Start with the Way the Room Was Lit

Before electricity, a Georgian or Victorian parlour was lit by things you could carry: candles, oil lamps, a fire. Light came from many small sources at about eye level or below, never from a bright disc in the middle of the ceiling. That single fact explains almost everything about how a period room wants to be lit. The shadows were soft and generous, the corners stayed dim, and the brightest point in the room was usually the hearth.

Modern lighting does the opposite. It floods, it points down, and it flattens. If you want a period living room to feel as though it has always been that way, you are not really choosing light fittings — you are choosing to recreate a distribution of light. Aim for several modest sources, placed low, each doing one job well. A room lit by six small pools of warm light will always flatter original cornices, panelling and plasterwork better than one lit evenly from above.

Build the Room in Layers

Think in three levels and resist the temptation to solve everything with the ceiling.

• Ambient light — the softest wash, from a pair of table lamps on side tables at either end of the room, or a standard lamp beside a wing chair. This is the light you leave on when you are reading the newspaper and the kettle is on.
• Task light — a focused pool over a chair for reading, needlework or the crossword. A good reading lamp throws light down and slightly forward, with the shade positioned so the bulb itself is never visible when you are seated.
• Accent light — the small, decorative touches: a picture light over a portrait, a pair of wall lights flanking a chimney breast, a glazed cabinet lit from within, candles on a mantel or in a wall sconce.

If your ceiling rose and pendant are original, keep the fitting but treat it as your lowest layer, not your main one. Put it on a dimmer and use it only when you need to cross the room or find the cat.

Lampshades Do Most of the Work

A period room lives or dies by its shades. An unlined drum shade is a modern object; it throws light sideways and creates glare at seated eye level. For a traditional look, choose a shade that is open at the top and bottom so the light escapes upwards to graze the ceiling and downwards onto the table, with the sides doing the diffusing.

Shapes worth seeking out include the classic empire or coolie, the pleated silk shade, and the tall, slightly tapered card or parchment shade that suits a slim wooden standard lamp. In a drawing room hung with chintz, a gathered silk shade in cream, soft gold or a faded rose is almost always right. In a library or study, a dark green or oxblood shade with a gold inner lining gives a lovely warm glow and a certain solemnity.

Two practical rules. First, the shade should be roughly two-thirds the width of the base for a table lamp, and around 30–35cm across for a standard lamp. Second, the bottom edge of the shade should sit at about chin height when you are standing — that keeps the bulb out of your eyeline and the glare off your face.

Wall Lights, Picture Lights and Candlelight

Wall lights are the great unsung heroes of period interiors. A pair of simple brass or painted wood sconces, mounted about 1.6–1.8 metres from the floor and roughly at shoulder width apart, will frame a chimney breast or a pair of alcoves beautifully. Choose ones with a small shade or a half-shade that directs light up and down the wall — this is what reveals the texture of old plaster and the curve of a cornice.

Picture lights are the same trick applied to a painting. A slim brass tube above a gilt frame, angled slightly towards the canvas, adds warmth and depth without lighting the whole room. If you have a large mirror over the mantel, light it from either side and the room will appear to have twice as many candles as it really does.

And do not dismiss the real thing. Beeswax candles on a dining table or a five-arm candelabra on the mantel give a colour of light no bulb has yet managed to imitate — somewhere near 1800K, and constantly moving. Just keep them away from loose fabric, dried arrangements and long sleeves.

Bulbs, Dimmers and the Small Print

This is where modern convenience can be made to behave itself.

• Colour temperature matters more than wattage. Look for 2200K–2700K warm white, described on the box as "extra warm" or "very warm". Anything at 4000K will make a Georgian drawing room look like a dental surgery.
• Dimming is essential. Fit dimmable LED filament bulbs and a trailing-edge dimmer, or you will get flicker and buzz. If your wiring is older, have an electrician check the switch before you commit.
• Fittings — check whether you need bayonet (B22) or Edison screw (E27) before buying. Many older lampholders are bayonet, and adaptors are ugly.
• Flex — where a cable must run visibly to a lamp, use braided fabric flex in a colour that echoes the scheme, and pin it neatly along the skirting rather than across the carpet.

Setting the Scene for Afternoon Tea

The parlour at four o'clock is the best test of any lighting scheme. The tea things want a little pool of light over the table, whether from a low-hanging pendant on a dimmer, a standard lamp drawn close, or a single candle in a glass hurricane. The fire, if you have one, should be the brightest thing in the room. Everything else should be two or three steps down from it — sconces barely glowing, the standard lamp turned low, a picture light doing its quiet work above the mantel.

Light the room half an hour before your guests arrive. Light it from the far corner inwards, so that you move towards the warmest part of the room as you come in the door. Then turn the overhead off entirely, sit down, and look about you. If you can see the source of every light, it is too bright. If the room seems to be lit by nothing in particular, and the china and the silver are simply gleaming in the gloom, you have got it exactly right.