Category: Campaign Furniture

My second version of a Roorkhee chair features details found on other traditional early 20th-century chairs – the most notable difference being that this chair does not have leather straps running left and right below the seat.

This strapless setup seems to be far more common in the historical photos I’ve examined of Roorkhee chairs at war and on safari.

The good news is that this chair sits just the same as the earlier version I built.

The even better news (for me) is that I have lots more variations to explore in the upcoming months because I have orders for several more of these chairs and will be teaching a class in making them next summer at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking.

The Roorkhee chair – sometimes called the Indian chair – was in production for much longer than my earlier sources suggested. I’ve found manufactured versions that look like they are from the 1970s. So there’s lots of territory for me and other woodworkers to trek through – different leg turnings, wood, hardware, leather strapping and so forth.

There’s even a version I’ve found that’s covered in fur. It will be great for your next winter adventure – or wife-swapping party I suppose.

My next variations will focus on the leather – I have some dyed leather sides coming that are waterproof and others that are dyed different colors on either side.

I still need to find a source for sewing some canvas seat covers, however. Otherwise I’m going to get a bad reputation in the bovine community.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I design furniture and use photographs of other pieces as a guide, I have to be careful. While photos are great for transmitting form, they often obscure details, texture or even the piece’s true color.

My brain also tends to fill in all these missing details with workmanship that is too perfect, too precious or just wrong. It’s like using a “paint bucket” tool in a drawing program instead of a piece of graphite pencil on paper.

This Campaign-style tea caddy that I studied yesterday at Tucker Payne Antiques in Charleston, S.C., is a good example of this phenomenon. I’ve seen photos of hundreds of caddies, but nothing beats spending time with the real thing.

The outside of the chest is pretty much as-expected. It’s when you lift the lid that the fun begins. The six hinged lids are – for me – what makes this piece special. I like the way the light plays over the frame-and-panel structures. And still after about 150 years of service, the lids fit well and move smoothly.

As you get closer, however, you discover that these lids are not made using frame-and-panel construction. Each lid is one piece of wood and all the details were carved or scratched into the work. This is straightforward work with a chisel and scratch stock – it would be a ridiculous amount of work to make 24 26 tiny mortise-and-tenon joints. And really quite unnecessary, as the smooth action of the lids will attest.

This is the kind of detail that in-person examination reveals and is why I’ll drive many hours to see it.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. I’ve been blogging about some of the other Campaign pieces I’ve encountered during this trip on my blog at Popular Woodworking Magazine. You can read those entries here.

“Here I must breakfast, tiffin, tea, dine, and sup. Here I must taste – oh! joy of little birds – boiled quails inoculated with green chillies. Here I must know what curry means. From here I must ride, drive, play golf – do what I like. Here, undisturbed, I can write, read, dream, and dose; and here for my special use is set apart that one secret of all Indian luxury and calm, the Indian chair.

“…Here is the easy chair, with a box of cigars by our side, a peg within call, and intellectual men of the world with whom to converse. We from home have doubtless much to say, but we have also much more to learn.”

— Clement Scott, “Pictures of the World” (Remington 1894)

I just posted some details about Roorkhee Chair No. 1 here. Four or five more to follow.