In 2004, The Corning Museum of Glass acquired an oval cast glass plaque with the portrait of King Louis XIV (Fig. 1) of France (r. 1643–1715). It is the second plaque of its kind in the museum, and one of eight examples that are known (3 in the catalog below). This plaque was not purchased so that the museum could possess as many artifacts of one kind as possible, nor is it artistically entirely convincing: the painted decoration forms a bizarre contrast with the features of the king in relief. The painter has exaggerated the lips, which now look swollen and red, and changed the king’s armor and coat into an irrational conglomerate of ornaments. The paint, which has deteriorated and is only loosely attached to the glass, makes the king’s face appear both a sickly green and a silvery color.

Such a disfigurement of a work of art should be reason enough for a museum to keep its hands off. In this case, however, the incongruity itself is the focus of attention because it displays a fascinating story of its own. The “mistakes” in the painted decoration of the relief cannot be blamed on a lack of attention or even of accomplishment by the painter. The gilded decorations prove that he was not without skill, but he thoroughly misunderstood some of the portrait’s relief features. Comparison with one of the plaques from the same mold, such as the second plaque in The Corning Museum of Glass (2), reveals that the painter did not recognize the chest piece of the armor with the emblem of the sun, the undulating collar, and the hair that falls over the king’s left shoulder. Instead, he created one wavy ornament. To him, the emblem, collar, and hairstyle were unfamiliar features. The painter was probably an Asian artist who may never have encountered an individual dressed in this manner. On the other hand, the artist may have known about the fashionable use of lipstick among Western male nobility and exaggerated this detail in his painting.

The Asian provenance of the decoration is further supported by the wooden frame, with its distinctly Asian ornaments. The frame was probably made of Chinese huali wood, and it consists of four elements that were placed atop one another by means of mortises and tenons: a rectangular base with four cut-out feet, a support, a frame, and an oval strip that holds the glass plaque in place. The central support is carved with a dragon and the stylized motif of clouds. Attached to it, as further supports on each side, are two ruyi scepters.¹ Three worn and thus light brown areas on the base indicate that the support has been changed. A similar mark on the support, above the scepter at the right, bolsters the assumption that the initial support was three-tiered.

Simon Cottle of Sotheby’s in London, assisted by Bernard Dragesco and Jeannine Geyssant in Paris, first formulated the hypothesis that this plaque was a gift of the Orléans glassmaker Bernard Perrot to the ambassadors of King Narai of Siam in 1686 or 1687.² The visit of the Siamese ambassadors has often been quoted in publications on Perrot because it offers firsthand documentation of aspects of his work that are not readily available through the only other surviving sources, his patents.³

This article will attempt to substantiate this hypothesis. It will examine various aspects concerning this subject, such as the history of the Franco-Siamese encounter in the 1680s and the Siamese interest in glass, as well as Perrot’s invention of cast glass slabs and the subsequent production of cast mirrors at Saint-Gobain. Finally, it will present a catalog of the available information on the eight plaques of this kind that are known today.

I should reveal in advance that no conclusive proof of the Siamese provenance of the plaque will be offered. However, research pertaining to the Siamese interest in French glass provides enough material to shed new light on a crucial time in the history of French glassmaking.

The Glass Plaques

The King Louis XIV portraits in glass were cast from three different molds. All of these plaques are oval and approximately the same size. The glass is polished on all sides and beveled at the rim. In each case, the king’s head is shown in profile, facing right, with his chest in three-quarters view. He is dressed in armor that is draped with a coat. The curls of his wig fall onto his shoulders.

One mold is known to us from only a single casting, which is in the Musée Historique et Archéologique de l’Orléanais in Orléans (Catalog 1). This portrait differs from the Corning plaques only in minor details, such as the ornaments on the king’s right shoulder. The details of this plaque are less distinctive, probably because of the lack of contrasting surface decoration.

The second mold has come down to us in several castings, including the two plaques in The Corning Museum of Glass (Catalog 2 and 3). A third example is in the Compagnie de Saint-Gobain at Blois, near Paris (Catalog 4). This plaque was mounted in a rich, possibly neo-Baroque frame. The relief itself is gilded, and the background is painted in grisaille. Another casting from this mold was recently purchased by The Toledo Museum of Art (Catalog 6), and two additional examples exist in private collections: one possibly in Orléans (Catalog 5), apparently painted in a bronze color, with a wooden frame in the shape of a laurel wreath, and the other, which was on the Paris art market in 2000, made of colorless glass in a brass frame (Catalog 7).

The third mold shows the king with a lace cravat, and we know of it from only one casting, now housed in the Musée du Louvre in Paris (Catalog 8). The portrait is not unlike a marble relief on Louis XIV’s cenotaph in the Bourbon Chapel of the Saint-Denis Cathedral.⁴ It is entirely gilded, and the king’s features—his chin in particular—appear to be more pronounced than in examples made in the other molds. This has been interpreted as a sign of the king’s markedly advanced age, but it may be an optical illusion deriving from the different treatment and the quality of the various castings. There seems to be no reason why all of the plaques should not be dated to roughly the same period, the 1680s or 1690s.

It has been noted that the plaques show some resemblance to contemporaneous profile portraits in other materials, such as lead and marble. A large lead plaque on the Paris art market is rendered in a livelier manner than the rather passive impression from the glass plaques,⁵ but it corresponds to contemporaneous portraits on medals. A gold medal that celebrates the Bernini project for the Louvre Colonnades, designed by Jean Varin (or Warin; 1604?–1672) in Paris in 1665, shares many of the characteristics of the larger plaques.⁶ But there the king is represented as a young man, and his hair is not towering up above the forehead, as is shown on the glass representations. Varin was, at that time, head of the royal mint. Even more important for the consideration of engraved medals in this context is Jean Mauger (1640?–1722?), who became “officier médailliste du Roi” about 1677.⁷ He contributed a series of medals that glorify the royal navy and show portraits of the king in at least three stages of his life between the 1660s and the 1690s: as a young man in the late 1660s, not unlike the Bernini medal by Varin; in middle age in the 1670s and 1680s; and at a later age, with a marked development of a double chin, in the late 1690s.

