Tag: Pottery

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.8 – Tin Glazed & White Stonewares.
Archaeology · Pottery Guide

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.8 – Tin Glazed & White Stonewares.

Tim Campbell-Green2 Comments

What Ho! What Ho! And if I may be so bold… What Ho!

How are we all? Bearing up under the circumstances? Summer, such as it was, has gone, and Autumn is upon us. A time of harvesting, of blackberrying, of apples… and pottery, obviously. And just like that, without further ado (and ignoring the groaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth), we tiptoe into Part 8 of the fabled (and seemingly never-ending) Rough Guide to Pottery; let’s have a look at some rather splendid sherds.

So then, today we are looking at some rarer types of pottery – well, perhaps not rare as such, just not as commonly encountered as some of the other stuff I’ve previously talked about.

TIN-GLAZED EARTHENWARE (aka Delft)
DATE: 1650-1770
DESCRIPTION: Hand painted glazed blued decoration on a whitish/blueish background
SHAPES: Cups, saucers, bowls, plates, small jugs, tankards, chargers with prominent ring foot. fine and delicate, with thin walls. Decorative tiles were also common in wealthy houses.

Originally tin-glazed pottery was imported from Italy, Spain and the Low Countries, but UK production began in Norwich in late 16th Century. Its heyday was roughly 1700 to say 1800… roughly. It remained popular until it was gradually replaced by White Salt-Glazed Stoneware by the mid 18th Century, which was more robust and much lighter, and cheaper to make. Tin-glazed pottery was another attempt at reproducing porcelain type pottery, and part of the quest to find a pure white background that seems to have dominated pottery making in the 17th and 18th centuries.

The process of manufacture was as follows. The vessel was turned by hand and using a former, and then biscuit fired (that is, it was fired undecorated and without a glaze). The pot is then dipped in the glaze and allowed to air dry. Once dry, the pot is then decorated by hand – quickly as the glaze is very absorbent. It is then once again fired, which fuses the glaze and fixes the decoration. 

In terms of fabric, it’s an earthenware, a pale colour – white-ish or cream colour, with later examples being almost pure white. It has occasional tiny pink, reddish or darker inclusions, and is a soft to medium hardness.

Fabric. It is stained slightly to a creamy colour, but you can see the paler white where there is a new break. You can also make out some reddish inclusions in the fresh break… if you squint hard enough.

It uses a lead oxide glaze mixed with tin, which gives it a blueish white or pale cream colour, but is more blue where it pools – in particular around the ring base, where the pot was dried upside down.

The pooled glaze is very blue here. There is also a maker’s mark on the bottom – alas, that’s all I have of this pot, otherewise we might have been able to identify the potter.

The glaze has an almost luminescent quality and has a consistent smooth, dense feel to it – the product of the lead – but can occasionally have tiny imperfections or dimples in it. The glaze can also be thickish in places, but it is fragile and can flake off in patches, exposing the fabric below – most obviously at the edges of sherds. The surface occasionally shows the marks of the trivets that separated the vessels in the kiln.

Flaky! This was what was in my bag after I emptied it… bits. You can also clearly see the glaze has crazed and flaked off in patches.

It’s the decoration that really makes this stuff special, though. It’s all hand-painted, and because the dried but unfired glaze is super absorbent, it has to be done with speed: the brush strokes are wide or thin, and it’s done in a fluid and moving motion, quick and rough, impressionistic, and almost living, and certainly not fixed like transfer-printed wares.

There’s no mistaking this is hand drawn – each line is human made. A beautiful if naive image of a house, surrounded by trees that seem to have been made with sponges.
Simple but wonderfully effective decoration – a single line hand drawn around the vessel – probably a tea bowl or similar shape. You can also see the flaked glaze surface.
Delicate handle for a jug or similar.

There is no way to erase the decoration once applied, which accounts for occasional errors, and which I think only adds to the attraction. The colour is almost universally a wonderful cobalt blue, but occasionally purple or orange is found. The subjects are largely naturalistic – foliage in particular – but there are also scenes with animals, people, and buildings. As well as actual pots, tin-glazed pottery was very much favoured for tiles among the wealthy, and some stunning examples exist.

Stunning dragonfly tile dating to 1670ish – from this website, and only £216!
Tile fragment found by me – the colour on this tile are simply stunning. Showing a stylised flower (thanks Julian)… I wish I could find the rest of it.

I honestly love this stuff, there is something wonderful about it – the colours in particular – and although I don’t have a lot of it, it’s always a joy to find.

The next lot of pottery type occupies a similar space in time – broadly the 18th century – and indeed, overtook Tin-Glazed pottery in terms of popularity…

WHITE SALT-GLAZED STONEWARE (aka Fine White Stoneware)
DATE: c.1720-1770
DESCRIPTION: Thin walled, white glazed, impressed decoration, hard stoneware.
SHAPES: All sorts of tablewares (i.e. not cooking or storage), common are cups and bowls, but plates, platters, jugs, salt shakers, sugar bowls, etc.

A selection of sherds, all mid 1700’s in date.

A later development than Tin-Glazed, it was first made in the later 17th century, but only began to be produced commercially from the 1720’s onwards.

The fabric is a typical stoneware, in this instance with added calcined (burnt) flint to produce a pale cream, almost white colour. It is then fired at a very high temperature and salt glazed, to produce a fine, strong, pottery that I find really quite beautiful.

Close up of the fabric. Very pale grey-ish to white, with visible voids created by gases formed by the high temperature it is fired at. There are also occasional brown and dark grey inclusions visible both in the break and the surface.

Vessels are formed one of two ways: either by being turned on a lathe when leather dry but before firing, which produces very sharp edges and fine horizontal banding; or by pressing thin sheets of clay into a mould, which allows the fine relief decoration to be made.

In this latter case, often the inside of the clay is wiped with a cloth to ensure the clay presses into every corner of the mould, which leaves very clear wiping marks, especially on closed vessels (jugs, for example) where the inside wouldn’t be seen.

Wiping marks on the interior of a jug. The black writing is an excavation code – BGW (upside down in this photo) – which stands for Back Garden Wall… I found these sherds underneath my garden wall!

External decoration, beginning c.1730, includes basket work patterns, leaves and other foliate designs, although simple incised horizontal lines are commonly encountered on earlier pieces.

Close up of that beautiful foliate decoration – the result of being formed in a mould.

Occasionally, the walls are pierced, though this seems largely confined to high-end expensive dinner services.

Alas, not found beneath my garden wall! Lovely plate with pierced decoration and impressed motifs. Image is stolen without shame from this website here. A snip at £450! Do check out the website, though, as there are more examples of White Stoneware.

There are also rare examples of transfer-printing on stoneware:

A truly terrible photograph, but you get the idea! This is dated from the period where potters are experimenting with transfer-printing – later 1700’s.

The exterior is salt-glazed, meaning that at a point during the firing process salt is added to the kiln, which vaporises and coats the vessels in a clear glaze. Although solid and even, it often leaves an orange-peel, slightly melted roughened type effect on the surface, as it does on the Brown Salt-Glazed Stonewares discussed here.

The ‘orange peel’ salt-glaze is very obvious on this sherd. The horizontal band is very neat and tight, carved using a tool on a lathe. You can also see some sort of damage underneath the glaze (above the chip).
Wonderful coffee pot of c.1760-ish, and a snip at £1250! It is lovely, though. Same website.

White Stoneware gradually overtook Tin-Glazed pottery in popularity, and began to dominate the fineware market from the 1740’s onwards – it is a lot lighter than the earthenware, and crucially it is much more hardwearing, with the surface unlikely to flake off or crack. It also appealed to the middle classes; its fine white background mimicking the desirable but very expensive imported Chinese porcelain, a crucial part of the tea and coffee drinking craze that had gripped Britain at this point. It remained popular until eventually overtaken by the development of Creamware and other earthenware types in the late 18th century.

SCRATCH BLUE
DATE: c.1740-1780
DESCRIPTION: Pale stoneware, incised decoration highlighted in messy cobalt blue
SHAPES: Mugs, Tankards, Jugs, Chamber Pots.

Broadly speaking, Scratch Blue is decorated Pale/Grey/White Salt-Glazed Stoneware – it has the same fabric and glaze. Essentially, this was a UK answer to the lovely looking Westerwald stoneware pottery being made in Germany (see below) and imported in large quantities – the English potters wanted a piece of the action, and produced a cut price version. It reproduces the essentials of Westerwald – incised decoration and stunning cobalt blue highlights on a pale stoneware (white-ish or pale creamy grey) background, but overall it tends to be more sloppy. The incised decoration is less careful, often looking as though it was done quickly, and the cobalt slip often overruns and splashes.

Wonderful chamber pot, with a King George medallion (probably George II)

Actually, I think this ‘messiness’ was deliberate, a way of ‘jazzing up’ the decoration, and it’s certainly effective. That’s not to say that there aren’t some very careful and precise examples, though, and in fact American archaeology seems to divide Scratch Blue into two types – Scratch Blue, which is very finely decorated, and ‘Debased’ Scratch Blue, which is the messier variety. I’m not sure that the distinction is particularly useful, or indeed ‘real’ as such, but there you go – my twopenn’orth.

A jug.

In terms of decoration, there are incised flowers and leaves and multiple horizontal turned bands at the top and bottom, all highlighted in cobalt blue and occasionally manganese brown. Also, there are applied medallions, sometimes containing the royal arms and cipher of King George II/III.

A tea bowl with a lovely flower incised on it. All these images are stolen from the hugely invaluable Colonial Ceramics website of Maryland – well worth checking out their huge database of pottery.

I have a single, very small, sherd of Scratch Blue pottery, and this stuff is by no means common, especially up North.

That’s it, a single 2cm sherd of Scratch Blue is all I have. There must be more out there…

It seems to be from the base or top of a tankard, something like this:

Possibly something like this, from roughly 1780. From Colonial Williamsburg’s website.

This seems appropriate as it was found on the footpath outside an 18th century one-time pub, the Seven Stars off Hague Street, Whitfield.

WESTERWALD (aka Rhenish Ware)
DATE: c.1650-1780
DESCRIPTION: Pale or grey Stoneware, incised decoration highlighted in cobalt blue
SHAPES: Mugs, Tankards, Jugs.

Unusually, I don’t actually have a sherd of this to show you! It wasn’t particularly common up in the North – London being the big importer and consumer of this ware type. As I said above, Scratch Blue is the indigenous British potter’s response to this German imported pottery, and as you can see it is very similar:

Lovely jug of Westerwald from this website – it sold at auction for a surprisingly cheap £150

Incised decoration, cobalt blue highlights, applied medallions and other decoration, it is often difficult to tell apart. However, Westerwald seems to be bigger somehow, less delicate… and at the risk of offending our German cousins, more Teutonic. There also seems to be a greater use of cobalt decoration, and the background stoneware is darker in many circumstances.

Another jug – from this website.

And there the matter shall have to rest until I can find some Westerwald sherds to discuss at greater length (I might have to get a mudlarks license and head down to London and poke about on the Thames foreshore).

Right, I think that’s enough pottery for now – next time we’ll look at some fine earthernwares… you lucky folk.

Now, someone recently asked me if I could put links to all the previous Pottery Guides at the bottom of the post, so they can use it quickly to find out what they have… well here you are:

Part 1 – Marmalade Jars and Brown Stoneware (Nottingham and Derbyshire)

Part 2 – Spongeware

Part 3 – Industrial Slipwares

Part 4 – Creamware, Pearlware, and Whiteware

Part 5 – Blue and White Transfer-Printed, Flow Blue, and Shell-Edged

Part 6 – Porcelain, Bone China, Black Basalt Ware

Part 7 – 17th Century Slipwares, Manganese Glazed, and Yellow Ware

Enjoy, or not, as you wish.

Right, that’s all for now.

In other news, the Glossop Big Dig results are forthcoming… slowly. If any of you have any bags that need handing in, please do so, and I’ll get the results up asap.

Other other news is the ‘zine – Where/When – The Journal of Archaeological Wanderings – which is just about ready to go off to the printers. You will soon be able to buy a physical copy of a guided walk I did a while back, filled with historical musings and observations (and a sprinkling of pottery, obviously). It’s an experiment of sorts – we’ll see how it sells and whether I can make my costs back, but I’ve got about 6 more walks ready to go, and I’d like each one to be in the ‘zine. It will be full colour, 40 pages, fully illustrated, and should be retailing for £6, but watch this space.

The front cover of the first edition – hopefully ready within a week or two, and available to order via the Where / When button at the top.

If any of you out there have either suggestions for walks, or would like to publish one yourself, do get in contact. More news on this soon.

Until then, look after yourselves and each other, and I remain.

