The Bedroom and Boudoir Part 2

It is sometimes difficult to hit exactly upon a plan for a washing-stand for a very small room or corner, and a copy of this Chinese stand (Fig.

17) for a basin and washing appliances, would look very quaint and appropriate in such a situation. Only real, coa.r.s.e, old Indian, or j.a.panese china, would go well with it, however, or it might be fitted with one of those wooden lacquered bowls from Siam, and a water-jar from South America of fine red clay, and of a most artistic and delightful form. There are hundreds of such jars to be bought at Madeira for a shilling or two, and they keep water deliciously cool and fresh.

If a demand arose for them they would probably be imported in large quant.i.ties. All washing-stands are the better for a piece of Indian matting hung at the back, for much necessary flirting and flipping of water goes on at such places, which stains and discolours the wall; but then this matting must constantly be renewed, for nothing can be more forlorn to the eye or unpleasing to the sense of smell, than damp straw is capable of becoming in course of time.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 16.]

For the corner of a boy's bed-room, or for the washing apparatus of that very convenient little cupboard or closet or corner which I always struggle to inst.i.tute _down_-stairs, close to where the gentlemen of the family hang their hats and coats, this (Fig. 18) is a very good design.

It is simple in form and steady in build, and a long towel over a roller just behind it will be found useful. The towel need not be so coa.r.s.e as the kitchen "round" one, from which it is copied; and above all things do not have it _hard_. It is a needless addition to the unavoidable miseries of life to be obliged to dry your hands in a hurry on a new huckaback towel.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 17.]

Many charming basin-stands have I seen extemporised out of even a shelf in a corner; but such contrivances are perhaps too much of make-shifts to ent.i.tle them to mention here, only one hint would I give. Take care that your washing-stand is sufficiently low to enable you to use it with comfort. I once knew a very splendid and elaborate basin-stand, extending over the whole side of a dressing-room, which could only be approached by mounting three long low steps. I always felt thankful when my ablutions had ended and left my neck still unbroken.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 18.]

CHAPTER VI.

THE TOILET.

There is no prettier object in either bed-room or boudoir than the spot where "the toilet stands displayed." Whether it be a shrine _a la d.u.c.h.esse_ (Fig. 19) or the simplest form of support for a mirror, it will probably be the most interesting spot in the room to its fair owner. Consequently there is nothing upon which the old love of decoration has more expended itself even from its earliest days, or which modern upholstery makes more its special study than this truly feminine shrine. I will say nothing of mirrors with three sides which represent you as a female "Cerberus, three ladies in one," or indeed of mirrors of any sort or kind, as our business lies at this moment more with the tables on which they should stand. These can be found or invented of every imaginable form, and contain every conceivable convenience for receiving and hiding away the weapons which beauty (or rather would-be-beauty, which is not at all the same thing) requires.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 19.]

Here (Fig. 20) is a sort of old-fashioned _tiroir_ of an exquisite simplicity, and with but little s.p.a.ce outside for the "paraphernalia" of odds and ends which the law generously recognises as the sole and individual property of even a married woman. Such articles would need to be stowed away in one of its many drawers. Instead of the frivolous drapery which would naturally cover a deal toilet-table, the only fitting drapery for this beautiful old piece of furniture (of French design evidently) would be an embroidered and fringed strip of fine linen which should hang low down on either side. In a darksome room, imagine how the subdued brightness of its metal mountings would afford coigns of vantage to every stray sunbeam or flickering ray from taper or fire! And in its deep, commodious drawers too, might be neatly stowed away every detail of toilet necessaries. On it should stand a mirror which must imperatively be required to harmonise, set in a plain but agreeable frame without anything to mar the severe simplicity of the whole. There are several pieces of old furniture, however, which are better adapted to be used as toilet-tables than the subject of the ill.u.s.tration. Such a piece of furniture is more suitable when it is divided, as is often the case, into three compartments, the centre one being considerably further back than the side-pieces. In this way a place is secured for the knees, when seated at it, and this central cupboard, when filled with shelves, makes an excellent receptacle for brushes and combs, and so forth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 20.]

