Collecting Entrancing Entrances

What more appropriate place to start talking about antiques than where your house starts – at the front door? The entry hall or foyer is the first and last impression of every visitor, so why not do something old with it?

Here are some pieces that are ideal for entryways, and if you don’t have a foyer, these versatile items can easily be accommodated elsewhere.

Hall trees. One of my favorite antiques is my hall tree. If you think all hall trees are like that thing that looked like a spread-out post in the principal’s office back in school, you haven’t been browsing the right antique shops. My hall tree is an elaborately carved oak monument with hat and coat hooks, a trap door seat, umbrella slits on the sides, narrow metal trays to catch the umbrella drippings, and an irregular shaped, beveled mirror in the center of the back. If I had to give up all of my antiques but one, my hall tree would be a prime contender to survive.

They’re not all oak – you can find some fine ones in walnut or mahogany – but I personally prefer oak because of the color, the appearance of the grain and the intricate carving you find on some of these pieces.

The mirror is a key indicator of the quality of the piece – the larger, more irregularly shaped ones are preferred. A beveled mirror is also a distinct plus.

Did you ever wonder how all of those old English hall trees (and the other pieces for that matter) get over here? According to Colonel James Pinckney Caston this is the way it usually happens: You establish a contact in Great Britain, you pay him $75 per day plus expenses to take you to estate sales. You buy the choicest pieces and then hire a packer to cram them into a 40 foot container. You put the container on a ship and come home and wait. Eventually your container will arrive at the port in Houston. You hire someone to haul it up here. Of course, if things are slow when you hit Great Britain, you’ll probably also have to scour Belgium, Holland and France.

Colonel Caston has several very nice hall trees at Antique Alley, 2925 N. Henderson. So does Old English Antiques (alias Portobello Market), at 4311 Oak Lawn. Most are $100 to $200, occasionally up to $500.

Deacon’s benches and window seats. The terms “deacon’s bench” and “window seat” are generally used interchangeably in the trade to describe wooden benches with upright wooden backs wide enough for two people to sit uncomfortably. Actually a purebred deacon’s bench (sometimes also called a monk’s bench) more closely resembles an abbreviation of an old church pew, while a window seat is usually more elaborate in design and will likely have a hinged door in the seat providing access to interior storage. Either will make a delightful contribution to an entry foyer; after you get it home you can call it what you want to.

No one ever sits for long in an entry-way and there’s never been a seat more suitably designed for not sitting long than one of these pieces. Get one and the next time an unwelcome solicitor barges past the front door, seat him on your deacon’s bench. I’ve known people who could swim under water longer than they could sit on one of these things.

Most of these pieces are oak, which is another reason to select an oak hall tree. Deacon’s benches and window seats can be a little hard to find – you’ll hardly ever see a dealer with more than one. An exception is The Collectors, at 2723 Routh, which had three the other day, all quite unusual. One beautiful piece seated four instead of the customary two and was so old it was put together with pegs. Another had a rocker base, and a third converted into a serving table when needed. Simpler benches cost $75 to $150, and the finer ones up to $500.

English prints. The wall area over your deacon’s bench is an ideal show-place for a turn-of-the-century English print. These charming old pictures generally depict life in England among the upper crust who, judging by their attire, the nature of their activities (or inactivity more often than not) and their facial expressions, were oblivious to even the faintest notion of hard times. There’s one little girl, about ten years old, who must have been the Rodney Allen Rippey of 1910. She appears in print after print with apparently not a thing in the world to do but tease a big collie dog. The grownups too must have been hard pressed to keep their activity calendars full because they always appear to be bored to death with garden parties, tea and one another.

But these prints are attractive. Most are large, commonly 24″ by 36″, and attractively framed in wide-bordered, gold-trimmed oak with glass fronts. And you can buy print, frame and all for less than you would have to pay for a comparable newly produced frame. One of my favorite places to look for prints is the Browse Shop at 216 W. Yarmouth, which can be conveniently reached by going out R.L. Thornton Freeway into Oak Cliff and exiting at Zangs. Look for a little yellow duplex with a huge sign in the yard proclaiming “sale” every Friday and Saturday. (Enviably, they’re closed all the other days.) You can find real quality prints here for $25 to $45. You can also find nice prints at Chelsea Square, a pleasant assortment of individual dealers congregated at 3136 Routh.

Brass spittoons. No entryway is complete without a brass spittoon. Avoid the prissy euphemism “cuspidor.” And please don’t buy one of those reproductions which are being manufactured in disgusting quantities. Get a spittoon that has been spat in, or at least at. If it’s shiny, it’s probably not old. And if you set it on the floor and kick it and it doesn’t return to its upright position, it’s probably new and unsullied. And even if it’s weighted on the bottom and does sit back up, it still may be a reproduction! Buy one from an established dealer with a shop and not at a flea market. Look at it – you’ll likely be able to tell if it’s been through its fair share of kicking and spitting. And out of respect, place it beside your hall tree, not your deacon’s bench. As is the case with many authentic items, the real ones cost no more than the copies, if as much, about $40 to $50.

Washstands, bowls and pitchers. A washstand is ideal for an entryway. There are plenty around to buy, so there’s no excuse for not having one.

The oldest ones you will probably run into date back to perhaps the 1850’s. These are found in three basic types – plain wood, fancy wood and marble-topped. The fancy, ornate wood stands can be difficult to locate but the other two types are everywhere at $75 to $200. Most have an old hanging bar for hand towels either above or at the side. Most wood tops once occupied American farm houses and the marble tops abodes in Europe, though both cross geographic lines.

A washstand without a bowl and pitcher is like a Cowboy game without a traffic jam – it’s just not natural. The most interesting wash bowls and pitchers are those complemented by companion pieces, normally a smaller pitcher, a soap dish, a tooth brush holder and a shaving mug, all with matching designs, usually floral. You can also enliven your display by adding an old bar of packaged soap, a shaving brush, and, if children don’t frequent your premises, a straight razor.

Some washstands, especially the smaller oak country-type stands, have rather limited counter top capacity, so be sure yours can accommodate a multi-piece set before selecting your accessories. Expect to pay $60 to $200 for washbowl and pitcher sets, depending upon the age, quality, condition, attractiveness and number of pieces. This price range is for sets from the mid-nineteenth century and later, as are the prices quoted on the wash-stands. Don’t expect to buy a piece from colonial days for these prices.

Don’t buy a washbowl and pitcher set at a flea market – there are as many phony bowls and pitchers circulating as there are spittoons. And if you buy one from a dealer who has one of those shops along the highway, and who displays (barely) an unobtrusive little sign saying “all sales are final,” can you guess what he’ll say when you discover it’s a reproduction and take it back?

It’ll take some time to get your entry foyer set up just the way you want it, but here’s what you can look forward to. On one of those rainy Texas winter days, you can come in the front door, sling your raincoat onto a hall tree hook, look into an irregular shaped mirror to straighten your hair, wash up, expectorate, sit on an uncomfortable seat and as you strip off your galoshes, glance over your shoulder at a little English girl playing dirty tricks on a big collie dog. What more could you want out of life than that?