WorthPoint member Rose W. purchased a desk at an estate sale for what she thought was a great price. She liked its unusual design and it seemed just the thing to use for a computer desk. But when she saw a similar desk and learned that it was really a piano, she started looking at her desk in an altogether different light. Not knowing exactly what she had, she contacted WorthPoint’s Ask a Worthologist service to find some answers.

WorthPoint member Rose W. purchased a desk at an estate sale for $275. It was its unusual design caught her eye, and it seemed just the thing for a computer desk she could use with her laptop. Looking around at an auction sale recently she spotted what she thought was another desk, to her surprise it was actually a piano and not a desk. Back at home she re-examined her desk and it appears that her desk was once a piano as well. She’s not so sure now she got a good deal on her desk because it’s a “made up piece.” She plans on keeping it, but is interested in finding what she can about it and if it was worth what she paid for it. She contacted WorthPoint’s “Ask a Worthologist” service to inquire about this piece and her inquiry was forwarded to me, here’s her question.

“I’ve always enjoyed buying things at estate sales and auctions for my house and had recently been looking for an antique desk to use with my laptop. All of the modern computer desks clashed with my antiques, so I spent quite while finding a desk that would fit in. The one in the image I sent was perfect, as I could close my laptop, flip the desk closed and it went from home office to antique in a couple of seconds.

“I was quite pleased with this desk, as I thought I had a good deal at $275, at least until I saw what I thought was an identical desk at an auction last month. I was surprised to discover that it wasn’t a desk at all, but a actually a piano. So, it seems now my desk isn’t antique, but a made up piece. I’d like to know what you can tell me about it and if I got the deal I thought I had.”

Here’s my response:

Spinet desks are of two types: factory made pieces, dating from the 1920s through ’40s, or conversions made from Victorian square case pianos. Based on your images, this piece is of the second type. The original Spinet desks were originally made from circa 1840 pianos, converted into desks during the 1920s through the 1940s, when their internal works were beyond repair. Their rosewood and mahogany veneered cases and square design were seen as “old fashioned” at the time, but they was also believed to be too valuable to throw out.

While conversions of this type are sometimes frowned on, the conversions to these pianos into desks were performed so long ago, they’ve now been desks for as long as they were originally pianos.

In the current market, these Spinet conversion desks often sell for good deal more than you paid for yours, even at auction. In the shops, it’s not uncommon to find similar desks retailing in the $650-$850 range.

Mike Wilcox, of Wilcox & Hall Appraisers, is a Worthologist who specializes in Art Nouveau and the Arts and Craft movement.

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WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

https://www.worthpoint.com/askWorthologist/index

This is the trademark adopted by the Furniture Manufacturers Association of Grand Rapids in 1899. From the time of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in1876 to the beginning of the American Depression in the late 1920s, the Grand Rapids furniture community considered itself to be the center of the furniture universe. And in many respects it was.

Common wisdom in the furniture trade says that anything made in Grand Rapids is “good stuff.” Is that true? Perhaps, but like so many other things, there is always a “but.”

In this case, the “but” is “made when and by whom in Grand Rapids?” There was a time when the term “Grand Rapids” associated with any piece of furniture implied the top-of-the-line merchandise, where quality was assured. Is that always the case?

In 1913, the publication “The Grand Rapids Furniture Record,” the trade publication for the Furniture Manufacturers Association (FMA) in Grand Rapids, Mich., ran a feature article exposing the fraud of a Spokane, Wash., retail furniture company. The fraud? Calling itself the “Grand Rapids Cash Furniture Company,” implying that its furniture was actually made in Grand Rapids. In 1919, the FMA successfully sued a number of retail outlets in the Cleveland area for using the name “Grand Rapids” even though it didn’t sell Grand Rapids-made items.

What was so important about safeguarding the use of the name of a geographic location? Because from the time of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in1876 to the beginning of the American Depression in the late 1920s, the Grand Rapids furniture community considered itself to be the center of the furniture universe. And in many respects it was.

How an obscure fur trading post of the early 19th century, located in the wilds of southwestern Michigan, became one of the premier furniture manufacturing centers of all time is an interesting story of hard work, determination and luck.

This was one of the most famous labels to come out of Grand Rapids.

Here is the crown label for the Imperial Furniture Co of Grand Rapids along with the Mahogany Association label that shows the Imperial membership number of 123.

This label was used by the Fred Macey Co after Otto Wernicke returned to Grand Rapids after leaving Globe-Wernicke in Cincinnati. Wernicke acquired Macey and continued to make elastic bookcases based on his original patents, in competition with Globe-Wernicke.

The first business to produce the furniture that Grand Rapids would become famous for—factory produced pieces using power machinery and marketed in distant locales—was a factory started in 1849 by Ebenezer Ball. Ball shipped lumber and chairs down the Erie Canal into upstate New York. By 1850, he had a contract to furnish 10,000 Windsor chairs to single buyer in Chicago! That’s a long ways from Haldane’s one-of-a-kind chairs from only a few years earlier.The first cabinet shop in Grand Rapids was opened in 1836 by an Ohio woodworker, supplying local needs for chairs and beds, working for cash or barter. But the woodworker, a man named Haldane, was not the precursor of the industry that evolved. Haldane made furniture the old fashioned way—one piece at a time, completely by hand. But big change was on the way. By that time, Lambert Hitchcock had been running his machine-driven assembly line chair factory in Connecticut for nearly 20 years and the process was widely understood and accepted in the industry.

In 1857 the first member of a soon-to-be-famous furniture family moved to Grand Rapids. Unlike many cabinetmakers of this transitional period in American furniture history, he was quite amenable to the power-machine factory idea. His name was Widdicomb and the John Widdicomb Co. still survives in Grand Rapids.

In addition to enterprising factory owners and ingenious machine-makers like Charles Buss, who made power planers for the factories, Grand Rapids was blessed with a rare combination of natural assets. It was surrounded by millions of acres of both softwood and hardwood forests and the nearby Grand River provided the route for transporting it all. Timber was felled in the forests and floated down river to the saw mills, which turned out lumber for houses, wagons and furniture. Extra finished lumber was floated further downstream for sale.

This brass tag identified a piece of furniture with its unique serial number as having been made by a member of the Grand Rapids Furniture Makers Guild.

Attracted by the combination of resources a pair of brothers arrived in Grand Rapids to establish themselves. Julius and William Berkey were responsible for a number of important furniture companies that bore their name. The first was the William A. Berkey Co., which was later purchased by Widdicomb. Then Julius had a number of partnerships, including Berkey & Hamm and Berkey & Matter (another famous name) before joining his brother in a new venture simply called Berkey Bros. & Co. When George Gay joined the firm, it became Berkey Bros. & Gay and later was incorporated as just the famous Berkey & Gay, which dominated the Philadelphia Exposition with its Renaissance Revival battleship-size hotel bedroom furniture. By the 1870s, the three leading companies in Grand Rapids were Berkey & Gay, Phoenix, and Nelson, Matter.

Berkey & Gay and Nelson, Matter gradually eliminated the lower levels of their furniture and concentrated on the high-end of factory made furniture. Phoenix maintained a low-cost line for many years.

The Fine Arts Furniture Co worked in Grand Rapids from 1925 to 1977 making occasional tables and chairs.

Around the turn of the 20th century, other famous names began to show up in Grand Rapids. Among them were Stickley Brothers, started in 1891 by Albert and John George Stickley—two of Gustav’s younger brothers. Arts & Crafts powerhouse Charles Limbert established his company in 1894. Stuart Foote started Imperial Furniture Co. in 1903 and Robert W. Irwin acquired Royal Furniture, then Phoenix and merged them into the Robert W. Irwin Co.

Around this time, the term “Grand Rapids” became solidly associated with high-quality furniture, and that’s when the FMA began to feel the need to protect itself and the reputation of the city against impostors trying to take advantage of the name. The first effort to positively identify Grand Rapids furniture as the genuine article began in 1899, when the FMA developed the red triangular trademark known as the “Grand Rapids Made” logo. This mark appeared on every piece of furniture made by FMA members from 1899 to 1913. This was followed in 1931 by the formation of the Grand Rapids Furniture Makers Guild. The Guild cooperatively marketed members’ products to a selected number of retailers, assuring them a constant supply of guaranteed Grand Rapids Furniture. To each piece of Guild furniture was affixed a brass tag certifying it as a product of “True Grand Rapids Cabinet Making” and each piece was individually registered with the Guild.

The cover of Christian Carron’s book mentioned above shows the type of “battleship” furniture made by Berkey & Gay about the time of the 1876 Centennial Exposition

After the Second World War, Grand Rapids declined in importance as the major furniture center of America, but it continues today to produce a smaller quantity of high-end goods.

So, is Grand Rapids origination a guarantee of high quality? Probably, but, like I said, you still need to know when it was made and by whom in Grand Rapids to know for sure.

For detailed information on the history of Grand Rapids and the companies that made it great, see “Grand Rapids Furniture: The Story of America’s Furniture City” by Christian Carron, published by the Public Museum of Grand Rapids.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This cocktail table even came with a glass serving tray. But because a cocktail was frowned upon by a portion of the society, it was renamed a “coffee” table, which was more socially acceptable. (Fred Taylor photo)

Most Americans alive today did not live through the Great Depression of the late 1920s and 1930s, and for that we can be glad—ask anyone who did live through it—it was a tragic and sad time. But, like most bad times, it did have a few bright spots and some of those are with us today.

The period not only left us with a legacy of factory-made family heirlooms—many of which are regarded as true antiques by some today—the era left us with new additions to the vocabulary, some of which expired during the War years and later, but some of them survive today with the rekindled interest in the furniture and forms of the period.

Lifestyle words like Prohibition, speakeasy, bath tub gin and flapper come to mind (late 1920s & early ’30s), as do governmentally generated ideas like the NRA (National Recovery Act), the WPA (Works Project Administration), the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) and the New Deal. And, of course, there were darker words like breadline, soup kitchen and the match girl that reflect the desperation of the times. Just as the previous examples, there is an entire furniture vocabulary related to Depression-era furniture that may come in handy somewhere down the line. Here are just a few:

This little sewing box was a mainstay in Depression households. (Fred Taylor photo)

Priscilla: This is a small, lightweight stand with a slanted top that lifts on both sides, used as a sewing cabinet. There is a handle above the lift-top for carrying the stand. This ubiquitous sewing stand was named after a very popular treadle sewing machine of the early 20th century. In the 1920s, the company published a sewing magazine called “Modern Priscilla” and makers of the sewing stand adopted the name.

Borax: The term “borax furniture” means the extremely cheaply made but showy furniture aimed at the bottom of the Depression market. It was usually made of gum or poplar wood, which was painted in a yellowish wash. Then the pattern of fancy veneer was actually printed onto the surface and router lines produced an “engraved” look on the printed surface.