In comparison with these portraits, the glass plaques clearly belong to the middle period (although the Louvre plaque may be somewhat later), and they are closely similar to a medal of 1681.⁸ It seems improbable that a relatively small medal was employed as the model for the large glass plaques. Rather, it can be assumed that Bernard Perrot commissioned a medalist for a large-scale design. Jean Varin and Jean Mauger were not the only artisans who produced such portraits. Medals played a crucial role in the public’s celebration of the king. They combined image and text, and if they were used as money, they were easily and effectively distributed among the population.⁹ Naturally, various artists were involved in this art. A group of fairly large bronze medals with the king’s profile bust are signed by Bertinet; one oval example in the Wallace Collection, London,¹⁰ has a frame and hanger similar to those of the gilded glass plaque in Corning (Catalog 2). A fourth sculptor, more accustomed to working on a larger scale, was François Girardon.¹¹

Perrot’s Casting Process

Bernard Perrot (1619?–1709), born Bernardo Perrotto in Bormida, near Altare, was one of the Altarists who settled throughout Europe in order to produce glass à la façon de Venise.¹² He is first recorded in Nevers in 1647, when he joined his uncle, Giovanni Castellano (Jean Castellan or Castellain; d. 1672). Perrot and Castellano leased the “hôtel de la verrerie,” which had been founded by Jacques Sarode (Saroldo) in 1588, from the widow of its last owner and Castellano’s brother-in-law, Horace Ponte (Orazio Ponti; d. 1645).¹³ Castellano seems to have been not only a successful glassmaker (he had worked together with his brother Jacob in Liège from at least 1638 to 1643) but also an important middleman in the recruitment of Muranese glassmakers specializing in flat glass and mirrors.¹⁴ Perrot began to work independently when he established a glasshouse in Orléans in 1662. He obtained French citizenship four years later. From his patents and some accounts, we get the impression that he was highly inventive, not only in perfecting the recipes for colored glass that he had inherited from Italy, but also in producing all kinds of materials, such as a fuel without smoke or odor to be used as a substitute for coal.¹⁵

On April 2, 1687, Perrot demonstrated his newly invented process of casting glass slabs before the Academy of Science in Paris: “M. Perrot Maître de la Verrerie Royale d’Orleans, fit voir à la Compagnie un Ouvrage nouveau de son art, c’est de couler le Cristal ou le Verre en tables, & de le rendre creux en maniere de camayeux. On y peut représenter toutes sortes de figures & d’ornemens, des Armoiries & des Inscriptions, &c. l’Academie crut devoir lui en donner un certificat.”¹⁶

One month earlier, the Mercure Galant, the society magazine of the time, had enthusiastically reported that

[Perrot] coule en moule toute sorte de verre en tables, de la grandeur et de l’épaisseur qu’on veut; il les rend creuses, et y représente des bustes, médailles, histoires, chifres, armoiries, devises, inscriptions, épitaphes et toutes sortes d’ornement et ouvrages d’architecture. Ces ouvrages ont cet avantage, qu’autant que les figures en creux y sont profondes, autant ells se jettent en dehors, et paroissent de relief sur les surfaces planes de ces tables de verre; et si ces figures sond peintes par un habile homme et avec des couleurs vives, ces couleurs estant jointes au relief, les font paroistre naturelles bien que la surface soit toute plane, ce qui trompe agréablement ceux qu’y portent la main. ... J’ay moy mesme ... vû ces cristaux coulez en moule avec des figures en creux.¹⁷

In 1688, Perrot received a royal patent for this invention: “Il a inventé un moyen inconnu jusques à présent de couler le cristal en tables, comme on fait les métaux, luy donnant telle couleur que l’on veut, mesme de rendre lesdites tables creuses, à la manière des camayeux, et d’y représenter des portraits, d’y graver des lettres et toute autre sorte de figures, comme pareillement de faire toute sorte de bas-reliefs, corniches et mouleures. ...”¹⁸

All of these descriptions fit the cast Louis XIV plaques precisely, and Claude Pris went so far, albeit without proof, as to maintain that it was one of these plaques that Perrot showed to the members of the royal academy.¹⁹ In any case, the attribution of the plaques to Perrot has not been in doubt since James Barrelet’s first publication on the subject in 1958.²⁰ In fact, of all the work that is usually attributed to Perrot, the plaques offer the best documentation.²¹

Perrot’s most famous invention—“de couler le cristal en tables,” as the casting of flat glass is called in the patent of 1688—soon aroused the envy of competitors. In 1695, the Manufacture Royale des Glaces de Saint-Gobain, headed by Abraham Thévart, succeeded in stopping Perrot from making cast glass mirrors, and his tools were confiscated.²² Perrot insisted on continuing to exploit his own invention, but the French council granted to Saint-Gobain the exclusive rights to produce mirrors. Perrot’s tools were returned to him on the condition that he would not use them for making mirrors, and from that time onward, the Saint-Gobain company had to pay him an annual pension of 500 (later, 800) pounds. This incident has been much discussed, and it is often construed as revealing the injustice of absolutism in favoring the large, state-funded company over the individual inventor. Perrot’s patent for “couler le cristal en tables,” dated September 25, 1688, stood against Thévart’s patent of December 14, which stated that “par le moyen des machines qu’il a inventées il pourroit faire fabriquer des Glaces ... comme aussi toutes sortes de Corniches, Chambrandes, Moulures de profil composées de plusieurs membres d’Architecture, Figures et autres Ornemens de relief,” and then granted the privilege “de faire seul ... ces sortes d’ouvrages.”²³ This patent clearly interferes with Perrot’s rights. In addition, it was not the financier Thévart who had invented these machines, as his patent suggests, but Louis Lucas de Nehou, the manager of one of the factories that were to constitute the Saint-Gobain company after 1695. Finally, the patent was granted at a time when the process was not yet fully developed (“il pourroit faire fabriquer”). It would be another couple of years, until shortly before 1691, before the first cast mirrors could be presented to the king.²⁴

Apparently, Perrot had not sought to employ his invention in the production of mirrors, while Thévart saw this opportunity more clearly. No sources on Perrot’s casting process have come down to us. Thus, we do not know if it really allowed him to produce glass slabs of considerably larger size than the Louis XIV plaques, and whether Nehou merely copied or significantly improved the process. The practice of casting glass on a flat surface seems to have been more widely known at that time: Count d’Avaux, the French ambassador to Venice, proposed in 1672 a process to manufacture “glaces d’une extreme grandeur” (mirrors of extreme size), and Haudiquer de Blancourt mentions a variety of casting methods in his Art de la verrerie of 1697.²⁵

The basic idea of casting figural reliefs in glass was not new, although it had apparently been confined to small sizes. It had been a common technique in ancient times, and it seems to have been revived in the 15th century. In his architectural treatise of about 1460, Filarete mentions glass tiles, “i quali saranno piani e dentro si vedrà iscolpite figue e animali e varie cose in modo che sarà degnia cosa a vedere,” as wall decorations for the foundation of his utopian city, Sforzinda.²⁶ Four tiles with the profile portrait of the doge Andrea Gritti (r. 1523–1538) in low relief and, in one case, with traces of gilding are preserved in Murano and London.²⁷

