This globular form porcelain teapot has flipped its lid. It was made in Bristol, England in the third quarter of the eighteenth century and stands 4.5 inches high. It is decorated with pink, green, yellow, and orange flowers and has a pseudo-Meissen blue crossed swords mark on the underside.
In addition to its missing lid, the original handle was replaced over 150 years ago with an ear shaped metal replacement with thumb rest. If only the tinker who made the replacement handle fashioned a replacement lid as well, I’d have a double make-do.
This example suggests what the original handle and lid might have looked like on my teapot.
This baluster form earthenware faience covered jug with a pewter lid was made in Germany at the end of the 18th century. It has tin glaze floral decoration with blue, pink, and green enamels over a white ground and measures 8.25 inches high.
Well over 150 years ago, the jug must have dropped, resulting in a broken handle and a large missing chunk along the rim. Luckily for me and all others who like early repairs, the broken vessel was brought to a metalsmith who created a stunted but functional pewter replacement handle, along with a lead patch to fill in the chip. Although most pieces like this are unsigned, the number 80 is written in pencil on the underside, as well as an incised scribble I can’t decipher.
This jug with similar form suggests what the original loop handle on my jug would have looked like.
This small cylindrical porcelain mug is decorated with polychrome enamels in the Famille Rose palette with floral sprays and a lattice and scroll border at top and bottom. It was made in China for export during the latter part of the Qianlong period (1736–1795) and stands 4.25 inches high.
After the original handle broke off, it was most likely taken to a tinker who fashioned this sturdy metal replacement handle with 2 support straps. Judging by the numerous chips and cracks in the body, this little mug has survived quite a bit of abuse. I’m glad it wasn’t thrown away long ago for not being perfect.
This mug with similar form and decoration suggests what the handle on my intact mug might have looked like before it took a tumble.
This black basalt (aka Egyptian black or shining black ) stoneware low form collared teapot was make in England in the early 1800s. It has elegant engine turned banding decoration and measures 3.5 inches high, 9.5 inches from handle to spout.
Early in its life, the original handle broke off and was replaced with a metal “tinker” replacement. I like how it has taken on a dark patina over the past 150+ years, nearly matching the dark glaze of the teapot. The lid also took a tumble at a later time and was glued back together, suggesting that the break/repair was done more recently. I wish staples/rivets were used to repair it but that’s a bit selfish of me, I know.
This teapot with similar form and decoration suggests what the original handle on my teapot might have looked like.
This minuscule pearlware pottery Dutch shape cream jug was made in the UK in the first half of the 1800s. It is hand decorated with brown sprigs on a tan ground and stands just 2 inches high. Due to its small size, I believe it to be part of a child’s tea set.
Many years ago, I imagine an eager child poured the pretend cream too aggressively, resulting in a broken handle. Amazingly the broken jug wasn’t discarded, and instead was resurrected nearly 100 years later, thanks to snapping on an Emergency Handle for Domestic Receptacles (EHFDR.) I have more of these nifty do-it-yourself replacement handles, patented in the early 1920s, in my collection and have long admired this unique, though not quite successful, invention: Copper & pink luster child’s mug, c.1820, Mini Sunderland jug with EHFDR, c.1850. I am excited to report that Emergency Handle for Domestic Receptacles, c.1922 was acquired by the V&A and is now in their permanent ceramics collection.
This large jug with similar form suggests what the original handle on my tiny jug might have looked like.
This cylindrical porcelain mug was made in China for export during the Qianlong Period (1736-1795.) It is painted in the Famille Rose palette, has front circle decoration with a small face, and measures 5.25 inches high.
Well over 150 years ago, a bronze replacement handle with wrapped rattan replaced the original broken entwined strap handle. In addition to the tiny face decoration, I particularly like the elaborate and large floral terminals and glad they remain intact.
This child’s pearlware pottery sauce boat with pedestal foot was made in England in the late 1700s. It has cobalt blue hand-decoration in the Pagoda with Fence (aka Chinese House) pattern and measures 2.5 inches high, 4.25 inches wide from handle to spout. The metal replacement handle and support straps were most likely added by a tinker, well over 150 years ago, to replace a broken handle.
It is not unusual to find children’s pieces with early repairs, as you can imagine how many tiny hands have dropped their prized pottery playthings. Actually, it’s amazing how many fragile ceramic toys have survived intact. I have dozens of examples of miniatures in my collection and I would be happy just collecting these small examples of inventive repairs.
This example suggests what the original handle on my miniature sauce boat might have looked like before the handle broke off.
This unglazed Parian porcelain cream jug measures 3.5 inches high and is decorated with a molded relief design of water nymphs. Although I believe it was made in the mid-1800s, it has a later Art Nouveau feel to it. It is marked on the underside with the incised number 463.
There’s no doubt this is a lovey little jug, but it would be nothing without its ornate replacement handle, added after the original broke off. Typically I find small jugs such as this with simple metal tinker-make handles, so I was surprised to see such a fancy replacement. I appreciate the ingenuity of the repairer for attaching the top part of the new handle over the remains of the broken original and adding a band around the base, rather than drilling though the jug. Even though the original handle was much smaller than the replacement (see last photo), I much prefer the juxtaposition of the two material mashed up together on my unique jug.
Here’s an example of the jug with its original handle intact.
I spotted this diminutive pear-shaped sparrow beak cream jug in an antiques shop in Dublin, Ireland in 2015. It is decorated with the Pagoda and Trees pattern, hand rendered in cobalt blue underglaze. A delicate lattice border embellishes the inside rim. Made in England by the Lowestoft factory around 1775-1785, the jug stands 3 inches high and has an incised number 4 on the underside.
After the original handle broke off over 200 years ago, a tinker made a metal replacement supported with horizontal and vertical straps, much like an iron girdle. Although the small but mighty jug is in poor condition, I felt compelled to rescue it and bring it back to America, where it now lives among friends with similar battle scars.
This jug with similar form and decoration shows what the original handle on mine might have looked like.
This globular teapot with puce floral enamel decoration and orange bands was made in China in the middle to late 1700s. It measures 5.5 inches high, 7.5 inches from handle to spout. At some point in its early life, the handle broke off and a bronze replacement, with the remains of rattan wrapping, was attached. Most teapots I find have one form or another of metal handle protection to help insulate delicate hands from the hot contents. Many examples in my collection have intricately woven patterns using more than one color of rattan, and I imagine the customer would have been charged more for these finer artistic flourishes.
This teapot with similar form and decoration suggests what the original handle on my teapot might have looked like.
Antiques with inventive repairs (also known as "make-do" repairs) are unique examples of necessity and thrift, made during a time before Krazy Glue was invented. Unlike today where we discard anything chipped or cracked, broken household items were repaired at home or taken to a metalsmith to be brought back to life, often with whimsical results. Once regarded merely as damaged goods by antiques dealers and collectors alike, antiques with inventive repairs are justly receiving the respect they deserve.
ABOUT ANDREW BASEMAN:
I am a film set decorator, author, and interior designer, with a passion for antiques and collecting. Please visit my website to see examples of my work:
