date of 1851 or 1854 carved into the stonework.
‘The owner of the estate at this time was Jonah Smith-Wells. Robert Carew purchased the mansion and grounds from him later on. The stream then flows for another 2/300yds through the grounds, before entering what would once have been an ornamental fishpond, and then drops some 10-15ft down the waterfall (shown in Fig 5.6.) It then passes over several more ornamental landscaped features before leaving the estate.
‘The area in which all of the landscaping exists is within an area that was known as the Woodwalks when the estate was in private hands. Old maps show summerhouses and more bridges across the stream – all long gone. It is fortunate that the land was subject of compulsory purchase in the early 1950s – for use as a cemetery by Wembley council – otherwise all of the features may well have been lost.’
Neil Hamilton used to be a Community Police Officer for the Carpenders Park area, and became sufficiently interested in it to research its history. It appears that Robert Russell Carew purchased the mansion at Carpenders Park in 1862, and made his fortune in India growing sugar, from which he produced gin and rum.
Fig 5.7 – One of the artificial rockwork cascades in Carpenders Park
This is fascinating stuff, because this was the first time that I had ever heard of any Pulham work in Carpenders Park, which means that the work must have been done sometime after 1877 – the year in which James 2 published his booklet entitled ‘Picturesque Ferneries and Rock Garden Scenery’. This booklet contained a list of the firm’s satisfied clients up to that date, but no mention was made in that of either Carpenders Park or Robert Carew.
Neil’s comment about an inscription date is interesting, as it was not unknown for a Pulham foreman in charge of a project to carve his initials and date of completion into the surface of the cement. Since the dates of 1851 or 1854 are unlikely, perhaps the work was actually done in ’1891′ or ’1894.’
This is a matter that requires some further research, but, in the meantime, I am going to stick my neck out, and suggest that the landscaping was done in 1891, a year in which Robert Carew is known to have made some generous donations towards the restoration and refurbishment of St Matthew’s Church, in nearby Oxley. That may look like a fanciful connection, but he was obviously a man who didn’t mind donating money for the benefit of the community, and it’s the best I can come up with at this short notice . . .
Conclusion
I am very conscious of the fact that I would not have been able to write these notes had it not been for the enthusiastic help and encouragement that I have received from readers of this magazine. In fact, they are the latest examples of the sort of information that has come my way since embarking on my research into the lives and work of James Pulham and Son over the last few years, and I am always grateful for the tremendous support that I have received from so many wonderful people.
Please keep the messages coming in. You can always contact me on 01707 323391; e-mail me at claude@hitching.net, or write to me at 11 Asquith House, Guessens Road, Welwyn Garden City, Herts, AL8 6QA, and I shall be delighted to hear from you. And don’t forget to keep an eye on my website at www.pulham.org.uk – you never know when it might include a reference to the information that you have provided . . .
© Claude Hitching – March 2004