This Art Modern bedroom set is veneered in the distinctly striped “Oriental walnut.” (Fred Taylor photo)

Oriental Walnut: Literature of the period frequently refers to the wood used in a piece as
“Oriental walnut,” an easily recognized geometrically striped wood that almost looks artificial in its uniformity and used extensively in Art Moderne furniture. However, the wood was neither oriental nor walnut. In fact, it grows only in the coastal region of Queensland Australia. The technical name is Endiandra palmerstonii and is not even in the wood family we commonly refer to as “walnut.”

Antimacassar: This term actually was in use before the Depression era but it became more common then, when new fabric for upholstery was too expensive. The term refers to the cover many meticulous homemakers put on the top back of upholstered furniture to protect the fabric. Men’s hair styles of the day ran to the “wet look,” which was achieved by the use of various scented oils. The original oil was supposedly imported from the Macassar district of the island of Celebes, but other oils—such castor oil—were often used in its place.

The vertically striped trim below the drawer is veneerite, printed paper glued to the surface. (Fred Taylor photo)

Veneerite: This is the predecessor of the notorious “photo finish” of the 1980s. Similar to the borax process, the imprint of fancy veneer is printed onto thin paper and the paper is then glued to the wood, producing the look of elaborate edge banding and inlay without the expense—not really a premium product but it was creative for the time and allowed a richer look for folks who couldn’t afford the real thing.

Coffee Table: This common phrase ordinarily doesn’t bring the Depression era to mind, but that’s where it originated. The 18th Amendment—Prohibition—prompted the form. During Prohibition, a great deal of America’s liquor was homemade and it had an abominable taste. Thus, the development of the highball—the mixture of alcohol with a pleasant-tasting drink to mask the flavor. This was the “cocktail.” When Prohibition was repealed in 1933, furniture manufacturers were quick to market a low profile “cocktail” table for the newly legalized drink. The backlash against the practice of publicly marketing what everyone wanted in private led to the manufacturers renaming their tables as socially acceptable “coffee” tables.

This stand with ashtray, cigarette or cigar holder and metal lined tobacco storage space was a common site in Depression era homes. (Fred Taylor photo)

Smoking Stand: Another vice of the period created a form that appears in almost every antique store and mall—the smoking stand with the accompanying ashtray, often equipped with a metal lined storage compartment for tobacco. Smoking stands had been popular since the turn of the century, but manufacturers during the Depression placed special emphasis on small specialty items, such as magazine racks and tea carts, to get people who couldn’t buy a complete dining room or bedroom set to at least buy something. The stand became an art form in itself and some are highly prized today, even if the original reason for their existence is in decline.

There are many more terms, phrases and forms from the Depression era that are important today and can be found in the following books, among others:

“Furniture of the Depression Era,” by Harriett and Robert Swedberg, published by Collector Books.

“Popular Furniture of the 1920s and 1930s,” from Schiffer Books.

“American Manufactured Furniture,” by Don Fredgant, also published by Schiffer.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This turn of the century English oak desk demonstrates the difference between English brown oak and American Golden Oak.

America has had several periods that might be called the “Golden Age” where furniture was concerned. The 18th century saw great art in isolated locations like Newport, R.I. and New York. The Federal period of the early 19th-century saw a prolific expansion of American furniture craftsmanship, but it was, after all, dependent a great deal on English designers. Then there was the great Rococo Revival period that rehashed 18th-century French extravagances, followed by the Renaissance Revival that celebrated architectural concepts. Even the great “people’s style” of Arts and Crafts began in England and was based on medieval English traditions.

So when was America’s true Golden Age? It began in the 1870s as a confluence of four major events. The first was the increasing scarcity of walnut, used so prolifically in Victorian styles for three quarters of a century, followed by the prosperity of America following the Civil War. The American middle class emerged from the war hungry for some “status.” This all occurred as the American furniture industry became increasingly mechanized and the concept of “mail order” began to take hold.

Wealthier families acquired bigger houses and they wanted bigger furniture to fill them. Renaissance Revival filled that void for a time, with its “battleship” furniture. But by then, the ready supply of walnut was running out. What was next? Why, our old friend, oak.

Oak was one of the first woods used in the Colonies for furniture and was used in great quantities for building ships. It had not been a very popular wood for refined furniture construction since the Jacobean period of the 17th century in England, although that was about to change.

Some of the earliest great oak furniture was designed by the likes of George Hunzinger and handmade and elaborately hand-carved by such masters as Robert J. Horner. The natural beauty of these pieces—and the oak itself—was enhanced by two methods: First, the primary wood was white oak, a pale wood with little natural color. Both color and texture were improved by the process of “quarter cutting” an oak log to reveal the startling pattern of the flecks of the medullary rays, the “tiger’s eyes” in the oak. The second improvement came with the application of coats of orange shellac, sometimes tinted with yellow ochre, to produce the famous golden oak look of the late 19th century. This led to the “Golden Oak” period of American furniture that lasted from the 1880s to the second decade of the 20th century.

This oak sideboard shows traces of the latter part of the Golden Oak period. Quarter cut veneer is used only on the top two drawers. Flat cut oak is used on the large drawer, the doors and the case. The carvings are all applied.

These oak Eastlake style chairs represent the crossover from late Victorian walnut styles to the new wood of the day.

As relatively wealthy as the emerging middle class was, it couldn’t afford to hire Horner and Hunzinger on a regular basis and was far too impatient to wait for new finery. They wanted it now! That led to the catalog sales books promoted by Sears, Eaton’s of Canada, Montgomery Ward and Larkin. But there had to be a trade off. Since these companies were capable of shipping a specific item from a book full of furniture across the country, there had to be some standardization and some compromises.

Instead of shipping furniture to a local agent for any needed assembly and repair, the designs had to be simplified enough to either ship the furniture as an assembled unit directly to the customer or in such a simplified condition that the customer could assemble it in the home. By the 1890s, expensive hand-carving was replaced by machine-cut applied carvings and moldings, and surface decoration moved from carving to pressing. Sharp metal dies with an intricate design were pressed over chair backs under great pressure to produce the “press back” chairs of the period that had the look of hand carving. In addition, the overall size of individual units began to decrease due to commercial pressures. Smaller pieces cost less to ship and used fewer raw materials to construct. This became increasingly important, as the seemingly inexhaustible stretches of old oak forest began to disappear.

In response, manufacturers began to use substitute woods like red oak, elm, ash and hickory in less conspicuous places instead of using all old growth white oak. Then came the use of veneers. Quarter-cutting an oak log is very wasteful of the raw material but thin slices of quarter cut oak veneer could cover 25 times as much surface as solid quarter cut wood. Some factories even went one step further. Using a textured roller, an oak grain-looking pattern could be literally printed onto a piece of wood painted the correct background color. It often takes a discerning eye to see the difference even today.

This drop front desk shows the simulated oak finish that applied using the Sherwood method of rolling an oak finish onto a plain background wood.

This little rocker shows the nut brown effect achieved using a fumed finish.

The “Golden Oak” period was briefly interrupted early in the 20th century by the Arts and Crafts influence, which tended to use a darker finish created by exposing the raw wood to ammonia fumes or by using nut-brown stains to tone down the gold colors. But the public grew weary of the severe styles of the movement and demand for the darker colors faded around World War I. Popular taste turned back to the golden choices.

By the 1920s, the desire for styles from the country’s past overtook the hunger for oak as the Colonial Revival period rolled onto the scene with its traditional designs in dark walnut and mahogany. The Golden Oak period was over.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

OK, so you stumbled upon a beautiful antique chair. Now, how do you tell when it was made?

Some pieces of furniture are like an open book. A casual familiarity with the trade allows you to readily identify the period of a piece of golden oak or to correctly label a Victorian Rococo Revival couch. A number of technical elements can easily tell the age of a drop-front desk and a bed is a dead giveaway based on the hardware of the siderails. But what about a chair? Chairs are not quite so open about themselves and, like a friend’s skittish pet, it may take a while to get to know it—and for it to know you.

The first thing to know about a chair is what kind of chair is it? Chairs and similar seating platforms have been made for thousands of years, but in modern times in the Western world, chairs boil down to one of three types: turner’s chairs; Windsor chairs; and cabinetmaker’s chairs.

Turner’s chairs are exactly what they sound like. They are assembled from pieces turned on a lathe and usually employ a round mortise and tenon joint for the construction. Everything is round in the eyes of a turner. This type of chair was one of the first that was mass produced because of the simplicity of the elements and the construction.

A Windsor chair consists of a more or less flat seat, into which legs are inserted from below, again using a generally round mortise and tenon joint. The upper section of the chair consists of turned spindles inserted in the seat and topped, usually, by the bent hoop that composes the equivalent of a crest rail. The distinguishing feature of a Windsor is that no element of the chair is continuous from top to floor. Almost everything has a terminus in the seat except the lower stretchers (which connect leg to leg), back hoops (that form arms) and crest rails (that sit impaled on stiles, which are implanted into the seat but do not contact the floor.

Cabinetmaker’s chairs are made from sawn and shaped elements, often elaborately carved. The normal joint in this type of chair is the rectangular mortise and tenon, and in the later incarnations of the industrial age, the dowel joint. The most commonly seen chair in today’s market is the cabinetmaker’s chair.

The round dots on the back rail of this mid-18th-century chair are the “trennels” that help stabilize a mortise and tenon joint.

The corner of this 18th-century Philadelphia Chippendale chair is blocked with a vertical piece of softwood, like pine.

Cabinetmaker’s chairs, at first, seem to be the hardest to read. No joinery is visible, except the occasional through-tenon peeking out the rear stile or the apparent presence of a wooden pin—the “tree nail” or “trennel” —securing a mortise and tenon joint. Without these scant clues and without performing some destructive testing, like opening a joint, it is very difficult to tell if the chair was assembled with mortise and tenons or dowels. But there very often is another clue that can be used if it can be seen. That is the manner in which the corners of the seat frame are blocked.

Since most cabinetmaker’s chairs are upholstered, access to corner blocking is not always easy unless the chair has a removable slip seat or unless you are able to remove some of the bottom dust cover to see into the interior. If you can get there, though, you may find some real help in identifying the chair.

In the early 19th century some chairs, especially English Regency style chairs, used only a cross-corner brace set into notches in the rails.

This shaped block attached with screws was used in the late 19th-century Victorian period.

The blocking in mid-18th-century chairs was almost always done using a soft wood with several small blocks in each corner. The grain of the blocks usually runs vertically and, since all fasteners of that period were handmade, very few 18th-century corner blocks have original nails or screws in them. In keeping with the concept of “workmanlike manner”—i.e., if it doesn’t show don’t spend any time on it—most original 18th-century corner blocks are unfinished, just like the insides of the seat rails.

By the beginning of the 19th century, many cabinetmakers were no longer using the corner blocks and instead relied on a type of cleat to span the corner and connect the front rail to the side rail, bypassing actual contact with the corner altogether. These narrow cleats were usually a hardwood with the grain running horizontally and were glued into notches cut into the tops of the rails. They were fairly shallow and did not extend the full depth of the rails.