Your humble servant,

TCG

A Pulchritudinous* Pile of Pottery
Archaeology · Pottery

A Pulchritudinous* Pile of Pottery

Tim Campbell-Green1 Comment

*Guess who got a thesaurus in his Christmas stocking? Also, as an interesting aside, this question also shows you how long I have been working on this post – it made sense and was relevant when I wrote it in early January.

What ho, wonderful blog reading folk, what ho!

The search for pottery and other bits of archaeology never really stops, does it? I’m sure you all know what I mean (I meant for the rest of us, not you… we know you don’t like it!). I seem to spend my life looking down and around, especially in places I might encounter the stuff. Never digging, but simply looking… and finding. Honestly, it’s something that I’ve done all my life, and I am pleased to say that Master C-G has also caught the bug. As, also, have some of his school friends, who regularly seek me out in the playground with joyful looks on their faces to show me the ‘wonderful’ things they have found over the weekend (hello RR, RB & NB). These are distinctly unlike the looks on their parent’s faces who are not as impressed with the search for bits of old plates interrupting their Sunday walks, and then humping bags of the stuff around. Awfully sorry chaps.

I’ve recently found some nice bits and pieces (not just pottery – flint, metal work, and a potentially very interesting whetstone… which is a phrase not many people will have uttered) that I need to a) blog about, and b) inform the Finds Liaison Officer about, and not necessarily in that order. All joking aside for the moment, it is really important to inform the FLO if you find anything ‘interesting’. It might not be interesting in the end, but if it is then at least someone knows about it, and that can fill out the archaeology and history of an area, changing it significantly in some cases. Also, you might get something into the Portable Antiquities Scheme – the British Museum programme that records all finds made (currently containing 1,623,055 objects, and going up on a daily basis) – and end up on the website (it’s searchable, with hundreds of thousands of photos, and more information that you can shake a sherd at – honestly, if you have a spare minute or three, give it a search here… and whole hours of your life will simply disappear!).

Anyway, onto the pottery…

I’ve tried to choose the more interesting bits today – older sherds for example – rather than the plain white or Willow Pattern. As an aside, I have recently come to realise that I have entirely too much pottery. I know, I know… can such a state exist? is it possible? A few years ago, I would have said no, but as I cast a weary gaze around the splendour of CG Towers, my normally steely nerve begins to falter; a deep sense of foreboding swells inside me, a certain something-or-other happens to my voice, and a tremor appears in my hands. At this point I normally go for a lie down, or depending on the location of sun in relation to the yardarm, a snifter of the stuff that cheers. But I cannot escape the niggling thought that I have whole boxes filled with, well, quite frankly, boring bits of pottery… and if I’m saying it’s boring, you know it to be true! I might start returning it to where I found it, or adding it to Shelf Brook in Manor Park to give mudlarks there more things to find. Hmmmmm? What’s that you say? No… No thank you, Mr Shouty-Outy. I won’t be “sticking” it there, thank you very much.

Anyway, moving swiftly on from such unpleasantries… the first of the pottery.

This first batch comes from the same place I found the lead came (this article, here) at the top of Whitfield Avenue, and the pottery dates from largely the same date – early – mid 1700’s, give or take.

Now, even I have to admit that this is not the mosr inspiring collection of pottery, and it’s chief inportance lies in its age. No.7 is a sherd of a Manganese Glazed bowl or larger cup, and No.6 is a fragment of a black iron-rich glazed cup. The other sherds are similarly glazed, and from larger vessels – bowls or pancheons (No.2 in particular). No.4 is interesting, and is probably a little newer – perhaps 1800? The grey fabric is unusual, and it seems to come from a pedestal footed bowl, perhaps a sugar bowl?

The next group of bits is of a similar age and type – early-mid 18th century, and possibly a little earlier in two cases – and comes from the bottom of one of the tracks that run from Hague Street to Charlestown Road, the southernmost of the two.

No.7 is a fragment of a Nottingham Stoneware grooved handle from a tankard or similar – something like this, perhaps:

Not quite as fancy as this one, but along these lines, and you can see the grooved strap handle. Stolen, as usual without shame, from John Howard’s rather useful website.

No.5 is a truly wonderful flat base fragment of a Manganese Mottled Ware cup/mug type. Dating to roughly 1680-1710, the pale buff coloured clay tells me it was made in Staffordshire, and the base diameter of 6cm tells me it was a mug or similar small-ish vessel. It is very typical of it’s time, with a thick brownish manganese glaze somewhat slapdash-ly applied, and a chamfered base. Wonderful stuff.

Lovely chamfered edge – you can see where the potter has cut away the wet clay – the human element.

The original would have looked something like this:

I honestly love these things, and the glaze is lovely, the manganese melting in the heat of the kiln providing the streaking that is so attractive.

The above photographs are courtesy of the Chipstone Foundation, and their wonderful website which published pottery from the Talbot Hotel midden in Tetbury, Gloucestershire. It was full of pottery of this date (broadly 1670 – 1720), and is an invaluable resource – a snapshot of provincial utilitarian pottery of the time; nothing fancy, nice but basic, and exactly the sort of thing we would expect among the bourgeoning middle class of Glossop. The website is honestly well worth looking at, here.

Other bits include No.3, the base to a large black-glazed pancheon or open bowl with a base diameter of 15cm, give or take. No. 2 is a manganese glazed bowl, but interestingly the glaze has some away from the slipped surface underneath, allowing us a peek into how it was made. No. 4 is a similar sherd, but the glaze was applied in a slapdash manner, giving a drip effect decoration, and showing the slip underneath after it was fired, now a purple-ish colour. No.1 is obviously a sherd of 17th or early 18th century Staffordshire Slip Ware. It’s quite thick, so would be from a plate or platter, and it’s very nice.

The big question here is what is it doing there? The trackway seems to have been a later ‘version’ of the older one just to the north, perhaps replacing it when it became worn out, or when the Methodist chapel was built on Hague Street at the top in 1813 (certainly it remained a thoroughfare for some time, as it has a streetlight halfway down and a cast iron drain cover). But I wonder if the trackway is not related to the pottery, and it simply cuts through a midden or dump of a nearby house that no longer exists. To judge from the wills and deeds, Whitfield at the turn of the 18th century was thriving, so there must be plenty of houses here that we don’t know about, those that didn’t survive the ravages of time. Now, as people tend not to move rubbish very far, this suggests that this house was nearby, and whilst the two houses that sit at the end of the track now are Victorian in date, did they perhaps replace an earlier house? Whatever the answer is, I think this is a spot I’ll return to! Who’s with me?

Moving on

As I walk around, I always try and discover new paths and passageways to explore – the talk I gave recently in Chester (The Gold in Your Back Yard) was the result of just that – asking the question “what’s down there?”. In terms of psychogeography this is called a derive: a wander with no intention other than seeking situations, encounters, environments, finds, and exploration. This is a concept that I love. I may be a sturdy chap, and as tough as old nails Englishman (notwithstanding the ridiculous moustache), but there lies within me a somewhat far-out hippy (within certain clearly defined parameters – obviously I draw the line at naturism; an Englishman needs his trousers, by Jove! And besides, Glossop’s too bloody cold… one might die of indecent exposure). So when this next small group of material popped quite unexpectedly out of a disturbed patch of earth in the previously untrodden (by me) tiny path that runs between the western end of Kershaw Street and Wood Street (next to what was the Labour Club), I gave a quick “what ho!” and dove in.

My phone’s camera has recently decided to get blurry at the edges, which is extremely helpful when photographing small objects. Please accept my apologies.

There is nothing particularly exciting here, to be honest. Top sherd is a fragment of the ‘Willow Pattern’ blue and white transfer printed ware – pretty standard stuff, part of the edging around the main scene. Below that is a pearlware pedestal base to something small (the rim diameter is 6cm – a little large for an eggcup, so perhaps a sugar bowl?). And then there are the clay pipe stems – neither are especially interesting, but they illustrate a useful nugget of information. Compare them side by side:

I really need a manicure and some moisturiser.

Look at the holes – the bore size is different: the smaller has a diameter of 2mm, the larger bore on the right, 3mm (and whoever shouted out “you’re the biggest bore” – only you finds that sort of thing funny, you know… honestly, I don’t know why I bother sometimes). Earlier pipes normally have a larger bore size, but as the process of making clay pipes was refined, a smaller size wire was used. It is also often the case that the earlier pipes are thicker, too, for similar reasons, but caution should be urged here as it depends on where in the pipe stem you measure, as they often taper. it’s safer to use the bore size as a rough guide – the smaller here is 19th century, the larger is probably Georgian/18th century.

The next group I picked up in the field that contains Whitfield Cross – random molehills and on the path, and probably the result of nightsoiling.

That is truly an awful photograph. If anyone would like to donate a decent digital camera – or some time to teach me the art of photography – please do!

Again, nothing earth shattering: a Victorian clay pipe stem (a 2mm bore) which shows signs of having been next to something iron, the rust staining the white clay. A sherd of Industrial Slip decorated pottery, early Victorian in date, but looks older. And a tiny fragment of a decorated clay pipe bowl.

Knackered, but it looks interesting.

Impossible to make out what the decoration is, especially from that photograph! There are pellets around the bottom, and perhaps legs? So maybe figures, rather than a pattern. Who knows. And yes, I am the sort of person who glues tiny bits of pottery back together, thank you for noticing. I recommend UHU Yellow (the sherd nerd’s glue of choice); it’s quick setting, but not as strong as the much harsher superglue, which means it can be undone and re-set if needed. It also cleans up well at the join.

This next collection was found during a quick impromptu mudlark in Hurst Clough. It’s from a site above the dump that periodically washes out into the brook, so probably represents something else – farm rubbish from nearby Lower Jumble, perhaps.

Again, nothing particularly special (a theme is developing!), but a good selection of Victorian stuff.

Top row: A very nice whiteware pedestalled footed bowl, with very sharply defined edges lines (which might mean it was made on a lathe). It has vertical fluted decoration and a band of wavy lines, and was probably once very fancy, although it is now very grubby – the peat in the water staining it brown. Next we have 2 sherds of annular Industrial Slip Ware. The blue and white is a rounded bowl with a diameter of c.16cm. The brown one is likely to be Dendritic (the tree-like design), and probably early 19th century. Then we have a thin-walled sherd of brown stoneware – a bowl or similar. Bottom row: There is a large blue and white transfer printed Willow Pattern plate- part of a mountain and a bit of fence. Next to that is another sherd of a different Willow Pattern plate, this one has a slightly wonky looking and misaligned tree from the garden. Next, a rim from a large bowl (diameter c.18cm) of something hand painted, possibly a spongeware. Finally, there is a cobalt blue glass fragment. It’s thin walled and an irregular shape, so probably not a bottle, and more likely some sort of decorative vase. I’d like to melt it down and make my own spun glass beads at some stage, and in fact have been collecting random bits of coloured glass fragments for just such craft activities. It’s doable, but I need practice… like so many other things I’d like to try.

And to end with, a small selection from Manor Park – some bits and pieces from Shelf Brook and around the skate ramp area. The whole area of Manor Park seems to have been radically landscaped sometime in the 1930’s, and a lot of rubbish was used to fill in parts of it. As a consequence, there are lots of places dotted around where you can find all sorts of interesting late Victorian/early 20th century stuff. I know some of you also like to have a poke around here, so if you find anything interesting, let me know.

To start with, another clay pipe fragment:

A tiny fragment, but decorated.

Initially, I struggled to work out what the decoration might be, then it hit me – an “S” surrounded by a rope… Staffordshire’ and the knot. A quick google led me to this :

Wonderful clay pipe.

A Victorian (late) clay pipe decorated with the Staffordshire knot and letters ‘S’ & ‘K’ (Staffordshire Knot, perhaps?). It’s nice to see the whole thing, and who doesn’t love a clay pipe?

Beads!, people, beads!

Wonderful beads.

I love beads so much but I never find the blighters – I seem to be bead-blind. Pottery I never miss – I can’t look around without seeing mountains of the stuff falling out of the ground, literally throwing itself at me even when I’m not looking. Beads? Nope, nary a sniff, and both of these were found by Mrs C-G who has the eyes of a hawk (you might say she is… beady-eyed! What? Never mind “badum-tish‘, that was comedy gold). Anyway, moving on… The white one on the left is a simple paste bead, the one on the right is a wound glass bead with a strange and lovely incandescent colouring.

A pair of marbles

I love marbles even more, though. So tactile, so wonderful, but also a real link to the human, to the person who owned them, and a path between the past and the present. Both are made of clay, and both are perfect, unlike this next one…

A small selection of bits.

Bottom left – the sad remains of what was once a large clay marble. I gave a yell when I saw the poking through the mud “a dobber!” but alas, upon excavation, what I could see through the mud was all that there was left.