Siam and France

The exchange of ambassadors between Siam and France in the late 17th century is one of the rather quixotic events in the history of colonialism.²⁸ It involved outstanding personalities, and it has been the subject of a number of novels.²⁹ The exotic environment and the nature of the events prompted both the cast of characters and their later chroniclers to pursue their own interpretations instead of sticking to the facts. Thus the two reports from the first French ambassadors to Siam differ markedly from each other, and apparently only one source from the Siamese point of view has survived.³⁰

The initiative for bilateral relations came from the Siamese king Phra Narai (r. 1656–1688), who may have felt threatened by the various countries that sought influence in Siam: the Netherlands and England (through their respective East India Companies), Portugal, Japan, Burma, and Persia.³¹ Although France, the greatest power in Europe at that time, participated only marginally in this competition for the Eastern seas, French missionaries had arrived in Ayudhya, then the Siamese capital, in 1662 and found favorable conditions for their work. King Narai even supported them with land and housing. His attempts to establish diplomatic contacts in France seem to have begun in 1680. In that same year, he found an appropriate adviser in the Greek Constantin Phaulkon, who was familiar with Western traditions and aspirations, and who also had a unique talent in languages.³² Phaulkon traveled to Siam in 1680, apparently as an intermediary for English tradesmen who hoped to gain influence in the Asian market.

A first Siamese mission to France is said to have set sail in 1680, but it was lost at sea. A second embassy arrived in France four years later. At that time, Phaulkon was ascending to the peak of his power. Without holding any official titles, he became the decision maker in a government that was weakened by the king’s increasing illness. Thus, in the subsequent encounter of East and West, four driving forces can be distinguished: (1) the king of Siam, who may have contemplated the establishment of favorable relations with France as a counterbalance to pressure exerted especially by the Dutch, whose colonial attitude was obvious from the example of Java; (2) Phaulkon, who was in need of an external support for his own position, and who may have pursued the French colonization of Siam; (3) the Jesuit missionaries, who hoped to convert the king to Catholicism and thereby build a stronghold in Southeast Asia from which they could continue their mission; and (4) King Louis XIV, who was certainly motivated to gain power in the Far East, and who also took the opportunity to display his majesty with Asian luxury.³³

In 1685, a French ship departed for Siam. Leading the voyage was Alexandre de Chaumont (d. 1710), accompanied by several scientists and missionaries, and by Count Claude de Forbin (1665–1733). On their way back to France in 1686, they were accompanied by a Siamese embassy that consisted of three ambassadors, led by the nobleman Kosa Pan (Ok-Phra Visut Sunthorn), and their entourage, whose principal purpose was to present the king of France with a golden letter from the king of Siam. The ships arrived at the port of Brest in June 1686, but the audience with Louis XIV had to be delayed until September. In the meantime, the visitors were sent to tour various towns in France. This was no small undertaking because the habits and rules of protocol of the two countries had earlier proven to be entirely incompatible. Bénigne Vachet, a Jesuit missionary who had escorted the Siamese embassy in France in 1684, sailed with the next mission, acquainting the delegation with French habits while they were still aboard ship.³⁴ The visit, crowned by the exchange of magnificent gifts, ended in March 1687, when the ambassadors returned to Siam, accompanied by a new French delegation and considerable numbers of soldiers. The arrival of the latter was not welcomed by the Siamese aristocracy and public. In mid-1688, a bloody revolution, led by the nobleman Phra Petracha, broke out. It toppled the Phra Narai dynasty, and all foreigners, excluding only those in a Dutch trading post, were expelled from the country. French contacts with Siam ceased for 150 years.

Siam and French Glass

A few crucial sources refer to the Siamese interest in glass. One is the Mercure Galant, which carefully followed and communicated to the French public every step of the 1686 Siamese embassy to France. After the ambassadors had toured the country and arrived in Paris, they were accommodated in a townhouse on the rue de Tournon, close to the Luxembourg Palace. They received, among others, the court enameler Hubin, who was also famous for his production of barometers and other glass instruments.³⁵ With the use of glass, he presented various experiments concerning the pressure and weight of air. One experiment involved pumping air out of a glass receptacle containing a live cat, which gradually inflated and would have expired if one of the ambassadors had not intervened. Another demonstrated a Prince Rupert’s drop: “Il leur montra encore qu’une larme de verre solide, de la grosseur d’une Olive, souffroit des coups de marteau. Cette experience les surprit; cependant le premier Ambassadeur fit briser avec un grand éclat cette larme de verre en la pressant sur son poing; & ce qui l’étonne encore d’avantage, fut de voir qu’en frottant avec le pouce de l’autre main, comme pour écraser ces milions de petites parties de verre, il n’en sentit aucune pointe.”³⁶

Of more interest for our study is the following account, which, because of its importance, is quoted in full:

Me Perrot Dame de la Verrerie d’Orléans, qui estoit venuë avec Mr Hubin, fut reconnuë des Ambassadeurs, parce qu’en venant à Paris, ils avoient eu la curiosité de voir la Verrerie d’Orléans, où Ms Perrot leur avoit fait admirer en ses Ouvrages, tout ce que cet Art produit de plus rare, & de plus beau en Porcelaines. Ces sortes de Porcelaines imitent si bien celles d’Orient, que plusieurs personnes ont esté trompées à la veuë, en Cristaux, Emaux, Agathes, Girasols & Lapis, de même qu’en Rouge des Anciens, & en couleur de rubis, & enfin en toutes sortes de Pierres artificielles, & qui approchent si fort des Pierres precieuses par leur dureté, leur vif éclat & leur netteté, que d’habiles connoisseurs y pourroient esrre surpris. Ces Cristaux ont beaucoup d’avantage sur les autres. Ils souffrent le feu, & peuvent passer la Ligne sans s’écailler; ce qui a esté éprouvé lorsque les premiers Mandarins, qui sont venus en France retournerent à Siam. Me Perrot fit un petit present de ces Ouvrages aux Ambassadeurs, & ils eurent la bonté de les accepter. Ne soyez point surprise, si j’ay nommé Madame Perrot Dame de la Verrerie, puisque le lieu où la Verrerie d’Orléans a esté bâtie est un Fief noble, & qu’il porte ce nom par Lettres Patentes du Roy.³⁷

In the literature on this subject, this passage has always been used as the main source for the attribution of glass objects to Bernard Perrot.³⁸ We learn that there were at least three encounters involving Perrot’s glass production and Siamese ambassadors: (1) “les premiers Mandarins,” that is, the envoys of the first successful Siamese voyage to France in 1684, had seen Perrot’s glass, and they apparently took some of it home to Ayudhya; (2) the ambassadors on the next voyage had visited the glasshouse in Orléans and viewed its production in July 1686; and (3) Mme Perrot presented these ambassadors with a small gift of glass items during her visit to Paris about a month later.

