Seashells by the Seashore

QUESTION: Ever since I was a child playing in the sand at the seashore, I’ve loved seashells. I started collecting them and eventually began making shell crafts with them. I’ve seen antique shell-covered boxes at antique shows. How old are these boxes? And why are they decorated with shells?

ANSWER:  When you pick up a pretty shell on the beach or purchase a shell souvenir from a seaside gift shop, you’re following a tradition that goes back as far as the 16th century. A homemade sewing box decorated with shells gathered during an outing at the seashore evokes memories of a wonderful vacation.

Shells from the Far East were rare and expensive collectors' items as far back as the late 1590s. Archduke Ferdinand II devoted four rooms of his castle near Innsbruck, Austria, to shells, fossils, amber and mounted branches of coral. Soon, all over Europe, it was the fashion to decorate rooms with both common and exotic shells.

With the exploration of the Pacific and Indian Oceans and the expansion of European trade, interest in sea shells as decorative items grew even stronger in the 17th century. Merchants imported large quantities of exotic shells into Europe, and shell collecting became a serious hobby. 

In the early 18th century shellwork became a popular pastime for upper-class women. They practiced all sorts of shellcraft, including making shell plaques and pictures. To help Georgian ladies with their shellwork, Mrs. Hannah Robertson published The Ladies School of Arts in 1806. In it she described various techniques of shellwork. When Victoria became Queen in 1837, the study of shells and their inhabitants became a popular subject in school. Teachers encouraged their students to take walks along  the seashore to study marine life which led to an increased interest in shell collecting and shellwork.

Ladies covered glove boxes, trinket boxes, work boxes, and musical boxes with shells. They used heavy pasteboard to construct the boxes, using patterns they found in books on shellcraft. Once they had the parts cut out, they lined them with absorbent cotton and covered them with velvet or silk, then they sewed the sides together with strong thread. They then pasted muslin over the seams and fastened the lids with strips of muslin attached with strong glue. The box makers then made a cushion which they attached  the top of the box with a glue and proceeded to cover it with shells. Those who didn’t want to make their own boxes could buy plain ones onto which they could attach their shells.

Many of the Victorian boxes contained mirrors inside the lid and had heart-shaped pincushions attached. Ladies often gave them as gifts and pasted sayings such as "Forget-me-not" and "To My Dear Mother." Some Victorian women glued on paper scraps and pictures cut out from magazines to enhance their designs.
   
To obtain shells for their projects, some ladies would gather them on trips to the seashore. Those who lived too far away from the sea could obtain them from sailors or purchase them from shell dealers.

After women gathered their shells, they soaked them in fresh water for a few hours. Some shells naturally possessed a fine polish and required no preparation for display. In many cases, however, when shells became dry, they lost their natural luster, which women restored by washing them with clear water into which a little glue had been dissolved. The most popular shell, the periwinkle, which lined almost every box, had to be specially treated. The natural, grayish outer scale had to be removed with acetic acid to reveal the pearly iridescence underneath.



After cleaning their shells, women had to sort them according to size and color. It was important to have large quantities of tiny "rice shells," and other small shells in order to fill in spaces. Ladies then laid out their shells to form a design. Roses and hearts were popular in the center of a design. Once they had their designs finalized, women dipped the ends of their shells in a mixture of white wax and glue which adhered them to the cotton batting or paper.

Shell work declined in popularity toward the end of the 19th century though it has never faded as a home pastime.

 To read more articles on antiques, please visit my Web site.  And to stay up to the minute on antiques and collectibles, please join the other 18,000 readers by following my free online magazine, #TheAntiquesAlmanac. Learn more about the Victorians in the Winter 2018 Edition, "All Things Victorian," coming this week.

Mother Nature’s Gift to Glass

QUESTION: My mother loved decorative glassware. She died recently and left me her collection. While some pieces are older, most date from the 1950s and 1960s. I particularly like several vases that look like flowers. Do you know what they are called and tell me a little about their history?

ANSWER: Back in the 1950s and 1960s, many women collected decorative glassware. Most of the pieces came from Fenton Glassware, but several other manufacturers also made a wide assortment of vases, candy and butter dishes, ashtrays, and the like. Many of these feature hobnail decoration. The vases you’re asking about are known as Jack-in-the-Pulpit vases.

