Posts Tagged ‘English’

Canary yellow mug with 46 staple repairs, c.1820

Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011

This canary yellow pottery mug with silver lustre bands and decoration was made in England in the early 19th century. I recently purchased it from a dealer in the UK who used the “tankard” as his pencil cup. He wrote me “(It) sits on my desk. Only dealers appreciate it! My customers think I am crazy”. I, of course, do not think he’s crazy and it’s too bad his customers did not appreciate it, nor see the beauty in the patterns made by the multiple repairs. It did take a little bit of convincing for the dealer to agree to sell it to me and after I told him “please consider how happy the mug will be living in America with other wounded survivors!”, we agreed on a fair price. I sent payment, the mug arrived 2 weeks later and it has become my new favorite piece!

Measures 3-1/2″ tall, 3-5/8″ diameter.

Every angle reveals more and more staples…

Comical poem printed on the front reads:

“The maltster doth crave

His money to have,

The distiller says have it he must;

By this you may see,

How the case stands with me;

So I pray don’t ask me to trust”

After this mug was smashed, the body was held together with the aid of 40 metal staples of varying size and the handle was repaired with 6 metal bands. It must have been truly cherished by whoever had it repaired.

I love the stylized sunbursts, enhanced by the addition of metal staples, on both sides of the mug.

Herculaneum coffee can, c.1815

Wednesday, February 16th, 2011

Herculaneum pottery coffee can, made in Liverpool, England in the early 1800s. Herculaneum Pottery was based in Toxteth, and produced creamware and pearlware pottery, as well as bone china porcelain, between 1793 and 1841. This superbly decorated example has delicately hand painted flowers, birds and butterflies with gilt detailing. Although unmarked, the original pattern number is believed to be 905. Coffee can measures just over 2-1/2″ high and has a diameter of 2-3/4″. The sturdy replacement handle, made of bronze and covered in tightly wrapped rattan painted with red detailing, is held in place with the aid of two wires which pass through the body of the mug. It was most likely made by an English china mender in the mid-1800s.


Copeland teapot with staple repair, c.1874

Thursday, February 10th, 2011

This lovely teapot, made in England during the Aesthetic Movement, has a Parian finish and was made by Copeland in 1874. The original pewter lid, which looks like a replacement, is actually original to the piece. I feel that the staple repairs on this teapot enhance the design, as they follow the same graceful line of the raised bent bamboo decoration and the staples mimic the horizontal nodes along the vertical cracks.

The Copeland firm, operated by William Taylor Copeland in Staffordshire, called the parian finish “statuary porcelain” because of its resemblance to the fine white marble of neoclassical sculpture.

There are four staple repairs on each side of the teapot.

The underside of the teapot reveals an incised COPELAND mark and British registry mark in relief, dating this piece to 1874.

This “perfect” teapot is without staple repairs and has an ornate pewter lid. I still prefer my “imperfect” example with visible battle scars proudly displayed.

Photo courtesy of Teapots Teapots Teapots

Child’s transferware cream jug, c.1840

Thursday, January 20th, 2011

This diminutive cream colored pearlware pottery cream jug was part of a larger child’s tea set and was made in England in the first part of the nineteenth century.

It is decorated with a black transfer pastoral scene, which may have been inspired by an engraving from the same period.

Cream jug measures 2-3/4″ high.

The other side is decorated with a church scene with what appears to be fallen tombstones.

The crudely made metal replacement handle has crimped edges and a flat strap at the top, with a wrapped wire band at the base.

Another early child’s creamer from the early 1800’s is shown with its handle intact.

Photo courtesy of WorthPoint

“The China-Mender” by Thomas Hood, c.1832

Wednesday, January 12th, 2011

This amusing poem, written by British poet and humorist Thomas Hood, Esq. (1799-1845), first appeared in The Royal Lady’s Magazine (their motto: “Our ambition is to raise the female mind of England to its true level”) London, January 1832.

Photo courtesy of The National Portrait Gallery, London

THE CHINA-MENDER

Good-Morning, Mr. What-d’ye-call! Well! here’s another pretty job!

Lord help my Lady!—what a smash!—if you had only heard her sob!

It was all through Mr. Lambert: but for certain he was winey,

To think for to go to sit down on a table full of Chiney.