Also in the photograph, the tip of a slate pencil. I often find these, and the other day was idly wondering why it is that I only ever find the tips, never the stems. Then I realised – it’s a single stick of slate – if it gets broken, the end can be sharpened, and voila… a new pencil.

Top left is a lovely piece of hand painted pottery – a very fine and delicate abstract shape, with the decoration on the interior, meaning it was an open shape – a bowl or similar. Bottom middle is another tiny sherd of worm decorated Industrial Slip Ware. Bottom right is a sherd of White Stoneware, with a leaf moulded decoration, and dating to probably 1800 or so. This stuff is very fine and lovely, and I have a whole chapter of the Rough Guide to Pottery on this subject almost ready to go – I’ll finish it off and post it next time (can anyone else hear that groaning sound?).

Sticking with pottery, are these bits:

I like it when there is a picture or words.

Left is the top part of a flag, probably from a royal celebration cup or something similar, and right shows a 17th century style manor house or small hall. No idea about the actual subject, but it could be decorative or possibly as souvenir. The middle is the name of the maker and, helpfully, the pattern number. A quick Google search reveals that it belongs to something like this:

Behold… a big plate!

A J & G Meakin ‘Sunshine’ pattern plate, dating from around 1920 or 30. So there we go.

And staying with identifying marks from Manor Park:

‘alf a cup, cheers.

A Tams Ware ‘Greystone’ pattern coffee cup, like this one:

Actually, these are quite nice!

Very Art Deco 1920’s style, and surprisingly not too tacky. I like the hand-painted ‘T’ on the base of the above sherd, put there by the painter – a little human touch.

These next three were a mystery for a long time; ceramic, tubular, and smooth, they seemed a little too big to be beads. Very strange, and quite common.

Then I watched a YouTube mudlarking video – Northern Mudlarks I think it was – and they mentioned that they are in fact old electrical insulators. I dug a little deeper, and the answer is the “knob and tube” wiring system… obviously. Now, ignoring the schoolboy humour (I may be just the right side of 50, but I’ll admit that raised a smile), this was a system of allowing houses to be wired with electricity from roughly the 1880’s to perhaps the 1930’s. Using these insulators, it ensured the poorly insulated wires didn’t come into contact with combustible material (like, for example, your floorboards!), and were held in place. Go ahead and follow the link to the Wikipedia page above, but honestly, looking at this, it’s amazing that we’re all still here. They are rather neat and natty little porcelain objects, and I’m glad I now know what they were for.

Onto some more pottery… of course. These bits were found on a footpath near Carr House Farm, Whitfield (now in the Shirebrook estate). Probably farm waste, but they are interesting.

Some bits and pieces.

Top row, left, is a fragment of window glass, thin and bluish, it’s perhaps quite early (18th century?). Next to it is a sherd of willow pattern, from the border of the design. Bottom row, right is a sherd of Engine Turned Industrial Slipware dating to c.1790-1880… ish (here is my article on this stuff). In the middle is a shard of very dark, almost black, glass, probably from a bottle. The dark colour normally indicates it is early – the darker, the earlier – as a rule of thumb – 18th century gin or wine bottle, perhaps? Far left, though, is my favourite sherd. This is the tiny, almost non-functional, handle from a 17th century manganese-glazed tyg. Yep, you read that right, a tyg – a multi-handled drinking cup of the 17th-18th century. The handles are tiny, perhaps only 1.5″ in diameter, but allow a hot cup to be passed from person to person without scalding. A complete version looked sort of like this:

Image stolen, shamelessly, from the Victoria and Albert Museum – explore it here.

Absolutely wonderful… I love this sort of thing.

Next up we have a pair of vulcanised rubber bottle stoppers.

Early 20th century in date, I honestly love these things – very tactile, and usually have a maker or company name on top, as is the case here:

Lovely stuff.

Wilson & Bate of Glossop are very well known local company. Founded in 1869 they made mineral water, as well as cordials and beers. The bottles – stone ware and glass – are quite commonly found, too, and fragments have featured on the blog previously. Andrew & Atkinson of Hyde are similarly well known – founded in 1890, their bottles and tops are another common find – there is a great deal of information about them on the always interesting Hydonian blog. Do check it out, it’s very good.

And now… some money.

I do like the colour of verdigris corrosion

A pair of old One Penny coins – one dated 1929, the other corroded beyond all help (apparently, there are things I can do to remove the corrosion, but, frankly, and between you and me, I can’t be arsed). Both were found on the grass/mud by the children’s play area, perhaps fallen out of the pocket of a child.

Next up, is this lovely thing – a ceramic Reeves paint pan, designed to take a tablet of watercolour (orange, judging from the bit still inside the pan).

Apparently, they are quite common finds on dump sites and what-not, but this is the only one I’ve ever found.

It says on the bottom “Reeves’ School Quality. Made in England”, and you can’t argue with that. It would originally have been one of many in a paint box, and designed to be bought as refills as they run out. The whole doodad would have looked like this:

You can buy similar Reeves’ paintboxes on ebay – here, for example

Right, that’s all for now. Apologies for the long-winded ramble that this blog post seems to have become, but I hope you enjoyed it. And apologies also for the delay in posting the article… all I can say is a combination of exciting news and personal issues have conspired against me… sorry. Now, for those of you who are interested, I have just discovered a wonderful article on Industrial Slip Wares that is waaaaaay more comprehensive than mine – so if you have an interest in this type of pottery, then give it a read. It also has some beautiful photograph of the pottery, as well as how it is made. It really is quite comprehensive – check it out here.

Also, the YouTube channel I mentioned, the Northern Mudlarks, is well worth checking out. They put up a new video each week of them finding exactly the sort of things you have just read about, and explore all kinds of interesting places and things, as well as craft-y type stuff. So if you like this blog, then Check them out, here.

So then, that’s all for now. I have exciting news for the near future, and there’s lots going on at the moment. So watch this space, or Twitter (or whatever it calls itself these days).

Until next time, look after yourselves and each other, and I remain, your humble servant.

TCG

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.7 – The 17th Century (Slipwares & Manganese Glazed)
Archaeology · Pottery Guide

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.7 – The 17th Century (Slipwares & Manganese Glazed)

Tim Campbell-Green6 Comments

What ho wonderful people, what ho!

The pottery guide is back… I know, I know, I can feel your excitement from here!

Well, let’s get straight down to it… no point in beating about the old ‘b’, is there.

Influenced by the first finds from Glossop’s Big Dig (courtesy of my wonderful neighbours, Helen and Sarah), I have devoted this post to the 17th and early 18th century pottery types, and in particular Slipwares.

Two pieces of lovely late 17th or early 18th century pottery – left is a sherd of a Staffordshire Slipware plate or platter, right is a cup in Slip Trailed Ware. And a Victorian marble. Not bad for the first finds of Glossop’s Big Dig!

Ah, slipware… wonderful slipware! I love this stuff. This is the stuff that keeps me feeling warm and fuzzy at night (nobody tell Mrs C-G). And wine, if I’m honest. If only there was some way of combining both… Anyway, I digress. Slipware! We met it’s younger cousin, Industrial Slipware, in a previous episode of the guide (Pt.3, here). However, regular Slipware dates from much earlier (roughly 1630- 1750 say), and whilst there is a similar process involved (essentially slip and pottery), this is very different; simple and less precise, it’s rough and oddly much more human. In a philosophical way, this is what the Arts & Crafts movement, in it’s deliberate rejection of industrialisation and mass production, was trying to get back to. And I think it’s why I like it so much. Bold colours, somewhat messy, and very tactile, it is a celebration of creativity, and is tremendous fun. What I like about this, too, is that whilst it’s of its time, you can see the medieval influence in the pottery, and in a way it looks back to its roots. But it also looks forward, to the Industrial Revolution that would completely and permanantly change Glossop. It straddles both these periods, linking them, Whilst it’s not common, you can find this stuff fairly regularly in the Glossop area – testament to the growing size and importance of the town in the early 18th century.

Slipware is all made using broadly the same techniques, and truthfully, the first two categories Slip Trailed Ware and Staffordshire Slipware are in essence the same type of pottery, made and decorated using the same methods, but with different decorative motifs… you’ll see what I mean.

SLIP TRAILED WARE
DATE: 1650-1740
DESCRIPTION: Yellow or cream decoration on a dark (often reddish, brown, black, sometimes yellow) background.
SHAPES: Table wares only, no cooking or storage – plates, platters, bowls, jugs, cups, tankards.

The process of manufacture is relatively simple. The vessel is shaped on the wheel (although flat shapes – platters and plates, for example – were shaped in a mould), and left to dry. When leather hard (that is not fully dry, but hard enough to maintain the shape), the vessels were covered in a reddish brown slip (that is, a solution of clay and water) and decorated using more slip of a different colour. A glaze is applied over the top, which, when fired, changes the colour to a much darker tone. The slip was poured from a bottle or jug, using a hollow quill as a nib enabling designs to be drawn. The background colours are earthy tones, and are often dark – browns, blacks, and reds are common – although it can be yellow. The decoration is in a contrasting colour (rarely more than one) and is piped on. Often abstract patterns – spirals, lines, circles, wavy lines, and feathers – but also words, names, and dates, as well as sometimes bizarre looking animals or people, the result of the difficulty in getting finer details whilst piping the slip out of what is essentially an icing bag.

The finest of this type were made by a potter called Thomas Toft (d.1698), who made very complex, if by our standards naïve, images.

The work of Thomas Toft. King Charles I hiding in an oak tree.

It’s unlikely we’ll find something like that (and good luck if you do – they are worth an absolute fortune!), and the more commonly encountered examples of this pottery are much simpler, comprising geometric designs, such as wavy lines on the flat rim of bowls, and lines and pellets on cups.

Not all vessels were decorated though, and one often encounters vessels simply slipped and glazed – these are often referred to as ‘Slip-Coated’ in the archaeological literature. The pottery is not particularly hard-wearing, and the slip and glaze is often found to have flaked off.

Where the glaze/slip has flaked off (bottom right), you can see how it was made. The natural clay colour – a sandy buff – is overlaid by the red slip, which turns black when the lead glaze is applied over it.

The fabric is not particularly hard-fired, and is normally pinkish buff, creamy, or pale yellow, with reddish-brown and white inclusions (archaeology talk for ‘bits added to the clay’ in this case, stone and bits of crushed pottery known as grog).

Fabric goodness! The grog is the larger lumps, made from crushed pottery.

Darker buff, grey, and reddish fabrics also exist reflecting the fact that there are several places of manufacture for this type of pottery besides Staffordshire (the potters would use their own local clay sources, so the fabric will be slightly different in each case). Ticknall, Derbyshire; Buckley, North Wales; and Wakefield, West Yorkshire all had large active potteries, and given the location of Glossop in relation to these places, it is likely that any could be a source. We also can’t discount very local pottery manufacture.

Three very different fabrics for the same type of pottery, probably representing three different manufacturing centres.

Shapes are commonly plates and bowls, jugs, salt pigs, and mugs/cups. The plates and bowls are often quite thick by today’s standards – up to 1/2 inch. These normally have a ‘pie crust’ rim, and sometimes clearly visible knife marks where the edges were shaped. Flat shaped vessels (plates, platters, etc.) were only slipped and glazed on the interior, with the base/exterior left clear, or with only a slipped surface.

Wonderful stuff.

Conversely the cups are thin walled, with rounded or angular foot rims. The underside and foot of the cups/jugs are not normally slipped or glazed, creating a sort of messy, slap-dash, finish to the whole. The interior can be slipped in the same colour as the background, or sometimes in a yellow. 

This is Helen & Sarah’s cup fragment. The scar of the strap handle is centre of the sherd, and top right there is just a tiny bit of yellow decoration visible. You can also see the red slip, and the difference in colour that the glaze makes when laid over it. This is a cup just like that above, and dates to about 1700.

Next up, we have the remarkably similar…

STAFFORDSHIRE SLIP WARE
DATE: 1650-1740
DESCRIPTION: Black or dark brown decoration on a yellow background, often feathered.
SHAPES: Table wares only, no cooking or storage – plates, platters, bowls, jugs, cups, tankards.

By and large, the same as Slip Trailed Ware above. Certainly, the manufacturing methods, fabric types, and shapes, are all the same. However, a distinction (perhaps a false one) is made in terms of decoration. The vessel is slipped in a pale cream, with a red slipped decoration applied (the opposite of Slip Trailed Ware), and the whole is glazed and fired. The glaze contains lead, which darkens the colours when fired, creating the bright yellow and dark brown/black decorative motifs that characterise this ware group.

This is actually wonderful!

In terms of decoration, we find broad stripes splashed across plates and bowls, and again lines and pellets, especially on cups.

The most common, though, is the ‘feathered’ decoration that really is quite eye-catching / eye-watering / migraine inducing (delete as appropriate). This characteristic decoration was achieved by dragging a comb or some other implement through the still wet slip, pulling the dark colour through the light, and producing a ‘feathered’ effect.

I love the shape, but not sure about the colour!
The interior of a pair of Staffordshire Slipware cups.

Occasionally, the slips are ‘joggled’, that is swirled together to produce a psychedelic pattern. Sometimes there is an impressed decoration or even words or dates below the slip. A less commonly encountered decoration is the ‘sgraffito’ style, in which the slip is scratched away to reveal the clay underneath, allowing quite detailed drawings to be made.

Impressed decoration under the glaze.

The shapes are the same as those in Slip Trailed Ware – plates and bowls, jugs, salt pigs, and mugs/cups.

The ‘pie crust’ rim on the sherd on the left is quite a common finish to large flat plates.
The other side of the above sherds, showing the lack of slip and glaze.

From an artistic point of view, I genuinely still don’t know whether I love or hate this stuff, but archaeologically it’s wonderful – instantly recognisable, and drops out of use in the early decades of the 18th century, giving us a great date.

Next up we have…

MANGANESE GLAZED (aka Manganese Mottled or simply Mottled Ware)
DATE: 1690-1750
DESCRIPTION: A brown mottled and/or streaked glazed surface.
SHAPES: Largely table wares – commonly mugs and tankards, plates, bowls, jugs.

Another relatively commonly encountered ware type. Here, the vessel is shaped – usually on a wheel – and then, instead of an underglaze slip being applied, it has a manganese glaze applied directly to the vessel interior and most of the exterior (with the exception of the underside of bases, and the lower part of the exterior of mugs/cups/tankards). When fired this creates the distinctive brown mottled and/or streaked effect.

A selection of Manganese Mottled sherds
Close up of the mottled surface
Another close up.

Broadly speaking, a darker glaze colour is usually seen as an earlier trait, with later examples tending to be lighter. Although, as is usual with such things, this is an overall tendency rather than an absolute rule, and there is often variation within the surface of a single vessel.

In terms of fabric, it is often the same as the Slip Wares described above – commonly pale buff or pink, with few red or dark brown inclusions – and it seems to have been made in the same potteries. And of course there are variations here, too, reflecting these different manufacturing centres.

Fabric types.

In terms of shapes, there is very much a focus on cups, mugs, and tankards, with them being used extensively in taverns of the time. Plates and bowls are less common. Decoration is limited (the glaze itself seems to be the main decorative motif), but includes multiple horizontal rings around the drinking vessels.

This leads us neatly to today’s barely pronounceable word of archaeological jargon – skeuomorph. A skeuomorph is something, made from one substance, but which is made to look like it’s made out of a different substance. In this case a tankard made from clay designed to look like it’s a more traditional one made from wood. Don’t say you don’t learn anything from this website!

A wooden staved tankard recovered from a shipwreck dated 1758. Earlier examples are also known. From this website, here.

This can’t be a coincidence – even the manganese glaze streaks look like wood – and I wonder if it is simply a case of “that’s how tankards are meant to look”.

Wonderful cup, squared foot with bad glazing.

This last photo (and the one above the wooden tankard) are taken from a truly remarkable website – the Chipstone Foundation – who have published, amongst other wonders, the contents of a pit excavated behind the Talbot Hotel in Tetbury, Wiltshire. All the material dates from between 1680 and 1720, giving a 40 year window into pottery use in a public house, and wow… if you like the stuff you see here, you’ll love the rest of the material. Honestly, it really is a hugely important site as it allows us to see what was used when, and how. I keep going back to the website just to gawp at the pottery! Check it out.

It is worth noting that there is a revival of manganese glaze in Victorian period, when it was used extensively on ‘Brown Betty’ teapots, in what was known as a ‘Rockingham glaze’. There shouldn’t be a problem in identifying these, though, as the glaze is not particularly mottled and is much better quality, and the all important fabric is very different, being a refined red in the proper versions, and a white or pale cream in knock-offs.

Finally then, we have this stuff.

MIDLANDS YELLOW WARE (aka Yellow Ware)
DATE: 1630-1720
DESCRIPTION: As the name suggests, a pale to bright yellow surface.
SHAPES: Table wares only, no cooking or storage – plates, platters, bowls, jugs, cups, tankards.

A small and uncommonly encountered ware type, Midland Yellow Ware does crop up from time to time in the Glossop area so I thought I’d include it.

Lovely stuff. Not common, but it’s out there.

Characterised by a dullish pale yellow colour, it is not normally slipped, but instead the lead glaze is applied directly to the vessel, enhancing the pale fabric. The glaze is not particularly good quality – there are usually brown spots (iron oxide reacting with the glaze) visible on the surface, it is roughly applied, and is often crazed with bits flaked off. Decoration is limited to incised lines and sharpish carination on more elegant cups.

Weird light makes it seem more yellow than it it… it’s a lot paler in real life.

The fabric is a pale pinkish buff, not particularly hard-fired, with red and dark brown/black inclusions and lots of voids. But it’s very similar to the Slip Wares described above which may point to a common origin for the pottery.

You can see the lead glaze where it has pooled.

Shape wise, it’s all tableware – serving and consumption – so bowls, plates, jugs, but commonly cups and mugs in the same styles as the Slip Wares described above. Often roughly made, with thin walls and finger marks showing, they have an almost organic feel.

Yellow Ware bowl
Yellow Ware cup

These last two images are taken from the another remarkable website/resource – the Bingham Heritage Trails Association website. They undertook a series of fieldwalking projects in the fields around the village in Nottinghamshire, and published the huge amounts of pottery they found online (follow the above link to explore – the different periods and types of finds are in the menu at the left). It is truly a remarkable resource, filled with photographs, descriptions, and drawings – just the sort of things sherd nerds and associated odd folk love – hugely recommended. Indeed, the whole project is one that I’m like to try and reproduce in Glossop. Ahhh, plans…

Right, that’s all for this time folks. I hope you are all beavering away, eyes down, in the Glossop Big Dig. Early results are looking great, and straight away we have material much earlier than the Victorian that is quite common. Keep looking, and who knows where we might end up – after all, we’re surrounded by 9000 years of history!

Until next time, look after yourselves and each other.

I remain, your humble servant,

TCG

Glossop’s Big Dig
Glossop Big Dig

Glossop’s Big Dig

Tim Campbell-Green1 Comment

What ho you wonderful people, you! But before we go on, some words…

MUDLARKING (verb)

The activity of searching the mud (= soft, wet ground) near rivers trying to find valuable or interesting objects.

POKE (verb)

To push a finger or other pointed object quickly into someone or something (Cambridge Dictionary)

A short one today (a lengthier one is in the pipeline), to announce the big news…. Glossop’s first Big Dig event. As some of you might know, I have been commissioned by Glossop Creates to develop a campaign involving their wonderful ‘Living Room‘ digital community archive (more about this soon). As a resident paired creative type (and Glossop’s premier sherd-botherer) I came up with a plan to get you all involved in what is shaping up to be an exciting project – The Big Dig.

So what is it?

Most of you who read this blog will already know that wherever you walk in Glossop – parks, footpaths, gardens, streams and brooks, allotments, etc. – there are bits of pottery and glass leaping like spring salmon out at you. This is the legacy of the Victorians and others, with them nightsoiling, dumping, or simply being littering oiks. However, what this stuff does is tell a story, as I like to show on the blog – each sherd was once part of a bigger vessel, and usually we can find a date and form for it. But each sherd is also a piece of social history, belonging to a person and a life, and is a part of the heritage of Glossop. And now I want you to all get involved in finding and understanding our shared history. Here’s how:

Well, firstly, don’t worry… it doesn’t involve any digging as such (so put down the shovels, mattocks, pickaxes, hoes, trowels, etc…. you look like a medieval angry mob. And you madam, step away from the JCB). It’s more a mudlark, a gentle poke about if you will (the phrase Glossop’s Gentle Pokeabout just didn’t have the same ‘zing’ as the ‘Big Dig’). I have prepared Big Dig packs that can be picked up from a number of places around the town, and which contain, amongst other objects, a wooden dessert spoon (for poking about) and a plastic zip lock bag (for the finds). So then…

  1. Find a spot to mudlark. Think places like: your back garden, the allotment, a footpath, a hedgerow, an old quarry, a molehill, walking up a hill, walking down a hill, paddling in Glossop Brook, skateboarding at Manor Park. But don’t stray onto private land, and please stay away from protected archaeology – it is very illegal and not at all helpful to dig anywhere near Melandra Roman fort, for example – remember, we’re poking about, not excavating!
  2. Poke about, using your spoon. A very useful tool is a spoon, and I carry one with me for just such occasions. Remember, no digging as such, just moving soil, turning over stones and twigs, shuffling spiders out of the way, poking at bits of pottery, stirring your tea, etc.
  3. Place your finds into the supplied plastic bag – finds might include pottery (very common), stone, glass, wood, beads, bottles, metal, bone, leather, gold, The Holy Grail (less common), the Ark of the Covenant, and possibly Shergar. Importantly, write where you found the material on the outside of the bag. This bit is very important.
  4. Hand the bag back to where you got it, and it’ll find its way to me, and then to the wider world.

The idea is that we’ll look at the material, give it a date and analyse it, and then enter the photographs and details onto the interactive map on the Living Room website here. Essentially, it’s the blog, but made larger, and involving you. You’ll be able to access the map and descriptions, and see the past come alive in the coming weeks and months. Please also enter your thoughts, feeling, stories, experiences, photographs and film about the Big Dig onto the website, too – I want this to be a truly community based experience. Also use the Twitter hashtag #GBD23 to get involved, we want to see your photographs of dirty hands and wonderful pottery bits.

There are, however, some things to be aware of:

  1. Exercise common sense, and be aware of others around you. Be safe, especially around water, and remember pottery, and particularly glass, can have sharp edges.
  2. Respect private property; your neighbour’s garden may have a Roman vase in it, but sadly unless you have their permission, it’s theirs. But you might have something better in yours.
  3. It is especially important to stay away from Scheduled Ancient Monuments – Melandra Roman Fort, for example.

And a final message. If you fall in Glossop Brook, tear your trousers, get the whole family muddy, scratch your hands on blackberry bushes, and end up with half an old plate to show for it… good! That’s exactly what Glossop’s Big Dig is all about.

All joking aside, whilst a lot of this pottery will be fairly mundane, if interesting, Victorian bits and pieces, 17th and 18th century pottery is also quite common in the area, and that has the potential to change what we know about Glossop’s past, and at the very least suggest places for further research. This is the first step in a process that might lead… well, who knows where, but I have big plans. The kits will be available form Glossop Library from Tuesday 25th April (the first 50 bags will have exclusive ‘Glossop’s Big Dig‘ badges in them, courtesy of of the amazing people at Kin.Der). Come down and see us on the day, or pick one up from a number of other places in town. The Big Dig will be running for as long as people want to do it – the process begins immediately, but we will continue to upload material to the website, with periodical updates on the blog.

So then, it is with great honour and pomp that I invite you to become members of that most auspicious, exclusive, and frankly alarming, club – the ‘Sherd Herd‘ (badges and t-shirts forthcoming). And as chief Sherd Nerd, I implore you all to go forth, forage, and find, record where you find it, and get involved.

My thanks to the truly wonderful Glossop Creates for allowing this opportunity – they have some great plans for our town, and want to involve everyone. So let’s do this.

Until the next time, look after yourselves and each other. And go find things – #GBD23

I remain, your humble servant

TCG.

A Chance Encounter
Archaeology · Pottery

A Chance Encounter

Tim Campbell-Green2 Comments

What ho, dear and lovely people, what ho!

Firstly, let me offer my apologies for the distinct lack of activity following my last post two months ago. I try and post at least an article a month, and the intention is there, but sometimes life just stops me. And life in CG Towers has been somewhat tense and trying recently, for one reason or another. Health concerns – both mental and physical – have taken their toll, as has some serious repair/building work. Amidst all this I simply ran out of steam and disengaged from my ‘normal’ life to focus on matters far more important and urgent. Mercifully, the worst has passed, but I am struggling to recapture my previous vim, vigour, and verdigris… if that’s the word I’m fumbling for. So there we are, and here we are, and this post is the first one now that the corner has hopefully been turned. On, ever on… if sometimes a little slowly and shakily.

As I passed through Harehills the other day I felt that familiar tingle, the magnetic impulse that exists ‘twixt sherd and nerd. Glancing here and there my eyes picked out some blue amongst the greys, greens, and browns, and lo! ‘Twas a sherd, a thing of joy, a glimmer of hope, heart, and humour.