To glass lovers the name "Jack-in-the-Pulpit" has become synonymous with glass vases styled to imitate a wild flower. This flower is native to some parts of the United States, but this style of glassware originated in England, where no jack-in-the-pulpit flowers don’t grow. Most likely, this design came from the adaptation of a similar wildflower found in England known as Lords and Ladies.

Like the flower, a glass Jack-in-the-Pulpit vase consists of three parts, a base, a stem and the trumpet. The trumpet is the large flared top which gives the piece its style, much like the trumpet forms the flower on the plant. The stem connects that trumpet to the base, much like the stem connects the flower to its root. Trumpets vary in style, from flared, rounded trumpets, to those with pinched and twisted points in the front and the back. Some trumpets, particularly those by Fenton, have a raised back and dip downward in the front.

Some collectors believe Louis C. Tiffany created the first Jack-in-the-Pulpit vase around 1900. But that isn’t the case. The first known Jack-in-the-Pulpit vase appeared in 1854, a good 40 years before Tiffany’s vases. The style of the early English Jack-in-the-Pulpit vase even more closely resembles the flower. However, English glassmakers at the turn of the century didn’t name their pieces, unlike their American counterparts. Instead, they just gave them a pattern number.

English Jack-in-the-Pulpit vases came from a number of makers, including Thomas Webb & Sons, Richardson's, Webb-Corbett and Stuart, plus many small companies. Some smaller firms subcontracted work out to finishers, so it's possible that one firm decorated the blanks of another. British glassmakers did, however, blow most of their Jack-in-the-Pulpits.

Prices for British Jack-in the-Pulpit vases range from $75 for a piece which can’t be attributed to any particular manufacturer to several thousand dollars for a rare Webb or Stevens & Williams piece. Rare pieces can command $2,000 to $3,000. On average, British pieces go for about $175.

While decoration doesn't seem to have a effect on the price of unattributed British pieces, it does effect the prices of the higher-end ones. Size and the decorations, such as applied glass chainwork, vary. Companies produced vases in opalescent patterns such as spiral optic and   cranberry, and some come in the various colors like Beaded Melon.

Fenton’s Burmese vases are particularly popular with collectors. The company also made decorated Jack-in-the-Pulpits in other types of glass. Fenton decorated white and off-white, called cameo satin, blanks with scenes sell for around $75.

Other noteworthy American producers include Northwood/Dugan, Imperial, Westmoreland, Mount Washington and L.G. Wright. Northwood made jacks in various colors in Carnival glass, a short marigold version being the most common. But Northwood and Dugan also made them in opalescent glass. These generally sell for under $100 apiece.

Tile It

QUESTION: In the last few years, I’ve begun to buy decorative tiles from the early 20th century. I buy what I like and not because a particular company made them. One I purchased recently supposedly came from the Moravian Tile Works in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. Since I live in the Midwest, I haven’t had an opportunity to visit the Tile Works. What can you tell me about this tile?

ANSWER:  Go to any Arts and Crafts auction and you're sure to find art tiles, ranging from $20 to several thousand dollars. But what makes one tile worth more than another? And what makes these late 19th/early 20th century tiles any different from the ones we see today at our local home renovation store?

Combine the rise of the Aesthetic Movement, the desire to get back to basics, and a variety of unique techniques, and tiles can represent some of the most interesting objects made during the heyday of the Arts & Crafts Movement." It’s these "art" tiles that are of real interest to collectors, and these are the tiles that command the highest prices. Commercial production tiles, while they're old, even when made by a well-collected maker, are usually only valued in the $20-$30 range.

Although a large number of American potteries made tiles, six are most popular with collectors and/or the most historically significant---American Encaustic, J.G.Low, Grueby, Rookwood, Batchelder, and the Moravian Pottery and Tile Works.

Henry Chapman Mercer, an archeologist and antiquities collector, founded the Moravian Tile Works in 1898. His intent was to bring back the medieval craft of tile making and established the Moravian Pottery and Tile Works on his family's estate in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. Mercer chose the name Moravian to represent the German immigrants who brought tile making to Pennsylvania in the 18th century.

