G W Riley’s Illustrated Catalogue of designs in Rustic Work from 1895 reveals an astonishing array of garden buildings, furniture and accessories, all constructed out of wood in rustic style.  Based in Herne Hill, a relatively new south London suburb in the 1890s, his workshops and show yards were in Norwood Road, near to the station, enabling potential customers to visit before making a purchase, and for the goods to be despatched by rail to a station close to their homes.

Riley’s summer houses were made to order and took around two weeks to complete. Each design came in a range of sizes, some intended purely for domestic use,  while larger structures are described as ‘suitable for Lawn Tennis grounds, Cricket fields &c or as a shelter in School Gardens, Tea Gardens &c.’  As well as garden buildings, Riley made and sold rustic themed seats, window boxes and arches for climbing plants.  A particular favourite of mine is a rustic porch designed to adorn a front doorway – thereby transforming a suburban house into something more like a country cottage.

As well as the extensive range of rustic works, Riley also sold dog kennels, pigeon and poultry houses, wheelbarrows and lawnmowers.  His catalogue boasts medals for rustic work, including one from the Royal Horticultural Society in the category of Garden Pottery and Rustic Wares.

The inspiration for rustic style has its origins in the Romantic Movement and the English landscape gardens of the 18^th century.  ‘Grotesque architecture, or, Rural amusement:’  first published in 1767, provides an illustrated survey of fashionable garden buildings, including huts, retreats, summer and winter hermitages, and grottos, suggesting these ‘may be executed with flints, irregular stones, rude branches, and roots of trees’.

Rustic style continued its popularity in 19^th century gardens, particularly towards the end of the Victorian period.  The rustic aesthetic embraced the natural shapes of unfinished wood, making these irregular forms a feature of the designs.  According to the Smithsonian Museum, ‘Rustic furnishings and accessories were thought to be especially suited to the garden, as they blended in with the natural landscapes.’

Rustic Adornments for Homes of Taste (1856) by the influential garden writer and journalist Shirley Hibberd (1825 – 1890) reflects an ongoing enthusiasm for all things rustic in the mid 19th century, especially amongst Hibberd’s target audience, the emergent urban middle classes.

The summer house was a rustic adornment Hibberd was especially fond of, devoting a whole chapter to them, and describing these structures as ‘desirable, and indeed almost necessary features in gardens of all dimensions and styles.’  Hibberd reveals that this was his preferred place to write, as long as the weather permitted.

A bit like today’s flat pack furniture, Riley’s summer houses were constructed out of wood in sections, and delivered to customers’ homes to be assembled themselves or with the help of a handyman.   Riley’s catalogue advertises  some of the summer houses as being ‘portable’ and Hibberd sheds some light on why this might have been a desirable feature for some customers.

Hibberd, who was based in London, points out that a significant proportion of people rented their properties, and that additions tenants made to the garden, such as a summer house, could end up belonging to their landlord.  However, a portable structure was classed as a ‘tenant’s fixture’ that the tenant would be able to take with them when they moved on.  Hibberd mentions that some manufacturers (like Riley) had made this kind of summer house a speciality.  Hibbert observes:

‘Too many of us, alas, cannot afford, except on our own freehold, to spend a large sum of money on the erection of a summer-house, and then on the expiration of a tenancy to have to leave it behind. It is clear, therefore, that we want something of a more portable nature, something, in fact, that will answer the purpose of the expensive permanent summer-house and yet remain the property of the tenant. Happily we have long been able to gratify this wish, for several manufacturers of repute have made the tenant’s fixture or portable summer-houses a speciality. Those, therefore, who have a few pounds only to spend on the luxury of a summer-house can easily obtain what they require ready made and quite complete for placing in any position in the garden.’

To modern taste, Riley’s rustic work can appear ersatz; a suburban version of rusticity.  It’s easy to be dismissive of these late 19th century designs, but taste is highly subjective, and as a city dweller myself, their appeal is understandable.  As towns and cities expanded in the 19^th century, becoming industrial centres, city dwellers would have welcomed reminders of nature and the countryside in their gardens, even if they were inauthentic.

Because Riley’s rustic work was made largely out of unfinished wood, and destined to be placed outside in all kinds of weather, it would seem unlikely that any examples have survived.  However, the Folly Flaneuse, a fellow blogger, has found remarkable examples of garden buildings in a similar style by makers Henry and Julius Caesar, Rustic House Builders from Knutsford, in Cheshire, which are still standing.  So, perhaps some of Riley’s rustic work is out there, waiting to be discovered.

Links to this and other sources below:

Further reading:

G. W. Riley: Illustrated catalogue of latest designs in rustic work here

Grotesque architecture, or, Rural amusement here

Smithsonian Gardens here

Rustic Adornments for Homes of Taste (1895) here

The Folly Flaneuse: Henry and Julius Caesar, Rustic House Builders here

As Valentine’s Day approaches, I was delighted to happen across these satirical prints depicting romantic dramas.  Produced by various artists and published in London, mostly in the late 18th century, they are now part of the British Museum’s collection.  All set in parks and gardens, this pleasing combination of love and horticulture seems singularly appropriate to the season.

With the cultural constraints imposed on personal interactions between the sexes in this period, it’s not difficult to see why lovers might have preferred to conduct their encounters out of doors, away from the inquisitive eyes and ears of the household.  The garden, with its avenues and groves, was a perfect place to escape observation; to stroll, or sit together for a while on a conveniently placed bench, and enjoy some privacy.

