Bilston enamels were ‘the epitome of 18th-century charm’ writes Susan Benjamin in her book, English Enamel Boxes: From the Eighteenth to the Twentieth Centuries. But the trouble with identifying Bilston is that there were no big factories, and no identifying marks.
How do you know it's Bilston?
‘Identifying Bilston is an inexact science,’ explains specialist dealer Martyn Edgell. ‘It was a cottage industry. A single box involved lots of different workers and workshops, often interconnected families, each contributing in a different way. One person might specialise in making hinges, for example, another stamped out the copper sheets, and someone else applied the enamel, or painted the flowers. So when we talk about Bilston enamel, we’re usually using this term quite loosely for enamelware made from around the 1750s onwards in south Staffordshire, possibly as far afield as Liverpool and Birmingham.’
The history of enamelling
The history of enamelling on metal stretches back centuries. It’s a complex process that essentially involves fusing powdered glass onto metal by heating it at high temperatures. In the 18th century, exquisite gold and enamel boxes were produced by high-society jewellers in London and Paris to delight their deep-pocketed, aristocratic clientele.
By the 1740s, much more affordable copper-based painted enamels started to be made on a commercial scale, with production at first concentrated in Battersea.
The London enamellers’ output was soon eclipsed by south Staffordshire, centring on the village of Bilston. The area was already the world’s epicentre for specialist metal manufacture – shoe buckles, clock hands, hinges – so it was well-suited to the development of the enamel trade.
As well as boxes, the Bilston enamel-makers produced larger items like candlesticks and tea caddies, smaller posy holders, perfume bottles, cloak pins and needlecases, and innumerable other enamelled trinkets. But it’s the little boxes, usually measuring no more than two inches, that were produced in the highest volumes.
The three main kinds of box
John Jaffa, director of The Antique Enamel Company, explains there were three main kinds of box: ‘Patch boxes are easy to spot as they have a mirror, so you can check where you’re placing your beauty spot, and there was apparently a ‘secret’ code, so you wanted to make sure you got it right.
Snuff boxes were designed for storing snuff – a fashionable habit – and the bonbonnières, in a novelty shape like a bird or animal, were for sweets. They might be given as party favours – rather like at a wedding nowadays, the host of a hunting party might give his guests a parting gift: a novelty bonbonnière topped with a snipe or pheasant,’ he explains. ‘Within those categories, there was huge variation in shape, size and style.’
The boxes give an interesting glimpse into a particular moment of Britain’s social history, thinks Martyn. The Georgians called things like this ‘toys’; little trifles designed as much for amusement as any practical purpose. ‘They mainly seem to have been given and received by the rising middle classes – those who had money to travel and buy nice things. Think of the kinds of people you read about in Jane Austen’s novels, going to fashionable spas like Tunbridge Wells or Bath, or the new seaside resorts such as Margate and Brighton.’
"They mainly seem to have been given and received by the rising middle classes; people who had money to travel and buy nice things"
On their return, they might present a much-missed friend (or social rival) with a box topped with the message: ‘A trifle from Buxton’, or perhaps Harrogate, or Scarborough, or any of the other exciting new destinations that attracted those with time and money. Or perhaps they’d opt for a patriotic box commemorating an important event, like the victory over Napoleon at the Battle of the Nile, or bearing the portrait of British naval hero Nelson.
The box-makers were also savvy business people. When the American Revolution was raging across the Atlantic, Bilston’s enamellers spotted a commercial opportunity, and shipped boxes to the Americas bearing George Washington’s portrait and celebrating American liberty.
Bilston boxes have simple charm yet are incredibly complex
More than two centuries after they were made, the inscriptions can still be very touching; evidence of a connection between two people, their identities now unknown: ‘When this you see pray think on me, Th’o many miles we distant be’.
They range from the sweetly affectionate: ‘Who opens this Must have a kiss’, to the decidedly saucy: ‘To love at night is my delight’. With their appealing mottos, sometimes in misspelled French, and naive decoration, Bilston boxes have a simple charm.
However, there’s nothing simple about the way they were made, emphasises John. ‘Even though they’re little things, they’re incredibly complex. One small box might have 17 or more components. And the processes used to make them were technically demanding. For example, every time a new colour of enamel was applied, it had to be fired again, at thousands of degrees.’
By the 1830s Bilston boxes fell out of fashion
Enamel-making flourished in Bilston and the surrounding areas for less than a hundred years. By the 1830s – like the taking of snuff and the wearing of beauty spots – the fashion for Bilston boxes had fallen away. As the Industrial Revolution escalated in the Wolverhampton area, it’s likely the skilled workers could find better paid work in other manufactories.
With their appealing mottos and naive decoration, Bilston boxes have a simple charm. However, there’s nothing simple about the way they were made
Condition and rarity affect desirability
Later, in the mid 19th century, a Parisian company called Samson started copying the earlier Bilston designs – sometimes like for like.
This can trip up novice collectors, says John. ‘To the untrained eye, the later French boxes can be hard to tell apart. But the metalware on them, the hinges and the mounts, are of significantly poorer quality.’
As with any field of collecting, condition affects desirability. ‘Nobody wants a smashed box,’ cautions John, though a degree of restoration, if well done, might be acceptable to some collectors.
Rarity also has a big impact on price. For example, bonbonnières topped with spaniels or birds, like a thrush or blue tit, are quite common. Rarer examples – frogs, rabbits, cherubs, lemons, melons, even gherkins – can make several times more.
And for collectors, there’s always the tantalising possibility that they’ll stumble upon something entirely novel. As John puts it, ‘Even after many decades, I still come across boxes that I’ve never seen before. I am still finding new things that surprise me.’