Although Mercer designed all the tiles, using patterns derived from European an Middle Eastern ones, as well as photographs of ones from Mexico, he trained a crew of men to produce them by pressing wet local clay into handcarved molds. Workers slow fired these molds in a wood burning kiln, painted the bisque ware with glaze, and fired them again.

Mercer gained a reputation as a serious proponent of the Arts & Crafts Movement. Many of America's top tile makers, including Grueby and  Batchelder, copied his tile designs. Mercer also produced several lines of four-inch molded tiles representing tall ships, zodiac signs, and farming. He also used them to build items like inkwells and bookends. For more elaborate installations, Mercer produced cookie-cutter-shaped paving tiles referred to as “brocades.”

Mercer remained active with the company until his death in 1930. The company remained in business until 1964, and in 1969, it opened as a museum.

The reproduction tiles made today come from Mercer's original molds, locally dug clay, and have properties similar to those of Mercer's slips and glazes that follow his final formulations, although some have been modified to reduce the lead and heavy metal content to less toxic levels. The manufacturer of reproduction tiles began in 1974, but there’s no danger of deceit. When the Bucks County, Pennsylvania, Department of Parks and Recreation took over the Tile Works as a working museum, they insisted that all the tiles made at the museum bear the mark of a stylized "MOR," the words "Bucks County," and the year of manufacture.

Today, collectors can expect to pay from $30-100 for common tiles, $35-250 for brocades, $300-3,000 for “built items” made from tiles, and $1,000-5,000 for the more unique medieval-style tiles.

You can find some of the largest collections of Mercer tiles at John D. Rockefeller's New York estate, Grauman's Chinese Theater, and the Casino at Monte Carlo. Your tile represents "Virgo," a sign of the zodiac.

Beauty Is in the Eyes of the Beholder

QUESTION: Recently, I purchased a pressed glass plate that seems to be painted red and gold on one side. The paint is in pretty good condition, although some of it has flaked off. Did someone purposely paint this plate. I don’t want to scrape off the remaining paint until I know for sure. What can you tell me about this plate? And was the paint applied at the time of its manufacture?

ANSWER: As the old saying goes, “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.” You bought the plate because you liked it, but the paint on it does make it look like someone was doing a bit of their own decorating. Fortunately for you, you asked about it before scraping away the paint. Your plate is what’s known as “Goofus” Glass. Sounds goofy, doesn’t it. In fact, some people call it tacky, some call it ordinary, and, yes, some call it beautiful.

Manufacturers didn’t originally call it "Goofus" glass. They had no designation of Goofus glass in their  salesmen's catalogs. They didn’t even recognize it as a specific classification of glass. Goofus glass, at its inception, was just a variety of pressed glass.

The term "Goofus" refers more to the use of unfired “cold” painted decoration to a piece of pressed glass, rather than to the glass itself. Many people believe the first users of Goofus noticed how easily the painted decoration on this glass wore away and felt that it was "goofy" or that someone had tried to "goof us."

Pressed, or pattern glass was, by the end of the 19th century, a substitute cut glass by the middle class. So the demand for pressed glass rose tremendously. To keep up with the demand, a number of new factories appeared, mostly in Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia, and Indiana due to the availability of natural gas to fire their furnaces. The most prominent of these was the Northwood Glass Company, founded in 1887 in Martin's Ferry, Ohio.

One of Northwood’s original owners, Harry Northwood, later founded his own company, H. Northwood and Company in Wheeling, West Virginia in 1901. Within five years, his company had developed a reputation as America's finest glassware manufacturer.

Always innovative, Harry Northwood was probably the first to make what has come to be known as Goofus glass and, a few years later in 1908, Carnival glass.

Other companies, such as The Imperial Glass Co. of Bellaire, Ohio, focused immediately on Goofus glass. Soon others joined them, including the Crescent Glass Co. of Wellsburg, West Virginia, Lancaster Glass Company in Lancaster, Ohio, Westmoreland Glass of Grapeville, Pennsylvania, Dugan Glass Company. of Indiana, Pennsylvania,; McKee Glass Company of Jeannette, Pennsylvania, and Indiana Glass Company of Dunkirk, Indiana, which produced more Goofus glass than any other manufacturer.