This is what a mortise and tenon joint looks like on the inside. The square hole is the mortise. The square tongue is the tenon.

This Depression-era block only touches the rails and does not fill the corner. It is attached with screws and has hole in the middle for the screw to attach the plywood seat.

By mid century, with the Industrial Revolution reaching maturity and the factory system in full swing, corner blocking became more elaborate. Many Victorian era pieces, especially later in the period, had blocks shaped to cover each corner completely, securing two rails and the leg. In addition to being glued, many blocks of the time also had the newly introduced, machine made, readily available gimlet screw to help hold it fast.

Another technological innovation influenced corner blocks at the beginning of the 20th century. This was the development of commercial plywood. This new type of surface became the seat bottom of choice in much of the mid-grade furniture production of the first half of the century. Some way was needed to secure the new seating material to the chair and screwing it to the corner blocks was the logical step. Corner blocks of the Depression-era emulated those of 100 years prior in that once again they did not actually cover the corner but only connected rail to rail. But this time they were glued and screwed and had another hole in the center to accommodate the seat bottom fastener.

With the advent of strong dowel joints, reinforced with new resin glues, corner blocks almost became superfluous to the structure of the chair. Their new job focused primarily on holding and supporting the seat.

So the enigmatic chair does have something to tell you after all. You just have to get to know it a little better.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

Sears did not make this cabinet, as opposed to the story told to me by the owner. It was factory-made in the early 20th century and may have been sold by Sears but it was not manufactured by the company.

The life story of an antique—where it’s been, who owned it and how it came to be where it is—is known as the “provenance” of the piece. A good provenance is supported by documents or photos that verify the story. These might include bills of sale, household inventories, wills, gift receipts and contemporary photos. In other words, things of the period of the piece, usually generated by a disinterested third party, that confirm the history attached to the piece.

On the other end of the provenance scale, often the most unreliable sources for the confirmation of the history of a given artifact is family history, handed down from generation to generation. It seems that the oral history of artifacts—like the family history itself—often gets a little extra handling in the “handing down” process.

Over the years, I have heard quite a number of wonderful family stories that burden the current owners of family artifact. Sometimes I just go with the flow, but sometimes a little research and a few facts can set the record straight (with only some slight damage to the family reputation).

Following are a few of the family fairy tales I have helped track down:

A reader from Georgia wrote that according to the family story, the bed he now had belonged to Herschel V. Johnson, the governor of Georgia from 1853 to 1857. He used the bed prior to and during his term of office. The governor died in 1880. He wanted to find out who made the bed and how much it is worth.

The style of bed was Federal from the early 19th century and would certainly seem to fit with the family story. However, since the governor died in 1880, it is unlikely that he ever saw, much less used the bed. The attaching hardware on the side rails was the primary clue that this was a factory made Colonial Revival bed, made around or after the turn of the 20th century, most likely in the 1920s. The stamped-metal hooks engaging pins inserted in the headboard and footboard is an arrangement that did not show up until very late in the 19th century, and then usually as only one hook instead of the two shown in a photograph, which are more commonly found in the 20th century. While it is true that the side rails or attaching hardware could have been replaced in the past, the headboard showed no trace of any other system, such as a bolt that would have been employed on a period bed. The round wire nails that attach the inside rail and the end block to the side rail are another clue. The round-headed wire nail was not developed until the 1880s.

Another of my favorites involved a reader who sent me a series of photographs of a cabinet. According to her family history, the cabinet was hand-made of solid mahogany. The reader drew my special attention to the big gouge on the front of the cabinet. That gouge was the result of a Civil War bullet fired through the house during a battle. Her grandfather had assured her the cabinet had been in the family for several generations before that and she wanted to know the value of the cabinet and the premium to the value that could be ascribed to the Civil War bullet hole. Unfortunately, I had to inform her that her family history of the cabinet had the same validity as the Georgia bed story. Turns out, the cabinet was made for the storage of phonograph records, which pretty much ruled out the Civil War connection. A quick glance at the photos revealed that the cabinet was not made of solid mahogany. So much for family history. To find a real good family story about the cabinet I suggested she find out who in the family really owned it and what happened to the old gramophone and the lacquer discs.

The attaching stamped-steel hardware on this side rail pretty much rule out the use of the bed by the mid-19th-century governor of Georgia. This type hardware as not developed until the turn of the 20th-century.

The final story involves a Sears china closet in very good condition and original finish. The lady who had it said it had been in her family for four generations and was one of the very first ones Sears ever made. It was quite valuable because of that. It makes a good story. Unfortunately, it isn’t true. Sears did not make any of its furniture; it was all contracted out or bought wholesale from regional suppliers. A careful reading of any of the old Sears catalogs, such as the reprint of the 1902 edition, will reveal little hints in the text about the outside sources of the goods. For example, on page 746 of the 1902 book is the following: “Our dining room and kitchen chairs are strictly high grade, made for us under contract by the best maker in America. It is made by one of the finest furniture manufacturers in the country whose name is a guarantee of material.”

The quarter-sawn oak china cabinet had the stylistic elements of the late American Empire period of the 1850s, which includes the turned-under feet and the modest “S” scroll of the front stanchions. But this cabinet was a 20th-century piece, ranging anywhere from 1900 to as late as 1920. This style cabinet was called a “Colonial” cabinet in the early 20th century in an effort to tie it to the Colonial Revival movement that was then (and is still) underway in this country. Cabinets of this period and style range in price from $500 to $2,000 depending on condition and this “unique first edition” was no different.

Family history can be fun, especially if you like to do genealogy research, but its use as a provenance source for a family treasure is always risky at best.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

Gluing a small piece of veneer into a loose mortise before gluing in the tenon will create a tight wood joint. This is a repair that passes the “smell test.” (Fred Taylor photo)

Need some advice about furniture? Want to know how to repair that chair or fix that ugly spot on the table top? Have a question about the properties of a specific finish or what stripper to use on a tough project? Finding advice about furniture issues is about as hard as catching a cold in January. Getting good advice is sometimes a little more difficult, but it can be done with some attention to detail and some hard work.

The first place to go is, obviously, the library if you are fortunate enough to live in a major metro area with good public services. But even then, how long will you have to devote to the search to find the specific answer to your specific question? Probably a lot longer than you are willing to wait.

So who do you ask? Most of us don’t know enough about a specific subject to ask the penetrating questions of an “expert” that would reveal the depth (or lack of it) of his or her knowledge. If we knew that much, we wouldn’t need their help. It’s sort of like going to the doctor. You don’t understand everything that’s said but you trust the practitioner. The same holds true for advice about furniture. You need a source you can trust, someone with a track record that can easily be verified or with a public image established over long years of good work. But you also need one more important thing. You need to apply the “smell test” to any advice you receive.

What the heck is the smell test? It’s that old sixth sense that kicks in when something isn’t quite right. It’s like buying milk just before the expiration date on the carton. The dating tells you it’s good and the store guarantees its products, but just in case you check it anyway—you give it the “smell test” just to be sure. The same cautionary approach is often wisely used when accepting advice about your furniture. The source may be reputable, the advice sounds perfectly reasonable and acceptable, the outcome appears to be desirable. But does it pass the smell test? Is it a common-sense answer? Do you feel comfortable with it?

I ran across just such a case recently in an advice column on furniture care and repair written by a columnist for a major metropolitan publication. The original question had to do with repairing the chronically loose joints on a set of 45-year-old wooden dining chairs. The chairs reportedly had to be disassembled and reglued every five years. What was the long-term solution? The “expert” suggested four possible solutions, three of which included the addition of metal of some sort to the wooden chair joints:

• The only non-metal solution involved the use of epoxy glue rather than wood glue. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t hold a loose joint any better than white school glue would hold it. It would just guarantee that the next time the chair needed repair (because there will be a next time) the structural components of the chair, the legs and stretchers will shatter instead of the joints opening up cleanly.

• The first suggested metal application was the use of turnbuckles and wires to secure the chair legs and frame. That would certainly look upscale in a formal dining room setting and eventually the chair would just fall apart.

• The next suggestion was to use a perforated metal strap known as Mr. Grip in the holes of the loose joints. The rough metal would hold the stretcher tight – until it just rips out again, this time tearing up the end of the stretcher. That was a variation of a construction technique called the “LOCK-JOINT” used in chairs in the late 1920s made by the Colonial Manufacturing Company of High Point, N.C. They used a metal fishhook-like device to secure joints. It worked great until the wood shrank, the joint got loose and the steel split rivet ripped open the joint. You don’t see many Colonial Manufacturing chairs around today.

• The final metal application was the use of small brass screws inserted into the joints. The screws were a bad enough idea to start with, but the brass-screw idea was even worse. Brass screws don’t have the strength to stand up to that sort of stress. They will snap before the wood does.

The point is that the “expert” giving all this advice had obviously never successfully repaired a wooden chair in his life. This was demonstrated by his total lack of understanding of wood joints. His approach to the repair problem just didn’t pass the smell test.

If a wood joint is chronically loose it’s because the wooden components of the joint don’t fit right. The fix is to make them fit. If the hole—the mortise—is worn bigger or the stretcher—the tenon—has been reduced by wear or abrasion, or both, the answer is to fill the void in the joint with some sort of wood that will have the same reaction to glue, stress, temperature and humidity that the original wood will have. No metal application will match that. After cleaning out old glue, wrap a thin piece of veneer around the tenon or insert it into the mortise to create a tight wood joint when the parts are assembled. Make the wood work with you—don’t work against it—by adding foreign material like metal.

The solution should pass the smell test.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

Furnish Green is a green-minded retail operation in New York City. Owner-operator Nathan Hescock, a self-confessed “estate sale” junkie and professional dance instructor, buys up used furniture and other bits of décor and resells them at surprisingly affordable prices. The shop is filled, chock-a-block, with everything you might and might not expect, including a retro clock and desk-top globe.

When self-confessed “estate sale” junkie and professional dance instructor Nathan Hescock decided to furnish his dance studio in New York City with vintage finds, his clients took notice. As a result, Hescock started selling pieces right off the dance floor. Eventually, his side business of rescuing and restoring second-hand furniture became a full time green-minded retail operation called Furnish Green.

It’s rough for any small shop, especially one located in New York City, to stand out. Nevertheless, Furnish Green manages to do so for two reasons. First, its showroom is brimming with apartment-friendly mid-century and shabby-chic furniture. Second, a majority of the inventory is surprisingly affordable. A prime example is a gently loved, blonde wood 1953 Haywood Wakefield dining set that was spotted on the store’s blog. The ensemble that included a table, four chairs, and a lovely hutch sold for $200. We spotted similar sets on eBay for $2,000.

With deals like these, we had to reach out to Nathan Hescok to learn more about Furnish Green’s retail mission:

DeDe Sullivan: Do you have an overall retail and pricing philosophy at Furnish Green?