Small, dirty, forgotten… but full of promise.

Stooping, I quickly photographed it, aware that a dog walker was slowly backing away from me in that way that people do. And then I picked it up. I love moments like this, and it’s why I do what I do. It’s not just the joy of finding a bit of treasure, a childhood pleasure that has never left me, but to hold in your hand a little piece of the past, a fragment of life long gone, with all the possibilities – that’s the key, and why I became an archaeologist… as if I ever wasn’t. I began to look at the sherd, to analyse and understand it. And then a thought: I’ll take you, gentle reader, on the journey of discovery with me, and we can unlock the secrets of the sherd together. This could be a bit of fun. Of course, “could” and “fun” in that sentence are used with caution, obviously.

The unwashed sherd, still full of promise.

Home it came, unwashed in my jacket pocket – for dramatic effect I resisted the urge to wipe it. What secrets would be revealed I wondered, as I ran it under the tap, and scrubbed it with an old toothbrush I keep for just such a purpose (of medium hardness, for those taking notes). First one side then the other, to expose the surface, and then each of the four edges, so that the important fabric is revealed. An interesting aside – sherds normally break into broadly geometrical shapes of 4 or 5 sides, but rarely more or less. This is one of the ways that you can spot a sherd from a distance, as nature rarely has 4 or 5 sided shapes, not does it often have straight-ish edges.

The cleaned sherd. It’s quite a pretty blue, not the normal cobalt blue of the Willow Pattern.

During the cleaning process, a number of things became apparent. Firstly, it came from a thin-walled vessel, which, coupled with having a diameter of roughly 10cm, suggests it is likely to have been part of a cup. Bigger vessels have thicker walls, and table wares – the pots from which you eat and especially drink (as opposed to preparing, cooking, or serving) tend to be more delicate and have thinner walls.

Secondly, both the exterior and interior surface was rough and dull. This is not how it would have been originally – it should have been smooth and shiny – but is the result of post-depositional activity… in this case, fire. Until the 1920’s, Harehills was used in part as a rubbish dump, and fires were often deliberately set in order to keep the smell down, and rats and flies away. They could start accidentally also, as people would clear out their coal fire which often contained smouldering cinders. Indeed, the 1928 Glossop ‘state of the union’ report tells us that one dump, “about 20ft in depth, had been on fire for many years“. The heat melts and bubbles the surface, causing the tiny holes and pitting you can just make out.

Exterior, close up.
The interior, too, has the pitting

The pinkish staining on the interior is possibly a grease stain, or perhaps also the result of post-depositional activity, with the colour leaching out of some other piece of rubbish?

Looking at the break we can see the fabric, which in this case is a fairly poor quality greyish Bone China.

You can also see the surfaces in section – the thin white line on either edge.

Now, given that the edges shows no sign of being burnt, unlike the surface, it seems that the sherd was broken off a larger piece after the fire damage had been done, suggesting that it has moved around a bit since it was first thrown away. This is also shown by the scratches you can see on the interior; they’re not like those made by a knife on a plate (and how hard do you have to stir a cup of tea to mark the glaze?), but have been made by close proximity to, and movement over, stones.

Moving onto the decoration. Obviously it’s blue and white, but the colour of the blue is odd, and it looks more like a spongeware pattern, with the blurred graininess you associate with the printing process, than the standard cobalt transfer printed whatnot. On balance, I’d say its a somewhat poor quality transfer which has a graininess to it. The image is something floral; I can see leaves, but not those found in the usual willow pattern pottery, but something more naturalistic, and which might suggests a later date for the cup.

The most obvious aspect of decoration is the fluting running vertically up the body of the cup (clearly visible in the fabric photograph above). This was quite a common decorative theme in the late Victorian and early 20th cemtury, with some even running diagonally up the body, spiralling around it.

So, putting it all together, and knowing what we know, we can work out what it might have looked like originally, and a short while later we go from inch long sherd to this…

Not this 100% precisely, but near as dammit. Image nicked from this website here.

So there we go – from muddy sherd to teacup in a few minutes. It’s amazing how much information can be retrieved from just a small fragment. But honestly though, all sherds have a similar story to tell, and each one can give us all the information, we just have to look and listen. Now, your turn! Go for a walk through Harehills, or Manor Park, or indeed anywhere else where there are herds of sherds, pick one up, and see if you can find the story. Let me know how you get on.

Right, that’s all for this time, and I hope you enjoyed it. I’d like to say I’ll make up for my absence by posting lots more soon, but I don’t want to set myself up to fail, and cause more pressure for myself. More is coming, though: I have a much bigger pottery post which is almost done, but I’ll wait a little while before posting it. Also, I have some big news in the pipeline. BIG news, to be honest… so watch this space.

In the meantime look after yourselves and each other. And remember that if someone says they’re “alright”, they might not be. We all need a little help from time to time.

Until next time, I remain,

Your humble servant.

TCG

Updates: Of Dates, Spoons, and Other Bits.
Archaeology

Updates: Of Dates, Spoons, and Other Bits.

Tim Campbell-Green2 Comments

What ho, and, if I might say, a happy new year to you all!

A somewhat chaotic mixed bag this week as its essentially a series of updates of previous posts. But fear not gentle readers, there is pottery here, too. Oh yes, don’t you worry about that. On with the show, then…

A SPOON

A while back I received a strange gift in the form of a spoon left on the wall outside my house. I blogged about it here, but here is a reminder:

Wow, it was sunny day when I took this photograph

I noted that the numbers might have been a way to prevent the theft of the spoon from the Beehive pub. Well now, that’s clearly nonsense, and I have been something of a blockhead (I said “blockhead“, thank you very much), and it took the wonderful Sandra T to point out what should have been obvious – they are military identification numbers, corresponding to an individual soldier.

So I did a little digging (a poor pun, fully intended… please accept my apologies), and indeed it is a WWI military issued spoon. The makers – Walker and Hall of Sheffield – and the spoon design, both check out; millions of this type and design were issued to soldiers, made by a variety of manufacturers. The date of roughly 1880-1920 similarly checks out. Now, the markings. It should be noted that there is no ‘Broad Arrow‘ mark on the spoon, which is something that was put on anything related to the military. This is unusual, but not unknown – an individual spoon maker, hand stamping thousands of these things a day, is bound to make a mistake or two – or it may well have been a replacement spoon for one our man lost. The Service Number is the interesting part, as it could potentially identify the man himself – a name to a spoon, so to speak – and give us a little history. Alas, they are jumbled, with some seemingly upside down, and so far I have not been able to identify the person that used them. They seem to read:

5 4 6/9(upside down?) 6/9(upside down?) 3(upside down) 2

I may be wrong, and please, feel free to have a look yourselves – I’d love to give a name to the owner.

One final aspect of the spoon convinces me that this it is a WWI issued: the shape of the bowl. I had thought that the lob-sided nature indicated use-wear by a right handed person, but according to this forum, inhabited by all sorts of experts, it was deliberately done by many soldiers in order to enable the standard rounded spoon reach the more square corners of a mess tin. So there you go.

As to why it was in a wall… I don’t know. It may simply have been mischievous or bored activity – pointless and mindless, but something we have all done. But it feels more purposeful, and I am reminded of the blacksmith in the village of Catwick in Yorkshire, who nailed to the doorpost of his forge coins given to him by the 30 soldiers from the village going off to war, all arranged around a horseshoe. The coins represented each of the soldiers, leaving a little of themselves in their rural home, and the horseshoe luck. This can be considered an act of sympathetic magic, however half-hearted or jokingly done, conjured by a blacksmith, an individual who folklore already imbues with magical power. Interestingly, Catwick is one of only 53 villages in England known as ‘Thankful Villages‘ in that every man who went off to war, came back alive. Perhaps the magic worked? Was our spoon perhaps placed in the wall by our man as a way of leaving something of him behind, in order that he would return unharmed? And if so, did it work I wonder? I hope it did.

DATESTONES

So, the great datestone list has expanded… by three for Whitfield, and several more for surrounding areas. I’ll stick with Whitfield for now, though.

Pikes Farm, Pikes Lane.

Pikes Farm, then. A date of 1780, and the intitials S. W. which, according to the original Robert Hamnett, belong to Samuel Wagstaff. And who are we to argue with that. I like the flourish with which the ‘8’ has been carved, not completed so that it looks almost like an ‘S’. Pikes Farm is interesting; it sits on the line of the Roman Road from the fort of Navio at Brough, near Castleton, and was connected by trackway to Dinting and Simmondley. It is such a prime location that I find it difficult to believe that people waited until 1780 to build a farmhouse there, and I suspect the location is a lot older.

Alas, no photograph. It is set far off the road, and although I tried, my phone’s zoom is not great. And strangely, people take a dim view of random Herberts wandering over their land and taking photographs. So instead, like any other sane and normal person, I sat in the car on the road and, using binoculars, I drew the datestone (…and that, Your Honour, is what I was doing when police Constable Jones wandered over.) . The date is 1772, the letters are R S M W – perhaps Robinson? Not sure, and Mr Hamnett can’t help us here, alas.

This next datestone illustrates why caution is sometimes needed in using datestones

The date of 1657

Whitfield Barn is on Cross Cliffe, the old trackway. As the name suggests it is a converted barn with probable farm house attached (another example of a ‘laithhouse’, that is a building made up of a house, barn, and byre/shippon in one). The stone is modern, and whilst the building is old (1750 – 1800, say), it doesn’t look like one built in the mid 17th century. Now, I’m not suggesting anything is incorrect, and it is likely that the building has a core that is of that date, and that the owners simply had a stone carved to reflect that. Indeed, if you look closely, you can see a number of different building phases. In particular just below the roof, where the upper floor has been raised, you can see the original roof line marked out in a line of stone.

Whitfield Barn, Cross Cliffe.

However, what if the owners were incorrect and mis-read an old deed? Or worse, anyone can commission a stone to be carved with any date they fancy. I’m certainly not saying that this is the case here, just using it to illustrate that there can be problems if we rely on a stone for a face value date. However, if we take that date as legitimate (which I am sure it is), then it provides us with a handy terminus ante quem for the track – the track goes past the house not to it, which implies the house was built after the track, so the track must already have been there in 1657.

I think these local tracks are largely medieval in date, and form a network that enabled people to move between the settlements that made up the Glossop dispersed settlement. And as time went on, more land was freed up, and new farmsteads sprang up along these routes. Thus, along this trackway that starts in Whitfield at the bottom of Cliffe Road, we see Whitfield Barn, Carr House, White House (with a side track taking in Jumble and Lower Jumble Farms). And, it follows, if we know where the original destination was, we can suggest an early date for that. The answer here is The Hurst on Derbyshire Level. Hurst is from the Anglo Saxon Hyrst, meaning ‘wooded hillock’, and which probably describes the hill immediately south-east of The Hurst. It is first mentioned as Whytfylde Hurse in the Feet of Fines in 1550, but an earlier date might be suggested by the rounded or ‘lobate’ shape of surrounding fields, indicative possibly of assarting (the process of converting forest into arable land), and what, to this untrained eye, looks very like ridge and furrow in the fields surrounding it. Both of these are largely medieval practices, and together could be quite telling. Hmmmmmm… I think The Hurst area needs a bit more looking into!

A CARVED CROSS

I blogged about a mystery white stone with a cross carved on it ages ago. I suspect that it (the stone, not the cross) is to protect the house from horse-drawn traffic, but why it has a cross on it, I still have no idea. Some months ago, though, I was sitting having a pint at the Beehive waiting to meet Mrs C-G, and vaguely staring at the wall ahead of me (I do love a nice bit of old walling!) when suddenly this came into focus:

The cross, worn, but definitely carved. As seen from the benches outside the Beehive. Cheers!

Given that it is on the same road, not 100 yards from the white stone, and carved in the same rough but deliberate way, it surely can’t be a coincidence… can it? The house on which it is carved – 61 Hague Street – also has a datestone of 1773, which provides us with a nice terminus post quem (the opposite of a terminus ante quem – a date after which it must have happened) – it can’t have been carved before 1773 as the building didn’t exist.

Nope, it’s all a bit strange, but I love a mystery.

And finally… yup, you guessed it. Drum roll please…

SOME POTTERY… BUT NOT LOTS!

A single sherd found between the setts of Bank Lane, Tintwistle, right by Bottoms Reservoir.

The sherd in-situ, nestled between the setts.

Nothing too interesting. I mean it’s a nice sherd of Transfer Printed Ware – probably a bowl, as it has flowers printed on the interior and the exterior.

Late Victorian pale blue & white. More delicate than the usual harsh blue stuff.

It is also unlikely to have been dropped in the last 100 years or so, and has thus laid there, between the cracks, just waiting for a dashing young(ish) and handsomely moustachioed archaeologist to find it. I was going to make this a full on pottery post, but it’s already too long, so the pottery will have to be next week, or so. I know, I know, but good things come to those who wait. And whoever is crying and yelling “no, no, dear lord please not next time” – you must try and control your excitement.

A TINTWISTLIAN TRACKWAY

However, back on track, and it’s Bank Lane that proves the focus, the sherd was just a way of getting onto the subject! This is a really interesting trackway, and is one of the two original (probably medieval) ways into Tintwistle from Hadfield, and before the Woodhead Pass bisected it (this stretch was made and improved in 1844 – look at that, another terminus ante quem!), it would have linked up with Bank Brow to get to the heart of the village. Incidentally, the other trackway goes via Lambgates, Roughfield, under the reservoir, and enters at the east of Tintwistle).

From the National Libraries of Scotland map site. Thank you.

So, Bank Lane then. It curves up, and just before it reaches the Woodhead Road, it runs below the retaining wall of Christ Church, Tintwistle.

A nice bit of walling, that.

As I said above, I do love a nice old wall, and I’m always aware that there might be interesting details hidden in them… and so it proved to be the case here. Firstly, I spotted this date:

Rather fancily carved, and definitely not the product of my imagination!

I think it reads 1841. Now Christ Church was built in 1837, is it possible that the wall was put in place 4 years later, perhaps replacing an older one? On balance, I think yes, but a quick rummage through the church records might reveal some detail.

And then I noticed this:

Is it? I think yes, but I might be just seeing too much into it.

I am fairly certain that this is a set of initials, carved messily but cursively into the stone. I have made an attempt to outline what I think they are, but honestly it is entirely possible that I am just seeing things. I’ll let you, dear and gentle reader, decide for yourselves.

I mean… perhaps?

Possibly it reads ‘J. B’. Possibly?

And finally, another carved cross. This one looks more modern, and perhaps is a mark for where some utility is under the road? Not sure.

Possibly interesting?

Anyway, Bank Lane deserves a closer look. I have a whole ongoing project that is looking at these ‘original’ trackways that linked all the farmsteads in the area, as many are still preserved. It’s way more than a single blog post, but I’d like to do a series – examining each trackway, photographing it, marking it on the map, and recording any finds. Oooooh, that sounds exciting, I know.

Finally…

WHITFIELD GUIDE STOOP

I have blogged about the guide stoop several times before, as it’s a vital part of the history of the area, and presents something of a mystery – please read here and here for the full lowdown.

The guide stoop.

At the start of lockdown, I went on a walk past the guidestoop, and was horrified. Someone had had some work done in their back garden which required the rebuilding of the back wall and the removal of a large amount of soil. Whoever was doing this work had spread the soil along the track, at the bottom of the wall, and had completely buried the guide stoop in 2ft of earth. I mean, benefit of the doubt, they might not have noticed it. Here’s what it looks like currently:

Under here, somewhere.

If they did see it, however, then they were morons, and I just hope they kept the guide stoop in position, and didn’t steal it. Now, I haven’t re-excavated it yet for two reasons. Firstly, it’s a lot of earth, and a lot of brambles! And secondly, I’m not entirely certain where the guide stoop actually is under all that! all my photographs are of it in closeup, rather than a long view that gives a location in relation to the upper part of the wall. So, I have a favour to ask. Well, two actually. Firstly, does anyone have a long view that shows the top of the wall and the guide stone they could let me see? And secondly, does anyone fancy meeting up with a shovel, so we can dig the thing out and once again have back it on display? It shouldn’t be too much of a job. Anyway, drop me a line if you fancy volunteering.

Right, after that mammoth post, I’m going for a lie down! I will post the pottery in the next week or so – it’s largely written, and the photographs are ready to go, so it won’t take long… I can feel the wave of excitement from here.

Until then, look after yourselves, and each other. And I remain,

Your humble servant,

TCG

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.6 – Porcelain & Bone China.
Archaeology · Pottery · Pottery Guide

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.6 – Porcelain & Bone China.

Tim Campbell-Green3 Comments

What ho, wonderful folk, what ho!

We have today yet another instalment of that momentous work The Rough Guide to Pottery – it truly is the gift that keeps on giving. Try to contain your excitement, but I know it is difficult. Mrs Hamnett herself commented only the other day, as I was explaining the process of making a 17th century slip ware bowl, how lucky she was to have married me. And Master Hamnett runs and hides from me screaming “go away!” whenever I show him a lovely piece of stoneware… the playful scamp.

So then… Porcelain.

A modern Spode porcelain teacup and saucer – stolen shamelessly from their website here.

Here we stray into the realm of real ‘collectors’ and people who spend hundreds of thousands of pounds on a cup. Fair play to them I say, but to be honest, to me and you the minute details of rare and collectible porcelain don’t matter that much.

A Victorian pair of tea/coffee cups – £13 on ebay here (and no, they are not mine!)

True Porcelain was developed in China in the 9th century, and is essentially a very refined stoneware. It is often delicate with very thin walls – so thin that you can see light through them – yet is very hard wearing and tough. Its development was due to an aesthetic search to find a substance that was as hard and cold as jade, and yet gave a ringing tone when struck, like bronze. True Porcelain is made from a mixture of the mineral feldspar and kaolin, a type of clay, and fired to a very high temperature (1400°) which vitrifies (melts) it into an almost glass-like state. It was exported to Europe from 1500s onwards, and was hugely different to the coarse earthernwares that made up European pottery then; this stuff was incomparable (that thing your 3-year-old made using Playdoh versus the finest China).

The genuine thing; late 17th/early 18th century Chinese porcelain. A mere snip at £38,000!

Porcelain became very popular in the 17th and 18th centuries, particularly due to tea and coffee consumption among the wealthy being fashionable – essentially they wanted something similarly exclusive to drink out of. It honestly amazes me how much of history is driven by fashion and the need to be different and ahead of the crowd – something that isn’t going to change any time soon. 

Now, being imported from China meant it was hugely expensive, and many factories began to try and make it. However, no one really knew how it was done. Meisson in Germany began producing very similar pottery in the 1710’s, and others in Europe and the UK had early successes, often involving adding glass dust to fine clays. A significant breakthrough came in the mid 1790’s when Josiah Spode perfected what became known as Bone China. Here, a very fine clay is mixed with about 25% crushed burnt bone, and fired. This produced an almost identical porcelain, and it allowed the mass production of the pottery which is still going today. Also, as it became affordable, it was no longer an exclusive product despite still having a ‘classy’, even snobbish, image. Personally, I prefer an earthernware mug, but my grandparents generation would have scowled at my choice of cup. Now, at the risk of incurring the wrath of Porcelain experts, I’m lumping true imported Porcelain with Bone China here.

Does exactly what it says on the bottom on the early 20th century teacup

There are no perceptible differences at the level at which we are working, nor is it vital that we pinpoint a date of something – we are simply having fun (admittedly some of us take our fun more seriously than others who, for example, don’t clean their pottery. Or who use an egg as a photographic scale. I’m not naming names, you know who you are.). If you do want to go down that rabbit hole, there are dozens of books on the subject that allow you to explore dates, patterns, shapes, types, names, etc. However, for our purposes, it all goes under the heading PORCELAIN. I expect a visit from the heavy thugs of the porcelain collecting world within moments of publishing this.

PORCELAIN (aka Bone China, China)
DATE: Realistically c.1800 – Now. Theoretically, but unlikely, 1500 onwards.
DESCRIPTION: Thin walled vessels, delicate, with many different decorative motifs and colours, occasionally with gilding.
SHAPES: Most shapes, but very commonly tea/coffee cups, saucers, small plates.

Very thin walls, but is very hard, especially when compared with ‘normal’ pottery. The fabric is white or very pale grey, with perhaps a hint of blue, and with no inclusions – it is pure. The texture is very glassy, and is grainy with tiny voids – it reminds me of cauliflower heads, or snow. See this comparison with earthernware, for example:

Porcelain left, earthernware right (my bare foot, bottom right… it’s probably for the best we move on, really). The difference in the fabrics is very noticeable, it’s almost wet(porcelain) versus dry (earthernware).

It also breaks like glass or flint, rather than pottery, with tiny flattish flakes and sharp edges.

It’s odd stuff! You can see how it breaks into flakes, and I remember reading about Australian Aboriginal tribes using telegraph wire insulators to make stone tools. Makes sense.

Banging sherds together, they make a high ringing sound – a ‘tink’, rather than a ‘thunk’ if you see what I mean (don’t look at me like that…). Also, if you hold a sherd up to a light, you should be able to see through it – try moving a finger between the sherd and the light source. The surface is very shiny with the glaze visible in the section as a clear white line, often with the paint of the decoration bleeding into it. Decoration is fine hand-painted images, normally in blue, though other colours are found, and normally of naturalistic scenes – flowers, landscapes, trees, etc. The start of the obsession with ‘Chinese’ decorations (including ‘Willow Pattern’) can be traced to the original porcelain vessels. Shapes are largely bowls, delicate teacups, plates and saucers, though teapots, milk jugs, and other shapes do occur. Other decoration can be painted over the top of the glaze. Later examples of Porcelain/Bone China can be very colourful, and very fine, too, often with a gold leaf gilding.

A random selection of Glossop found sherds of porcelain showing a range of decoration. I have to say, it’s all a little gaudy for my tastes.
This is more like it – a flowing, living, painted decoration – fluid lines, almost jazz-like in improvisation. Lovely stuff. I found this tiny sherd in the River Thames a few years ago, and it is one of my favourite sherds. Blimey, now there’s a phrase I never expected to type!

Now, because I love you so much, and I know how much you enjoy my ramblings about pottery (I’m ignoring you – you don’t have to be here, you know), I thought I’d add another related ware type.

Whilst searching for an easy Porcelain recipe, Wedgewood made numerous innovations in pottery (including the famous Jasper Ware), one of which was Basalt Ware. Although it is rare, I love this stuff.

Some Black Basalt Ware. As I say, I really like this stuff.

BLACK BASALT WARE (aka Basalt Ware or Basaltes)
DATE: 1770-1820
DESCRIPTION: It is characterised by a black surface, thin walls, and impressed – not painted – decoration. Very classical Greek and Roman influenced motifs and designs.
SHAPES: Cups, Bowls, Tea & Coffee Sets, Vases, Busts, Plaques, Figurines, and Relief Medallions.

A red clay is mixed with manganese oxide, which gives it its black colour, and it is fired to a very high temperature to make a refined stoneware. It is hard-wearing, and, like porcelain, doesn’t break like ‘normal’ pottery, but more like glass, with straightish sharp edges. The fabric is very hard and very dense, as you would expect, and is totally uniform – there are no inclusions – but it is quite grainy, again, like porcelain. The gloss surface can be dull or shiny, though never a brilliant shine, and there is no glaze or surface; the fabric is the pot, which seems odd.

Here is the fabric – hard and grainy, but there is no surface. You can also see the voids that are formed by gasses produced during firing.
Impressed decoration, very Classical in inspiration.
More impressed decoration – this time the base of a tree or shrub.

Thin walled, it has impressed and embossed decoration – rouletting, geometric shapes, naturalistic scenes with classical motifs and flora. It looks vaguely Roman, and is very heavily influenced by the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian antiquities that were being unearthed at that time, and which were fuelling the Georgian neo-classical obsession in all aspects of life. As a pottery type it’s not common, but you can occasionally find it here and there.

Well then, excitement over. That’s all for this time.

There is lots in the pipeline – both Glossop related, and further afield – so watch this space, and as always I have several large posts ready written – so perhaps two this month? You lucky people, you!

I also have a thing coming up – one of this public speaking things that I can’t seem to stop doing! This one is in Chester, and is a folklore/archaeology ‘discussion’ with the wonderful Elizabeth Garner, and called ‘The Gold In Your Back Yard‘. It’s free, but do book through Eventbrite here. It will, of course, be amazing… I think. But if not, you can just sit at the back and ask awkward questions! I’ll also shamelessly plug Liz’s book, Lost and Found (buy it here). It is a wonderful collection of folktales, beautifully told. She also mentions this archaeologist bloke, Tim Campbell-something-or-other. Honestly though, it is well worth buying.

More soon, I promise. But until then, look after yourselves and each other. And I remain,

Your Humble Servant,

TCG

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.5 – Blue and White Bits.
Archaeology · Pottery Guide

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.5 – Blue and White Bits.

Tim Campbell-Green7 Comments

Look, it’s no use yelling “for the love of Jove, not more bloody pottery!” No one is forcing you to be here. Honestly, I haven’t even started yet, and here you are, giving your two penn’orth.