Somewhere along the line, the idea to paint pressed glassware with bright colors— usually red, but sometimes green, pink, brown, orange, silver, and always some gold—gained popularity with the buying public, who scooped it up in large quantities. This popularity glass peaked between 1908 and 1918.

Manufacturers marketed Goofus glass with names evoking faraway exotic places and   wealth. Some of these included Egyptian Intaglio, Egyptian Art, Khedive (meaning "viceroys of Egypt"), Golden Oriental, Artistic Decorated, and Intaglio Art.

Because it was mass-produced and relatively cheap, retail shop owners bought it to give as a premium for buying their goods. Goofus glass was given away by every sort of business—furniture stores, car dealers, even at WW1 Bond drives. A person could buy a house and get a complete set of dishes. Or buy a new suit and get an intaglio fruit bowl. Or buy an engagement ring and get a vase or a set of dishes. Fair owners even awarded it as prizes for winning games. It was the first Carnival glass, preceding the iridized glass known as Carnival glass today.

Glass companies produced plates, bowls, vases, oil lamps, dresser sets, salt and pepper shakers and candle holders. Many of the Goofus patterns feature flowers and fruit, especially grapes, among other motifs, raised out of the surrounding glass as seen in vases, powder boxes and lamps. The pattern could also be pressed into the glass from beneath the surface providing an intaglio effect as found in Goofus plates, baskets and candy dishes.

Because of the extensive use of red, green, and gold paint, Goofus glass became known as “Mexican ware” because the colors reminded buyers of the colors in the Mexican flag.

Workers decorated the glass in one of two ways: They either covered one side or the other of the piece completely with paint, known as “All Over Decoration” or “AOD,” or they painted just the distinguishing pattern on the glass, leaving the remainder of the glass  untouched, known as "Pattern Decorated" or "PD." The more frequently seen surface textures are various "basket weave,” "fish net," and "stippled."  

By the beginning of the Great Depression, Goofus glass production had come to an end.

It’s difficult to find a piece of Goofus glass in perfect condition whether the paint was applied to the outside or the inside of a piece. The worn paint became so unsightly it was washed away by the original or subsequent owners.

Collectors pay more to own pieces made for special occasions or to commemorate a World’s Fair or another event than other nondescript pieces. They also look for complete sets such as a large berry bowl with matching smaller bowls. Goofus collectors seek out rare oil lamps complete with glass shade and matching base. Of course, Goofus glass in all shapes and forms in great condition with very little paint wear will bring a much better price than a piece with considerable paint loss.

Keepsakes, Not Throwaways

QUESTION: Sometime ago I purchased a box of colorful decorative holiday cutouts and imprints. Many of the designs feature St. Nicholas and have a definite British Victorian look to them. What were these called and what were they used for? 

ANSWER: Believe it or not, the cutouts you purchased are known as scraps. While the word “scraps” has now come to mean parts that are left over, such as scraps of wood, fabric, and paper, back in the 19th century it meant something quite different.

The Victorians loved decoration—the more the better. They also were very romantic and loved sentimentality and keepsakes. This led to a phenomenon popularly known as scraps.

Also called die cuts or chromos, scraps were small, colorful, embossed paper images that were sold in sheets by stationers and booksellers and used in various decorative, entertainment, and educational applications. Their diverse subject matter included flowers, trees, fruits, birds, animals, pets, ladies and gents, children, historical people and events, angels, transportation themes, and occupational motifs.

People pasted them into albums and used them to make greeting cards and decorated boxes. They also pasted them on folding screens and pieces of furniture. Scraps served as extra learning materials to teach young children the alphabet, counting, natural history, and geography, as well as teaching tools for learning prayers and Bible stories and in the enjoyment of nursery rhymes and fairy tales.

The first scraps originated in German bakers' shops as decoration for biscuits and cakes and for fastening on wrapped sweets. The earliest ones were printed in uncut sheets in black and white, then hand colored. Scraps appeared in Britain in the 1850s and soon became popular as decorative additions to Christmas cards. They were also used to illustrate historical as well as events of the time.