Nathan Hescock: Our philosophy is to sell pieces for their functional value, not their aesthetic value. Even though we are selling antique and vintage items, we don’t want to get hung up on the “collectible” monetary worth a piece may have. Also, stocking furniture is expensive in Manhattan because it takes up a lot of real estate on the sales floor. We want pieces to find a new home as quickly as possible. That’s what it is all about.

DeDe: What can customers expect to find at Furnish Green—is there a particular look or style you adhere to when you are “picking” for inventory?

Nathan: The great thing about Furnish Green is that we don’t specialize. If we did, we would have to charge more for our furniture. You can generally find pieces in our shop from 1880-1960s. We tend to gravitate towards mid-century, Danish and industrial pieces with some painted shabby thrown in. But it’s really about what the universe gives us.

DeDe: Tell us about one of your best estate sale finds.

These trucks may sell as is, or Hescok may add some discarded legs and turn them into coffee tables. Either way, they’ll be priced right.

Nathan: I am always surprised about what I find. The best pickings are in attics, garages and basements. I can go to an estate sale that has been going on for days and find cool pieces in a basement. Our printmaker’s cabinet (currently listed online) was tucked away, covered in dust, in a 94-year-old woman’s basement. She had long forgotten that it was down there.

DeDe: Are there specific items that immediately sell when it hits the showroom floor?

Nathan: Right now our coffee table trunks are hot. We take smallish antique trunks and add legs from a discarded piece of furniture. I can’t make them fast enough.

DeDe: Do you sense any upcoming retail trends brewing; are customers starting to inquire about a certain style or item?

Nathan: Our success at Furnish Green is based on us listening intently to our customers. At one time, I was selling pieces that decorated my dance studio to my clients. I still have my dance studio, but now Furnish Green occupies a much larger space. Many people prefer to buy vintage over brand new but no one wants to pay crazy, New York City prices in order to do so. We give them opportunity to own vintage because we price our merchandise to move. I want people to say, “I am going to buy a dresser. I can buy one from Furnish Green or IKEA because the price is the same. I’ll go with the vintage dresser because it has more character, it is better made and it’s better for the environment to buy something that already exists.”

DeDe: Before we wrap this interview, drop a few words of wisdom on us!

Nathan: Lift from your legs and keep your back straight. Have your philosophy manifest itself in your body. OK, I need to go lift some furniture now.

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DeDe Sullivan is a retrophile with a particular fondness for junktiques; discarded vintage treasures whose aesthetic worth far exceeds its monetary value. Her blog, VintageandFlea.com, documents her junking and antiquing adventures. This includes sharing her favorite places to score unique items, the history behind unusually finds, along with display and upcycling ideas. Have a question or story to tell? Shoot her an e-mail at dede [at] vintageandflea [dot] com!

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WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This Baker chair shows a strong Empire influence. (LiveAuctioneers.com/DuMouchelles photo)

After the American Revolution ended in 1783, the fledgling country struggled to establish its new identity in a number of areas, including furniture style and design. It plowed through the Federal period—unabashedly using the ideas of English designers like Hepplewhite and Sheraton—and then climbed into the Empire period in the footsteps of Napoleon. When the English crown again beckoned, this time in the form of Queen Victoria, in the mid-19th century, American furniture styles reverted to customized versions of the European revival forms for most of the rest of the century. Until, that is, the Centennial Exposition in 1876, which ushered in the longest-lasting continuous furniture movement in American history: Colonial Revival, an appreciation of and interest in furniture styles and forms from the early years of this country as a colony of the English crown.

Philadelphia hosted the nation’s 100th birthday party in the form of a great exhibition of furniture and technology from across the country and around the world. While the most popular setting at the Exposition was the Japanese exhibit, and most of the American furniture on display was in the battleship-scale of the Renaissance Revival style, there was an awakening of interest in what American furniture had looked like 100 years before, when the country’s founding fathers had the nerve to start the struggle for independence.

In spite of the commercial success and public accolades of the Centennial Exhibition, sentiment at the grassroots level was still looking over its shoulder to the glorious Colonial past. An effort was made, by those who could, to surround themselves with articles from this era, attaching a new importance to history, value and integrity. This was the beginning of the Colonial Revival. It soon became apparent, however, that there were many more Victorians wanting to acquire Colonial antiques than there were actual Colonial antiques. In a collection of essays originally written for Scribner’s Monthly and published in book form in 1877 as “The House Beautiful,” Clarence Cook, a contemporary art critic, stated the obvious. He noted the shortage of genuine Colonial antiques and suggested that well executed reproductions would do just as well as the real thing. That opened the flood gates.

Hepplewhite SB full – This is a Colonial Revival Federal period sideboard made by Baker fashioned after a design by George Hepplewhite. Hepplewhite was an English designer whose work was popular in the United States in the late 1700s and early 1800s Federal period. He is best known for his design of the oval drawer pulls of the period that bear his name. (LiveAuctioneers.com/Lewis & Maese Auction Co photo)

This graceful Baker sideboard is also Hepplewhite style. (LiveAuctioneers.com/Pook & Pook photo)

While the two concepts would later seem to be at odds with each other, the revival of interest in colonial American furniture and colonial reproductions coincided with the advent of the basic tenets of the Arts and Crafts movement, a return to basic craftsmanship and honesty in construction techniques as espoused by William Morris, Charles Eastlake and Elbert Hubbard.

A number of companies such as Sypher & Company of New York and Potthast Brothers of Baltimore were making faithful reproductions of 18th-century items, often in bench-made fashion rather than on an assembly line. Some of the items were even completely hand done. By the 1920s, some small shops were also doing excellent work, such as Margolis in Hartford and of course Wallace Nutting in Massachusetts. But their work, while excellent, was limited in quantity and could not satisfy the growing demand for good work at a reasonable price in large volume.

These elegant baker Chippendale armchairs have square chamfered Marlborough legs and intricately detailed pierce carved splats. (LiveAuctioneers.com/Susanin’s Auction photo)

A pair of Baker Queen Anne style chairs with reverse scroll arms, patterned after a style from 1730-1750. The arms intensify the curvaceous design of the chairs. (LiveAuctioneers.com/Pook & Pook photo)

Then along came Hollis Baker, son of Siebe Baker, the Dutch immigrant who founded the firm of Cook and Baker in 1893 in Holland, Mich., near Grand Rapids. By 1925, the company was called Baker & Company and Hollis Baker was the president. He had a great interest in the Arts and Crafts movement and was especially interested in handcrafted furniture from the 18th century. But he saw the reality of the business situation and knew that whoever could solve the problem of combining the quality of handcrafted furniture with the practicalities of mass production would be very successful. In an article in “The Furniture Blue Book” in 1923, Baker wrote, “It is not so hard to make beautiful things where unlimited time and money can be spent. But to bring beauty within the reach of the average man is an even higher accomplishment. It is here that the opportunity lies in the furniture trade.”

And Baker attacked the opportunity with zeal. The company introduced a line of American reproduction furniture in 1922, a Duncan Phyfe suite in 1923 and furniture based on Pilgrim styling in 1926. The company was renamed Baker Furniture Factories in 1927 and began to specialize in high-quality, faithfully executed reproductions. Meanwhile, Baker traipsed all over Europe looking for examples that could be sent back to Holland and Grand Rapids as examples. By 1931, the company was producing a line of Georgian mahogany furniture called the “Old World Collection” and in 1932 opened the Manor House in New York City to produce top-of-the-line, handmade reproductions, faithful down to the dovetailing and finishing.

This Baker Regency style drum table was originally designed by Thomas Sheraton. The form was developed in the late 18th century based on the shape of a military drum with a deeper skirt for drawers. (LiveAuctioneers.com/Skinner photo)

This magnificent Federal period four-door breakfront by Baker is made of crotch cut mahogany veneer with satinwood inlay. It sold at auction for $3,250 in 2005. (LiveAuctioneers.com/S & S Auction photo)

In 1941, the company opened the Baker Museum for Furniture Research in Holland and provided a much-appreciated source of information on authentic furniture for researchers and collectors. In 1936, Colonial Williamsburg commissioned a line of reproductions to be made by Kittinger. When Kittinger was sold in 1991, Baker took over the Colonial Williamsburg license.

Thousands of American furniture manufacturers made and still make fine Colonial Revival furniture, but only a few made high-quality faithful reproductions. For more information about the Colonial Revival see, “Colonial Revival Furniture” by Lindquist and Warren, Wallace-Homestead. For more information about Baker furniture see “Fine Furniture Reproductions, 18th Century Revivals of the 1930s and 1940s,” published by Schiffer Publishing.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This is a nice example of a turn-of-the-century chifferobe. (LiveAuctioneers.com/Austin Auction gallery photo)

Furniture can be quite cumbersome, especially in small quarters. Or even in big ones. In medieval times, the great room of an estate was a multifunction room, serving first as banquet hall then as recreation room. The banquet tables were merely planks placed across trestles and after the meal the whole assembly could quickly be dismantled when it was fun time after supper. Very convenient even when you have lots of space. When you don’t have lots of space, though, the convenience could be a critical factor in whether or not you could own another piece of furniture.

So the idea of folding furniture gained acceptance. Of course the military had been dealing with folding furniture for many centuries. The Romans even carried large wooden chairs called “curule” chairs that easily folded for transportation. And campaign beds have been a staple for officers since about the second officer was commissioned but examples of folding furniture used in regular fixed household locations appears to have come into use at a relatively early date.

The first folding beds designed for regular use appeared in the time of William and Mary, the late 17th century. These beds were not used by the royalty or the nobility, of course, but they didn’t exactly belong to peasants either, because to have the need for folding bed required the possession of a house. Where they came in especially handy was in the American colonies. Houses in the colonies often did not expand as quickly as the families expanded, so conservation of space was required.

One example of a type of folding bed was used throughout the 18th century. It was a type of rope bed because of the flexibility involved. The side rails were hinged a quarter to a third of the way out from the headboard and an extra set of legs supported the hinged area. The outer two-thirds or three-quarters of the bed could be folded back against the headboard and the wall during daytime when the bed was not in use. Sometimes those with canopies were designed so that the canopies folded down over the collapsed bed to conceal the underside of the bedding.

On the back of the chifferobe above, it has a fold down (not Murphy) bed. The cabinet is called a chifferobe bed and was the perfect single piece of furniture for a young man. (LiveAuctioneers.com/Austin Auction gallery photo)

And that little idea was the start of an entirely new concept in folding furniture—the idea of having a folding bed that looked like something other than a folded bed when in the storage position. But the consummation of the idea had to wait for the Industrial Age of the 19th century.

By the third quarter of the century, there were a variety of manufacturers—mostly in the East and Midwest—that specialized in folding beds. Among them were Hale & Kilburn Manufacturing in Philadelphia, maker of the “Champion Automatic Folding Bedstead,” A. H. Andrews & Co. of Chicago and M. Samuels & Co. of New York. These beds were enclosed in cabinets that exhibited the styles of the 1870s and 1880s, primarily Renaissance Revival and Eastlake.