A range of romantic motivations is revealed by the characters in these prints.  Some innocent individuals long for love, whilst others appear ambivalent about the nature of the attentions they are receiving.  The English taste for innuendo is evident in the scenes of illicit meetings and predatory searches for a partner.  The absurdity of lovers’ behaviour to the eyes of outsiders is a constant theme, either witnessed by onlookers, or by the viewer.

For those of us interested in gardens of the past, these prints reveal a multitude of garden features – a series of beautiful painted wooden benches in various styles are my particular favourites.  Details of the lovers’ clothes are also fascinating.  But now, let us go to the garden, take a walk amongst the flowers and learn love’s lessons:

There’s a suggestion that Willy of the Dale might not be entirely sincere when he pats the cheek of his female companion and steals a kiss as they stand by the water’s edge – and perhaps Damon the gardener’s gift of a posy of flowers is not quite the innocent transaction it appears; he seems to expect something in return from Phillis, his young companion.

The seated woman in Persuasion seems ambivalent about the garland of flowers she is receiving from her kneeling admirer.

However, in The Thorn, the young man’s proposal in the garden, with its winding pathway and trellis shelters, is accepted.

Here, music is used as a metaphor for harmony in love.  The man plays the flute as his partner holds up the book of music for him to read, whilst resting her hand on his knee.  The black and white print appears to be a later version of the theme.

The Park, or the most fashionable dress for the year 1777 shows a young woman dressed in blue silk with a red parasol, with a smart young couple and their dogs walking along a tree lined avenue, populated with regularly spaced benches for those who need to rest or converse.   Here, the park is a place to dress up and be seen, and perhaps make new introductions.

A Scene in Kensington Gardens features a somewhat awkward meeting between two lovers, as a woman in riding dress, and a dog, look on.

‘A young man in simple dress, clutching the edge of his coat in one hand and his hat in the other, kissing a fashionably-dressed lay who holds a fan, watched by a gentleman who stands on the right, hands in his pockets, laughing; in a garden with a wall and columns behind.’ British Museum

A certain urgency in the search to meet a partner is clear in Jack on a Cruise where a young woman pursued by a sailor gives a coy, but knowing, look to the viewer.  The British Museum commentary notes the grand nature of this garden setting – ‘an urn with serpents sits on a high rectangular pedestal under a large tree, and in the distance is a pavilion in the form of a temple with a dome, pediment, and Corinthian columns.’

‘Beneath the title is engraved, ‘From Pope’s favourite Poem of January and May, or the Merchant’s Tale, from Chaucer’. A garden scene. A young woman (right) kneels on the back of her blind old husband, who stoops down, clasping the trunk of a pear-tree to support her that she may reach her lover who sits in its branches leaning towards her. The old man is dressed in an old-fashioned manner, with wide cuffs; the other two are fashionably dressed: she wears a feathered hat and long elbow-gloves; the anchor of Hope is suspended from her neck on a ribbon. He wears boots with deep tops, and a round hat. In the background (right) is a piece of water crossed by a wooden bridge with Chinese rails. Beneath the design are engraved eight lines from Pope, beginning, ‘At least kind Sir, for Charity’s sweet sake / Vouchsafe the Trunk between your arms to take,’. (She is pregnant, and has deceitfully asked her doting husband to help her to reach a pear for which she craves.)’ British Museum

In London, close to King’s Cross, a tea house with public gardens called Bagnigge Wells became notorious towards the end of the 18^th century as a centre for prostitution and both these prints show women dressed elaborately to attract customers.

‘Two finely dressed prostitutes in the grounds of the pleasure garden with a fountain playing in the background.’  British Museum

‘A young man, probably an apprentice, in fashionable but ill-fitting dress, stands smoking between two prostitutes, who berate him, arms akimbo. In the background is the fountain, water spouting from a swan.’  British Museum

The theme of the seductress is continued in A Man Trap, where a woman with a magnificent hat and apricot coloured shoes reclines on a garden seat.  Looking provocatively at the viewer, the sign to her right reads ‘Spring Guns’, indicating the young men she seeks to attract.  The association of gardens with nefarious activity continued into the 19^th century, with Vauxhall Gardens eventually closing its gates, in part due to its poor moral reputation.

‘Two fashionably-dressed young women walking in a garden, the one on the left holding a love letter; a large house in the background to left and a bench in the distance to right.’  British Museum

The young woman in The Musing Fair is reading a book called ‘The Farmer of Englewood Forest’ – and perhaps hoping she might meet a similar kind of man one day?

Has the pensive looking woman in Reflections in a Flower Garden experienced disappointment in love?

‘A girl standing weeping in a garden holding her apron to her eyes, seeing a peacock lying dead, fallen from a wall on the left.’  British Museum

Peacocks, originally from India, were popular as living adornments to the gardens of country houses in the 18th century and it would seem likely that some owners became personally attached to their birds, as well as appreciating their decorative qualities.  This strangely out-sized bird appears to have met its death by falling off a wall (according to the British Museum commentary) – perhaps its wings were clipped so it couldn’t fly away from the garden?

Hoping your Valentine’s Day is a happy one.

Further reading:

These prints are from The British Museum’s vast online collection here

More about Bagnigge Wells from A London Inheritance here