The original porcelain handle was replaced over one hundred years ago with a woven wicker covered bronze replacement. I have dozens of examples of wicker covered metal replacement handles in my collection, as this was a standard form of inventive repair. At first glance, the handles all look pretty much the same, but upon closer inspection, you will see a variation to the pattern within the weaving. This handle has a straightforward checkerboard weave, but I have some pieces with more than one color of rattan, woven in a more intricate pattern. I think a post dedicated to showing the many variations of woven handle styles would be interesting, don’t you?

This blue & white decorated jug with similar form still has its porcelain handle and lid intact. Before my jug became an example of “inventive repair” it would have looked much like this one.

Photo courtesy of eBay

This dish must have held great sentimental value for its original owner. In order to make it “whole” again after being shattered over 100 years ago, it was professionally repaired using 10 large metal staples, overpainted to mask the unsightly raw material. Sadly, the dish was dropped AGAIN, resulting in the loss of 3 staples and a sloppy glue job, now yellow with age. To add insult to injury, later in life it was bound with a cat’s cradle worth of string and cord, so it could proudly hang on a wall for all the world to see the tenacity of this unlikely survivor.

This lovely lady sits atop a powder box and still has her original porcelain legs.

Photo courtesy of LiveJournal

The original handle must have broken off after an inebriated hunter grabbed the cup at the conclusion of the hunt, downed his sherry, then promptly fell off his horse, dropping and breaking the prized vessel. I imagine the host was not pleased by the guest’s unruly behavior and surely did not invite him back anytime soon. Luckily, a metalsmith, most likely in the 19th century, came to the rescue and fashioned a new handle with support bands, thus enabling another, more sober guest to stay in the saddle and toast his gracious host.

An original paper label on the bottom links this cup to esteemed collector and author Frank Falkner of Cheshire, England. The June 1905 issue of Glass and Pottery World contains an article that includes this amusing excerpt: “Mr. Falkner and Mr. Lidelstham had a hobby for old pottery, but they did not follow the usual practice of collectors by acquiring rare specimens of old Sevres, Worcester, Crown Derby, Wedgwood or others of the same high class. They directed their attention to the homely figures and ornaments with which ‘the rural population of a century ago used to deck their dresser or mantel shelf. These common rustic figures, made by men who were little more than peasants themselves, had been passed over in silence for the most part even in ceramic histories.’”

The Stirrup Cup by Heywood Hardy (1842-1933) shows hunters being offered drinks in figural stirrup cups by their host.

Another fine example of a rare L-shaped stirrup cup, this one is in the form of a hare, and still with its original handle.

Photo courtesy of Earle D. Vandekar

This toy cannon, also made of brass, is in its original form and shows what mine may have looked like before the barrel was strapped on to its wood replacement base. Though not up to military code, I still prefer mine!

Photo courtesy of Esty

**UPDATE 4/23**

An astute  subscriber and former gun collector has informed me that this cute li’l toy cannon is actually made from the barrel of a REAL GUN! Please read his amusing and telling comments below, which shed some light on this toys former life on the streets, defending helpless women. And this is what the European ladies percussion muff pistol looked like when it was still intact and used as a deadly weapon, c.1840:

Photo courtesy of Sailor in Saddle

Teapot measures  7-1/2″ wide from handle to spout and stands 4-1/2″ high minus its original flower finial lid. Metal replacement spouts on teapots are one of the most common inventive repairs I encounter and I have dozens of examples ranging from crudely cut tin, to ornately chased silver.

I purchased this one a few months ago under the guise of the spout’s having a typical metal replacement, as I was interested in owning my first Worcester teapot. But as I unpacked, upon closer inspection I discovered that the replacement spout was actually a repurposed 19th century sterling silver thimble!

What an ingenious solution to saving two precious, much used household objects. It seems that the thimble, which must have been jabbed by a needle one too many times, and finally bearing a hole in the end, was crudely cut at an angle and cemented to the damaged end of the ceramic spout. With such a simple DIY solution, I am surprised I haven’t seen more repairs done in this manner. I can only imagine that had Hints from Heloise appeared in 19th century newspapers, there would be many more examples like this in existence today.

Another Worcester example with similar form and decoration shows what the lid and end of the spout would have looked like on my teapot.

Photo courtesy of Trocadero

The lone survivor of my maddening “Sophie’s Choice” moment

You can imagine how happy I was to have been recently contacted by dealer Polly Latham of Boston, MA, offering me a pair of Chinese Export sauce boats, each with identical replacement handles and decorated with an armorial coat of arms, no less. This pair, a part of a larger dinner service, was made for export to the English market at the end of the 18th century and bear the Arms of Maitland, 8th Earl of Lauderdale (1759-1839). Maitland, a noted statesman, politician and controversial social and political critic of his time, criticized the clergy, condemned slavery and was an ardent supporter of the French Revolution. The motto under the coat-of-arms, intricately painted in polychrome enamels with gilt highlights, translates to “Wisdom and Courage”.

I am pleased to proclaim that as long as I am the caretaker of this fine pair, they shall remain unseparated.

The replaced handles are made of forged brass, covered in woven rattan, and pinned to the end of the sauce boats with two metal rivets. The rattan covering is not only decorative but also used to insulate the metal handle from the hot contents.

Take a look at the rest of the large dinner service, all bearing the arms of Maitland, including a pair of identical sauce boats with original handles intact, located in the center of the middle shelf.

Photo courtesy of Polly Latham Antiques

This little gem, the smallest of the three, measures 3-1/2″ long and is 1-1/2″ tall. The tiny cast brass barrel, with its lovely green patina, is set in to the simple, yet effective, replacement base carved from a small block of wood, and held in place by two metal loops.

I particularly like the the three steps in the back and how the top of the wooden base was carved out in the exact shape of the cannon’s barrel so it would fit snugly in place. The dark greenish-brown painted surface remains mostly intact but shows some wear due, no doubt, to endless hours of battles played out in the safe confines of a patriotic young boy’s back yard. These toy cannons might have been manufactured in 1876, to help commemorate America’s centennial.

I will be posting the other two cannons from the same lot in the coming months, so be on the lookout. And please take a look at another small toy cannon, with a much cruder home-made repair, previously posted in these pages.

This toy cast iron ship’s signal cannon from the early 1800s shows what the original base on my cannon might have looked like.

Photo courtesy of Land and Sea Collection

I am not surprised that this fragile teapot did not remain unscathed over the past 84 years, as the low fired clay is susceptible to breakage. A large broken piece at the top of the pot has been reapplied, aided by three large metal staples, each measuring nearly 3/4″ long. To help camouflage this none-too-subtle repair, the staples were overpainted in matching tones, with only traces of color remaining. To add insult to injury, the top  portion of the handle, once broken off, has been riveted back on to the body. Tightly woven rattan envelopes the entire handle and the lower portion of the teapot, although I am not sure if this is was a later addition. Original or not, the basket-like embellishment adds another layer of quirkiness to this most desirable vessel.

The stamped mark on the bottom reads: Majolika, SMF (contained within a shield), Schramberg Handyemalt, 64.

Photo courtesy of Kulturprojekte Berlin

These are more examples of majolica designed by Eva Zeisel during her years in Schramberg, Germany

An early photograph of Eva Zeisel in her studio, c. 1930.

Photos courtesy of John Foster