Some of the cabinets looked like chests of drawers with mirrors. Others looked like wardrobes with either plain or mirrored fronts. Made mostly of solid walnut, the folding bedsteads of this era were not cheap. Convenience, combined with good cabinetry, had a steep price. In their 1880 catalog, one elaborate double bed model shown by Hale & Kilburn was decorated with extensive Renaissance carving and faced with fancy veneer. The basic bed was $170. Mirrors, an ebony finish and plush mattress were additional.

Was this the famous Murphy bed? No, the Murphy bed is a “Johnny-come-lately” in the folding bed market. William Murphy was born in South Carolina in 1876 and moved to California around the turn of the century. He lived in a typical one-room apartment of the period and the standard bed took up most of the space. Wanting to entertain in his new digs to aide in his search for a wife, Murphy experimented with folding beds and applied for his first patent around 1900, founding the Murphy Wall Bed Company in San Francisco to manufacture his new design. In 1918 he acquired a patent for a bed that pivoted on the door jamb of a closet and then lowered into sleeping position.

This bed has hinged siderails and folds into the mirrored cabinet behind it. While it is from around the turn of the century it is not a patented “Murphy” bed.

Popularity of the patent folding bed peaked during the Depression years of the 1920s and 1930s. Reduced circumstances forced many families to seek smaller dwelling spaces and folding beds were a natural for this application. The company moved its headquarters to New York in 1925 and renamed itself the Murphy Door Bed Company to acknowledge the famous door jamb pivot mechanism. World War II tolled the temporary death knell of the popular bed, as the scarcity of materials during the war years curtailed production and the G.I. Bill after the war allowed returning soldiers to acquire spacious, newly built houses that had none of the cramped style of their childhood Depression years.

But in the folding bed market, as with almost everything else, what goes around comes around and the pendulum swung the other way in the 1970s. The rise of condominiums gave impetus to the need for additional sleeping space without additional floor space and the Murphy Door Bed Company reacted with the introduction of custom cabinetry and wall units.

Since the turn of the 20th century, the folding bed has been synonymous with the name Murphy, so much so that in 1989 a court ruled that the term “Murphy bed” had become so widespread as to be considered a generic term. Now any manufacturer can call its folding bed a “murphy” and many do without fear of trademark violation.

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[Charlie Chaplin had some trouble with a folding bed in the 1916 silent movie "One A.M."]

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Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This elaborately carved Eastlake hall stand of the 1880s provides six coat hooks, two umbrella stands, a storage drawer and an appropriately hard, uncomfortable seat. (Wooden Nickel Auction photo)

The 19th century in the United States started out as period of major political strife with little attention to the development of furniture. Sure, there was the Federal period and the Empire period, but those were more adaptations to style than innovation in form. There were other things to worry about. There was the War of 1812. Then there was the Mexican War, followed by the Civil War.

After the Civil War, things settled down a bit and the population turned inward to social status and function. This was the high Victorian period and one of the primary considerations in all subjects was the topic of gender. The urbanization of much of the country no longer required primary emphasis on agricultural skills from many of the inhabitants and new role models and social functions developed because of the shift.

In proper Victorian society the world was divided into two parts, male and female, and each gender was assigned a space. The outside world belonged to the men. It was the place where commerce was conducted, work was carried out and money was made and exchanged. The inside, the interior of the house, belonged to the women. This is where food was prepared, children were born and reared and personal items were cared for and stored. With two such radically different areas of operation, the transition from one domain to the next could surely be traumatic, almost to be considered an intrusion by the principal of the area entered.

That is where the concept of the foyer or hall came into play in Victorian house design. This was neutral territory. It didn’t really belong in either gender’s domain and was used to prepare for entry into the next area. Outdoor coats had to be removed or put on. Gloves came on or off, as did overshoes, shawls and hats. But where to put all of these items? This storage problem prompted the first piece of furniture specifically designed for the foyer: the hall stand or hall tree. It was a purely 19th-century contrivance with no precedent in form or function other than just hooks on a wall.

This Renaissance Revival hall stand was the height of the form. The raised platform at the bottom of the mirror is the card receiver to properly announce the arrival of guests. (LiveAuctioneers/Bob Courtney Auctions)

Early versions of the hall stand all had the same three components, coat hooks a mirror and an umbrella stand. By this time, just after mid century, the umbrella had become a common accessory for the middle class and the hall was the logical place for its storage since it was an “outside” thing but did need to come inside. The coat hooks reflected the need for proper attire for both inside and outside and became the keeper of the outside garments on the inside of the house. But the limited number of hooks, usually six or so, arranged around the mirror demonstrate that this was not an annex to the coat closet for long term storage. This was simply a stopping point for those outer garments in transition. The mirror was used extensively throughout better Victorian homes and reflected the cultural fixation with personal appearance. It was appropriately placed in the hall to insure a proper appearance for entry to the inside. Some hall stands had one more feature, the shelf or table for gloves, books or a card receiver.

Hall stands reached their zenith in the Renaissance Revival style of the 1870s. The importance of a good first impression translated to size in a hall stand and the Renaissance period offered a very nice arrangement of size, convenience and opulence for the Victorian well to do at the beginning of the last quarter of the century. Hall stands of the style, as well as other furniture of the period, made by Berkey & Gay of Grand Rapids can be seen in “Late 19th Century Furniture by Berkey & Gay,” published by Schiffer. By the late part of the century the “Golden Oak” period was dawning and the elegance of the Renaissance, as well as the importance of the hall stand, were beginning to fade. By 1920, the hall stand was all but gone, replaced by a common coat rack in the corner by the front door.

But the hall had another function. In addition to being the transition area it was also the waiting area. One had to be invited into the interior of the house by a resident of appropriate rank. While it was important to be polite to anyone, regardless of rank, there was a definite seating priority. Persons of equal or greater social ranking than the owner of the house were invited in immediately. Those of lower rank, especially delivery people and messengers, were not invited in and waited in the hall. It was incumbent on the owner to provide seating but it was not required that the seating be comfortable. They wouldn’t be there that long. Thus hall seating took on an especially austere look with flat straight wooden chairs or stools with no padding or the hard plank seat sometimes incorporated into the hall stand.

This late 19th century oak hall chair fulfills all the requirements of hall seating—it is provided but it does not have to be comfortable. (LiveAuctioneers/Gordon’s Estate Services)

For more information about quaint Victorian customs regarding gender and lifestyle take a look at “Death in the Dining Room and Other Tales of Victorian Culture” by Kenneth Ames, published by Temple University Press. Ames is chief of Historical and Anthropological Surveys of the New York State Museum and was formerly chair of the of the Office of Advanced Studies at the Winterthur Museum.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This fake quarter-sawn oak drop front desk was made using Sherwood’s roller printing method on birch.

Throughout most of the history of wooden furniture, there have been many attempts to disguise the true nature of the wood used. Most attempts are efforts to make a lesser wood appear to be a more expensive, more beautiful or more exotic species. It may be that the desired wood is too expensive for the maker to use or it might be that it is just not available at any price—or it could be that the maker just thought he could do it cheaper and get away with it. Some of the cosmetic charades have been quite artful and ingenious while some have been heavy handed, clumsy and obvious.

In the 18th- and 19th-centuries, some furniture made of lesser-quality wood was just painted to conceal the actual construction. But another school of makers used graining as a method of disguising the true material. In the late 18th century, the graining of cabinets was in full swing. Many of these examples are works of art, such as the chest on chest made by the Dunlap family of cabinetmakers in New Hampshire (which sold at auction in North Carolina in 2005 for $276,000). The cabinet looked like real wood, even to the trained eye.

A more common application was the use of black ink over a reddish background to simulate the look of rosewood. This became especially popular in the mid 19th century, when rosewood Empire pieces were at a premium. Walnut Victorian chairs were often given a red wash and grained with black to look like the much more expensive rosewood. Even crotch-cut mahogany was widely synthesized, since it has such an erratic pattern and almost any graining technique will work. Many mid-century crotch mahogany cupboards are actually painted pine or poplar. Most of this kind of work was done by individual cabinetmakers or artists

However, by the end of the 19th century, the deception became commercial rather than individual. In 1885, an inventor in Grand Rapids, Mich., named Harry Sherwood came up with a system to mechanically grain just about any wood to look like the most popular wood of the time: quarter-cut golden oak. Quarter-cutting oak to produce the prominent “tiger eye” design is an expensive process, both in material and in labor time, and this new system allowed Sherwood to open a new business based exclusively on his deceptive graining practices.

These two mid- to late-19th-century chairs were grained to make a plain wood, in this case birch, look like more expensive rosewood.

Flat surfaces were stained and then grained with large, inked drum rollers that produced the distinctive pattern. Curved pieces were grained by hand, using small specially carved rollers. Many furniture manufacturers of the time quickly adopted the technique and it was in widespread use by 1910. The furniture looked “right” to the uneducated customer’s eye but it was made of significantly less-expensive material, like softwood pine instead of quarter-cut white oak. The surprise would come many years later when one of these pieces needed to be refinished. What had looked like a solid-oak chest turned out to be a plain softwood chest after it was stripped. Many refinishers had a lot of explaining to do.

This “Borax” chest from the 1930s is made of a plain secondary wood that has a fancy finish printed on it.

That problem continued with a vengeance into the Depression era. Hard times result in innovative solutions and some manufacturers took Mr. Sherwood’s approach to new heights. During the 1920s and 1930s, a line of furniture was mass produced that closely imitated Sherwood’s concept except in scale. In the 1920s, the deception was much more widespread. The furniture was quickly constructed of inexpensive wood using every shortcut known to the industry, including the absence of dust covers inside cabinets, the use of quick, machine-cut rabbet joints or nailed joints in drawer construction instead of dovetails, and the use of printed or rolled grained finishes made to resemble real wood. Then areas of the flat surfaces were outlined with thin router lines and the included areas received another layer of color. The effect was that of an expensively and artistically veneered piece of furniture. This type of furniture was referred to as “Borax” furniture because a cleaning product containing borax gave away coupons to redeem for cheap furniture like this. During the Depression, the word borax came to mean cheap when used in reference to furniture.

Another great deception in furniture was reserved for the Art Moderne (Art Deco) period. Part of the allure of many pieces of the period was the wide variety of woods and veneers used to create the outstanding veneer patterns. One wood widely used was called Oriental or Australian walnut; a uniformly striped wood often used on drawer fronts in diamond patterns. Another popular wood used in banding was the closely striped zebra wood or zebrano. But zebrano was costly for the time and, in less expensive pieces, it was often successfully simulated with “veneerite,” a fake paper veneer with the grain pattern printed on it.

The vertical striped banding below the drawer looks like zebra wood veneer but it is printed paper known as “veneerite.” You can see where it has worn off in the middle section.

After the Depression era, the need for deception seemed to diminish for a while. It was virtually gone in the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s, but it came roaring back in the 1980s, sporting a new name and a new game.

