A gold cagework boîte à miniatures, Pierre-François Drais, Paris, 1767, the miniatures by Louis-Nicolas van Blarenberghe, signed and dated 1767

rectangular with cut corners, the lid, sides and base with gouache subjects on vellum by Louis-Nicolas van Blarenberghe, the lid miniature signed bottom right: van Blarenberghe and dated: 1767, the miniature on the lid painted with members of the aristocracy being welcomed to a country shooting competition, a windmill and a river in the distance, the base painted with the comic dramas ensuing from the visit of a troupe of performing monkeys, the side panels with the games of blind man’s buff and ninepins and other country pursuits, the corners with farm animals and landscapes, contained within gold cagework chased with alternating acanthus and darted ovolos on reeding, maker's mark indistinct, charge and discharge marks of Jean-Jacques Prévost, date letter, contremarque for 1768-1774, the front rim engraved: Drais à Paris, the left rim with scratched numerals (Rundell's stock number): 2617 (twice)

Said to be collection of King George IV (see below);
Sale of the remaining stock of the royal goldsmiths, Rundell, Bridge & Co.,  at Christie’s London, commencing 13 July 1842 and continuing for 9 days, lot 774;
purchased for 83 guineas by ‘Munster’, perhaps William FitzClarence, 2nd Earl of Munster (1824-1901), son of George FitzClarence (1794-1842), first Earl and illegitimate son of William IV and Mrs Jordan;
Anonymous vendor, Christie’s Geneva, 14/15 November 1983, lot  646; Private collection, Europe

In his recent catalogue of the gold boxes in the Wallace Collection, op. cit. p. 159, Charles Truman suggests that the current box would appear to have been lot 774 in the Rundell, Bridge & Co. sale of 1842, adding 'A pencil note in the margin of the auctioneer's book may indicate the previous owner, King George IV'. George, the 'Great Accumulator', was an assiduous client of Rundell's, indeed their 'greatest patron and best friend', commissioning modern jewellery and plate as well as acquiring choice items from the firm's large stock of antique works of art and eighteenth century snuff boxes. According to Kathryn Jones, op. cit., p. 217, George had accumulated a collection of 330 boxes by the time of his death in 1830. Of these, 305 were sold back to Rundell's by William IV (for the sum of £2,552 7s 6d) towards defraying his debts - George and his brothers were notoriously slow to pay their many suppliers. Part of Christie's advertisement for the Rundell, Bridge & Co. sale in The Times (Thursday, 30 June 1842, p. 8e) reads, 'a most select and costly ASSEMBLAGE of PRECIOUS STONES . . . together with a great variety of bijouterie and articles of less importance, though of much interest; snuff-boxes with exquisite enamel portraits by Petitot and Zincke, many of them from the cabinets of Queen Charlotte and George IV. . . .' Should any doubts remain about Truman's identification of the box, further confirmation is given by the presence of the Rundell's stock numbers appearing twice on the left rim. These scratched numbers were first identified by John Culme in 1975 (op. cit., p. 162) as appearing on new plate sold by the firm; the latest numbers appearing to be in the 7000 range. Subsequent observation confirmed that the stock numbers also appeared on antique items sold by Rundell's (for example, a pair of Queen Anne bowls and covers, Pierre Platel, London, circa 1710, scratched with stock number: 3519, sold Sotheby's London, 6 July 2010, lot 4). It is probable that the presence of the same early number scratched twice on this box indicates that it was both sold to George IV and taken back into stock with the same number. This could explain how Christie's knew, in 1842, the earlier provenance of the box unless they had been given the information by word of mouth.

Monique Maillet-Chassagne & Irène de Château-Thierry, Catalogue raisonné des œuvres des Van Blarenberghe 1680-1826, Paris, 2004, p. 377, 2-705-1-10;
Charles Truman, The Wallace Collection Catalogue of Gold Boxes, London, 2013, p. 159