The defect of these old _tiroirs_ is that they are rather small and low, and consequently look best in a small room, but they offer great variety of decorative embellishment (Fig. 21), and are very satisfactory, as stands for a small oval toilet-gla.s.s in an old frame to match. The designs too of the bra.s.s mountings for door and drawer are nearly always exceedingly beautiful, and vary from the simplest shining ring to a small miracle of artistic brazen work. These shining handles take away a good deal from the severity of decorative treatment which would naturally exist in the rest of the room, and it is under such conditions, where form takes precedence of colour, that we learn the full value of these little traps to attract and keep a warm glitter of light.

Here is a simpler design for a toilet-table (Fig. 22) which would look very well standing between the windows of a lofty room. If it was found that a good light for the looking-gla.s.s had been sacrificed to the general harmony of the room, then a smaller gla.s.s might be placed _in_ a window, just for occasional use.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 21.]

Some of the old-fashioned "toilet-equipages" are very beautiful just as they have come down to us. They are occasionally made in silver, and comprise many articles which cannot by any possibility be brought within the faith or practice of a modern belle. Still they offer charming forms for imitation, especially in the frames of the old hand-mirrors, whose elaborate simplicity (if one may use such a paradox) puts to shame the more ornate taste of their modern subst.i.tutes. Next to silver or tortoise-sh.e.l.l, I like ivory, as the material for a really beautiful and artistic set of toilet appendages, its delicious creamy tint going especially well with all shades of blue in a room. But I prefer the surface of the ivory kept plain and not grotesquely carved as you get it in China or j.a.pan, for dust and dirt always take possession of the interstices, and lead to the things being consigned to a drawer. Now I cannot endure to possess any thing of any kind which had better be kept out of sight wrapped carefully away under lock and key. My idea of enjoying ownership is for my possession to be of such a nature that I can see it or use it every day--and all day long if I choose--so I shall not be found recommending anything which is "too bright and good for human nature's daily food." I have seen toilet-tables under difficulties, that is on board of real sea-going yachts, where it has been necessary to sink a little well into which each brush, box or tray securely fitted; and I have seen toilet-tables in Kafir-Land covered with common sixpenny cups and saucers, and shown as presenting a happy combination of use and ornament, strictly in conformity with "Engleez fa.s.son."

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 22.]

But perhaps our business does not lie so much with these as with the ordinary dressing-table which is now more used in the modern shape of a convenient table with a scoop out of the middle, beneath which the knees can fit when you are seated at it, and with a couple of drawers on each side. This too is covered by a white _serviette_ of some sort, and supports a large toilet-gla.s.s of equally uncompromising utility and convenience. But however readily these good qualities may be conceded to the modern toilet-table it is but an uninteresting feature in an ideal bower. If the room be an essentially modern one, and especially if it be in the country, nothing affords a prettier spot of colour in it, than the old-fashioned toilet-table of deal covered with muslin draperies over soft-hued muslin or batiste. Of course the caricature of such an arrangement may be seen any day in the fearful and detestable toilet-table with a skimpy and coa.r.s.e muslin flounce over a tight-fitting skirt of glaring pink calico, but this is a parody on the ample, convenient stand for toilet necessaries, the draperies of which should be in harmony with the other colours of the room. It would need however to possess many changes of raiment, in order that it may always be kept up to the mark of spotless freshness. These draperies are prettier of plain soft white muslin without spot or figure of any kind, and may consist of two or three layers, draped with all the artistic skill the constructor thereof possesses. It is also an improvement, if instead of only a hideous crackle of calico beneath, there be a full flounce or petticoat of batiste which would give colour and graceful folds together. This is a very humble arrangement I know, but it can be made as effective as if it cost pounds instead of pence. And this is one of the strong points in all hints on decoration, that they should be of so elastic a nature as to be capable of expansion under favourable circ.u.mstances, though not beyond the reach of extremely slender resources.

I do not recommend draped mirrors for modern toilet-tables on account of the danger from fire, and I like the style and frame of the looking-gla.s.s on the table to harmonise thoroughly with the rest of the furniture.

CHAPTER VII.

ODDS AND ENDS OF DECORATION.

