The Great Exhibitor: The Life and Work of Henry Cole

Apollo, Nov, 2003 by Bernard Bumpus

Elizabeth Bonython and Anthony Burton V&A Publications, 2003, ISBN 1 85177 3266, 35.00 [pounds sterling]

According to an unsigned article in the Dictionary of National Biography, Henry Cole had an 'imperturbable good temper' and 'generally succeeded in getting his own way'. Persistence and energy he certainly had in abundance, but there is not much evidence of his unruffled good humour in this densely detailed and fascinating new biography of Cole. On Cole's appointment to the management of the London School of Design, for instance, the artist Richard Redgrave 'was discreetly asked ... if he could work with Cole, since the latter "had the reputation of not being as easy man to get on with."' The authors record several of Cole's 'explosions', and that towards the end of 1861 'he seems to have grown more bad tempered'. Not surprisingly, perhaps, a compliant King of the Belgians allegedly said to Cole: 'I shall obey you as you are accustomed to be obeyed'. Cole's friend Herbert Minton wrote urging him to curb his aggressive manner, advice clearly not heeded. His ruthless streak was probably the reason why, despite the brilliant entrepreneurial skills he demonstrated in coordinating the Great Exhibition of 1851, he was not then knighted. Lord Derby declared Cole to be the most generally unpopular man he knew, while some contemporaries even considered him 'a playful monster'. By the time he eventually acquired his knighthood, he was in his late sixties. Now endearingly nicknamed 'Old King Cole', he was acclaimed for his leading role as the orchestrator of a series of international exhibitions held in London between 1851 and 1874, and as the founder and first director of the South Kensington Museum, today the Victoria and Albert Museum.

For this substantial contribution to our understanding of Cole's achievements Anthony Burton and Elizabeth Bonython draw on his diaries, and a wealth of other documentation bequeathed by Cole to the V & A and now in the National Art Library. The authors are eminently qualified to undertake the enormous task of sifting the Cole Papers, which lay for many years virtually unmined. Dr. Burton was appointed to the V & A library in the late 1960s at a time when Shirley Bury, to whose memory the book is dedicated, was making a start at deciphering and cataloguing Cole's correspondence. His comprehensive account of the museum's political history, Vision and Accident (1999), drew on this material, part of which, comprising Cole's fifty-seven diaries, Mrs. Bonython has now transcribed and indexed. For insights into Cole's involvement in some of the landmark events of Victorian England, the series of great international exhibitions and the founding of the V & A, the authors' work is invaluable. Their book also demonstrates Cole's unstoppable energy and zeal for reform, which kept his finger--not always welcome--in many pies. Besides children's books, for which he commissioned new illustrations, he himself wrote a series of handbooks to London attractions, and--to avoid disappointment--a separate guide with accurate opening times. Cole was nothing if not practical, and was involved to varying degrees with the introduction of the penny post, plans for public lavatories in London, the standardisation of rail gauges, reform of the patent laws, the training of cookery teachers, an education college for music teachers and a scheme to improve sewage disposal. He also set about reforming his home base, the Record Office, which brought him into conflict with his superiors and nearly led to his permanent dismissal from the civil service. During his time there, he moonlighted as a public relations consultant, masterminding arrangements for Prince Albert to lay the foundation stone for new docks at Grimsby. But his driving ambition was to reform British design, and this can now be appreciated as his most significant educational achievement.

Cole's early interest in art and design went hand in hand with his desk job in the Record Office. He wrote critical articles which found an outlet in prestigious journals such as the Athenaeum. Some watercolours done under David Cox's tuition presumably indicated talent since they were hung in the Royal Academy. But his real promise was demonstrated in marketing a variety of small art objects, which included the world's first Christmas card, designed for him in 1843 by J. C. Horsley. These were produced under the label Felix Summerly Art-Manufactures, and were intended to show 'the union of fine-art with manufacture'. Cole himself designed a tea set which he entered, using the pseudonym Felix Summerly, at an exhibition organised by the Society of Arts in 1845. It won a prize and was immediately put in production by the potter Herbert Minton. The line was so successful that it sold in hundreds of thousands. What transformed Cole's image 'from a small time arts entrepreneur and occasional critic into an influential design pundit' was his membership of the Society of Arts. He joined it a few years after Prince Albert had become its president, and the Society effectively became Cole's power base. The prince had agreed the importance of promoting, through the Society, 'the application of the Fine Arts to the various manufactures of the country'.