Associated literature:
Correspondance complête de Mme Du Deffand avec la Duchesse de Choiseul, l’Abbé Barthélemy & M. Craufort, Paris, 1866;
Andray/Hallays/Engerand, Chanteloup, Tours, 1928;
Jehanne d’Orliac, Chanteloup du XIIIe siècle au XXe siècle, Tours, 1929; Jehanne d'Orliac, La Duchesse de Choiseul, Tours, 1947; Grandjean/Piacenti/Truman/Blunt, The James A. Rothschild Collection at Waddesdon Manor: Gold Boxes and Miniatures of the Eighteenth Century, Fribourg, 1975;
Dora Wiebenson, The Picturesque Garden in France, Princeton, 1978;
John Culme, 'Beauty and the Beast: The Growth of Mechanisation in the Trade', Proceedings of the Society of Silver Collectors, vol. II, nos. 9/10, 1980, pp. 158-164;
Monique Maillet-Chassagne, Une dynastie de peintres lillois, les Van Blarenberghe, Paris, 2001;
Xavier Salmon, Louis-Nicolas van Blarenberghe à Versailles, Paris, 2005; Christopher Hartop, Exhibition catalogue, Royal Goldsmiths: The Art of Rundell & Bridge 1797-1843, Koopman Fine Art, London, 2005;
Exhibition catalogue, Les Van Blarenberghe, des reporters du XVIIIe siècle, musée du Louvre, 2006;
Exhibition catalogue, Chanteloup – un moment de grâce du duc de Choiseul, musée des Beaux Arts, Tours, 2007;
Véronique Moreau, ‘Les jardins du duc de Choiseul à Chanteloup’, for symposium l’Esprit des jardins : entre tradition et création, Tours, 2008; Kathryn Jones, 'Gold Boxes in the British Royal Collection', Going for Gold, Victoria & Albert Museum, 2014    

The left panel (looking at the box) is ever-so-slightly convex, sloping down at the edges, as is the lid. The miniature under the left panel is slightly askew, down at the upper left corner by a millimetre or so. This would suggest that the glazing on these panels has been replaced.One lid pin lacking at the back, The lid and base lining with a handful of pin pricks and some creases. The miniatures are in excellent unfaded condition apart from a minor paint flaking in area of building on front right corner panel and sliver of paint loss in sky on right margin on back right corner panel. slightly paler on the lid - a rare, beautiful and historic box.
"In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective, qualified opinion. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."

The Van Blarenberghe family created, in miniature, an unrivalled view of life in 18th century France. Their subjects ranged from peasant games to court life, from châteaux to the streets of Paris, from battles and precise port views executed by royal command to opera singers and singeries, from reality to the imaginary, but always with tiny added twists of drama or humour that bring something new to each fresh examination of their work. A case in point is the fainting woman on the base of this box, revived by a bucket of water but ignored by the animal tamer who shouts imprecations at his coy escaped monkey, well out of reach on a branchless tree. A recent exhibition at the Louvre imaginatively called the Van Blarenberghes, ‘reporters of the 18th century’, but how fortunate we are that they were obliged to paint rather than use cameras. To frame Van Blarenberghe miniatures with exquisite goldwork in a snuff box was the perfect arrangement as the gouache miniatures can be seen at just the right distance, they are protected by their crystal covering and each face of the box can be displayed by the proud owner with the flick of a wrist. Louis-Nicolas Van Blarenberghe (1716-1794),  artist of the miniatures on this box, was already the third generation of a line of painters born and trained in the Flemish tradition of painting in Lille, a town which had become French in 1668. Fighting came again to the area in the 1740s with the wars of the Austrian Succession but it is not known whether it was this or the early death of his wife the previous year which brought Louis-Nicolas to Paris in 1751. Here his distinctive style soon found favour and patronage from the highest in the land including commissions from the duc de Chevreuse, the duc de Choiseul, the Prince de Condé and Cardinal de Rohan. In 1768 he was commissioned by Catherine the Great to commemorate the installation of the statue of Peter the Great in two large paintings and several snuff boxes and is believed to have travelled to St Petersburg via the Danish court. Louis-Nicolas had already worked for Louis XV but in 1769 was appointed ‘peintre des batailles’, an accolade confirmed by Louis XVI who also created him ‘peintre des ports et côtes’ in 1775. Indeed his son Henri-Joseph (1750-1826) received training from 1765 in the Engineer-Geographers’ studio at Versailles, married one of the queen’s chambermaids and continued giving drawing lessons to the Dauphin in the Temple prison almost until the child’s death.

The miniature on the lid of this box is signed and dated 1767 and so painted at a time when Louis-Nicolas was largely concentrating on commissions for snuff boxes from his aristocratic and royal patrons. The miniature has been linked to another, later mounted in the 19th century by Alexandre Leferre, and also showing a fête with a windmill behind (Wallace Collection, Inv G36, Truman, op. cit., no. 35). In fact, the present miniature is more interesting as it appears to represent a more detailed and realistic geographical landscape with fields descending past a village church to a wide curving river with islands and a bridge. On the right, aristocrats arrive at the pastoral event, perhaps the inauguration of the moulin à pivot which is festooned with garlands and celebrated by a shooting match between various contestants with crossbows; targets for such matches were often hung from the sails of windmills although none is yet visible here. Behind the aristocrats can be seen a rocky monticule with the entrance to a grotto or ice house; above is a shimmering marble statue representing Venus bathing. It is evident that the Van Blarenberghes liked to include their patrons in their paintings as on the snuff box with views of the château de Bellevue, Paris, 1777, (Sotheby’s London, 29 November 2005, lot 47) during a royal visit or the celebrated box of 1770 set with views of the interior of the duc de Choiseul's Paris hôtel which shows on the lid the duke accompanied by his latest mistress, the comtesse de Brionne, the Abbé Barthélemy and various other figures (A. Kenneth Snowman, Eighteenth Century Gold Boxes of Europe, Woodbridge, 1990, pls. 437-442). In 1767 Louis-Nicolas visited for the first time the duc de Choiseul's country estate of Chanteloup in Touraine and painted views of the château and its extensive grounds for another splendid box, now in the Wrightsman Collection at the Metropolitan Museum, New York (Snowman, op. cit., pls. 417-9). It has been suggested that the miniature on the lid of the present box, painted and dated in the same year, might also represent an idealised view of the grounds of Chanteloup looking down towards Amboise and its bridge over the islands in the Loire. The figure of the cleric accompanying the aristocrats is very similar to the later rendition of the Abbé Barthélemy who was keeper of the King's medals, an antiquarian and a faithful friend of the duke and particularly the duchess, perhaps here represented by the figure in an opulent blue gown followed by a black page.