By the mid-1800's, chromolithography had been invented. This made a wide variety of  colored scraps available to an ever-increasing market. But chromolithography required a lengthy process. Each color had to be applied separately and needed to dry before the next color could be applied. However, the process made up to 20 printed colors possible. Printers made Victorian and Edwardian scraps in sheets that contained small chromolithographs designed to be cut out in the same manner as the first penny postage stamps. After printing and before embossing, they coated the sheets with a gelatin and gum layer that resulted in a glossy appearance and helped the paper stretch without cracking the print. Steel cutters, powered by foot treadles, punched out excess paper and left clean, sharp edges. Thin paper sheets, imprinted with manufacturers’ trademarks and called "ladders," held the cut sheets together.

The elaborate use of stamping can often be seen in uncut scrap sheets. Optimum use of space, required minimal cutting and lead to the intricate and ingenious design of the cutting die.

Early in the 20th century, young ladies and children of the middle and upper classes began keeping scrapbooks that contained collections of commercially produced scraps. They organized them thematically with a single subject for the entire book or with several themes arranged by section. Sometimes, they added lines of poetry, personal notations, inscriptions by family and friends, and drawings.

Stationery stores sold scrapbooks with tooled leather covers, elaborately embossed bindings, engraved clasps, and brass locks. Some scrapbooks contained printed decorations on their pages, as well as centered oval, circular or square sections into which people could paste items. Other albums held printed pages with theme-setting embossed decoration-like flowers or birds. Many scraps keepers made their own albums by pasting scraps over catalog and magazine pages.

Scraps production continued through the 1920's, but changes in popular taste, the effects of World War I, and the economic limitations of the Great Depression all contributed to their decline. Over time, newspaper and magazine pictures supplanted scraps as the "cutouts" of choice.

Today, sheets of uncut Victorian scraps and single scraps of good design, color, and condition are prized by ephemera collectors. Die cuts by celebrated manufacturers like Raphael Tuck and Sons, which produced a series of scraps to commemorate Queen Victoria's 50th jubilee in 1887, are especially prized by collectors. Values vary from $5 for common scraps up to $50 for unusual and sought-after images.

Cottage Charm

QUESTION: I have a cabinet that seems to be handmade. One of its drawers has three compartments side by side and one in the back for silverware. The other drawer doesn’t have compartments but does have slots cut into it as if there were slats at one time. There are three shelves in the base of the cabinet. What I am curious about is the fact that the top slants to the back. At first I thought it was the way it was sitting, but after moving it several times I noticed that it’s made that way. The top narrows slightly at the sides from front to back. I have never come across anything like this and was wondering if there was a reason behind the slanting or if someone just had poor craftsmanship! I appreciate any information you can offer.

ANSWER: What you have is a Victorian sideboard. This style is known as Cottage Victorian. Sideboards had been around since the 16th century. They were made to serve food and hold table linens, serving pieces, and flatware. In smaller Victorian cottages, there wasn’t a lot of room. Many didn’t have a formal dining room, but just a dining area in the parlor. So that’s why your sideboard is smaller than normal. Usually, the makers of these pieces painted them in bright colors, often adding  colorful floral decorations. While your sideboard could have been homemade, I doubt it. It may have been altered, however, to stand straight on a slightly slanted floor, thus the slanted top. Unfortunately, the hardware on your sideboard isn’t original. Most of the time, Cottage Victorian furniture had simple wooden knobs and handles.

Cottage furniture became popular in the United States, particularly along the East Coast, after the Civil War. Pieces began appearing in workshops and then homes of the wealthy in places like Martha's Vineyard, Cape May, and the Berkshires. But the popularity of these items didn’t  remain exclusively with the upper class. As the middle class grew, equally elegant, but relatively reasonably priced versions began to appear in the homes of the nation’s growing work force, particularly in Pennsylvania and New England.

Homeowners purchased Victorian Cottage furniture in mostly bedroom "suites", sold as  coordinating groupings consisting of a double bed, a washstand, a dresser or vanity with an attached mirror, a small table, a straight chair and a rocker, and often a wardrobe. Cabinetmakers used pine or other inexpensive wood, then painted the entire piece with  several layers of paint. The finished sets were colorful and whimsical.

