30/08/2026
Eighteenth-century England had a cherub problem.
English plasterers could give you a magnificent ceiling. Ribs, leaves, shells, scrolls, geometric borders, all crisp and orderly.
But when a wealthy family wanted cheeks, fingers, curls and several naked babies hovering above the furniture, they often called the Italians.
In 1745, Lumley Castleโs Garter Room was transformed with elaborate plasterwork. Around its oval mirror appeared flowers, curling foliage and a gathering of cherubs who have been silently judging peopleโs reflections ever since.
The work is believed to be by Pietro La Francini, part of a remarkable tradition of travelling craftsmen from the Italian-speaking Alps.
Families such as the Lafranchinis came from tiny communities where plasterwork passed from father to son. Boys grew up watching wet lime and gypsum become saints, warriors, goddesses and alarmingly well-fed infants.
Then they carried that skill across Europe.
The materials were cheap enough: lime, plaster, sand, water and animal hair. The difficulty was turning the mixture into something alive before it hardened.
Working from scaffolding, the craftsman shaped every eyelid, knuckle and curl by hand, often while the material was already beginning to set.
There was no undo button. No sanding away a bad expression next Tuesday.
That is why Britainโs grand houses hired Alpine specialists. English craftsmen built the room. The Italians arrived and filled it with faces.
So the babies above this mirror are more than decoration. They are the work of a travelling artistic tradition, carried from a small corner of the Alps to County Durham.
You may only glance into the mirror.
They have been staring back since 1745.