This time, the trickery was touted as the “engraved” finish. What appeared to be virtually identical dining tables could be seen on furniture show room floors, but the prices were significantly different, often by more than $1,000 for a single table. Why? Because one table was made with mahogany veneer—the expensive one—while the cheaper model had an engraved mahogany finish. What’s that? It was back to the old borax trick. It was a printed finish. And not only was it a printed finish, it was not even printed directly on the wood, as the borax finish was. The new engraved finish was printed directly on the new substrate known as “MDF,” which stands for “medium density fiberboard.” It is called heavy-duty cardboard by the rest of us.

Learn to detect fake finishes.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

The most commonly known beetles are the so-called “powder post” beetles. Their ability to render the insides of a nice piece of wood furniture into a substance the consistency of baby powder is the reason for their name.

There are lots of things in the world that are good for your older and antique furniture—controlled temperature and humidity, regular cleaning, careful use and loving attention. But there are also lots of things out there that are bad for your furniture—flood water, excess light, inappropriate polishes and fire are the most common—but there is another classification of harmful elements that you must be aware of; the organic kind. Other than you, there are no organic creatures that are beneficial to antique furniture and some are downright destructive. Now that you know this little fact, you may need to adjust your defenses.

One form of destructive organism is insects. They are not all harmful, of course, but there are some that are deadly to your antiques. They are particularly dangerous because they are small and mostly work quietly out of sight, living in your furniture and usually digesting part of it along the way.

Harmful insects fall into two broad categories, beetles and termites. The most commonly known beetles are the so-called “powder post” beetles. Their ability to render the insides of a nice piece of wood furniture into a substance the consistency of baby powder is the reason for their name. These little beasties are small, brownish, dry wood-eating insects ranging in size from one-twelfth to one-fifth inch long. You won’t know you have them until they are gone because the main evidence is the exit hole as they leave the furniture. The adults mate and the female lays her eggs in cracks, crevices or old exit holes where they hatch into larvae and eat their way through the yummy cellulose before they pupate and emerge as beetles to start over again. You can treat the area with insecticide but you are better off asking a professional exterminator for help.

Another pesky beetle is the carpet beetle, small, oval-shaped beetles about 1/8 inch long, usually shiny black in the most common form. Here too the destructive phase is in the larvae, which may grow to a half inch long. They have a voracious appetite for any substance that contains keratin, a principal protein found in animal hair and feathers. Upholstery and carpet are the main targets, especially those that contain wool and horse hair. Vigilance and cleanliness are the best routes for detection and disposal.

The damage to this 18th-century table pedestal was done by drywood termites.

In southern regions of the country dry wood termites, known in the 19th century as “furniture termites” because of their propensity to eat furniture regularly, can be a constant problem. The only solution is fumigation by an exterminator.

So much for the wild critters. So much for intruders. Now let’s look at some of the invited domestic pests.

In the invited category of furniture pests are our loving and loveable pets. They don’t do it intentionally but they can be quite destructive. Dogs come immediately to mind because in their early stages they have needle sharp teeth and they like to gnaw—on anything, constantly—and that can include furniture, especially while you are not in the room. As the mature they generally are better behaved, but most dogs never outgrow their penchant for gnawing on something, perhaps just out of boredom, and that has spawned an entirely new industry, rawhide bones. But if a chewable toy is not available, place a sharp look out on chair stretchers and bed posts. Other domestics can do the same. I once had to repair a wooden picture frame shredded by an ill tempered parrot.

Upholstery can also take a beating from pets. There are the rare “outside” accidents that occur inside for both dogs and cats and the undiscovered incident can result in an unpleasant odor in a day or so. Not to mention the staining involved. And of course some pets will try to nap on a couch whether you are there or not. Finally, cats do love to stretch their claws hooked into a textured fabric. It’s good exercise for the cat but not so good for the fabric.

The final and ultimately most destructive threat to your furniture is people. That primarily involves kids, maids and jerks. Kids, of all ages, don’t always relate the things they play with to their environment. To a 4-year-old, a crayon, a hammer and a toy truck are not destructive, they are fun. But the unsupervised application of any of these to your antiques can have dire consequences both for the furniture and for the 4-year-old.

While they may be considered pets, dogs like to gnaw—on anything, including this table—especially while you are not in the room.

Maids can be a threat despite their best intentions. The main danger is the application of some greasy kid stuff to the furniture because it makes it look nice and shiny for the time being with little effort. If they do this on their own, providing their own polish, you need to get involved. If you are providing the greasy kid stuff for their use, you need to do some research on furniture care. Most furniture has some heft to it and the quick way to vacuum is to run the vacuum around and between the legs of chairs and tables. It takes too long to move everything, vacuum the space and replace the furniture. This leads to nicks and dings on legs and bases.

The final human threat is the jerk. These are the ones who don’t know or don’t care about what damage their actions, like leaning a chair back on two legs, may cause. Then there is the house ape. You have seen him many times. He is the very large person who inevitably gravitates to the most fragile, delicate chair in the room and makes himself very comfortable. Don’t be shy about posting your “NO Furniture Jerks Allowed” signs.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This Colonial Revival table and chair combination, with the faux bamboo turning and lyre back, make up a two-piece gossip bench from the Depression Era. The table has a shelf below the top surface to store the telephone directory. (Photo courtesy of Professional Appraisers and Liquidators, Crystal River, Fla.)

I have mentioned many times that one definition of furniture is “functional art.” Furniture is almost an absolute requirement in today’s society. We must have chairs and beds, tables and sofas, bookcases and dressers, mirrors and desks. Those are forms of furniture that blend in with our everyday duties of living and working. They are definitely “functional,” while the “art” part in many cases can certainly be debated. But there is a class of furniture that evolved not necessarily to fulfill our daily needs but to fulfill a function defined strictly by social norms of the day. These are things that we probably could have lived without in the long run but which filled a certain niche in a given social environment.

Several prominent examples come from the 20th century, but there are examples from almost every society in almost every period. One outstanding example from the 20th century is the gossip bench. It is true that no particular type of furniture is required or even desired for the completion of the task of “gossiping,” but nothing has enhanced the art of gossip so much as the telephone, so it seems fitting that a piece of gossip furniture is devoted to this aspect of the use of the telephone.

When telephones first became available to the public they were large, heavy appliances that were best hung on a wall and the user had to stand next to it to take advantage of it. A tall stool quickly followed for longer conversations. When the desktop or tabletop phone made its way into the home, it usually—at least initially—was regarded as intrusive and was relegated to a separate stand, a hall table or a nook in the living room. Gradually, the phone became an indispensable part of daily home life, and comfort and convenience while using the device became important. And as cities grew, the telephone companies issued phone directories, the ubiquitous list of everyone who had one of the new devices. The new publications quickly became burdensome and storage was problem. Then along came the gossip bench. It provided a place to sit, either attached or as a separate matching piece, a place for the phone on the table top, a writing surface to make taking notes easier and, at long last, a storage shelf or drawer for the directory.

The gossip bench solved several problems with one piece of furniture. Was it necessary? No. Was it convenient? Yes. Has it survived? Only as a curiosity from another time, before phones became so portable. But initially, it was the social solution to a technological advance.

While gossip benches were interesting, they were small items in comparison to the rest of the household. In the mid 19th century, social status and presentation were much more important and nowhere was it seen so much as in the parlor set. The roles and ranks of men and women were much more codified than today and the parlor set was the perfect example of the rigid separations of the period. The parlor in a Victorian home was very formal place, used only for entertaining and for social show. It was and was not designed to be comfortable. It was designed to enforce proper posture by rank and gender. The typical parlor set of mid century contained a sofa, the focal point of the set, a large gentleman’s chair with padded arms and high back and a lady’s chair with no arms or with small sloping arms without padding and a lower back. The rest of the set was made up usually of four side chairs with open, low backs. This provided seating by rank for the entire family plus one or more guests.

This is a six piece Rococo Revival parlor set, circa 1860. The man’s armchair is to the right of the sofa, the lady’s chair to the left. It is missing a side chair to bring the number of pieces up to the traditional seven. (Photo courtesy of LiveAuctioneers.com/Burchard Galleries)

By the turn of the 20th century, this three piece Art Nouveau parlor set shows a rocker and a love seat rather than a full-sized couch. (Photo courtesy of LiveAuctioneers.com/Grandview Antiques and Auctions)

Guests sat on the largest piece, the sofa, which also was the most comfortable, providing the most leeway in seating positions. There was no latitude in the assignment of seats. By the end of the century, as the Victorian age wound down, so did the formality of the parlor set. By the turn of the century, the typical set included only five or fewer pieces, which often included rocking chairs and platform rockers, and the large sofa was now a two-place love seat. By the Depression Era, the parlor set as such was gone. There was no more need for such social distinction.

This early 19th-century rosewood stand is a teapoy. The top opens to reveal containers for tea, sugar and assorted implements used in the preparation and serving of hot tea. (Fred Taylor photo)

In the 18th century, some of the prime examples of furniture forms driven by social graces revolved around the service and storage of tea. During the 1700s, tea became the primary import of England and the financial effects were far reaching. At first, the simple herb was stored in simple wooden boxes known as “caddies.” Over the course of the century, they became more elaborate and more expensive. By the beginning of the 19th century, the simple wooden box had become the “teapoy,” a free-standing storage box with lined compartments inside for various types of tea, as well as the tools of the service. Teapoys became the height of the craftsman’s art and served no other purpose than the storage of tea.

Along with the tea caddy and teapoy came the tea table. The tea table was like a candle stand but with a larger top surface and a surprisingly tall pedestal. We are used to low tables for our coffee and cocktail service but tea tables were tall, as much as 32 inches. That was so that the tea could be served on the table and there was less chance of spillage on the way to the mouth, since the mouth and tabletop were on similar levels. Such tall serving tables and tea storage devices faded out when the formal service of tea in America and England faded.

Have you seen something that qualifies as uniquely “social furniture”? Please let me know.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This drawer pull, reportedly from the mid to late 18th century, shows no filing or shaping around the edges. It appears to have been stamped rather than rolled. That probably means it is a late 19th- or even 20th-century reproduction.

When you read the catalog for an auction that will be presenting some genuine antique furniture, it’s always interesting to read the descriptions. Some the most alluring will describe a piece of furniture as having “original finish” or “original brasses.” That’s a real selling point when looking at a chest of drawers that may be 200 years old and that those brass pulls have been there undisturbed for that whole time. Can that be? Sure it can, but sometimes that’s not the case. And it doesn’t have to be a 200-year-old antique chest for the hardware to make a difference. It could be a pretty nice Colonial Revival chest or desk or dresser, in excellent condition, that catches your fancy. But is it all original? And does it matter? Whether it matters is a concern for another day. Today, the discussion is just on determining the originality of hardware.

Since changing or altering hardware is one of the quickest and cheapest ways of improving the look of an otherwise bland piece, the pulls are always suspect, especially if they look really good.

