Leadwork, Old and Ornamental and for the most part English — Reading Companion

Material as Method

Lethaby repeatedly emphasizes that good leadwork arises from respecting the material's nature. He quotes Viollet-le-Duc approvingly: 'the means they employed and the forms they adopted are exactly appropriate to the material.' This principle governs his judgments. When discussing medieval lead fonts, he notes their 'exactly appropriate' forms; when describing later decorative uses, he sometimes records them without endorsement, as with 'applied badges of gilt lead' on furniture, which he says 'are not all recommended here, they are only recorded.'

The author's own voice emerges in such asides. He distinguishes between techniques that exploit lead's plasticity—like casting and inlaying—and those that merely imitate other materials. The reader should watch for these evaluative moments, as they reveal Lethaby's criteria for good design.

From Church to House: Objects in Context

The excerpts move from ecclesiastical objects (fonts, coffins, tomb slabs) to domestic and civic ones (cisterns, pipe heads, garden vases). This range reflects the book's scope: lead was used for everything from heart boxes to staircase balustrades. Lethaby provides specific examples, such as the 'delicate openwork panel' from a fourteenth-century chest at Newport, Essex, and the 'front door fanlights' of eighteenth-century London houses.

He also notes economic details: payments to Edward Watson in 1780 for 'lead pateras from 2½d. to 10d. each' and '137 feet run of large lead frieze in the exhibition room at 4s.' These figures ground the decorative arts in actual workshop practice. The reader gains a sense of lead as a practical, affordable material for ornament.

Techniques Described from Practice

Lethaby explains how lead was worked: 'the design is engraved in the marble and holes are drilled with a bow drill in the sunk parts, some inclined at an angle to give a better hold; strips of lead of sufficient substance are then hammered into the casements with a wooden mallet.' This passage, from the section on inlaid decoration, shows his attention to process. He similarly describes casting, glazing, and the making of pipe heads.

The book includes numerous references to surviving examples in museums and churches. The excerpts mention objects in the British Museum, the Kensington Museum (now V&A), and specific locations like St. Mary Redcliffe, Bristol, and Temple Church, London. These citations make the book a guide to extant works, not just a theoretical treatise.

Reading the Illustrations

The list of figures promises over sixty illustrations, from 'Egyptian inscribed Tablet' to 'Vase, Ha...' (the excerpt cuts off). Many are line drawings of specific objects: spires, fonts, coffins, statues, cisterns. The reader should consult these images alongside the text, as Lethaby often refers to them directly (e.g., 'Fig. 32. Heart Box of King Richard').

The illustrations serve as visual evidence for his arguments about form and technique. For instance, the fonts at Brookland, Kent (Figs. 27-28) and Edburton, Sussex (Fig. 29) are described in terms of their lead construction. The book's value lies partly in this integration of image and description, allowing the reader to see the objects as the author did.

Lethaby's Leadwork rewards a patient, object-focused reading. Rather than seeking a continuous argument, follow the author from one artifact to the next, noting how he balances technical description with historical context. The excerpts suggest a book that is both a craftsman's manual and an antiquarian's catalogue. For a first reading, pay attention to the specific examples and the author's occasional judgments—they reveal the principles behind the work.

There’s something grounding about W. R. Lethaby’s old leadwork—those quiet, worn cisterns and fonts holding centuries of weather. It made me think of how shadow falls through stone in Selected etchings by Piranesi, series 1. — Story, Setting & Ideas, where even ruins feel alive with patience. Both left me sitting still, just appreciating what time shapes gently.