ELEPHANT AUTOMATON
Mia Jackson, Waddesdon’s decorative arts curator, on 18thcentury automata
Queen Victoria invited herself to lunch in 1890 and was impressed by the electric lighting, and the menu
setting is based on a photograph of the room taken in Ferdinand’s day. ‘These flowers are silk, but originally they were fresh. Just imagine what the room must have smelled like,’ says Jacobs. In the anteroom Conservatory, next door, musicians played and marble wine fountains flanked the door. Those seated one side of the table could look out on to the gardens. Those on the other side had beautiful, flower-filled Beauvais tapestries to admire. At night, the light from two huge chandeliers and a pair of putti
held candelabrum, which perch either side of the chimney piece, was reflected in five gilt-framed mirrors that came from the Paris house of the Duc de Villars.
With such luxury on o er no wonder a roll call of illustrious guests came to visit. Queen Victoria invited herself to lunch in 1890 and was impressed by the newly installed electric lighting, and the menu. She sent her chef to learn the recipes she had enjoyed, and presented Ferdinand with the bust of herself that stands on a table in the Baron’s Room, his inner sanctum.
Only favoured guests were ever invited to this part of the house. For all his largesse, at heart Ferdinand was a reserved man of finicky taste, preferring to eat plain food while the guests feasted, and sometimes retreating to his domain to escape the social demands made on him by his visitors. The writer Henry James said that he liked Ferdinand and could have been more friendly if ‘they had met in conditions less inhuman,’ referring to Waddesdon.
Other guests also had their quibbles. The Shah of Persia was insulted that the Prince of Wales was unable to visit at the same time as him, and stayed in his room sulking. ‘The only thing that cheered him up was seeing Ferdinand’s poodle, Poupon, performing tricks along the East Gallery, and watching the musical Elephant Automaton repeatedly play,’ says Jacobs. With its twitching gold trunk and twirling jewelled flowers, the Elephant Automaton remains a favourite with visitors today. ‘ We still make it work once a month, and it features on YouTube and even has its own Twitter account,’ says Jacobs.
Ferdinand would doubtless be delighted to know one of his ‘gimcracks’ had such lasting appeal.
The extraordinary Elephant Automaton, a star of the Waddesdon Collection, was made in London in 1774 by Hubert Martinet. The elephant stands an imposing 1.3m high on a purpose-built carved oak base. When wound up with its two keys it plays four tunes, and the complex mechanisms make the trunk, tail and ears twitch, the eyes move, the circular jewelled motifs spin, turbaned figures on the top turn, figures appear in the howdah, the flower petals rotate, the musicians on each corner spin round and the low relief figures in the lower section move.
FUNCTION
Large 18th- century automata, often known as ‘sing-song clocks’ were chie!y made for the export trade to China and India, usually as diplomatic gifts for high-ranking of "cials, or as marriage gifts. Such was their popularity, there is a museum devoted to them in Beijing. In Europe, they were also regarded as highly prestigious objects, often displayed in travelling exhibitions, for the general public to enjoy the virtuoso mechanical marvels. Hubert Martinet is known to have exhibited an elephant automaton, possibly this one, in Paris in 1774.
THE MAKER
Hubert Martinet (active c1768–1790) worked as a clockmaker and retailer in Paris and London, where he had a workshop in Clerkenwell. Details of his life are sketchy, but he is known to have supplied the Duc d’Orléans with two clocks for the Palais-Royal and to have made several other elephant automata: the inventory of his stock drawn after bankruptcy in 1777 lists three elephant clocks. There are examples of his work in the Topkapi Palace, Istanbul and in Basel at the Historisches Museum.
MANUFACTURE
Patinated bronze, ormolu, mother of pearl and paste jewels all combine to give the elephant its sumptuous appearance. The complexity of the design and mechanics of automata such as this meant that they were extremely costly to make, and required the involvement of numerous specialist craftsmen outworkers, including bronze casters, jewellers, chasers and case makers. Martinet probably "nanced the production and the perils of the enterprise are underlined by the fact that his business went bankrupt in 1777.
THE DESIGN
Symbols of strength and courage, elephants have featured in European painting and applied arts, including clocks, since Renaissance times. Other motifs such as mermaids, turbaned "gures, shells and lion masks add to the opulent oriental theme. The scale of oversized !owers and shells compared with the "gures, and the use of both oriental and Western motifs are typical of automata of this period and are probably a consequence of the numerous craftsmen involved.
RIVAL MAKER
Arguably the best-known maker of 18th- century automata, and Hubert Martinet’s chief competitor, James Cox was an entrepreneur goldsmith. He was also proprietor of a private museum in Spring Gardens, a popular London attraction at which he exhibited his automata, including elephants. Cox’s most famous creations are the Silver Swan, which swims on a stream made of twisted glass rods, turns its head, and picks up and eats "sh, on display at The Bowes Museum, Barnard Castle; and the 10ft-tall Peacock Clock at the Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg.
WHERE TO SEE
Apart from the Elephant and Silver Swan there are other interesting examples of automata at York Castle Museum and the British Museum.