There’s a cabinet in the Great Hall at Eastnor, on the right-hand side as you walk in. It is made of dark wood and intricately carved – if you look closely, you’ll see scenes of heroes wrestling with sea monsters, men hunting a boar with spears and even a couple of farmers working in fields of wheat (although one of them seems to have clocked off early and is swigging from a bottle of something – hopefully Bordeaux). There are delicate golden tulips protruding from each scene, and spiral turned legs hold the whole thing up.
You might look at it and think “that’s a lovely cabinet”, before turning your attentions to the giant sofas or arabesque wallpaper or collection of gold-framed portraits over the fireplace. But this cabinet rewards closer inspection. Because when you open it, an unexpectedly joyful little world creaks into view.
At its centre is a miniature architectural stage picked out in warm woods, ivory and flashes of green. There are columns, balustrades, arched doorways and chequerboard floors, all arranged around a tiny figure of Diana, Roman goddess of the hunt, with her dog at her side. It is part cabinet, part architectural model and part theatre set – and that’s before you discover the hidden drawers.
Yep. Dismantle sections of the wooden structure and six secret drawers are revealed. And before you ask: no, nothing has ever been found inside them. Although nowadays we do store the key for the grand piano in here for safe keeping.
The cabinet was probably made in about 1650, and is in the style of Pierre Gole, a Dutch-born craftsman who made his name in Paris and was appointed cabinetmaker to Louis XIV in 1651 – a big deal back then. Gole was known for his extraordinarily elaborate furniture, which probably inspired the (unknown) maker of our cabinet. There’s a very similar piece in Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum.
Eastnor’s cabinet, however, comes with an impressive provenance of its own. It was given to John Somers, 1st Baron Somers and Lord High Chancellor, by his friend Charles Talbot, 1st Duke of Shrewsbury, at some point in the late 17th or early 18th century. You might be familiar with old Shrewsbury – his portrait hangs opposite the 1st Earl in the Entrance Hall.
He was also a particularly well-connected friend and one of the leading statesmen of his day. It was Shrewsbury who helped bring William of Orange to England during the Glorious Revolution of 1688. He was also, apparently, exceptionally charming. William III reportedly called him “the king of hearts”. Somers was both his friend and political ally, and correspondence between the two continued even during Shrewsbury’s lengthy retreats from political life.
The cabinet – a rather extravagant gift from one friend to another – therefore predates Eastnor by more than 150 years. It seems to have remained a prized family possession too – it appears, as you can see above, in John Crace’s watercolour sketch of Pugin’s then-proposed redesign of the Gothic Drawing Room, suggesting it was to be in pride of place in Eastnor’s new interiors.
By current castle resident James Hervey-Bathurst’s childhood, it had acquired a slightly less glamorous purpose – it was used to cover a particularly unsightly red baize door leading to a redundant coal lift in the Staircase Hall.
It eventually found its way to the Great Hall in the 1990s, and there it remains, its magical inner world waiting to be discovered by the next person. And perhaps that is where it belongs. From the outside, Eastnor can look rather imposing too: turrets, battlements, great stone walls. Then you open the doors and discover something altogether more colourful, eccentric and fun. You can’t get a more “Eastnor” object than our Louis XIII ebony cabinet.