Early 18th-century hardware was cast from molten brass using molds made of sand. This type of hardware is easy to recognize because it often has “inclusions” in the brass from the sand itself—either grains of sand or odd colors from impurities. The backs of this type of hardware were often left with the impression of the sand while the faces were polished. Around the middle of the 18th century, the customary blend of copper and zinc was changed to include more copper, giving the alloy more of a reddish cast than the pale yellow brass used for hardware earlier in the century. And by 1780, rolled brass sheets were available so that each piece of hardware could be cut or stamped rather than having to be cast. This greatly reduced the cost and increased the availability and uniformity of late 18th-century drawer pulls and escutcheons. While this new method still resulted in some filing and final shaping visible around the edges, the backs were now as smooth as the fronts.

The post at the top is handmade from the late 18th/early 19th century. Note the rough texture and the shallow, flat treads. This post started as a square rod. The post on the bottom is a machine made post from the mid 20th century with a smooth surface and perfect threads.

The use of high-pressure rollers during the Federal period increased output even more. No longer did decorative pulls have to be engraved or chased individually. The designs were rolled right into the brass itself. An excellent example of this kind of work is the ornate oval backplate of Hepplewhite pulls of the early 1800s with flags, acorns and leaves embossed on them. Another innovation of the Federal period was the reversing of the bail, the handle. In the Queen Anne period, the bail was inserted into the round heads of posts implanted in the backplate. The ends of the bail entered the posts from the inside and the bail hung between the two posts. In the Federal era, the bails entered the post from the outside so that the bail surrounded the posts. But much of that became moot as time rolled on. The Empire period certainly had decorative hardware, but that was the end of it for nearly half a century. The Late Classicism style of the 1830s and 1840s used almost no brass hardware and Rococo Revival and Renaissance Revival used very little. It was only in the Eastlake period in the 1880s that brass hardware became important again.

So, if the hardware is the right style, looks appropriate for the piece and could very well be as old as the piece, how can you tell? The easiest and least intrusive way is simple observation. Over the years, you can bet that not every time that hardware was cleaned some industrious soul removed it from the drawer. The same is true each time the piece got waxed. If the finish was waxed or the brass cleaned while the pull was in place, there will be some residue around the edge of the brass. The buildup of wax or the overflow of brass cleaner will be evident. But that clue is only valid in its presence. Its absence could mean the piece was meticulously maintained or that it has just been deeply cleaned or even refinished.

The 18th-century Chippendale style drawer pulls are totally wrong for this Late Classicism chest, circa 1840/1850. It should have round wooden pulls.

A quick peek inside the drawer might show the presence of holes that once accommodated the fasteners for hardware other than the current resident. The fasteners themselves can be a clue. The hardware of a 17th-century piece would have been held in place by clinched cotter pins on the inside. If there is evidence of that but the current fasteners have threaded posts and nuts, something has been altered. And the threaded posts of an 18th-century piece would have been hand cut and the nuts were usually round. If machine-made threads and octagonal machine-made nuts are visible, something’s up.

As a last resort, if possible, remove the existing hardware from the drawer front. Carefully examine the wood and the finish revealed when the brass is gone. Is there a shadow of another size or differently shaped piece of hardware? Is there an imprint in the finish caused by the sharp edge of another piece?

You best tool is knowledge of what the correct hardware looked like for each style and period in which you have an interest. I have yet to find a book or source that deals adequately with this narrow subject, so as you read related antiques materials, you just have to mentally catalog what hardware looks like for a given style of period.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth

This elaborate wicker chair was made at the height of the Victorian wicker phase in the 1880s and 1890s.

Everybody knows what wicker is. Right? It’s that woven stuff that’s painted white. It may even be that stuff used in some chair seats. Or is that cane? Or rush or reed?

As it turns out, the word wicker in furniture terms actually refers to a process rather than a product. The process is the weaving of pliant flexible plant materials over a frame of some sort to produce a structure of sufficient strength to support various objects, including people. Such natural materials include rattan (a type of climbing palm vine that can reach 600 feet in length), reed (the central core of rattan once the skin is removed) cane (the skin of the rattan), willow (a shrub) and rush (a woven grass like stem). In the 20th century, the process has also included the weaving of man-made and synthetic materials.

Wicker furniture is most often thought of in terms of the late Victorian period of the 1880s and 1890s, and that is a very important time in the history of wicker. But the real story goes back much further than that. The Egyptians were quite adept at weaving natural materials into strong forms. Evidence from drawings on tomb walls indicates the existence of wicker chairs. But the introduction of wicker to the West was, in a roundabout way, the result of the English passion for tea and the Chinese opium wars. In the 18th century, the English became addicted to tea. The tea came from the Orient, producing a drag on the English economy. To pay for the tea, they grew opium in India and traded it to China for tea, enslaving entire populations to the drug in exchange for the mildly invigorating beverage.

This trade eventually opened up the Orient to other Western traders who noticed the unusual type of furniture made from what became known as wicker. They imported this furniture to the United States in the 1840s and it became moderately popular until after the Civil War. After the war, people wanted to leave the big cities and enjoy the open country air and the lightweight woven furniture seemed a perfect fit. This era of wicker furniture was made mostly of rattan and cane in simple utilitarian designs. In its natural finish, it was perceived as healthy and clean but it wasn’t long before more elegant pieces were brought inside and painted to match the other elements of Victorian décor.

This rocker, with round over-arms and crest, and open-weave back and skirt is from the very early 20th century, 1900-1920.

The idea of a natural fiber being used to produce a useful piece of furniture in an inexpensive manner and looking great in a natural finish was instantly appealing to the reformist view of John Ruskin and William Morris, the English founders of the later Arts and Crafts movement. Charles Eastlake even became a proponent of the process and England was originally the world leader in the production of wicker by companies such as Dryad Works, Maple & Co., and Slocomb and Son.

In the United States, a grocer named Cyrus Wakefield watched a sailor about to throw a bundle of rattan overboard in Boston Harbor in 1844. The rattan was used as packing material on long voyages and was discarded after the trip. Wakefield bought the scrap rattan and sold it to basket weavers who stripped the outer core and used the soft inner material in their work. They then sold the hard skin to chair makers who used it to cane chair seats. Wakefield even insisted on spelling the product his way “rattan” instead of the traditional spelling of “ratan.” This was the beginning of the Wakefield Rattan Company that eventually became part of the Heywood-Wakefield Company, the American leader in wicker furniture production in the 20th century.

This is a Lloyd loom-machine woven-fiber wicker chair from the 1950s. (Photo: LiveAuctioneers/DuMouchelles)

By the last quarter of the 19th century, the flower of wicker furniture was in full bloom. In addition to its intrinsic qualities of modest cost and stylistic appeal, it had a feature very seldom found in other Victorian furniture—it was actually comfortable! It was flexible enough to accommodate various sizes and shapes and it allowed air to circulate, producing a cooler perch for over dressed Victorian denizens.

With technological advances in weaving and bending machines in the 1870s, the designs of wicker furniture became much more elaborate and lavishly “Victorian.” After the Centennial Exposition in 1876, even wicker designs were influenced by the Oriental bent seen in some of the traditional furniture of the period. The height of ornate designs was reached in the late 1880s and early 1890s. By then, furniture styles were beginning to be affected by the Arts and Crafts movement and styling became more austere. Even Gustav Stickley had a line of Mission style wicker. The wicker end of the furniture trade at the beginning of the 20th century completely passed over the Art Nouveau movement that began in France and had modest success in the U.S. It looked too much like the frilly Victorian period for them.

The next major event in the wicker industry occurred in 1917, when there was a strike at a wicker production plant in Menominee, Mich. owned by Marshall Lloyd. In response, Lloyd developed a machine that formed a wicker-like substance out of brown paper, sometimes wrapped around a small wire. This was “fiber” wicker. The Lloyd machine could also weave the material into continuous sheets for incorporation into baby carriages, chairs and anything else. It fit nicely with the next new style, Art Deco, which was soon to hit the country. Heywood-Wakefield bought Lloyd in 1921 and produced the bulk of American wicker from then on.

For more information on wicker furniture see “Fine Wicker Furniture 1870-1930,” by Tim Scott, published by Schiffer and “Wicker Furniture – Styles and Prices,” by Robert W. and Harriett Swedberg, Wallace-Homestead.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

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Walter F. picked up this table at a garage sale for $250. His wife loves it and wanted to know more about the piece. After contracting with “Ask a Worthologist,” she was told it dates to about 1925 and is very likely a piece by Oscar Bach, or his former partner Bertram Segar.

Walter F. picked up this table at a garage sale for $250. Its owner had said it was probably from the 1940s and that he’d just purchased it himself at a yard sale the year before from an older gentleman about 80 who was clearing his house and moving to Florida. The owner didn’t really want to sell it; he liked its style. But it really didn’t go with anything they had in the house and his wife said “it had to go.” Walter’s wife, however, is now enamored with it and wants to find out more about it and if he got a good deal or not. He contacted WorthPoint’s “Ask a Worthologist” service to inquire about this piece, its origins and value. Her request was forwarded to me, here’s her question:

“My husband is always dragging things home from yard sales and I have to draw the line on what goes and what stays, but I have to say that with this piece, it definitely stays. I’ve never seen anything like it except in old movies from the 1930s, where they show the lobby of an expensive hotel. I’m not really concerned about the value, but would like to know that, as well as who might have made it and when.”

Here’s my response.

Based on your images, your guess it’s from the 1930s is quite close. It actually dates to about 1925 and is very likely a piece by Oscar Bach, or his former partner Bertram Segar. Pieces by both men are generally marked, but you might have to look close to find them. Of the two, Bach is the best known. He was born in Breslau, Germany in 1884, he studied art at both the Royal Academy of Berlin and the Imperial Academy of Art in Berlin before embarking on a career as a metal smith.

Bach traveled extensively in the Middle East, North Africa and Europe, expanding his knowledge of cultural, design and metal working techniques. Bach arrived in North America in 1911, opening a business in Greenwich Village with his brother Max and Bertram Segar, operating as Bach Brothers, moving shop shortly after to 257 West 17th Street and changing the company name to Oscar B. Bach Studios. The early works were decorative arts pieces created for the upper crust of New York and architectural pieces and fittings for custom-built estates.

By 1923, Bach had split with Segar and moved to a new location, while Segar remained at the old West 17th Street studio. Segar continued to operate there as Segar Studios, but the output of his studio was a mix of reproductions of Bach’s designs or variations on them. Segar did not mark all of his studio pieces, which causes a lot of Segar pieces to be attributed to as “Unmarked Bach” today.*

As you can see, the style of these Bach/Segar pieces is unlike just about anything else at the time, the reason being unlike a great many other studios, Bach worked in a large numbers of styles from Gothic to Art Deco, often mixing styles to get the effect he was looking for. Bach continued to be involved in decorative arts pieces until 1941 and his work can be found in permanent collection in the Minneapolis Museum of Art and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Bach continued to work until his death at age 72 on May 4, 1957.

In regards to value, you can rest assured that Walter did well. At auction, even unmarked tables of this type attributed to Bach or his contemporaries often sell for more than $1,000.