“Deuce take your stupid head!” says my Lady to his very face;

But politeness, you know, is nothing when there’s Chiney in the case;

And if ever a woman was fond of Chiney to a passion,

It’s my mistress, and all sorts of it, whether new or old fashion.

Her brother’s a sea-captain, and brings her home shiploads—

Such bronzes, and such dragons, and nasty squatting things like toads;

And great nidnoddin’ mandarins, with palsies in the head:

I declare I’ve often dreamt of them, and had nightmares in my bed.

But the frightfuller they are—lawk! she loves them all the better,

She’d have Old Nick himself made of Chiney if they’d let her.

Lawk-a-mercy! break her Chiney, and it’s breaking her very heart;

If I touched it, she would very soon say, “Mary, we must part.”

To be sure she is unlucky: only Friday comes Master Randall,

And breaks a broken spout, and fresh chips a tea-cup handle:

He’s a dear, sweet little child, but he will so finger and touch,

And that’s why my Lady doesn’t take to children much.

Well, there’s stupid Mr. Lambert, with his two greatcoat flaps.

Must go and sit down on the Dresd’n shepherdesses’ laps,

As if there was no such things as rosewood chairs in the room!

I couldn’t have made a greater sweep with the handle of the broom.

Mercy on us! how my mistress began to rave and tear!

Well, after all, there’s nothing like good ironstone ware for wear.

If ever I marry, that’s flat, I’m sure it won’t be John Dockery—

I should be a wretched woman in a shop full of crockery.

I should never like to wipe it, though I love to be neat and tidy,

And afraid of meat on market-days every Monday and Friday

I’m very much mistook if Mr. Lambert’s will be a catch;

The breaking the Chiney will be the breaking-off of his own match.

Missis wouldn’t have an angel, if he was careless about Chiney;

She never forgives a chip, if it’s ever so small and tiny.

Lawk! I never saw a man in all my life in such a taking;

I could find it in my heart to pity him for all his mischief-making.

To see him stand a-hammering and stammering like a zany;

But what signifies apologies, if they won’t mend old Chaney!

If he sent her up whole crates full, from Wedgwood’s and Mr. Spode’s,

He couldn’t make amends for the crack’d mandarins and smash’d toads.

Well! every one has their tastes, but, for my part, my own self,

I’d rather have the figures on my poor dear grandmother’s old shelf

A nice pea-green poll-parrot, and two reapers with brown ears of corns,

And a shepherd with a crook after a lamb with two gilt horns,

And such a Jemmy Jessamy in top-boots and sky-blue vest,

And a frill and flower’d waistcoat, with a fine bow-pot at the breast.

God help her, poor old soul! I shall come into ‘em at her death;

Though she’s a hearty woman for her years, except her shortness of breath.

Well! you may think the things will mend—if they won’t, Lord mend us all!

My lady will go in fits, and Mr. Lambert won’t need to call;

I’ll be bound in any money, if I had a guinea to give,

He won’t sit down again on Chiney the longest day he has to live.

Poor soul! I only hope it won’t forbid his banns of marriage;

Or he’d better have sat behind on the spikes of my Lady’s carriage.

But you’ll join ‘em all of course, and stand poor Mr. Lambert’s friend,

I’ll look in twice a day, just to see, like, how they mend.

To be sure it is a sight that might draw tears from dogs and cats,

Here’s this pretty little pagoda, now, has lost four of its cocked hats.

Be particular with the pagoda: and then here’s this pretty bowl—

The Chinese Prince is making love to nothing because of this hole;

And here’s another Chinese man, with a face just like a doll,

Do stick his pigtail on again, and just mend his parasol.

But I needn’t tell you what to do, only do it out of hand,

And charge whatever you like to charge—my Lady won’t make a stand.

Well! good-morning, Mr. What-d’ye-call, for it’s time our gossip ended:

And you know the proverb, the less as is said, the sooner the Chiney’s mended.

Emergency Handle for Domestic Receptacles, c.1922

Wednesday, December 8th, 2010

I purchased this innocuous cup with “Pekin” transfer decoration in April 2008 and was intrigued by the removable metal handle, an apparent “do it yourself” replacement. Unlike most examples found in my collection, this was obviously not a handmade repair.

Due to heavy rust, the handle appeared to be unmarked and I was unable to proceed with executing any further research.