Cottage Victorian beds have high and lavishly decorated headboards. Finials and medallions constituted what little carving there was on most pieces. Most of the decoration took the form of painted flowers, fruit, and other plants, featuring a large painted bouquet-like medallion in a central panel on the headboard and a smaller, matching one on the foot-board. Local cabinetmakers, most of whom didn’t have any formal training, built these pieces from designs in pattern books. And since they had no formal art training, the decorative elements they applied to their pieces had a primitive, folk art feel to them. A few featured highly detailed and beautifully executed scenes of sailing ships or local wildlife. They painted all the pieces of a furniture suite with the same motif. The most popular base colors were tan, blues, greens, and pinks. A few rare ones use the varnished natural wood as the background onto which the cabinetmaker applied the decorative designs.

An artisan then painted it with a base of soft yellow, and highlighted this coat with green bordering, and rows of flowers, and spandrel fan designs in the corners, giving it vigor. Although such a piece was commonplace once, it’s rare and valuable today. One of the biggest misconceptions regarding antiques is that 19th-century homeowners loved the appearance of natural woods in their furnishings. That preference didn’t appear until the early 20th century. As a result, most painted furniture has been stripped and finished to the often not so beautiful bare wood by well-meaning dealers and collectors. Although cabinetmakers refrained from painting their costly mahogany and walnut pieces, those in small towns and villages paint-decorated nearly all their birch, maple, oak, pine, and poplar furnishings to brighten their customers’ dark, oil-lamp lit homes.

Cabinetmakers fitted drawers and cabinet doors with wooden knobs instead of metal hardware. Even the boldly colored paint, didn’t have the look of value to it. Those pieces of Victorian Cottage furniture that have survived intact usually have a crackled surface from age-shrinkage, with flakes in spots due from dryness. Also, look for signs of wear on edges, tops, and near the knobs.

To the untrained eye, Victorian Cottage furniture looks as if it should be sold as junk or stripped to the bare wood. Whatever you do, don't strip your sideboard. If possible, get an opinion from someone who knows painted furniture.

When purchasing painted Cottage Victorian furniture, look for a bone dry surface, subtle wear, and age crazing that has shrunk geometrically. Fortunately, those who fake antiques haven't figured out a way to create spider-web-like lines with chemicals. Good painted furniture has charm and an integrity that makes it one of today's best antique investments since painted pieces haven’t been reproduced. .

A Sign of Welcome

QUESTION: At a number of Americana antique shows I’ve attended, I’ve seen pineapples used as decoration, especially on pieces of furniture from the 18th century. Can you tell me why cabinetmakers used them so much?

ANSWER: Pineapples have long been associated with Southern hospitality. Many people associate pineapples with Colonial Williamsburg. Perhaps that’s because it began decorating with them in the 1930s. But the idea didn’t start there.

Christopher Columbus discovered pineapples in 1493 on the Caribbean island of Guadeloupe. Since the fresh sweet fruit wasn’t available back home, his crew looked on it with awe and wonder. In Renaissance Europe, fresh fruit was seldom available. Common sweets were also rare. Sugar derived from cane was expensive and had to be imported from the Middle East and Asia.

In the West Indies, however, pineapples were a plentiful native fruit. So much so that the locals used it to both warn away intruders and welcome guests. They planted barriers of pineapple around their village because they believed their sharp, spiky leaves deterred unwelcome visitors. But they also hung the fruit on their gates as a symbol of hospitality and abundance.

Columbus and his men brought these sweet, succulent fruits back to Europe where they became instantly popular. But not everyone embraced the spiky fruit. When Charles V, King of Spain and Holy Roman Emperor had an early opportunity to taste the pineapple, he refused, fearing that it might poison him.

In 1657, Captain Richard Ligon published A True and Exact Story of Barbados, an account of his travels from London to the West Indies. In his journal, he devoted entire pages to the pineapple.

Diaries of the time often recorded gifts of pineapples presented to the king, and late 17th century ship manifests listed pineapples making their way from Barbados and Bermuda to England.