It seems a pity that sofas and chairs made of straw or bamboo should not be more used than they are. I mean, used as they come from the maker's hands, _not_ painted or gilded, and becushioned and bedizened into hopeless vulgarity. They are only admissible _au naturel_, and should stand upon their own merits. Those we have as yet attempted to make in England are exceedingly weak and ugly compared with the same sort of thing from other countries. In Madeira, for instance, the chairs, baskets, and even tables, are very superior in strength and durability, as well as in correctness of outline, to those made in England; and when we go further off, to the East, we find a still greater improvement in furniture made of bamboo. Here is a chair (Fig. 23), of a pattern familiar to all travellers on the P. and O. boats, and whose acquaintance I first made in Ceylon. It is essentially a gentleman's chair, however, and as such is sinking into an honoured and happy old age in the dingy recesses of a London smoking-room. Without the side-wings, which serve equally for a table or leg-rest, and with the seat elongated and slightly depressed, such a chair makes a delicious, cool lounge for a lady's use in a verandah.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 23.]

Then here (Fig. 24) is a Chinese sofa made of bamboo which, in its own country, would probably not be enc.u.mbered with cushions, for they can be removed at pleasure. Where, however, there is no particular inducement to use cane or bamboo, then it would be better to have made by the village carpenter a settee--or settle, which is the real word--something like this. The form is, at all events correct; and in a private sitting-room, furnished and fitted to match, the effect would be a thousand times better than the modern couches, which are so often padded and stuffed into deformity.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 24.]

Nothing can be simpler than the lines of the design, as is seen in this drawing (Fig 25B), without the cushions; and it would come within the scope of the most modest upholstering genius. In one's own little den--which, by the way, I should _never_ myself dignify by the name of boudoir, a word signifying a place to idle and sulk in, instead of a retreat in which to be busy and comfortable--such odds and ends of furniture, so long as there be one distinct feeling running through it all, are far more characteristic than commonplace sofas and chairs.

If one _must_ have large armchairs in a boudoir, or in a bed-room, here is one (Fig. 26) which is big enough in all conscience, and yet would go more harmoniously with an old-fashioned room than any fat and dumpy modern chair. If, on the other hand, the house in general, and this particular room, chances to be essentially in the style of the present day, then you would naturally choose some of the comfortable modern easy-chairs, taking care to avoid the shapes which are a ma.s.s of padded and cushioned excrescences. But modern armchairs can be very pretty, and I know several which are low and long, and straight and una.s.suming, and which yet preserve quite a good distinct outline. Such chairs as these are a sort of half-way house between bed and board, between absolute rest and uncomplaining unrest; famous places for thinking, for watching, for chatting, and, above all, for dozing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 25A.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 25B.]

The bed-rooms I am thinking of and writing about have, we must bear in mind, a certain element of the bower or boudoir or private sitting-room in them, and so I must stand excused for a suggestion about a place for books or music. Here is a delightful corner for a piano (Fig. 27), but sometimes such a thing is out of the question, and it is only possible to find s.p.a.ce for a few shelves. These can always be made suitable and pretty either of a simple old form in plainest oak to match the severe lines of an old-fashioned room, or of deal painted black, varnished, with a gilt line grooved in front, and a bit of bright leather to go with a more modern room. To my mind books are always the best ornaments in any room, and I never feel at home in any place until my beloved and often shabby old friends are unpacked and ranged in their recess. I once extemporised a capital book case out of a blocked-up window, and with, a tiny sc.r.a.p of looking-gla.s.s let in where the arch of the window began its spring, and filled by some old bowls of coa.r.s.e but capital old china, whose gaudy colours could only be looked at safely from a distance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 26.]

As time goes on, one is sure, in such a beloved little den, to acc.u.mulate a great deal of rubbish dear, perhaps, only to the owner for the sake of a.s.sociation. Which of us has not, at some tender time of our lives, regarded a withered flower, or valueless pebble, as our great earthly treasure? So, in later days, a plate, a cup, a pipe will be precious, perhaps, to one as mementoes of the place and companions where and with whom it was bought. But if such trifles, though too dear to be laid aside, are yet not intrinsically good enough to form part of a collection, and to take a prominent share in decoration, then I would either stand them aside on a little _etagere_ like that to be found on page 79, or else get the carpenter to put up graduated shelves, which may be quite pure and simple in taste and yet suit the rest of the room. This (Fig. 28) is a capital valuable hint to keep photographs or prints at hand, and yet in safety. Take my advice, and don't have fringe or mock lace, or gilt nails at the edges by way of decoration. Have a nice piece of wood, walnut, oak, even varnished pine, if you choose, neatly finished off at the edge, or, if it suits the rest of the room, black, with a little narrow gilt line in a depression. I think something ingenious might be done with j.a.panese tea-trays, taking care to choose good designs.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 27.]

