It is commonly believed that Fortnum & Mason has always been about tea, hampers, and spoiling yourself. But this isn’t entirely true. The origins of one of Britain’s most enduring luxury department stores are, quite literally, lit by candlelight. And not in the romantic sense. In the practical, wax-scraping, monarchy-serving, opportunistic sense.
What most people don’t know is that Fortnum & Mason owes its entire existence to half-burned candles and a man who saw value in waste and became one of the first recyclers.
Candle Ends and Coin
William Fortnum wasn’t born into the business. He was a footman in Queen Anne’s household in the early 1700s. The Queen, as was customary at court, insisted on fresh candles every evening, whether they had burned out or not. The half-used stubs were tossed away. It was a small, aristocratic indulgence to most, meaningless. To Fortnum, it was an opening.
Fortnum began collecting the discarded candles and selling the wax. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was profitable. This minor hustle turned into steady earnings. More importantly, it planted the seed of enterprise. He partnered with Hugh Mason, who owned a small shop in St James’s Market, and the two formed what would become Fortnum & Mason.
Their first major business was candle reselling, not caviar.
An Empire Illuminated
From this small venture, the shop grew. The candles were only the beginning. By the mid-18th century, Fortnum & Mason had positioned itself as a supplier to the wealthy elite, offering preserves, spices, and other indulgences. But candles remained one of their early mainstays, both practically and symbolically
Candlelight wasn't just a necessity in the 18th and 19th centuries. It was social currency. A high-quality beeswax taper was a mark of good breeding. Scented candles, though rare, were signs of extreme wealth. Fortnum’s sold both.
Ironically, something born out of thrift and second-hand wax would, over time, evolve into one of the richest candle collections in the country.
From Utility to Luxury
In the Victorian era, as gaslight replaced candlelight in homes and on the streets, the humble candle began to transform. What was once purely functional became aesthetic and romantic.
Fortnum & Mason understood the shift. Their candles changed, too. They became ornamental, delicately perfumed, and hand-poured. Fragrances like rose, fig, bergamot, and amber were introduced. Packaging became part of the experience.
But the branding never lost sight of its roots. Fortnum’s continued to trade on the idea that even their most luxurious items came with a story. And their candles, though now priced for modern aristocracy, still carried echoes of the original half-burnt wax.
A Light Through Time
Today, Fortnum & Mason candles are no longer about survival or hustle. They are symbols of design, and identity. You don’t just light a Fortnum’s candle; you announce something about yourself. It’s wax with heritage.
The scents are layered, often literary: Jasmine & Orange Blossom, Piccadilly Cypress, or Midnight Rose & Oud. Each one was designed to smell nice and feel like Fortnum’s. It’s luxury, but with an edge of quiet British smugness. You can almost hear the Queen’s footman counting coins as you strike the match.
The Candle That Never Went Out
Fortnum & Mason’s story is often told about tea leaves and silver teapots. But at its core, it’s about candles. About waste turned into wealth. About how wax turned into profit.
It’s about recognising an opportunity when others see none and knowing that even the slightest flicker, if nurtured, can become a beacon that lasts for centuries.
Today, when you smell a Fortnum candle, you’re not just inhaling jasmine or cedarwood. You’re breathing in history, take a moment to think about the man who started it all, recycling used candles.