The Tripod Table
This post is part of a series called A history of the world in 100 everyday antiques. My goal is to tell the stories of 100 “everyday antiques” that you could have in your home for under £100. This is a story about a tripod table that makes a good home for a houseplant.
Houseplants in lockdown
In the last year of home-working and lockdowns there’s been a lot of love for houseplants. Bringing that little bit of life into your house; the green shoots, the oxygen, the unpredictability has been a lifeline for a lot of us. And a welcome distraction.
But where to put them?! They cluster on windowsills and in bright corners of rooms… but pretty quickly you’re out of space. It also turns out that a year is a long time. So that little sprout in a jam jar is now a riotous jungle.
The Victorians, ever the pioneers in the realm of elaborate and slightly useless household objects, have a solution for this – the ‘jardiniere’; a purpose-made pedestal with an elaborate plant pot on top. But in the early stages of lockdown-houseplant-mania it wasn’t really possible to go out shopping for this sort of thing…
So we improvised and brought into service one of the most versatile of everyday antiques. You’ll find them used in homes across the country as coffee tables, lamp stands, bedside tables, “that little table where you put your tea/ glass of wine while you read a book on the sofa”… I’m talking of course about the trusty tripod table:
Introducing: The Tripod Table
My little tripod table (so-called because it has three legs) was made from a few lumps of oak in about 1780 somewhere in the English countryside. It would probably originally have been intended to hold a candle but these are often referred to as “wine tables” due to their very convenient height when placed next to a chair or sofa.
Tripod tables come in all shapes and sizes and mid-Georgian ones like mine were made in large numbers (imagine how many candle tables you might need in a dark old country house).
By antique standards these 250 year old tables are common as muck. But if, like me, you like this sort of thing then you’re in luck. You could pick one up in an auction for well under £100 — and if you keep your eyes open on eBay or Facebook Marketplace they’re often pretty much given away. Definitely an everyday antique.
But none of that explains why I love this little table. Let’s give it some more context…
Getting knocked about
It’s normal for an everyday antique like this to get messed around with over the course of 250 years— in daily use they get knocked over and fallen on the whole time. For me this adds to the charm.
The object and the various repairs show its age and form part of its story…
Maybe the table leg snapped at a Battle of Trafalgar Victory Party in 1815. Or perhaps the marriage of a base and top from two different tables was the result of a jazz, cocktail and cocaine-fuelled bicycle jousting incident in the 1920s. Don’t tell me that it was more likely to have been stumbled into by some port-drunk, gouty Victorian patriarch on his way to bed — I prefer my version!
Here are just a few of the little unique fixes and tweaks I can see on my table… If you don’t have the time to read, here’s a 3min video guided tour:
- The top of my table has been knocked off its base so many times that you can see evidence of several layers of repair. There’s an original set of screw holes… then a new set from when the old holes got stripped out by the screws going back in too many times… and some glue from when someone thought that might help… all the way up to the 1990s nails that are keeping it in place until its next accident.
- The top of the table has split along the line where the two original pieces of oak were held together as the top was turned into shape. It’s probably come completely apart a few times and the little gap is stuffed with what looks like wood filler and glue.
- A little chunk has been chiselled out of the rim so that a lamp cord could come off it more elegantly — an excellent modernisation. Another good big chip has come out of the rim less intentionally and glued back on but you can barely tell under a few layers of beeswax.
- At least one of the legs has been snapped off. There’s evidence of a pretty old repair (maybe even professionally done!) but once a leg’s gone once it might go again 30 years later (which is pretty good going…) so someone’s made good and sure it’ll hold by adding in a nail from underneath.
And I for one am not shy of adding my own part to the story of an object like this. And luckily antiques like this are cheap and well made enough that they are easy to repair yourself with a few basic tools and tips (A topic for a future post perhaps…)
Construction and design
Ok, sure, this sort of table is very common and follows a relatively standard design. There’s only so much you can do with three legs, a turned stem, and a top. But, as with most antique furniture, my little table is packed with original and acquired quirks that make it fun and interesting.