When I originally added the cup entry to this site in March 2010, I surmised that the handle “looks like something found at a local hardware store”.

Then in April of this year, two years after the discovery of the mysterious replacement handle, I purchased a copper lustre child’s mug with an identical metal handle, which I posted on July 6, 2010.

Luckily this handle was in excellent condition and clearly boasted a patent number.

Reino Liefkes, Senior Curator of the Ceramics & Glass Collection at the V&A Museum in London, recently discovered my blog and sent me the original patent specification and drawing for the “Emergency Handle For Domestic Receptacles”, patented in 1922 by inventor Frederick Warren Wilkes of Birmingham, UK. Upon further research, I found the American patent specification and drawing from 1923, pictured here.

Originally, a tiny rubber band was attached to the lower end of the handle to help cushion it against the delicate ceramic surface

Many thanks to Reino Liefkes for his most appreciated sleuthing!

English stoneware harvest jug, c.1850

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

A two-tone unsigned salt-glazed stoneware jug from England, possibly by Doulton Lambeth. The sprigged hunting scene & cupids decoration has a glass-like coating, achieved by adding salt to the kiln and firing at approx 1660 degrees F (780 degrees C). As the sodium chloride vaporizes and bonds with the silica in the clay, it creates a silicate glass “salt-glaze” finish

Jug stands 5-1/2″ tall and is 5-1/2″ wide

A detail of the applied sprig decoration to the front of the jug

Judging by the many chips along the rim, I am not surprised this jug lost its handle as well, as it was not doubt used daily for many years in an English pub

The tin handle with thumb grip and horizontal band replaces the original handle, created by a tinsmith in the middle to late 1800’s. Tin replacement handles are one of the most common types of inventive repairs and I have dozens of examples in my collection

This jug still has its original handle and gives an idea of what the handle on my mended piece would have originally looked like

Photo courtesy of WorthPoint

Leeds pepper pot, c.1830

Friday, November 19th, 2010

Provocatively profiled pearlware pottery pepper pot. This 4-3/4″ tall Leeds pepper shaker was made in the region of West Yorkshire, UK, known for quality pottery which once rivaled the wares of Wedgwood

With a cobalt blue 7-point star design on the top…

and a ribbed, feathered band around the middle

The original base has been replaced by a beautifully made tin replacement, painted to match the cream colored body, but now yellowed with age

A cork in the bottom allows this pot to hold and dispense the pepper once again

Another Leeds pepper pot with a more typical baluster form, maintains its original base

Photo courtesy of Prices4Antiques

Large copper lustre jug, c.1830

Wednesday, November 10th, 2010

A large copper lustre stout bodied baluster shaped jug from the Staffordshire region of England has a hidden inventive repair. Copper lustre decorated wares originated in the 9th century and were first made by Islamic potters. Inspired by these early pieces, English pottery houses Spode and Wedgwood developed their own techniques, starting at the beginning of the 19th century and continuing to around 1860. Silver lustre, once referred to as “poor man’s silver”, was another popular glaze created during this period and is highly prized today

Jug measures 6-1/4″ tall and is 8-1/2″ wide from spout to end of handle. The unusually wide blue band is curiously devoid of any decoration

The scrolled handle includes a small thumb rest at the top. A dramatic large gash reveals the red clay body beneath the glazed surface

Somehow the bottom of the jug broke or simply wore out. Today if this type of damage occurred, the piece would most likely be thrown out and replaced

A surprising glass patch covers the hole in the bottom, allowing the jug to hold liquids once again. An early form of putty was used to adhere and seal the glass piece to the bottom of the base

This copper lustre jug with a similar form and large blue band is overpainted with a more typical pink lustre decoration

Photo courtesy of Antiques Atlas

Staffordshire salt glaze teapot, c.1850

Tuesday, October 26th, 2010

A squat one cup bachelor’s teapot with raised Gothic Revival decoration on a pale blue paneled body, often mistaken for a piece from a child’s tea set. This salt glazed pottery teapot was made in the Staffordshire region of England in the mid 1800’s

Teapot stands 3-1/4″ tall and has the same scrolled decoration on each panel

When the original lid became lost or broken, a metalsmith made a simple replacement metal lid of tin with a delicately turned pewter knob