What ho! Wonderful readers. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

A quick one today – Part 5 of my best-selling, most talked about book of the year, Booker Prize shortlisted Guide to Bits of Old Pot. I have a brace of posts almost ready to go, but to keep you going I thought I’d publish this. Enjoy.

TRANSFER PRINTED WARE (aka Willow Pattern, Blue & White)
DATE: 1800 – Now
DESCRIPTION: A cobalt blue pattern or image on a white background. Also, red, brown, black, or green.
SHAPES: Any and all vessel shapes – from delicate tea cups to whacking great soup tureens – literally everything.

Ah yes… Transfer Printed Ware. If you are going to find pottery, this is the stuff you’ll find, and in particular the ‘Willow Pattern’ pottery. It dominated the 19th century, and arguably a large portion of the 20th – it is everywhere. I have actually dreaded writing this part of the guide, probably because of the quantity of material, but also I’m worried that it might not appeal to all of you (*sigh, yes I know it doesn’t appeal to you. And look here, there’s no need to use language like that… there are ladies present, and calling me a “honking tallywacker” is hardly becoming of a gentleman.”). But it turns out that it’s exactly the sort of thing appeals to (most of) my readers.

As we have covered previously, 18th & 19th century potters were trying to find the perfect blue and white decoration on a perfect white background to match the desirable Porcelain being imported from China. Tin Glazed Pottery (or Delft) certainly filled that gap, but it really wasn’t perfect. An easier form of decoration was wanted, and the idea of transfer printing began to take shape in roughly 1750, being applied to Porcelain only at this point. It was in about 1785 that the process successfully began to be applied to earthernware, being perfected by that wizard of English pottery, Josiah Spode.

A random selection of Blue & White Transfer Printed pottery.

The process is relatively simple if a little convoluted. Firstly, an image was engraved in a copper plate, as was done for book illustrations at the time, and applied to an oiled tissue paper using a cobalt ink – this being the only colour at the time that would survive the firing process. This is the ‘transfer’. Next, a vessel is ‘biscuit’ fired – that is fired without glaze, and at a lower temperature, to make it hard and able to take the transfer print. The transfer paper is then pressed onto the surface of the vessel, with the ink absorbed in the fabric. The pot is then fired a second time to remove oils and fix the ink into the clay body. Next, a glaze is applied, and then it is fired a third and final time. Originally applied to Creamware, then Pearlware, it became a standard decoration for White Ware, and by 1820 TPW was everywhere, and being used for all sorts of images. A brown ink was developed in roughly 1835, a green chrome ink in 1850, and a red ink at about this time, too.

Various coloured Transfer Printed plates. And of varying quality.

Eventually a technique for multi colour printing was developed by the pottery factory F.R. Pratt, allowing full images to be put onto vessels from late 19th century on.

Pratt’s development meant that anything could be printed in any colour. These date to very late Victorian and early 20th Century.

A technique called ‘Flow Blue’ was perfected around 1800, in which the cobalt blue transfer print was deliberately smudged or blurred. The pot is prepared as normal, but during the firing a ‘flow powder’ (a mixture of 22% salt, 40% white lead, 30% calcium carbonate, and 8% borax) was added into the kiln, giving off a chlorine gas which caused the cobalt to diffuse or blur into the glaze.

Flow Blue. For some reason, I just couldn’t take a good photograph of this. I must have spent 20 minutes getting more and more frustrated, taking endless shots of just this scene. To be honest, even looking at it now makes me angry.

Sometimes this changed into a more purple colour, termed ‘Mulberry’, occasionally it was highlighted with gold.

My only piece of Mulberry Flow Blue.

Flow Blue’s popularity peaked around mid-century, and as a style lasted until perhaps 1900. The more extreme blurred examples may have been sold as cheaply as ‘seconds’, and were thus popular with the poorer market. Indeed, for many years I just thought that Flow Blue style was just really badly made TPW, and only fairly recently did I discover that it was deliberate.

In terms of decoration, I don’t know where to begin; from classical scenes to commemorative plates, souvenirs from castles, to children’s rhymes – literally anything and everything was inked onto the vessels. You may get lucky and find a name or a date, or a maker’s mark from the underside of a plate. Or it may just be a pattern from the edge. The classic is of course the ‘Willow Pattern’, with its spurious story of lovers turned into birds. This was, and still is, reproduced in huge numbers: it is everywhere. In fact, so common was this pattern that it is used – incorrectly – as a short hand for all Blue & White pottery.

The actual Willow Pattern – image from Wikipedia.

Theoretically, though, given infinite time and patience, one could identify and date any sherd using the wealth of pattern books that were kept by the factories that made them, but even for a certified sherd nerd such as myself, that way madness lies!

Transfer Printed Ware began life as a prestigious and very exclusive pottery type, with the early stuff being of incredibly high quality. Once it began to be mass produced, as always happens, the quality began slipping, until the lower end of the market was cheaply produced and sold for next to nothing. This produced some shoddy designs and duff workmanship; sometimes you can see where the transfer has slipped, where bits overlie each other or don’t join in the pattern as they should. I do like these mistakes – I think it adds a human touch.

At first glance, quite attractive – bees and flowers, what’s not to love. But look closely – it’s blurred, there are smudges, blobs, lines stop and start, patterns don’t meet. This is budget pottery of the lowest order. I love it!

Allied to Transfer Printed Ware, although not actually transfer printed, is this stuff:

SHELL EDGED WARE (aka Feather Edged/Edge)
DATE: 1780 – 1890
DESCRIPTION: Plain white bowl or plate rim decorated with crinkly ‘feathering’ and painted blue (occasionally green).
SHAPES: Plates, wide rimmed soup bowls, tureens.

This type of decoration is very distinct, and was fairly common in the late 18th and early-mid 19th centuries making it a frequent find. Once seen, it never forgotten.

A varied selection of Shell Edged Ware. You can see the blue-tinged Pearlware of some of these sherds, dating them to roughly pre-1830. I also realised I don’t have any green edged sherds.

Essentially a plain white bowl or plate – Creamware, Pearlware, or Whiteware – is decorated on the rim edge with a feathered type decoration in cobalt blue or, less commonly, chrome green. The rim may or may not be undulating, and the feathering may or may not be impressed into the clay, but it is always painted to look feathered or shell-like. I seem to be a magnet for this stuff, but it’s always a welcome find.

Lovely shot. You can see the cobalt blue edge, and impressed decorative ‘feathering’ that here has been filled with the blue tinged glaze that makes up Pearlware. I improved the shot by cropping out my gnarled bare feet that were visible at the bottom of the photo.

Interestingly, there seems to have been a development in the style, allowing a broad date to be given to some sherds. This is based on American data – much of this ware type was exported, and there was some serious work done on dating it – and I’m not sure how applicable it is in England. Chronologically then:

Type 1 (1775-1810)

Asymmetrical scalloped rim, impressed curved lines (not straight), blue/green edging (feathering).

Type 1. I must add that I don’t own the rights to this, or any of the following images, and cannot now recall from where I stole them, shamelessly as always. Apologies if it is your image.

Type 2 (1800-1830’s)

Symmetrical scalloped rim, impressed curved or straight lines, blue/green edging.

Type 2

3) 1820’s-1830’s

Symmetrical scalloped rim, impressed curved or straight lines, embossed decoration below – garlands, flowers, wheat, feathers, etc. blue/green edging

Type 3

Type 4 (1840’s – 1860’s)

Unscalloped rim, impressed curved or straight lines, normally blue edging, not green.

Type 4

5) 1860’s – 1890’s

Scalloped rim, no impressed lines – the paint is applied to make it look like impressing. Blue edging.

Type 5

As I say, the academic rigour is there, but whether this is a ‘true’ chronology rather than reflecting deposition dates (that is the date which the pottery was manufactured, as opposed to the date ended up in the ground – which, given I still use my grandmother’s stoneware pie dish to cook with, could be as much as 100 years or more), I couldn’t possibly comment. And here we stray into the strange realm of archaeological pottery studies; I could talk it all day, but I fear some of you may become violent, and nothing takes the shine off a chap’s day like an angry mob.

Right, I think that’s all for today. I do have more pottery to publish, but I might save that for another time – I don’t want to over-egg the pudding, so to speak.

More soon, but until then look after yourselves and each other, and I remain.

Your humble servant,

RH

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.4 – Creamware, Pearlware, & Whiteware.
Archaeology · Pottery · Pottery Guide

The Rough Guide to Pottery Pt.4 – Creamware, Pearlware, & Whiteware.

Tim Campbell-Green6 Comments

What ho, dear and gentle readers, what ho!

How are we all? I hope everyone is well. Or, at the very least, not actively unwell. Well, all except you, that is. Yes you… you know who you are. The “all pottery is dull as dish soap” chap… Mr Shouty-Outy. I hope you stub your toe really hard.

Anyway, with such unpleasantness out of the way, we can move on to the subject of today’s article. Ladies and gentlefolk, may I introduce to you… Creamware, Pearlware, and Whiteware.

Now, even for a certifiable pottery nerd such as myself, this is far from a riveting subject. I mean, it’s less ‘edge of your seat’, and more slump down the back of the sofa in a fashion that causes people to enquire as to whether one is alright, and mutter concernedly about ‘strokes’ and ‘comas’. But before you agree with Mr Shouty-Outy, and start tying a noose, pause, crack open a bottle of the stuff that cheers, and have a read, as the above three pottery types will form a large part of any pottery you find, and is an important part of the development of British pottery.

The history of British pottery since roughly the mid 17th century can perhaps be characterised as the pursuit of white. Once imports of Chinese porcelain began, with their pure white fabrics and background, and blue painted patterns, we Brits fell in love with the design. But the problem was that it was very, very, expensive, and far out of the price-range of the developing aspirational middle classes, who were seeking to copy the upper classes. We copied the designs and colouring in beautiful Tin Glazed or Delft wares, and made some incredibly fine pottery in what is called Fine White Stoneware (you’ll be pleased to note that both of these will feature in future pottery guides; oh look, that woman over there is so excited about that, she is literally screaming with joy). But with the mid 18th century explosion in tea and coffee consumption, there was increasing demand for a cheaply produced white background upon which decoration might be painted or printed.

The following three types – Creamware, Pearlware, and Whiteware – were developed as these backgrounds. It is unlikely that you will come across them on their own (though not impossible), it is more likely you will say “What ho! I say, that looks like blue and white transfer printed decoration on a Pearlware background” which should, if you use the guide the right way, give a date for your sherd, and make you feel warm, fuzzy, and happy. And a little smug that you know things. Unfortunately, though, it will make other people angry and beg/threaten you to stop talking. No? Just me? Ahem… anyway.

CREAMWARE (aka Queen’s Ware)
DATE: 1760’s – 1820’s
DESCRIPTION: A pale cream colour ‘white’.
SHAPES: A huge number of shapes – from the plain bowl and plate, to wonderful pierced vases, decorative vessels, and truly strange designs.

Developed by, among others, Josiah Wedgewood – the great 18th century potter – in the 1760’s, and by the 1780’s was so popular that it essentially killed off both White Stoneware and Tin-Glazed pottery production. Wedgewood attained royal patronage by supplying a tea set to Queen Charlotte, wife of George III, who later commissioned a 925 piece dinner service; he renamed his Creamware ‘Queen’s Ware’ in her honour. Shape wise, it occurs in every conceivable pottery type – from regular plates and bowls, to rare and fancy shapes – pierced vases, delicate jugs, salt and sugar shakers, ice buckets, etc. Some of the vessels were also moulded with ornate naturalistic shapes – leaves, plants, etc.

Fancy pierced shapes. Courtesy of Salisbury Museum.

It is also very decorative. Commonly with a blue and white transfer print, but also hand painted with pictures, words, and designs.

A two-handed loving cup, hand painted. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Two sherds of Creamware. The one on the right is particularly nice – a lid to a jug or similar with a moulded leaf design on the top.

Because the shape of the vessel is moulded, it means that it has very thin walls (the nice stuff does at least), but it also means that it can be very decorative, with all sorts of complex applied designs.

The fabric is a pale creamy white, achieved by mixing Kaolin, a very fine white clay, into the regular earthernware clay. This already pale clay base is then coated in a lead glaze mixed with copper, and fired producing the pale butter colour. Where the glaze has pooled whilst drying before being fired – usually on the base – you can sometimes see a greenish tint (the copper), which is a tell-tale sign of Creamware.

The greenish hue of the glaze can be seen where it has pooled in between the leaves.

It is also noticeably cream-coloured when compared with other white sherds. Creamware’s popularity waned after 1800, when it was overtaken by Pearlware, a cheaper, more pure white version of it.