The Siamese interest in glass is most strikingly expressed by a list of items that the king of Siam wished to purchase in France. The translation of the list into French is housed in the Archives Nationales in Paris.³⁹ The list consists of 54 hats, 18 garments, 80 items of fabric, 26 items of goldsmiths’ work (including sabers, terrestrial and celestial globes, golden mirrors, and spectacles), and more than 45,000 items of glass.⁴⁰ The large number is deceptive in that it counts every single bead, but even when these are omitted, more than 10,000 items remain. The list of glass items is divided into (1) “Cristaux,” which consist of vases and tableware, as well as decorative items in the shape of Siamese fruits, flowers, and leaves; (2) items made of crystal for the decoration of elephants; and (3) “Cristaux fondus,” cast glass in the form of tobacco boxes, pyramids (“piramides blanche bleue et verte suivant leur model”), a chair (“chaise de la grandeur et couleur du model”), lenses for telescopes, and two statues of lions, as well as “des miroirs qui puissent par eux mesme representer plus[ieurs] aspects comme sont ceux lors que le Roy assiste en son conseil, a la teste de ses armées sa flotte et ses Combats lors que le Roy recoit des Ambassadeurs, les plus celebres entrees quil fait dans ses villes principalles la Ceremonie de son Couronnement, la Creation du Ciel et de la terre, des representations de Villes fortifiées, des plus beaux Edisfices et de leurs Jardinages dont touttes les boestes doives estre d’argent.”⁴¹

The next group, (4) “Des Glaces,” lists 3,842 mirrors for the royal palace in Ayudhya, 212 mirrors for the palace in “Lonnau” (Lopburi), and “200. autres glaces pour les murailles de la mesme grandeur et largeur que celles que Nous avons porté le Voyage precedent” (200 other mirrors for the walls of the same size as those that we have taken on our last voyage). The following entry describes two one-way mirrors, to be placed in doors, which were supposed to enlarge or to multiply the image. The other items on the list are (5) 10 cut glass chandeliers (“Chandeliers a pieces de Verre taillees selon le modele”) and a large number and variety of fruit-shaped glass ornaments (“pieces de fruits” or “granes de Verre”) that get smaller and smaller throughout the list (e.g., “1200. comme Un grain de poivre mais pointu a une des extremitez”).

This list offers some astonishing details. The description of the chandeliers is, to my knowledge, the first unequivocal mention of cut glass ornaments for lighting fixtures. Cut ornaments for chandeliers are known from slightly earlier written sources, of about 1666–1673, but these accounts either refer clearly to rock crystal (“cristal de roche”) or fail to specify whether “cristal” is meant to be rock crystal or glass.⁴² Unfortunately, the list does not indicate the size of the chair, but there is no reason to doubt that it was life-size, and thus one of the first recorded items of glass furniture.⁴³ The heights of the lions, which follow the chair in the list, measure one “palme” (12.36 cm) and one “coudée” (52.36 cm). The mirrors on the list are up to 170 centimeters tall. The technology to make a glass chair or, more likely, to decorate a brass or wooden chair with glass was certainly available.

Neither the descriptions of the chandeliers nor those of any other items on the list for the Siamese ambassadors offer a clue about where the glass was made. However, we know from the inventory of the “Meubles de la Couronne” that these diplomats were allowed to choose “deux grands chandeliers de cristal d’Orléans fondu à 6 bobeches dudit cristal” (two cast crystal chandeliers from Orléans with six sockets of the same crystal), which apparently refers to the glasshouse of Bernard Perrot.⁴⁴

Time was short to comply with the wish list, and according to Lucien Lanier, the items were poorly packaged. The glass is said to have been heavily damaged when it arrived in Brest in 1687 for shipment to Siam: “Il ne restait presque pas un objet entier, surtout parmi les miroirs et pendules, et les ouvrages d’ambre et de corail. La destruction était à peu près complète quand on fut à Siam, après sept mois de roulis et de tangage.”⁴⁵

Conclusions

The date of Perrot’s presentation before the Paris Academy of Science (April 2, 1687) indicates that he was at an advanced stage in his invention of cast glass plaques when the second Siamese embassy to France came through Orléans. The timing could not have been better for him to present the ambassadors with one of his new reliefs, and it may, in fact, have afforded him the opportunity to gain access to the royal court and eventually to the Academy of Science. But there are, unfortunately, no documents to prove that the diplomats took one of these works back to Siam. The rather enigmatic entry in the list of orders by the Siamese ambassadors—“des miroirs qui puissent ... representer plus[ieurs] aspects”⁴⁶ —probably refers to mirrors with painted or engraved decoration, rather than to Perrot’s new invention, which may not have been known when the list was compiled. If the plaque in The Corning Museum of Glass (3) was a gift of Mme Perrot to the ambassadors (the characterization of the gift as a “petit present” should not be taken too literally), then we cannot expect it to have been recorded because the chroniclers were much more interested in listing the gifts that were presented by King Louis XIV. Engelbert Kaempfer does not mention that he saw any of these treasures on his visit to Siam in 1690, apart from two European paintings in the audience hall behind the throne of the Siamese chancellor—the same Kosa Pan who had made such a great impression as the kingdom’s first ambassador to France.⁴⁷

Bernard Perrot’s art does not seem to have found followers in France, but it apparently did so in Germany: Franz Adrian Dreier brought to light two medallions, of similar size, one bearing the portrait of the landgravine Maria Amalia of Hesse-Kassel and the other showing a philosopher’s head.⁴⁸ Both were cast in molds and cut in a manner similar to Perrot’s plaques, but they were also wheel-engraved and frosted. They were probably made in 1716 after a model by the sculptor Jacob Dobbermann, and they may have been engraved by Franz Gondelach. We do not know if Perrot’s technique was copied here, or if it was developed independently in Kassel.

Recently, a small portrait medallion on the art market was attributed to Bernard Perrot (Fig. 7). It is made of yellow glass, the portrait is cast, and some details were added by diamond-point engraving.⁴⁹ The portrait is believed to be that of Louis XIV, although the profile is somewhat different from that on the plaques, and it shows a man of considerably older age. At this point, the question of whether this medallion was made by Perrot remains open. Apart from the larger portrait plaques, no cast glass reliefs by Perrot have been identified, although it seems likely that some of his numerous praised designs survived and will surface one day.

