This bone salad serving set, which measures 10.5 inches long, appears to have been made in France, c.1880. Long ago, one of the fork prongs broke off and was repaired by a silversmith, who added a wide band to help secure the break. As many antique bone salad servers were made with silver handles or embellishments, this silver repair seems appropriate.
Here’s a more upscale set of French salad servers with original ornate silver handles.
Photo courtesy of Catawiki
I bought this footed earthenware bulbous body jug at auction last year and although I didn’t know much about it, I knew it would be a great addition to my collection. Made from tin glazed redware pottery and decorated with flowers & scrollwork in white, blue, green, yellow, and rust glazes, it stands 8.75 inches high. I believe it was made in Rouen, France, c.1740-50.
Looks like this jug took a tumble quite a while ago. Rather than toss the jug out with the bathwater, it was brought to a handy metalsmith who fashioned an unusual metal spout/collar/ribbed handle combo. Although the appearance has been drastically altered by the metal addition, the jug is able to function again. I much prefer the look of this make-do jug over its “perfect” counterpart, but that’s just my opinion.
This jug with similar form suggests what the original handle and spout on my jug might have looked like.
Photo courtesy of WorthPoint
This colorful faience (tin-glazed) earthenware plate was made in north-eastern France in the early 1800s. The bold floral decoration is rendered in polychrome enamels, attributed to small pottery workshops in the town of Les Islettes in the Lorraine region. The plate measures 12 inches in diameter.
Earthenware is less durable than porcelain and stoneware so it is not uncommon to find tin-glazed plates from this period with early repairs. After the plate broke, a restorer reunited the two pieces by drilling small holes straight through the surface, lacing a small piece of sturdy wire through the holes, and twisting the ends together. Putty or a bonding cement was added to fill the gaps in the holes. Sometimes multiple strands of thin brass wire were used instead of one piece of heavier wire. Other popular types of repairs in the region include large staples and rivets, also found throughout the world.
My high school French teacher found this plate in Belgium about 6 years ago and knew I would give it a good home. Thanks Marianne for your keen eye!
Many examples of plates similar to mine are on view at the Seisaam Museum in north-east France.
Photo courtesy of Seisaam Museum
Every so often I find a piece that stumps me, stopping me dead in my tracks. This is one such example.
Although I have a few examples of finely turned wood bases, this one seems too slick and intentional to be a replacement. The glass itself is in perfect condition, with no indication of its base having been snapped off.
These goblets have their original bases.
Photo courtesy of eBay
This elegant Art Nouveau opaline glass bowl was made by Lalique in France, circa 1900. It is decorated with molded overlapping clam shells in the Coquilles No.2 pattern and measures 8.25 inches in diameter. “R. LALIQUE, FRANCE no. 3201” is etched on the underside.
Most people are amazed when they first encounter staple repairs on ceramics. When they see the same technique applied to glassware, they are stupefied. Click on this entry: Miniature cranberry glass punch cup, c.1890, to see one quarter inch staples holding together a tiny glass cup. It’s hard to imagine how this delicate work was done, let alone how the repairs have remained intact for over 100 years.
To commemorate the end of the French Revolution, post-revolutionaries planted trees to celebrate their freedom. This well-used earthenware faience patriotique plate with tin glaze was made in Nevers, France, in the late 1700s. It is made of red clay and decorated with polychrome enamels to emulate Chinese porcelain. The Liberty Tree depicted here reflects the patriotism of the French.
The underside of this plate reveals even more history, as over a dozen rusted iron staples still hold the damaged plate together after it was shattered more than 200 years ago. Plaster was used to fill the gaps that were left surrounding the tiny holes. To me, the unintentional overall pattern made by the staples on the underside are just as interesting as the design made by the artist on the front of the plate.
This hard paste porcelain baluster-form jug with sparrow beak spout was made in Paris, France, by Andre Leboeuf at the Fabrique de la Reine factory, circa 1778. It is hand decorated in the ‘Cornflower’ pattern, also known as ‘Angoulême’ or ‘aux Barbeaux’, a favorite of Marie Antoinette and Thomas Jefferson. It measures 4.75 inches high and is marked on the underside with the letter ‘A’ and a gilt crown. Work of this kind is known as Porcelaine à la Reine and Old Paris Porcelain.
Unlike obvious repairs, such as replacement handles, spouts and lids, this jug possesses a chip off the old block, or more precisely, a chip off an old pot. The lip must have been so badly damaged that a jeweler or china mender had to graft on a piece from another vessel. The replacement piece, unintentionally cut in the shape of the State of Nevada, was fitted to the enlarged hole in the jug, just like a jigsaw puzzle, using two small brass rivets along the rim. An adhesive compound was applied along the edges to seal the deal. Not the most elegant of repairs but this jug must have meant so much to its original owner that a delicate jug with a Nevada-shaped patch was better than no jug at all.
This jug shows what the missing cover and metal mount on my jug might have looked like before Napoleon smashed it to the floor.
Photo courtesy of Rouillac
This porcelain cream jug with baluster form and a sparrow beak spout was made in China during the Qianlong period (1736-96.) It is decorated in the Famille Rose palette and measures 4 inches high and is about 4 inches wide. The floral swag decoration suggests it was made for the French market.
I can just imagine a French maid in the early 1800s, clearing the breakfast table, grabbing this little jug with fingers still dripping with butter from making croissants, and letting it slip and tumble to the ground. Sadly, the cover and handle must have broken into too many pieces to repair, so a tinker was engaged and created a pewter replacement handle. Not sure if the shattered cover or the maid with shattered nerves were ever replaced.
This jug with similar form and decoration shows what the the original handle and cover on mine looked like before it took a tumble.
Photo courtesy of Andrew Dando
A simple yet remarkable home repair using just a small nail and short length of wire to replace a tiny toy dog’s missing leg. I find vintage toys with inventive repair rather poignant and I am always glad to see that someone bothered to repair the plaything, rather than discard it.
Dog measures just 2″ wide and 2” high and is incised “France” on belly with a paper label marked “46”.
Recently, a friend named the toy canine “Lucky”, but I think I am “lucky” to have adopted this stray dog with a most effective inventive repair!