European gardeners perfected a hothouse method for growing pineapples, and in 1675, John Rose presented King Charles II of England with the first pineapple grown in England. The king later posed for an official portrait of him receiving the pineapple as a gift. The act was symbolic of royal privilege.

During the 18th century in England, greenhouse gardening became a popular hobby for the nobility, who coveted pineapples. The fruits often served double duty at dinner parties, first as an elaborate table decoration, and then as dessert.

The Spanish were probably the first to adopt the pineapple as a symbol of hospitality, carving pineapple designs into much of their woodwork: The custom soon spread throughout Europe, where it became fashionable to incorporate pineapple motifs into furnishings. Eventually, cabinetmakers adorned tall case clocks with pineapple finials. This custom continued into the early 20th century.

Sea captains, who sailed to the Caribbean Islands and returned to the New England Colonies with cargoes of fruit, spices and rum, first introduced the pineapple as a symbol of hospitality in America. Upon their return, the captains would spear a pineapple on the fence post outside their home, where it would serve as an invitation for friends to visit and share their food, drink, and tales of adventure.

Before long, American innkeepers adopted the pineapple as a means of welcoming guests. Inns would feature pineapple motifs on their signs and advertising literature, while pineapple-related items within their establishment included carvings on bedposts, vanities and dressers along with furniture, brasses, doorknobs, lamps and candleholders.

American architects also embraced the pineapple. Early estates and public buildings often have carved wooden or stone pineapple gate posts and copper or brass pineapple weather vanes. One such example is the home of Virginia's William Byrd. In 1730, Byrd ordered a carved door surround from London for his Westover plantation mansion on the James River. The door featured a broken-scroll pediment with a pineapple in the center.

The pineapple continued to find its way into home decor. Carpets, draperies, napkins and tablecloths often had pineapple designs woven into them. And women stitched pineapples into their quilts and needlework.

9 Ways to Help Identify Antique Furniture

QUESTION: Some friends of my mom’s gave me what looks like a Chippendale desk. They didn’t know anything about it, so I’ve had to do some research on my own. The only problem is that I can’t seem to find out much about it. Can you please help me out?

ANSWER: Not only will I try to tell you something about your desk, I’d like to give you and others some tips on what to look for when trying to identify antique furniture.

First and foremost, you need to determine if the piece you have is really an authentic antique or whether it’s a reproduction, a revival piece, a fake, or just a piece of junk. The key to the history of valuable antiques is whether they have a provenance—a history of ownership. This document lists the maker, all the owners to the present, and whether any repairs have been done to it. If you were spending five or six figures for a piece of furniture, you certainly would want to know everything you can about it.

But what about everyday pieces that don’t come with a provenance. Identifying them is a bit more difficult. Follow these steps and you should be able to determine quite a bit about any older piece of furniture that you have.

1. Determine the style. Using photographs in antiques books and photos online, try to determine the style of your piece. Certain styles, such as Chippendale, have telltale features, such as ball-and-claw feet, that help to identify them.

2. If it’s not authentic, determine if your piece is a revival or a reproduction. The difference between a revival and a reproduction is quite simple. The first is stylized version of the original style. So Colonial Revival furniture represents stylized versions of true 18th-century American Colonial pieces. A reproduction, on the other hand, is an exact replica of the original, often made of the same type of wood, using the same woodworking techniques.

3. Determine its age. Check to see if it has any nails or screws. An original Chippendale desk would have been assembled with pegs and mortar and tenon joints. Does it have any manufacturers labels anywhere? If so, then it’s definitely a Colonial Revival piece or even a fine reproduction from the mid-20th century.

4. Check any drawers for dovetailing. You can usually tell if the dovetails are handmade or done by machine. Those done by machine are very regular and even and can usually be found on pieces after about 1870.

5. Look inside the drawers or pullouts and see if the maker used the same wood—for example, mahogany. Later versions will have used some sort of fruitwood---pear, apple, or even poplar---for the drawer backs and sides. If its an older piece, the drawer bottoms will be made of a thinner version of the same wood.

6. Does the piece have decoration that isn’t in keeping with its style? Look at the detailing on your piece of furniture. Does it have added knobs or edging that doesn’t seem to go with the style of the piece. Often one of the owners of the piece may have added these to make it more up to date. The opposite also applies. Can you tell if any details have been removed for the sake of updating?.