Catalog

All of the plaques are made of colorless glass. They are mold-cast, cut, and polished, and they date to about 1685–1700.

First Mold

This mold has been thought to depict the king at a younger age than in the subsequent molds, but it shows essentially the same portrait of King Louis XIV as the second mold, with differences only in minor details.

1. Orléans, Musée Historique et Archéologique de l’Orléanais (A. 7162).
Probably owned by the museum since its founding in 1824. Included in a glass exhibition at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris in 1951.
H. 37 cm, W. 30.5 cm.
The glass shows no traces of surface decoration such as gilding. Oval wooden frame in the shape of a laurel(?) wreath.

Bibliography: Robert J. Charleston, “French Glass of the 17th and 18th Centuries,” Glass Notes, ed. and comp. Arthur Churchill Ltd., no. 12, 1952, pp. 14–19, esp. p. 16 (no image); James Barrelet, La Verrerie en France de l’époque gallo- romaine à nos jours, Paris: Larousse, 1953, pp. 83–84, pl. XLIa; idem [note 20]; idem [note 3], pp. 181–182 (“L’exemplaire d’Orléans semble être entré au Musée lors de sa fondation, en 1824, époque où il n’y avait aucun enregistrement”); “Recent Important Acquisitions,” Journal of Glass Studies, v. 9, 1967, p. 141, no. 48; Ada Polak, Glass: Its Tradition and Its Makers, New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1975, pp. 127– 128, fig. 54; Bénard and Dragesco [note 12], pp. 44 and 109, and cover; Hollister [note 21], p. 452, fig. 11; Dreier [note 26], pp. 58–59, fig. 42; Siegmar Geiselberger, “‘Gegossenes’ oder ‘gepresstes’ Glas: Glasrelief mit dem Portrait Louis XIV. von Bernardo Perrotto ... , Pressglas-Korrespondenz, no. 1, 2002, pp. 37–53, esp. p. 43, fig. 69.

Second Mold

2. Corning, The Corning Museum of Glass (99.3.2). (Figure 2)
Purchased from Dragesco-Cramoisan, Paris, 1999.
H. 35.5 cm, (with frame) 38.7 cm, W. 29 cm.
Traces of gilding. Tubular brass frame with a turned fitting for the suspension loop.

Bibliography: English and Continental Glass and Paperweights [note 2], pp. 32–33, no. 116; Anne Bouillot, “In the Salerooms,” Antique Dealer and Collectors Guide, v. 49, no. 8, March 1996, pp. 60–62; Connaissance des Arts, no. 539, 1997, p. 13 (advertisement of Dragesco-Cramoisan, Paris); Jutta-Annette Page, “Additions to the Glass Collection: European,” The Corning Museum of Glass Annual Report 1999, Corning: the museum, 2000, pp. 6–7 and 9; David Whitehouse, The Corning Museum of Glass: A Decade of Glass Collecting, Corning: the museum, 2000, p. 20, fig. 12; “Recent Important Acquisitions,” Journal of Glass Studies, v. 42, 2000, p. 182, no. 14; The Corning Museum of Glass: A Guide to the Collections, Corning: The Corning Museum of Glass, 2001, p. 76; Geiselberger [see 1], p. 43, fig. 70; Jutta-Annette Page and others, Beyond Venice: Glass in Venetian Style, 1500–1750, Corning: The Corning Museum of Glass, 2004, pp. 190–191, no. 15; David Whitehouse, “European Glass in the Venetian Style, 1500–1750,” The Magazine Antiques, v. 166, no. 2, August 2004, pp. 68–75, esp. pp. 73–74, fig. 11.

3. Corning, The Corning Museum of Glass (2004.3.32). (Figure 1)
Purchased at auction at Sotheby’s, London, July 15, 2004.
OH. 65.5 cm, W. 36.7 cm, D. 20.1 cm; medallion: H. 36.5 cm, W. 29.5 cm.
Cold-painted and mirrored. Oval wooden frame on a support with dragon relief; rectangular pedestal.

First, the glass was painted with gold and black outlines. Then the colors were applied: blue and red, a grayish white in the face, and black in the hair. The background and part of the colored areas were covered with a metal foil, probably a lead or tin alloy. The original colors have been altered because of their contact with this metal. Particles of paper and fuzz on top of this are probably a later intrusion.

The frame was probably made of huali wood in China during the 18th century (kindly suggested by Nancy Berliner, curator of Chinese art at the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts).

Bibliography: Fine British and European Ceramic and Glass, sale catalog, London: Sotheby’s, July 15, 2004, pp. 130–131, no. 162, and insert; Dedo von Kerssenbrock-Krosigk, “Additions to the Glass Collection: European,” The Corning Museum of Glass Annual Report 2004, Corning: the museum, 2005, pp. 8–9; “Recent Important Acquisitions,” Journal of Glass Studies, v. 47, 2005, pp. 222–223, no. 13; “Recent Acquisitions,” The Gather (newsletter of The Corning Museum of Glass), Spring/Summer 2005, pp. 13–14.

4. Blois, near Paris, Compagnie de Saint-Gobain.
Formerly in the collection of Dr. Edmond Fournier (d. 1938), Marseilles.
Glass: H. 37 cm, W. 30.5 cm.
Relief gilded; background painted in grisaille, imitating fabric with floral patterns. Gilded oval wooden frame with elaborate scrollwork.

Bibliography: Barrelet [note 3], pp. 181–185; Maurice Hamon, “L’Artisan et l’industriel: Un cas exemplaire au XVII^e siècle,” Métiers d’Art, no. 8, 1979, pp. 71–74; idem, “The Craftsman and the Industrialist,” in The Glassmakers of Altare, Readings in Glass History, v. 12, ed. Anita Engle, Jerusalem: Phoenix Publications, 1981, pp. 60–62 and fig. on p. 96 (translation of the article in Métiers d’Art, 1979); Jacqueline Bellanger, Verre d’usage et de prestige: France, 1500–1800, Paris: Editions de l’Amateur, 1988, p. 216; Maurice Hamon, “Une version industrielle du pot de terre et du pot de fer au XVII^e siècle,” Les Annales des Mines: Série Réalités Industrielles, April 1994, n.p.; Nouvelles acquisitions du département des Objets d’art (1990–1994), Paris: Editions de la Réunion des Musées Nationaux, 1995, p. 110, fig. 36a; Hamon and Mathieu [note 25], pp. 34 and 178, no. 9.