The worst of such a dear delightful den as I am imagining, or rather describing, is the tendency of the most incongruous possessions to acc.u.mulate themselves in it as time goes on. What do you think of a pitcher like this (Fig. 29) standing in one corner, just because, though of common ware, and rather coa.r.s.ely modelled, the colour of the earthen-ware is delicious in tone, and the design bold and free? It was brought from South America, and cost only six shillings, or thereabouts, but if it had cost as many pounds it could not have been more thoroughly in harmony with the surroundings of its new home.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 28.]

One hint may not be out of place here, and that is with respect to table-covers. Many people are fond of covering up writing-tables, and every occasional table, with a cloth; and these draped tables are generally great eyesores in an ill-arranged room. The covers seldom harmonise, and now-a-days many hideous pieces of work are accomplished in the name of the School of Art which are far removed from the artistic and beautiful designs which alone proceed from the School itself. There indeed you may find patterns which would go beautifully with any old-time furniture, and which might be worked on deliciously neutral tints of cloth or serge. But beware of staring, gaudy table-covers, of shabby material, of which the best that can be hoped is that they may speedily fade into better harmony. The Queen Anne tables were never intended by their designer to be covered up by drapery. They are generally inlaid in delicate designs, which it would be a sin to conceal; nor could we afford to lose the slender grace of the legs. The clumsy, ill-finished cheap table of the present day is all the better for a cover, and wonders may be done in improving a bare, cold, unhappy-looking room, by a good table-cover here and there, or a nicely embroidered sofa-pillow of cloth or satin, or, better still, one of those lovely new low screens, with the tall tufts of gra.s.s or lilies which we owe to Walter Crane's skilful pencil.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 29.]

I confess I like a room to look as if it were inhabited, and that is the only drawback that the rooms furnished in the seventeenth century style have in my eyes. You scarcely ever feel as if any one lived in them--there are seldom any signs of occupation, especially feminine occupation, lying about, no "litter," in fact; litter being a powerful weapon in the hands of a person who knows how to make a room look comfortable. Then I am told that litter is incongruous in a Queen Anne room, for that the women of those days had not the same modes of employment as ourselves. The greatest ladies, if they were blessed with an energetic temperament, only gave it free scope with their medicine chest or in their still-room or linen closet; while the lazy ones were obliged to dawdle away a good deal of their time in bed or at their elaborate toilettes. But still I am always longing to overlay a little of the modish primness of the distant days we are now copying, with something of this busy nineteenth century's tokens of a love of art or literature. And in a room with any claim to a distinct individuality of its own, this would always be the case.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE SICK-ROOM.

However skilfully designed the arrangements of a house may appear to be, however sumptuously decorated and furnished its rooms, it is impossible to know whether a great law of common sense and practical usefulness has guided such arrangements, until there has been an illness in the house.

Then will it be discovered--too late alas!--whether doors and windows open conveniently, whether fireplaces give out proper warmth, how the apparatus for ventilation works, and whether the staircases, landings, cupboards, and a thousand unconsidered items of the architect's labours have been planned in the best possible way, or in the stupidest. For the comfort and convenience of the patient at such times, it is by no means necessary that much money should have been spent on the construction of the house that chances to shelter him in his hour of suffering, nor that its furnitures or decorations should be of a costly character.

Fortunately such things need not aim at anything higher than cleanliness and convenience, and we only require to exert our own recollections in support of this a.s.sertion. As far as my individual experience goes, I have seen an old woman, who had been bed-ridden for years, more comfortably housed and tended beneath a cottage roof, and her room kept more exquisitely clean and sweet than that of many wealthy patients in splendid houses. Of course everything depends on the capacity for organisation and arrangement in the person who has charge of the invalid, but the nurse's task may be made much easier by having to perform it in a bed-room and under conditions which are in accordance with the exigencies of such a time.

Many smart and pretty-looking bed-rooms are discovered by their sick owner to be very different abodes to what they seemed to him in health.