PEARLWARE (aka Pearl White, or China Glaze)
DATE: 1780’s – 1820’s
DESCRIPTION: A blusish ‘white’.
SHAPES: Seemingly more utilitarian than the Creamware, but still a large range; so plates, bowls, dishes, jugs, cups, tankards, & goblets.

Pearlware is a refinement of Creamware, developed again by Wedgewood, in the 1780’s. It is almost like a less fussy, less fine, and more robust version, and there seems to be far fewer of the pierced vessels, ornateness, and incredibly detailed moulding. It does occur moulded, especially in tankards and Feather-Edged dishes, but it is less common than in Creamware. This may reflect the fashion of the time – a move toward simplicity – but equally it could be that Pearlware was conceived as more utilitarian.

The blueish tint of the glaze is obvious against the black background, and especially compared with the white clay.

The whiteness in Pearlware was achieved by adding cobalt – a blue mineral – to the lead glaze, giving an almost blue glow to the pottery – a sort of trick of the eye. Again, the blueness is particularly noticeable where the glaze has pooled, often on the underside.

Here you can see the cobalt blue colouring to the glaze where it has pooled on the underside of this mug. This is a badly made mug, and the glaze has over-fired in places.

In terms of decoration, it could be hand painted – either as a pattern, or just the edges in Feather-Edged Ware (see the example in the photo above). However, it is more commonly encountered as a base for transfer printed decorative motifs – willow pattern and the like. It was also commonly used as a base for Industrial Slipwares (discussed here in Part 3 of the guide). Pearlware began to fall out of favour in the 1820’s, and was superseded by the development of Whiteware.

WHITEWARE
DATE: 1820’s – Now
DESCRIPTION: White fabric, with a white glaze.
SHAPES: Quite literally every shape.

Characterised by a very white fabric, with a white glaze, upon which all sorts of patterns and motifs were put; this is essentially the stuff that we eat from now. If you are uncertain, go into your kitchen, get a plate from Ikea, break it, and have a look at the break. That’s Whiteware.

Cobalt use declined in the early 1800’s, perhaps due to difficulty and expense of obtaining it, but this coincided with the process of chemically refining the clay to produce a purer white becoming easier. And this, combined with better glazes, meant that a perfect white background colour could now be achieved. And not much has changed 200 years later. Well, apart from the fact the glaze now has less lead in it… which is nice. Decoration is, well, everything we can think of – painted, sponged, transfer printed – and is pictures, patterns, or words. This stuff is very, very, common, and largely boring even by my standards, but sometimes, precisely because it was used for all sorts of things, it throws up a gem or two.

A selection of 19th and early 20th century printed sherds on Whiteware. This stuff is always a joy to find.

HOW TO TELL THEM APART.

Should you want to know which sherd is of what type, for whatever reason (and we don’t judge on this website), then it would be very helpful to put them on a plain white piece of paper under a bright light. In this environment, Creamware will appear pale cream coloured, Pearlware will appear blue-ish tinged, and Whiteware will simply blend in – like so:

The three types together: from left, Creamware, Pearlware, Whiteware.

So now you know.

Now, I admit that this wasn’t the most fascinating article (look it’s no use sobbing… I don’t force you to read the blog), but it is an important one in that it builds a more complete picture of post-medieval pottery, and means that you now know what I mean when I say Pearlware. I’ll leave it to you to decide whether that is a good thing or not.

That’s all for now. I have about another six half-finished articles which I will get around to completing very soon, including ‘magical protection‘, ‘quarries‘, ‘holed stones‘, ‘tracks‘, ‘updates‘, and your favourite and mine… some more pottery, but I’ll spare you that until later.

Right, until the next time, look after yourselves and each other, and I remain.

Your humble servant,

RH.

A Green-Fingered Garden Grab*
Archaeology · Pottery · Whitfield

A Green-Fingered Garden Grab*

Tim Campbell-GreenLeave a comment

*Ok, so I couldn’t think of a better title.

What ho, what ho, what ho!

So, right now, as we hurtle toward the solstice, is my favourite time of the year. Spring into summer – the days are long, my birthday is hoving into view (19th July, if anyone is interested… and a dark fruity red, if anyone is feeling flush). It also means time spent in the garden, planting and preparing the soil. Hamnett Towers is blessed with a small back garden (utterly destroyed by chickens… honestly, it looks like the Western Front), and a slightly larger front garden where the vegetables are planted. Both of these forces of nature – chicken and man – excavate all sorts of goodies. Predictably, I have kept everything I have found, and kept them separate; Hamnett Towers was at one point two separate ‘back-to-back’ terraced houses, so the archaeology of either side might tell a slightly different story (old archaeological habit). And so far, this year has produced some very interesting bits.

So, please join me in the garden. Ah, sorry, no shorts or baseball caps please – this is an English gentleman’s abode; t-shirts I can just about cope with, but I mean, a chap has to have standards dash it!

Here’s the day’s findings from the front garden:

A selection of the history of the land the garden has decided to show us this year… so far.

Let’s start with the nail – a Victorian, hand-made, copper roof nail, to be precise. I’m something of a magnet for these things, and they seem to find me wherever I go. They are truly mundane – the nail that holds on a roof tile – and yet are such lovely and tactile things (I’ve blogged about them before – here – FIVE years ago… blimey!). Copper was used as it is largely resistant to corrosion, and their square section is a dead giveaway of age.

Lovely green verdegris competes with rust (the result of it lying next to something iron based) on the surface.

They are made relatively simply, but by hand. Each nail is cut via a press from a long flattened strip of copper (thus the square body of the nail). It is then placed into a small mold or former, point down, and the exposed top is hammered by hand until it flattens out, forming the nail head. Close-up you can see the two flashing strips formed as the soft copper is driven between the halves of the mold.

A close up of the underside of the nail head, clearly showing the copper flashing.

The nail may have come from my house roof, which is a great thought.

Next to the nail is a sherd of spongeware, probably from a large bowl or shallow dish. I find a lot of this particular vessel in the garden, and I might have to try and reconstruct it sometime (follow the link above, 3rd photograph down, on the right for more of the same bowl).

Next row, a sherd of marmalade/preserve jar (here, for more information), and then two thoroughly uninspiring sherds of white glazed pottery. Then, this beauty!

Super. An amazing chance find whilst whilst putting in some pea and bean plants… half of which were eaten on the first night by what can only be imagined as a biblical plague of famished slugs – honestly, I swear I could hear a very slow moving rumbling sound. If you’ll pardon the French… Bastards!

Wonderful! A small bone button, and almost certainly Victorian in date. Delicate, handmade, and slightly off-centre, it is lovely. Again, something so mundane – every item of clothing would have had a dozen of these; will people be cooing over the zips in our trousers in 100 years? And yet, here we are, admiring it’s beauty. Bone was such a common substance in the pre-20th century, and we tend to shy away from it as a material now – how many of us would brush our teeth with a bone toothbrush? Or use bone game pieces? I think we have become a little squeamish. Yet, it was a major resource in history – so many animals, so much bone. Bone preserves very well in the right conditions, and although this has cracked with age, I bet it could be sewn on and used again.

Right then, the image of the Somme, c.1916, that is the back garden. There’s always something that turns up here, not all of it interesting, but usually worth a look. And this year is no exception, with a couple of very nice finds.

A rather motley looking collection, I must admit.

So then… top left we have bonfire glass. Essentially glass that has been melted in a fire. This may have been accidental, or just the result of rubbish disposal. Often Victorian and later rubbish dumps were set on fire to keep the rat population down, and bonfire glass can be quite pretty. This one… not so much.

It’s quite a cool object, but not particularly pretty.

Ignore the next sherd for the moment, and move onto the cream coloured stoneware sherd, possibly from a flask or other oval shaped vessel. Then we have some glass – it is quite chunky, which indicates it is old, but isn’t that lovely green colour, nor full of bubbles, that would indicate a Victorian date. Probably Early 20th century, and likely from a small bottle – perhaps medicine or similar.

Ignoring the other reddish coloured sherds, again for the moment, we have this beauty:

You can see the striations caused by wiping the red under-glaze slip with a wet rag – the marks of the potter preserved for eternity in clay. Lovely stuff!

This is often called Pancheon Ware, after the large (50cm+) pancheon bowls that were extremely common from the 17th century to the early Victorian period. The correct term should be Post Medieval Redware, but that covers a multitude of pottery types and shapes from c.1550s to the Victorian period, of which this is just one.

Essentially a large mixing bowl, bread proving bowl, or vessel to allow cream to separate from milk. This is a lovely antique example, the image of which was stolen from this website which sold it for £195.

They often occur in huge chunks up to 2cm thick, and are usually glazed only on the interior to make it waterproof. I’ve talked about them before, but this is a nice example, showing the red slip on the surface, and then the dark brown glaze, made by adding iron oxide to a lead glaze, producing the deep shiny colour. The glaze on this, as with many, has been allowed to slop over the side and stop just below the rim, producing a messy natural decoration (the example above shows the glaze stopping on the rim, but you can see the effect they are going for).

Below and right of this sherd there are 4 sherds of standard Victorian to mid 20th century whitewares nothing inspiring, or even particularly worth writing about, although there is a rim of a bone china cup. Below and left is a single fragment of a clay pipe stem. Again, nothing exciting – the hole, or bore, through the middle of the stem is narrow which tells us that it is Victorian in date (broadly, a wide bore = 17th to early 18th century, a narrow bore = late 18th to 19th century). Still, it’s a bit of social history… I just wish I could find a bowl!

Then there was the treasure! Occasionally, certainly not often, I find something made of metal. And a few weeks ago, as those who follow me on twitter will know, I found a metal button.

Tiny, just 1cm in diameter, and very delicate. Amazing it survived, to be honest. And even more amazing it was seen.

Well, no… credit where credit’s due – I didn’t find it, Master Hamnett did, with his six year old eagle eyes. A lovely little 2 eye brass button, probably Victorian in date. It’s probably from a child’s dress, probably something like this:

A heavy linen dress for a child. It is beautifully decorated with hand-made edging.

And if you look closely using a decent magnifying glass, rather than the dodgy macro setting on my phone, you can see the remains of the original cloth that would have covered it:

Amazing that the cloth has been preserved, trapped between the two sides of the button’s lip.

It would have looked like this when new:

Small and delicate, and lovingly sewn on.

The thing I love about this is that the child must have lived and grown up exactly where Master Hamnett is now, and doing many of the same things. There is real sense of connection to the past through a single, small and dirty, seemingly uninspiring object. By the way, the story of the Victorian child’s dress (one of several, I hasten to add) is for another time, but it is from a probable apotropaic cache that was donated to me for safekeeping. One of two I now curate. I really don’t have enough time to write all this up, so if someone want to donate a stack of cash to allow me to write, please feel free!

And now this, the real treasure. Quite literally, for once.

Gnarled is the word. I had no idea what it was when I picked it up.

I know at first glance it looks like something has blown it up, but look beyond that, and it’s a wonderful, if completely knackered, piece Victorian costume jewellery brooch. It’s missing just about everything, including the central glass stone, but would have been very pretty – probably looking something like this:

Picture stolen from this website… the brooch is still there. Honest, guv.

I didn’t know what it was when I picked it up, but it was that greyish green that indicated a copper alloy (brass or bronze, for example), and is something I always pick up. It was only when cleaning it that I noticed the paste stones.

You can see the cut paste stone in it’s setting, and all the other setting missing theirs. There are three stones still on the brooch, and very little else.

Amazing, really. And this was just a small amount of time poking around, getting really close and personal with the soil in my garden. And my garden is not unique by any stretch, not even close. I guarantee, every garden in Glossop – no, the country – will produce some treasure – whether it’s early Victorian annular ware from a house near the station, a broken bottle rim from a former pub, a pipe stem from a current pub, or a piece of Victorian child’s plate from a modern garden in Simmondley (all examples from experience). Obviously, I realise that not everyone is lucky enough to have a garden, but we all can access some green space. As an experiment, this evening, pour yourself a drop of the stuff that cheers, and go and sit on what ever patch of earth is closest to you. This may be your garden, or it might be a park, or someone else’s garden, a playing field, or public footpath, or whatever. Now sit down and take a deep breath, listen to the sounds – birds or traffic – tune in, and simply look around you. If you can, dig about a bit, and don’t be frightened of getting your hands dirty, either. With enough time, something will turn up. And please, mail me the results.

Right, that’s about it I think. Next time more pottery – essentially a part 2 to this post, looking at the pottery I told you to ignore above. A competition! If you can get back to me and tell me what they are, and why they are not our type of thing, before I can post the next article, you can win those bits of pottery. Woohoo! (Now look here, Mr Shouty… some people like pottery, you know. And no, I’m not “having a laugh“).

More very soon, but until then, look after yourselves and each other.

And I remain, your humble servant,

RH