5. Private collection.
Formerly in the de la Girandière Collection, Orléans; sold by the auctioneer Louis Savot in Orléans on June 12, 1976.
Relief colored in green and yellow; background mirrored. Wooden frame in shape of laurel wreath.

Photography and handwritten notice (by Raymond Chambon?) in the Rakow Research Library of The Corning Museum of Glass, Marianne Pelliot Archives (folder on Bernard Perrot): “Celui de gauche [on the image together with 1] bronzé appartient à un particulier (marchand–homme du monde) monsieur de la Girandière, 12 rue de la Republique à Orléans.”

6. Toledo, The Toledo Museum of Art (2006.42, gift of The Apollo Society).
Formerly in the collection of Bernard Dragesco, Paris. Purchased from Dragesco-Cramoisan, Paris, 2006.
Glass: H. 37 cm, W. 30 cm.
Relief gilded; background silver-mirrored with mercury. In gilded wooden frame.

Bibliography: Mentioned in the attachment to a letter of Bernard Dragesco to The Corning Museum of Glass, April 7, 2000; and in Fine British and European Ceramic and Glass [see 3], p. 130. See also “Visionary Support: Apollo Society Acquires Rare Glass Medallion,” arTMAtters (Journal of The Toledo Museum of Art), v. 3, no. 1, 2006, p. 17.

7. Private collection.
Offered by Dragesco-Cramoisan, Paris, in 2000; in a private collection since 2003.
H. 35.5 cm, W. 29 cm.
No surface decoration. In brass frame.

Bibliography: The International Ceramics Fair & Seminar, catalog, London: the fair, June 2000, p. 58 (advertisement by Dragesco-Cramoisan, Paris).

Third Mold

This mold, which is known from only one casting, differs from the others in that the king’s armor is covered, on the chest, by a scarf. The king’s face, particularly the accentuated chin, has given reason to believe that it depicts the king at an advanced age.

8. Paris, Musée du Louvre (OA 11378).
Gift of the Honda France company in 1993; purchased at Galerie Michel Descours, Lyons.
H. 37 cm, W. 30.5 cm, Th. 1.5 cm.
Relief gilded; background mirrored. Modern patinated bronze frame.

Bibliography:: “Acquisitions,” Revue du Louvre, no. 4, 1993, p. 81, no. 17; “Recent Important Acquisitions,” Journal of Glass Studies, v.36, 1994, p. 107, no. 4; Nouvelles acquisitions [see 4], pp. 110–111 (“La technique était donc de couler une épaisse couche de verre sur un modèle en relief—probablement en plâtre—pour recouvrir la cavité ainsi obtenue après refroidissement d’une épaisse dorure imitant le bronze”).

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Dedo von Kerssenbrock-Krosigk
This article was published in the Journal of Glass Studies, Vol. 49 (2007), 63–79.

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Acknowledgments. Of the many people who have helped me in preparing this article, I am indebted in particular to Nancy Berliner, Salem, Massachusetts; Simon Cottle, London; Bernard Dragesco, Paris; Jeannine Geyssant, Paris; Maurice Hamon, Courbevoie, France; and Stephen P. Koob, Corning. I especially thank David Whitehouse, executive director of The Corning Museum of Glass, for actively pursuing this unconventional acquisition.

1. The ruyi scepter was a Chinese symbol of luck and immortality. Ruyi means “as you like” or “whatever you wish.” See Evelyn S. Rawski and Jessica Rawson, eds., China: The Three Emperors, 1662–1795, exhibition catalog, London: Royal Academy of Arts, 2005, pp. 361, 366–369, and 465–466, nos. 273–282.

2. English and Continental Glass and Paperweights, sale catalog, London: Christie’s, December 18, 1995, insert.

3. Because of the destruction of the Archives Départementales du Loiret in Orléans at the beginning of World War II, essential sources on Perrot have been lost. See James Barrelet, “Un portrait de Louis XIV et l’invention du coulage de la glace,” Cahiers de la Céramique, du Verre et des Arts du Feu, no. 27, 1962, pp. 181–183, esp. p. 183.

4. This bust is identical to that shown on a leather portrait of Louis XIV that was sold in London (Fine French and Continental Furniture and Decorations, sale catalog, London: Sotheby’s, May 23, 2003, no. 121). According to the sale catalog, this relief derives from a bas-relief of 1687 by the sculptor François Girardon (1628–1715), which he had presented to his native city, Troyes.

5. Portrait plaque of Louis XIV, lead, heightened with gold. H. 102 cm. On the Paris art market. See Important mobilier et objets d’art, sale catalog, Paris: Sotheby’s, March 24, 2005, pp. 30–31, no. 15. According to the sale catalog, an identical portrait is known from a marble relief, dated 1699, in the collection of Ferdinand de Rothschild.

6. Josèphe Jacquiot and others, La Médaille au temps de Louis XIV, exhibition catalog, Paris: Hôtel de la Monnaie, 1970, pp. 81–82, no. 116; cf. gallica.bnf.fr/anthologie/notices/00662.htm.

7. Jacquiot and others [note 6], pp. 175–178.

8. Ibid., pp. 191–192, no. 278.

9. Louis Marin, Le Portrait du roi, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1981, pp. 150–159.

10. Bronze plaque with portrait of Louis XIV, about 1687. Wallace Collection, London, S 380. For a related but round medal in a gray marble and gilded wood frame, see Haute époque, sale catalog, Paris: Tajan, December 18, 2001, p. 51, no. 58. The identification of Bertinet (probably François Bertinet) is disputed. See Jacquiot and others [note 6], pp. 253–269.

11. Artemis Klidis, François Girardon: Bildhauer in königlichen Diensten, 1663–1700, Weimar: VDG-Verlag, 2001 (Ph.D. diss., Bonn, 2000).

12. According to Luigi Zecchin (“Bernardo Perrotto, vetraio altarese,” Giornale Economico della Camera di Commercio, v. 3, 1949, pp. 533–538, and v. 4, 1950, pp. 59–63; reprinted in Luigi Zecchin, Vetro e vetrai di Murano: Studi sulla storia del vetro, 3 vv., Venice: Arsenale, 1987–1990, v. 1, pp. 308–317, esp. p. 316, n. 9), Perrot was born in 1619. If the birth date of 1638 were correct, as suggested by Jacques Bénard and Bernard Dragesco (Bernard Perrot et les Verreries Royales du Duché d’Orléans, 1662–1754, Orléans: Edition des Amis du Musée d’Orléans, 1989, p. 23), Perrot would have leased the Nevers glasshouse as a nine-year-old boy!