If you don’t have the time to read, check out the 3 min video guided tour above.
Materials and quality
My table is made of oak and is a bit rough around the edges. The table top uneven when you look at it from the side (like it’s been turned on a wonky lathe) and the underside of the top and legs has been left pretty un-finished.
On an upmarket mahogany version made in London this would all be razor sharp angles and even surfaces, cleanly finished. Which frankly I find a bit boring — I much prefer something like this; made in the countryside by a local maker out of local materials.
The top
Tripod table tops come in all shapes and sizes. I would say my table is the “classic” for a small table like this. The top consists of small two planks screwed tightly into a thick base. This has then been turned on a lathe as a single chunk of wood, carving the surface of the table down into the wood and leaving the solid rim standing proud.
You can still see some of the circular marks on the surface of the table from the chisel used on the lathe. The most delightful thing about this approach (as opposed to just trying to glue a rim onto a round table) is that you get the full benefit of the lovely oak grain, which you can follow across the table and up into the rim.
I mentioned that this shape is (for me!) the classic. But tripod table tops come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. A fun one to look out for is the “pie crust” top. Partly because they look great (if you like a bit more rococo flourish) but mainly because it’s just a great name for a design feature.
The legs
The legs on my table are quite a distinctive design feature. Earlier in the 18th century most of these tables would have had a sort of “swan’s neck” shaped leg — a smooth, elegant, quite organic sweep. These legs are heavily influenced by the neoclassical fashion coming in in the later 18th century. They’ve got an angular quality to them that’s mimicking Greek or Egyptian design motifs.
Witnessing the Revolution…
This traditional looking little table was made during one of the most unstable and transformational periods of Western history. Everything was in flux and revolutionary changes were coming:
The American War of Independence is raging (1775–83) as is the War of the French Revolution (1793–1802). The first owner of my table would definitely have been freaking out about this. The whole world order was falling apart.
And they might well have read about all of this fearfully in the newly emerging mass media: in 1785 The Times was first published in London (the first newspaper to bear that name).
The Age of Industrial Iron
It’s easy to have a mental picture of my table being made in an age of artisan crafts-people working in traditional ways with ancient materials. But this world was already being swept aside by the accelerating Industrial Revolution.
So what was going on whilst my table was being hewn out of a lump of oak in a local workshop?
- In 1776 The Watt steam engine first goes into production. Suddenly coal mines and factories had a cheap, efficient power source to drive their growth.
- In 1781 the world’s free-standing iron structure, called The Iron Bridge, is built in Shropshire. This is the starting point for all of the iron and steel-framed structures that exploded out of the Victorian era.
As seen on TV
If you keep your eyes peeled you can easily spot the humble tripod table in most Georgian and Victorian period dramas. But if you’d like to see exactly the sort of world that my table was born into why not have a little binge on Poldark — set in the 1780s in rapidly industrialising Cornwall and focussing on a soldier returning home after fighting in the American War of Independence:
Spotting tripod tables in the wild…
I bloody love a tripod table. Whether it sits by your sofa for your cup of tea or in your window holding a lockdown pot plant, the tripod table has got to be one of the most versatile and enjoyable of everyday antiques. It’s a treat to be able to make everyday use of an object like this that can bring alive so much history.
If you want to get to know one personally and you don’t already have one in your life, you’ll be pleased to hear that you can find them in all sorts of unexpected locations. In the last few weeks I’ve spotted a Georgian tripod table at Teals Farm Shop on the A303 and another at a trendy cafe in a London industrial estate:
Next time you spot a tripod table why not take a closer look and find a friend for life. Or just a handy place to put your pot plants.
More stories like this
Thanks so much for reading this story about an old table! It’s a bit of an experiment so I’d really appreciate your comments and feedback.
This post is part of a series called A history of the world in 100 everyday antiques. My goal is to tell the stories of 100 “everyday antiques” that you could have in your home for under £100.
