Chesterfield sofas appear to be sweeping the nation (including — full disclosure — my own living room). They are both cozy and tailored, and can suggest anything from the library of a gentlemen’s club (image 2) to a bordello (and hopefully neither, in my apartment). Strangely, its origins are pretty much a mystery — a mystery that we will explore, but by no means unlock, today.
Chesterfield sofas are large couches with rolled arms the same height as the back, and typically with deep button tufting and nail-head trim. The lore around the Chesterfield is that it was invented when the fourth Earl of Chesterfield, Philip Stanhope (1694-1773), commissioned a similar sofa in the mid-18th century.
The mid-18th century is indeed when there was a huge proliferation of new shapes of sofas. Sofas had only been around since about 1690 — before that they had benches, since comfort was not a high priority in furniture until the 1700's. One sofa shape popular in France in the 1770s was the “paphose,” or “turquoise” (two names adapted from Turkish words, like the word "sofa," itself) where the back flowed into two curved armrests — the arms were not the same height as the back, but there was a sense of continuity and a coziness that is familiar to the Chesterfield (image 3). So it wouldn’t be surprising if the early origins of the Chesterfield were indeed from around Philip Stanhope’s era.
However, it’s unlikely that the Earl was responsible for the development of the form as we know it. The type of button tufting we see on the Chesterfield did not emerge until the 19th century, when the burgeoning middle class wanted furniture that was at once comfortable and ostentatious. The coiled spring was patented in 1828, creating a revolution in cushy chairs, and tufting was a handsome and effective way to keep all the horsehair stuffing neatly in place.
But it takes more than mere tufting to define a Chesterfield. The first image of a true Chesterfield — high, rolled arms, generous proportions — I could find is from 1857, in a James Roberts painting of the drawing room at Balmoral Castle (image 4). (Balmoral had just been built in 1853, perfectly to Queen Victoria’s taste, but to me this room looks like a traditional room in a palace that has been hastily redecorated for the return of an imaginary monarch’s teenage son, who is in a garage band.) Ten years later, we see another Chesterfield in Frederick Walker’s 1867 illustration for Thackeray’s novel Philip (image 5), with the sofa situated in an early Aesthetic movement interior — note the stylized floral wallpaper and the lushly patterned rug. Between Victoria’s mad-for-plaid country castle and the Aesthetic parlor, the versatility of the Chesterfield was clearly apparent even in the mid-1800s. While we see the form, though, it had not yet adopted the name, and, according to the OED. the first recorded usage of the word “Chesterfield” was not until 1900. Confusing the matter is that it seems that Canadians (who I trust will correct me if I’m wrong, eh?) use “Chesterfield” to refer to sofas in general, so it’s unclear to which “Chesterfield” that 1900 usage was referring...
Despite its 18th- and 19th-century roots, the Chesterfield seems to adapt itself to a variety of modern interiors. From the wide availability of the form at many major retailers, it seems demand is as high as ever. How about you — Do you have/covet one? Or is this just another piece of Victorian furniture that should be banished to the attic?
You can find Chesterfields at Restoration Hardware, Anthropologie, and even La-Z-Boy. Here is a great roundup of Chesterfields from Apartment Therapy Los Angeles.
Images: 1 Classic Chesterfield spotted in Wales at a gorgeous house called Felin Newydd, photo by Anna Hoffman; 2 Reading Room at the Athenaeum Club in London, with Chesterfield-style chairs, photo by George P. Landow for victorianweb.org; 3 A Victorian-era paphose with button tufting, a distinctly feminine forerunner of the Chesterfield, perhaps? image from victorianweb.org; 4 The Drawing Room at Balmoral, by James Roberts (1857), in the Royal Collection; 5 The Fates, by Frederick Walker (1867), victorianweb.org; 6 Image by Dan Duchars via Desire to Inspire; 7 Image from Elle Deco via Desire to Inspire; 8 Image from the Rug Company via Desire to Inspire; 9 Anthropologie's Atelier Chesterfield, $5998(!), via Anthropologie Addict.
Thanks to Amy Sande-Friedman for her amazing help with 19th-c. paintings!










White Enamel Flatwa...
My Ukranian-Canadian grandmother always says "chesterfield." I don't. I never thought it was a Canadian thing, just a grandma thing.
i love the paint color in that. & i think the framed photos would look better grouped together & all down a bit. and not so symetrical.
I love Chesterfields - They're utterly timeless...
...however one of the most common decorating mistakes is in pix 5, 6 & 7: the end tables are far too short for these sofas. If you're gonna get a Chesterfield or Tuxedo sofa and use end tables with them, the tables need to be closer to the height of the arm/back of the sofa - Otherwise, they're difficult if not impossible to use.
the light blue Anthro chesterfield is on sale at the Santa Monica location for $1500.
I noticed La-Z-Boy had a version awhile ago....can anyone comment on the quality of their version? Has anyone seen it in person?
Interesting... I'm Canadian, and always thought chesterfield was just another word for couch, not a specific style. But I definitely don't say "eh" :)
Thanks for an interesting read, Anna. I'm looking forward to more postings from you...
lol the first time I sat on one, it was at a funeral home when I was 9 at my dad's wake... It was black leather... and it felt cold... I really couldn't live with it; also since then I can't stand the smell of lavender cleaners or the dirty yellow-green color family.
Why, pray tell, is that art hung so horribly high above the sofa in the first shot?
My great-grandmother always called sofas "chesterfields." And she grew up in Oklahoma and then headed out to California. Her brothers had a furniture business up in Chico California, maybe that had something to do with it?
I like ephcee am Canadian and had never thought a chesterfield was a specific type of couch. I just thought it was an old-timey word for Sofa.
I learned something new today!
i've heard the words "couch", "sofa", "divan", "davenport", and "chesterfield" all applied to this generic form of furniture. but i usually associate "chesterfield" to the form you are discussing here.
i have long coveted them. ideally, in a dark and burnished burgundy leather. sadly, my partner hates them.
I have long loved chesterfields. Here are a couple of my favourites (love vintage cognac leather ones, and this red one looks quite comfy):
http://www.destinationbcn.com/principal.htm
(this place has two; click to image 8 of 26)
http://www.parisattitude.com/apartment.asp?numProduit=929
I love chesterfields. They're the perfect couch - classic, graceful, hard wearing, structurally robust, and comfortable both for sitting upright and sprawling (and sitting on the arms). The lines are strong and masculine, yet the buttoning and the curves in the arms stop them looking abrupt. They can be made to look feminine through velvet upholstery, slimming the padding and detailing the legs, but they are the antithesis of "frou-frou".
Sadly it's very hard to get a good one unless you live in England and can get an antique on eBay. Most of the ones I've seen here in Australia have cheap cushioned seats rather than integrated padded upholstery. Some even have plastic castors (shudder).
I have a matching set of chocolate brown velvet chesterfields. I am taking them to the grave.
The Chesterfield should have its own IMDB profile.