13. Pascale Bouju, “De Jacques Sarode à Jean Castellan: Près d’un siècle de la verrerie de Nevers (1588–1673),” Annales Bourgogne, v. 58, no. 3, 1986, pp. 133–136; Alain Bouthier, “L’Implantation des verriers d’Altare à Lyon, Nevers et Paris à la fin du XVI^e siècle,” Bulletin de l’Association Française pour l’Archéologie du Verre, 2004, pp. 32–34.

14. Henri Schuermans, Verres liégeois 'façon de Venise', Brussels, 1885, pp. 46–47; Paul M. Bondois, “Les Verreries nivernaise et orléanaise au XVII^e siècle: Jean Castellan et Bernard Perrot (1647–1709),” Revue d’Histoire Economique et Sociale, v. 20, 1932, pp. 75–95, esp. pp. 79–81.

15. Zecchin, Vetro e vetrai [note 12], p. 310.

16. Histoire de l’Académie Royale des Sciences, v. 2, Depuis 1686 jusqu’à son Renouvellement en 1699, Paris: Martin, Coignard, and Guerin, 1733, p. 20. “Monsieur Perrot, head of the royal glasshouse of Orléans, had the company watch a new work of his art, which is of casting crystal or glass in slabs, and of hollowing it out in the manner of a camaïeu. Herewith one can represent all sorts of figures and ornaments, of coats of arms and inscriptions, etc. The Academy believed that it should therefore grant him a certificate.” The term “camaïeu” normally refers to a monochrome painting or a cameo. According to Bondois ([note 14], p. 94, n. 89), the expression refers to a relief in layers of different colors (as is the case in cameo glass).

17. Mercure Galant, March 1687, pt. 1, p. 227; quoted by Barrelet ([note 3], pp. 181–182). “Perrot casts in molds all sorts of glass slabs, of any size and thickness that one could wish; he hollows them out, and represents busts, medallions, histories, numbers, coats of arms, mottoes, inscriptions, epitaphs, and all kinds of ornament and architectural designs. These works have the advantage that as much as the hollowed-out designs are deep, as much they jump out, and seem as reliefs on the plane surface of these glass slabs. And if the figures are painted by an accomplished man with lively colors, these colors being attached to the relief, it would make them [the figures] look natural even though the surface is entirely plane, which favorably fools those who try to touch it. ... I have myself ... seen these mold-cast crystals with hollowed-out figures.”

18. Paris, Archives Nationales, O1 32, fol. 252 v. Quoted by Bondois ([note 14], pp. 94–95). “He has invented a method hitherto unknown of casting the crystal in slabs, as it is done with metals, of giving them any color that one wishes, also of hollowing the said slabs out, in the way of camaïeux, and of using this to represent portraits, to engrave letters and all other kinds of designs, and equally to make all kinds of reliefs, moldings, and castings.”

19. Claude Pris, “La Manufacture royale des glaces de Saint-Gobain: Une grande entreprise sous l’ancien régime,” Ph.D diss., Université de Lille, 1975, pp. 374–375.

20. James Barrelet, “Un virtuose de la verrerie au temps de Louis XIV: Bernard Perrot,” Connaissance des Arts, v. 78, 1958, pp. 48–53, esp. p. 52.

21. The best overview of the wide range of products attributed to Perrot can be gained from Bénard and Dragesco [note 12]. Of these products, only some of the statuettes and the magnificent mosaic glass table (ibid., pp. 72–76) are convincing. The table may, however, have been made in Italy, and it is today in a private collection. See Tim Clarke and Jonathan Bourne, “Louis XIV’s Glass Table,” Apollo, v. 128, no. 321, November 1988, pp. 334–339; and Paul Hollister, “Louis XIV’s Glass Table: A Triumph of Imagination and Technology,” Annales de l’Association Internationale pour l’Histoire du Verre, v. 12, Vienna, 1991 (Amsterdam, 1993), pp. 441–456.

22. Elphègue Frémy, Histoire de la Manufacture Royale des Glaces de France au XVII^e et au XVIII^e siècle, Paris: Librairie Plon, 1909, pp. 262–269.

23. Quoted by Auguste Cochin in La Manufacture des glace de Saint-Gobain de 1665 à 1865, Paris: Charles Douniol and F. Guillaumin, 1865, p. 118. “By the means of machines that he has invented, he will be able to produce mirrors ... as well as all kinds of moldings, jambs, molded profiles that are composed of a number of architectural elements, designs, and other relief ornaments,” and he is allowed “to be the only one to make ... these kinds of works.”

24. Frémy [note 22], p. 265.

25. Maurice Hamon and Caroline Mathieu, eds., Saint-Gobain, 1665–1937: Une entreprise devant l’histoire, exhibition catalog, Paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard and Musée d’Orsay, 2006, pp. 34–35.

26. Antonio Averlino, called Filarete, Trattato d’architettura, 1460; quoted in Luigi Zecchin, “Famiglie vetrarie famose: I Serena,” Vetro e Silicati, v. 9, no. 44, 1964, pp. 17–20, reprinted in Zecchin, Vetro e vetrai [note 12], v. 1, pp. 210–213, esp. p. 210: “that will be flat, and inside one will see carved figures and animals and other things.” Cf. Franz Adrian Dreier, “Franz Gondelach: Baroque Glass Engraving in Hesse,” Journal of Glass Studies, v. 38, 1996, pp. 9–227, esp. pp. 57–59.

27. Murano, Museo Vetrario (three plaques); London, The British Museum (one plaque), 13.5 by 13.5 centimeters: Dreier [note 26], pp. 58–59, fig. 41; Zecchin, “Famiglie vetrarie famose” [note 26], pp. 210–211, with images.

28. For a general survey, see Walter Strach, “Constance Phaulkon: Myth or Reality?,” Southeast Asian Studies: A Journal of the Southeast Asian Studies Student Association, v. 4, 2000 (www.hawaii.edu/cseas/pubs/explore/v4/strach.html); and Ronald S. Love, “Rituals of Majesty: France, Siam, and Court Spectacle in Royal Image-Building at Versailles in 1685 and 1686,” Canadian Journal of History, v. 31, August 1996, pp. 171–198.

29. William Dalton, Phaulkon the Adventurer, London: Beeton, 1862; Axel Aylwen, Falcon of Siam, London: Methuen, 1988; idem, The Falcon Takes Wing, London: Methuen, 1991.

30. Alexandre de Chaumont was impressed by the richness of Siam and the opportunities that this country offered to France (Relation de l’ambassade de Mr le Chevalier de Chaumont à la cour du roy de Siam, avec ce qui s’est passé de plus remarquable durant son voyage, The Hague: Isaac Beauregard, 1733, repr. Leiden: IDC, 1985). Claude de Forbin, who had accompanied Chaumont, offered instead a very skeptical account (Le Voyage du comte de Forbin à Siam, 1685–1688, Cadeilhan: Zulma, 1991). Most of the primary Thai sources were lost during the vandalism that accompanied the Burmese conquest of Ayudhya in 1767.