*The Bach pieces were marked in a variety of forms. The earlier ones with a medal that reads “OSCAR B BACH / NEW YORK / STUDIOS INC.” or stamped “OBASO-BRONZE / OSCAR.B.BACH. STUDIOS.” Pieces after the split from Segar in 1923 can have a metal tag with the artist’s name in script. Later pieces from the 1930s could be stamped “OSCAR B. BACH” and tagged “BACH PRODUCTS.”

Mike Wilcox, of Wilcox & Hall Appraisers, is a Worthologist who specializes in Art Nouveau and the Arts and Craft movement.

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This late 1920s buffet made by Berkey & Gay has just enough presence to fit in almost any décor and can be found at a very reasonable price.

The definition of an antique, like many other definitions we have long been comfortable with, has been under pressure for a number of years. What was once considered “junk” is now highly sought after as “collectibles.” Second-hand or used furniture has become “vintage” and anything older than a black-&-white television set is considered to be “antique” . . . by some. And that “some” has the potential to become a major factor in the older and antique furniture business in the future. It’s just a matter of perspective.

For an old Baby Boomer” like me, antiques were made in the 19th century or before, and the stuff our grandparents had was “really old,” while our parents’ furniture was just plain embarrassing. To our children, whose earliest reference point is Big Bird and the Cookie Monster, the 1950s and 1960s were the dark ages and there was nothing worth mentioning before that. But now, those kids are pretty much grown up. They own houses, make car payments and hopefully by now have enough loose spending money to broaden their horizons by doing a little “antiquing.”

But in many cases, antiquing to them is not the quest of a precious piece of a lost past style or art form. It is the search for something that predates them but also has a functional role to play in their crowded lives. Whatever the object, it must fit into their already crowded lifestyle without too many compromises. In other words, the “antique” chair must still be able to be used as seating and the chest of drawers had better work well on a daily basis.

This is not an antique by any definition but it is a most useful piece for almost anybody, especially if crowded for space. Here is a desk, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers all in one. It is called a chifferobe.

Under those restrictions, almost no piece of 18th-century furniture fit, and very few 19th-century pieces do, either. What really works for them, at least in the beginning, is some piece of 20th-century furniture that has a style and flavor totally at odds with most of the rest of their contemporary possessions but is well-enough made to function in today’s lifestyle. And the price tag is realistic enough to afford on their budget. The average 30-something buyer with some newly discovered disposable income and an emerging interest in older and antique furniture probably is not confident enough (yet) or interested enough to spring for $5,000 for a period highboy. But they will shell out $350 at the local antique mall for a nifty looking 1930s chifforette for the guest room. Don’t know what a chifforette is? Perhaps it’s time to brush up on your 20th-century furniture terminology. Don’t forget the old definitions, like armoire, dry sink, banquet table and davenport desk, but add a few new ones to the inventory, like priscilla, oriental walnut and borax.

In previous columns I have mentioned a number of good reference books on 20th-century forms and styles, including “Furniture of the Depression Era” by Swedberg, Collector Books; “Colonial Revival Furniture” by Lindquist/Warren, Wallace Homestead Books; and “American Manufactured Furniture” by Don Fredgant, Schiffer, among others. But there are several more that would be excellent additions to a furniture library in the area of 20th century furniture.

Traditionally styled dining sets like this one never go out of style and an can be acquired at a very reasonable price in today’s market.

There are two good books out on the Heywood-Wakefield phenomenon of mid century. One is by Steve and Roger Rouland titled “Heywood-Wakefield Modern Furniture – Identification and Value Guide”, Collector Books, and the other is “Heywood-Wakefiled – With Price Guide” by Harris Gertz, Schiffer. Both will go a long way toward sorting out the sometimes confusing array of Heywood-Wakefield modern pieces.

If early century wooden chairs are your flavor, take a look at “American Wooden Chairs 1895-1908” edited by Tina Skinner, Schiffer. This is a reprint of the Phoenix Chair Company 1908 catalog with current prices, original catalog numbers and the wood and finish of each chair. Good background reference material.

An Art Moderne style set like this by the famous maker Karges will hold its value over many generations.

For the arty and crafty folks, there are many good publications on the subject but two that will give you a broad look at the furniture of the period without bogging you down in the philosophy that generated it are “Furniture of the Arts and Crafts Period –With Prices” edited and published by L-W Book Sales. It includes examples by Stickley, Limbert, Roycroft and others. The other is “Stickley Brothers Furniture Identification and Value Guide” by Larry Koon, Collector Books. The color photos, many from David Rago Auctions, and the comprehensive descriptions make identification of Stickley material much easier.

To get a handle on what Larkin actually had in the way of furniture, check out “Larkin Oak” by Walter Ayars, published by Echo publishing in Summerdle, Pa.. It is reprints of the Larkin furniture catalog with original prices from 1901 to 1922. The companion volume of “Larkin China” also by Ayars, traces the development of Buffalo Pottery and the imported china offered by Larkin.

Modern designs from Heywood-Wakefield from the 1930s to the 1950s are always in demand.

Phillip Kennedy has a self-published book about nothing but the 20th century kitchen monster known as the Hoosier cabinet. He traces the evolution of the form and sorts out the variations produced by Hoosier Manufacturing Co., Sellers, Napanee, McDougall, Boone and others. If the kitchen is your territory, this is a must have book.

One final overview of good quality furniture of the period can be found in “Popular Furniture of the 1920s and 1930s – From Modern to Traditional,” published by Schiffer. It is a reproduction of the 1920s and 1930s catalog of the Elgin A. Simonds Company, part of the Dent Furniture Company consortium of the Great Depression era. It includes current prices and contains lots of examples you have probably seen before but couldn’t quite identify.

While you may not find exactly the piece you are looking for in any of the publications, they will give you an idea of what things from the period generally looked like and where they may have originated. It’s a good start.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

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Instead of wooden blocks, paint cans or food cans work well for lifting furniture above a wet floor or carpet. Just be sure to use aluminum foil under the cans in case they are rusty or might rust from contact with a wet surface.

In this year of what seems to be extraordinary adverse weather events with tornadoes and flooding, and with more flooding looking imminent as the past winter’s snow pack starts to melt, now seems to be a good time to talk about excess water and its effects on your furniture.

If you are lucky, you will never have standing water in your house to attack your antique furniture. On the other hand, think of how many ways that unfortunate event can occur—some of which you may be able to prevent and others which are totally beyond your control.

Here are just a few of the ways in which water, which will always find a way, can creep into your house—a leaky water heater, a stopped up washing machine drain, a faulty intake connection on the washer, a leaky pipe in the wall, an overflowing toilet, tub or sink, an open window near an irrigation system, a faulty seal on a dishwasher—and these don’t even take in to account things like storms, roof leaks, floods and vandalism.

The first thing to do is turn off the electricity in the house. You don’t need to get electrocuted while you are assessing the damage. Then turn off the water source if possible, either at the offending site or at the street or pump if necessary. Then you can go take care of your antique furniture.

A little soaking with water won’t hurt most wood furniture. It may create a haze, known as “blush” (similar to a ring mark from a wet glass), that is easily repaired. The main damage comes from prolonged exposure or submersion in the intruder. As quickly as possible, you need to get the furniture out of or away from the water. If the problem is simply a household leak, like those listed above, you may just be dealing with saturated carpets and floors. In that case, your most effective and timely response is to simply get the furniture off the floor or wet carpet. Pieces of 2×4 lumber, cut into four-inch blocks, will usually do a great job, lifting table and couch legs 1½ inches off the floor. If necessary, stack the blocks to provide even higher lift. If the furniture is going to be there for a while before it can be moved out completely or before the carpet can be removed, consider putting aluminum foil under the wooden blocks to keep them from getting saturated and transferring moisture to your furniture. Food cans or paint cans also work well. Of course if the water is more than few inches high you need to remove the furniture from the location as soon as it can be done.

Now comes the hard part—the waiting. The furniture needs to dry out before you can do any repairs or before you can even make accurate judgments about the damage. The best way for the furniture to dry is slowly and naturally. Don’t try to use a heat source like a propane heater or a hair dryer to speed up the process. That will only result in more long-term damage. Of course, good air circulation around the room will help things dry a little. Fans and blowers are important tools in this department. If possible, move either the air source or the furniture to different positions so all parts get exposed to drier, moving air.

Without an artificial heat source like a kiln to dry and cure raw wood, it can take years for enough residual moisture to leave new raw lumber so that it can be used for furniture construction. However, in the case of water-damaged older furniture, it doesn’t take that long for the wood to dry out because it probably didn’t get that wet and it probably had some finish on it to protect it somewhat. But it will take more than the few days that it would seem to take. After three or four days the furniture may feel dry to you and, while there may be some apparent damage, it doesn’t look that bad. But it’s not over yet.

The usual outcome of incidental water is simply the finish starting to flake off like on this table leg.

This is the point when a great many homeowners make a mistake by trying to hurry the insurance company. And if the insurance company is smart, it will encourage the homeowner to settle the outstanding claim as quickly as possible. Why? Because a smart adjuster knows that all the damage is not visible yet and once the claim is settled it’s over.

Most furniture damage caused by moderate exposure to water shows up as a haze that appears in the finish, mentioned as “blush” above. This haze is easily removable by a restoration professional using a chemical designed for exactly the purpose. Usually, the result is the return of the original appearance with no loss of sheen or actual finish. However, in some cases, it may result in the finish flaking and falling off. This can also fixed by a touch up artist.

A more serious problem is when the water damaged area turns dark or black. That means the water penetrated through the finish into the wood itself. The discoloration is the result of the tannin in the wood reacting with the water. This is a serious problem and while it can be resolved, it can get expensive and usually involves refinishing the piece. The worst outcome is if the wood actually cracks or splits. In some cases the split is only a glue-joint that has opened and after it dries out can be reglued and clamped back into position. A more serious situation is at hand if the wood itself has actually cracked or split as it expanded and then contracted under the influence of the water. This can require extensive and expensive restoration.

Damage to wood furniture, to both the finish and the wood itself, often takes three weeks or more to be fully visible and even then not all of the damage may be apparent, especially to the novice homeowner or to the insurance adjuster, who may or may not be a furniture restoration expert. When in doubt, the claimant should hire an expert to be on his or her side. Call a local, reputable furniture restoration craftsman and ask them to provide a written estimate for repairing the water damage—not an appraisal, not an evaluation, not a “guesstimate” but a genuine proposal on what they would charge to fix the stuff. The homeowner should be prepared to pay a reasonable amount for this initial estimate and in many cases the insurance company will make reimbursement for it. At the very least, the professional furniture person will most often give credit for the estimate fee on their final bill if they get a significant amount of the work.

In most water damage situations, the beginning of the saga requires quick decisive action to minimize the damage. The second part of the tale requires patience, perseverance and a longer term outlook. Don’t let anybody rush you through this part.

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

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Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

WorthPoint—Discover Your Hidden Wealth