The duc de Choiseul (1719-1785) had purchased Chanteloup in 1761 on his appointment as governor-general of Touraine, acquiring also the forêt d’Amboise through a shrewd exchange with the king, and proceeded to 'improve' château, gardens and park according to the latest fashions. It should be noted that 1767 was extremely early in France for the type of romantic English landscaping shown on the right, a style which was to become much more widely developed in the 1770s but was already familiar to the duke. Choiseul, a known anglophile, created an entire ‘jardin anglo-chinois’ at Chanteloup following his ‘exile’ to the country estate in 1770, complete with pagoda, sinuous paths, rockeries and picturesque streams, subjects for a subsequent visit to Chanteloup by Van Blarenberghe. On this later visit (or visits) Van Blarenberghe sketched another windmill at Chanteloup (Louvre RF 36722) with an unusual open structure more resembling a modern pylon, perhaps one of the Duke’s agricultural experiments.

Before his banishment, the duke’s visits to Chanteloup were infrequent although much anticipated; it was the duchess who adored the countryside. The duchess (1734-1801), born Louise-Honorine Crozat du Châtel and a great heiress, was always happiest at Chanteloup where she spent much of her time with the Abbé, the Italian doctor Gatti prized for his medical skills but always clumsily falling into a pickle, the duchess’s niece, madame de Lauzan and other regular companions, well away from the official duties and frequent infidelities of her diplomat husband whom she adored. She would regularly spend the months of March to July at Chanteloup with another visit later in the summer although we are told that she did not arrive there in 1767 until the month of May, retained in Paris by pressing affairs. The duchess took great pleasure in supervising the building and landscape works and great interest in the local countryside and its inhabitants, not only introducing a flock of pedigree sheep and Swiss cattle, in the manner of Marie Antoinette, but also assisting the peasants in times of need. The descriptions of the peaceful life at Chanteloup in the letters of both the duchess and the Abbé to Madame du Deffand, an indefatigable correspondent, make it clear that the event portrayed on the lid of this box is just such a rustic entertainment as she would have enjoyed attending. In the morning, the duchess and her visitors would write lengthy letters, read the newspapers from Paris, ride or inspect the model farm; dinner was at two, often only vegetables and laiteries, followed by walks through the grounds, drives or other outdoor entertainments; the evenings were spent in games of cards or the duchess’s favourite backgammon, music both professional and domestic, amateur dramatics and word games before a light supper and an early bedtime. The duchess was surrounded by her pets: dogs, monkeys and parrots as well as the farm animals she loved. The Abbé described the veritable menagerie she provided to entertain the visiting archbishop of Tours in the 1770s: first to appear were the pet sheep led by a superb ram most opportunely named Cathedrale (who unfortunately disgraced himself copiously on the polished parquet floor to the accompaniment of loud barks from the dogs shocked at such behaviour); they were followed by a droll troupe of lemurs sent from Paris who were fed on apples by the visitors; a naughty monkey dressed as a grenadier and walking upright came next and the grand finale was meant to have been a display of the pedigree cows but unfortunately by that time the archbishop had ordered his carriage as he felt it was rather late.

It seems clear that this snuff box illustrates subjects close to the heart of the duchess: a rustic entertainment on the lid, country pursuits on the sides and amusing animals on the base. It is certainly not inconceivable that Louis-Nicolas Van Blarenberghe should have been asked to create paintings for a box in more light-hearted mode for the duchesse de Choiseul at the same time as he produced the official views of Chanteloup for the duke. These were then mounted the same year into a box by Pierre-François Drais, then one of the most fashionable of Paris goldsmiths. Whether the box was indeed made for Van Blarenberghe’s aristocratic patrons or whether it was the product of his fertile imagination, the miniatures remain a lasting testament to his reporter’s eye.