31. Barbara Leitch Le Poer, ed., Thailand: A Country Study, Washington, D.C.: Library of Congress, 1989, pp. 17–18.

32. Phaulkon was born Constantine Hierax on the island of Cephalonia; the Greek surname means “falcon,” and Phaulkon was often addressed, in the Portuguese manner, by his first name, as “Constance.” The best recent survey on this outstanding character seems to be Strach [note 28].

33. Love [note 28].

34. For the first embassy of 1684, see Bénigne Vachet, “Voyage et séjour des envoyés Siamois en France,” in Adrien Launay, Histoire de la mission de Siam, 1662–1811, Société des Missions Etrangères, Documents Historiques, v. 1, Paris: Charles Douniol et Retaux, 1920, pp. 131–153. The second embassy of 1686 is described in idem, “Arrivée des ambassadeurs siamois en France,” in ibid., pp. 180–183. Cf. Dirk van der Cruysse, Louis XIV et le Siam, Paris: Fayard, 1991, pp. 378–403, for Kosa Pan’s report on the journey, which has survived in the Archives des Missions Etrangères in Paris.

35. Mercure Galant, December 1686, reprinted in Troisième partie du voyage des ambassadeurs de Siam en France, Decembre 1686. Seconde partie, Paris: G. de Luyne and others, 1687, pp. 76–85.

36. Ibid., pp. 78–79. “He showed them also that a tear of solid glass, of the size of an olive, could stand the blows of a hammer. This experience surprised them; in the meanwhile, the first ambassador made this tear break with a loud bang by pressing it in his fist; and he was favorably astonished to see that, while rubbing it with the thumb of his other hand, so as to crush the millions of small glass particles, he did not suffer any pricks.” Hubin’s experiments show a striking similarity to those that the scientist Guillaume Homberg brought before the Academy of Science in 1687 (Histoire de l’Académie Royale [note 16], p. 19).

37. Ibid., pp. 85–88. “Madame Perrot, lady of the glasshouse of Orléans, who had come with Monsieur Hubin, was recognized by the ambassadors because when they came to Paris, they had the delight to see the glasshouse of Orléans, where Messieurs Perrot had them admire their works, all that this art produces of the most rare and most beautiful porcelain. These types of porcelain imitate those from the Orient so well that many people have been deceived by their look of crystal, enamel, agate, girasol, and lapis [lazuli], as well as of the red of old and the color of the ruby, and finally of all sorts of artificial stones, which come very close to the precious stones in terms of their durability, their lively sparkle, and their purity, so that competent connoisseurs can be surprised by them. Their crystals have many advantages over the others. They stand the fire, and can pass the line(?) without flaking; which has been proven when the first mandarins to come to France returned to Siam. Madame Perrot made a little gift of these works to the ambassadors, and they kindly accepted them. Do not be surprised that I called Madame Perrot the lady of the glasshouse because the place where the glasshouse of Orléans has been built is a noble fief, and it carries this name in accordance with royal patents.”

38. Barrelet [note 20], p. 48; idem, “Porcelaines de verre en France: Des secrets de Bernard Perrot aux recherches scientifiques de Réaumur,” Cahiers de la Céramique, du Verre et des Arts du Feu, no. 36, 1964, pp. 263 and 265.

39. Mémoire général de tout ce que le roi de Siam a ordonné à ses ambassadeurs de lui faier ou acheter en France, Centre Historique des Archives Nationales (CHAN), Paris, coté C1/23, folios 249–259. Cf. Albert Le Bonheur, Phra Narai, roi de Siam, et Louis XIV, exhibition catalog, Paris: Musée de l’Orangerie, 1986, no. 72; and Cruysse [note 34], p. 401.

40. Mémoire [note 39]. The glass is listed on fols. 251r–255v.

41. Ibid., fol. 253v. “Mirrors, which can by themselves depict various views, such as the king attending his council, at the head of his army, his fleet, and his battles; the king granting audience to ambassadors; the most famous processions he made into his capital cities; his crown ceremony; the creation of the sky and the earth; the representation of fortified cities; the most beautiful buildings and their gardens; the frames(?) [of the mirrors] have to be made of silver.”

42. Käthe Klappenbach, Kronleuchter mit Behang aus Bergkristall und Glas sowie Glaskronleuchter bis 1810, Bestandskataloge der Stiftung Preußische Schlösser und Gärten Berlin-Brandenburg, Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2001, p. 57; Jules Guiffrey, Inventaire général du mobilier de la couronne sous Louis XIV (1663–1715), 2 vv., Paris: J. Rouam, 1885–1886, v. 2, pp. 93– 94.

43. Cf. Jane Shadel Spillman, European Glass Furnishings for Eastern Palaces, Corning: The Corning Museum of Glass, 2006, p. 9.

44. Klappenbach [note 42], p. 54; Guiffrey [note 42], v. 2, p. 95, nos. 56 and 57. The chandeliers were sent to Siam in 1688. Various other items—an amber vase, cabinets decorated with rock crystal or mirror panes, a tapestry, a portrait of King Louis XIV on horseback, and a saber in Turkish style—were deaccessioned in the inventories as being sent to Siam, mostly in 1686 (ibid., v. 1, pp. 202, 224, 252, and 394, and v. 2, pp. 22, 83, and 107).

45. Lucien Lanier, Etude historique sur les relations de la France et du royaume de Siam. De 1662 à 1703. D’après les documents inédits des Archives du Ministère de la Marine et des Colonies ...

46. Cf. the full citation on page 74.

47. Engelbert Kaempfer, The History of Japan, Together with a Description of the Kingdom of Siam, 1690–92, trans. J.G. Scheuchzer, London, 1727, repr., 3 vv., Glasgow: James MacLehose and Sons, 1906, v. 1, p. 28.

48. Kassel, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen. Dreier [note 26], pp. 58–60 and 148–151, nos. 32 and 33. The landgravine’s portrait measures 33.3 by 30.5 centimeters, and the philosopher’s head is slightly smaller.

49. Paris art market (Sylvie Lhermite-King, A la Façon de Venise art gallery, Paris), discovered in 2005 by Jacquelyn I. Babush of Decatur, Georgia. H. 7.5 cm, W. 6.5 cm. The rim is mounted in a toothed silver-gilt band with a loop.

Published on July 12, 2013