7. Have any repairs been made to the piece? Look for signs of glue, nails, or screws that seem newer than the piece, itself. Also look for replaced wood panels, veneer, or detailing, such as finials.

8. Has the hardware been replaced or is it original? You can usually tell if hardware has been replaced. For instance, you’ll often see chests of drawers sporting glass or brass knobs. Originally, these chests usually had wooden knobs, but antique dealers, in an effort to make them more attractive to decorators, replace the original knobs with glass or brass ones. It’s actually better to replace missing original knob with a reproduction rather than replace the entire set with hardware that wouldn’t have been originally on the piece.

9. Were you told anything it about it? Did the seller or the person who gave you the piece tell you anything about its past? Did you ask them?

By studying the closeup photos that accompany this blog, you’ll notice the following about this desk.

First, your desk is definitely from the late 19th century---I’d say probably the 1880s, based on the 1886 mark you found. Second, the dovetails are definitely 19th century. But the real signs are the nails or screws that appear in one of the photos and the rather poor craftsmanship of the carving and joining. In an authentic Chippendale, the wood would be perfectly matched---the top of the leg where it joins the desk is a good example. Also, the stain would be even. I believe this piece had been refinished at some point, and not very well. I can tell that from the molding closeup from the front rim of the desk. And the last sign is the carving, itself. The little stars were stamped in. No 18th-century craftsman would have ever done that.

When asking someone to help you identify a piece, it helps if you take closeup photos of certain parts of the piece—hardware, dovetails, inside of drawers, carving, repairs, even the back.

19th Century Tupperware

QUESTION: I recently won a box lot at a local auction. Inside the box I found what looks like a cup with an attached saucer. It’s heavy and a bit crude. Can you tell me what it is?

ANSWER: What you have is a 19th-century grease lamp made of stoneware. Farmers used these lamps, fueled by animal fat, in their homes. They often threw away early, less refined versions, as better ones appeared on the market. 

Stoneware is one of the hardy perennials of the American antiques trade. Each year, auction houses, antiques shops, and flea markets sell thousands of pieces at prices from $25 to several thousand dollars. The record price stands at $15,000 for a rare 1773 stoneware inkstand. Only a handful of pieces fetch prices in that stratospheric range.

Stoneware is a heavy, hard pottery that resists odors and tastes and won’t absorb water. The first American stoneware appeared in the last half of the 18th century, and for more than 100 years people used stoneware vessels to store and transport foods and liquids. It was essentially the 19th-century version of Tupperware. When glass and metal containers came into common use, people stopped using it.

Generally, it’s difficult to date stoneware unless a piece has the name and town of the maker or the name of the company that used the vessel to hold its product stamped on the bottom. For this reason, many collectors like to buy pieces made in their areas. But stoneware that can be identified as the work of an early potter may be worth several hundred dollars. For example, a double-handled crock inscribed "Commeraw" sold for $800 because it was made by Thomas Commeraw, a New York City potter active from 1795 to 1820. At a Massachusetts auction, a jug with the initials J. F. sold for $600—it’s attributed to a 1790's Boston potter named Jonathan Fenton. Sometimes the initials on a piece belong not to the maker but to the original owner, which makes the piece attractive to collectors interested in genealogy.

As with many other antiques, age isn’t the main reason in determining the price of an object—its decorative qualities are far more important. An attractive late-19th-century jug will fetch more at auction than a homely Revolutionary-era piece. Most stoneware forms, such as jugs, crocks, jars, churns, and pitchers, are very simple and vary only slightly in shape and design. Decoration, if any, tends to be sparse. When a potter decorated his pieces, he often used simple floral, bird, or scroll motifs painted on the stoneware in three basic colors—blue, brown, or black. The most common stoneware style has a gray-glazed background with blue decoration. Such run-of-the-mill pieces, which represent about 90 percent of the stoneware available today, are generally worth less than $50.

Because many stoneware items look alike, the most valuable pieces are those with unusual or imaginative decoration. A rare form, such as your stoneware grease lamp, or an odd-sized piece, an exceptionally large crock, for example, can be worth several hundred to several thousand dollars.