Almost eight years ago, I wrote a piece about a hidden letter written by Jacob Arend, a journeyman cabinetmaker, living and working in Würzburg, Germany. Arend, and fellow journeyman, Johannes Witthalm, had recently finished making their masterpiece, an ornate writing cabinet. The letter was hidden in the writing cabinet in a space beneath a small drawer
The splendor of the writing cabinet, and the expensive materials used in its making, contrasts sharply with the living conditions mentioned in Arend’s letter. He described the scarcity of food he, and others in the houshold, have endured. Recent wine vintages are poor and good wine costs twice as much. He mentions an ongoing war. With the writing cabinet completed, Arend and Witthalm decided to leave Würzburg and seek better fortune elsewhere. He asks the finder of the letter to toast to the journeymen’s good health, or to their salvation.
The letter is dated, “This 22nd day of October in the year 1716.”
Jacob Arend’s letter brings to mind a quote attributed to Mark Twain, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.”
You can read the original blog post here. And, a short follow-up post about Arend here.
If you happen to be in London, the cabinet is currently on view at the V&A Museum in the gallery of Europe 1600-1815, Room 7.
Prost!
–Suzanne Ellison
Absolutely fascinating! I had missed the original post from 2015, so many thanks for bringing it to renewed notice!
Furthermore, now knowing that today is Jacob Arend Day, a glass will most certainly be hoist in his honour tonight!
I made soup today and used wine to deglaze the pot. That counts, doesn’t it?
This is wonderful. Thanks!
Thanks, John!
As a lad in the early ’60s I worked as an apprentice with an old-school electrician who always left his ‘Daily Mirror’ (newspaper) inside one of the roof-cavities of the houses that we wired. They are probably still there somewhere, detailing the screaming, early Beatles-fans or the salacious Profumo affair, which was all over the news at the time.
However, leaving a memento in made pieces is something that I have also done since I found an old, carved side-table, thrown in the junk in the early ’70s.
It was a lovely, carved piece and I cleaned it up, restored the joint-glue, cleaned all the decades of krud to good wood and it is still here, behind me as I write.
The maker wrote beneath the top piece, ” S. Huggard – Mallow – 1909″. I don’t know who Mister or Monsieur Huggard was or where Mallow is, though the animated carved designs look to be from the East-Indies.
Since then I make single one-offs, and always write my name , date and the location somewhere out of sight.
For the past 20 years or so I have also built in this year’s coin (usually a Pound-coin) deep inside where it will only be discovered at the end of the piece’s life.
Thank you! I like your idea of leaving a coin. On the other hand, I would probably faint if I found an old newspaper with news of the early days of the Beatles.
Not looking to be political – it’s one of the things I love about this blog. that being said, as I read this, on October 22 I am putting on my uniform to go to fight for my country and family. back in reserves duty for the first time in a decade. would much rather be woodworking. History definitely and unfortunately rhymes
Assaf, I hope you are back to woodworking soon.
👍👍👍
Before I set the last tread in the last flight of stairs in a house, I like to label a wedge with my initials, the date, and the weather, and drop it in the cavity.
One of my coworkers omits the label in favor of a beer bottle cap.
Another figures he has met this requirement with a wad of chew.
No need or time for a letter, per se, but a friendly nod to the next carp? Why not.
I would prefer to find the wedge with initials, date and weather details over a wad of chew!
When was the letter discovered in the compartment below the drawer?
The secret compartment and the letter were found by two young boys in late 1967, when the cabinet was still in the possession of the Gibbons family. The cabinet was loaned to the V&A in 1968; the museum purchased it in 1977. The letter was not translated and studied until 2014.
I missed the post yesterday. However, I did raise a toast to the craftsfolk of yore after dinner last night. Still have 10/22 on my calendar as Jacob Arend day. 🙂
Scott! Are you are across the International Date Line? 😂 Today is the 22nd. Yes, I still have the 22nd as Jacob Arend Day on it on my calendar.
Laughing at myself. I saw the notification on my phone on Saturday and made after dinner plans accordingly. I do not drink much these days so I didn’t repeat the toast on Sunday. 🙂
I did, however, get a very rare full day of shop time Saturday; a fitting tribute.
I found this page in the museum’s collection. I’m convinced it’s the correct one. Enjoy: https://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O70687/writing-cabinet-arend-jacob/
Merci Suzanne. Très belle histoire ! Le menuisier Joachim Martin avait laissé une longue lettre sous l’envers du plancher qu’il posait en 1880 :
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joachim_Martin
Ooh, fascinant! Une autre voix du passé. Merci, Maurice.