Posts – Page 22 – Moorabool Antique Galleries

Posted on 21/01/202028/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg

Zangzhou Ceramics, Ming Dynasty

Formerly known as Swatow Wares….

A selection of Zangzhou pieces, either from the Binh Thuan wreck (1608) or of the exact type recovered from it in 2002.

Zangzhou (Changchow) is a major production centre for this type of distinct porcelain body, and appears to have been focused on the export market to South-East Asia in the 16th-17th century. Older literature discusses them as ‘Swatow’ or ‘Provincial’ Ming, but excavations in the 1950’s in Fujian Provence located numerous ceramic production centres, with Zangzhou on the Jiulong River giving the name to this category of ceramics.

The wares are varied, with blue & white, celadon, and polychrome enamels all appearing. The best way to examine the product is through the Binh Thuan Shipwreck, which was filled with tens of thousands of pieces from this source. This ship went down in circa 1608, and contained a large number of blue & white pieces, as well as enamelled wares and pieces with blue underglaze and enamelled colours overglaze. This rarely survives in good condition as it is vulnerable to wear, especially in the context of a shipwreck….

Fragile onlgaze colours on Zangzhou porcelain – the bowls at the back were once decorated like the rare example in the foreground, all from the Binh Thuan Shipwreck (1608), but seawater wears it off…. the example at the right has never been under the sea.

Sharp pebbles on the base of Zangzhou wares were to stop it sticking to the kiln during firing. Very dangerous on polished surfaces!

One way to recognise this product is through the firing technique; dishes & bowls were placed onto rough granitic sand, which allowed the pot to be safely removed from the kiln without sticking. In the shipwreck examples, this still survives in its original extent; in pieces that made it to market, this has been carefully removed prior to sale as it is extremely sharp!

See our Ming Ceramics here >>

Posted on 19/11/201928/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg

A connection with our earliest settlers…. and a formidable female farmer!

Old Sheffield Plate teapot with gadrooned half body and gadroon & leaf border, wooden handle, circa 1835.

Re-purposed in 1929 as a cattle Trophy Prize for the Royal Melbourne Show, inscribed as follows;

THE FRANK REYNOLDS MEMORIAL TROPHY / presented by AUSTRALIAN HEREFORD SOCIETY / best pair of yearling Bulls, MELBOURNE ROYAL SHOW 1929 / won by Mrs J BIDDLECOMBE / Golf Hill Royal Standard, Golf Hill Royal Sceptre.

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Janet Russel - later Biddlecombe - of Golf Hill, Victoria — Janet Russel – later Biddlecombe – of Golf Hill, Victoria, a work in the National Gallery of Victoria by Mathew William Webb, circa 1890

Mrs Janet Biddlecombe (1867-1954) was the daughter of George Russell, the well known settler who was one of the earliest in Victoria, claiming his ‘squat’ at Shelford (just north of Geelong) in 1836 and naming it ‘Golf Hill’. She was a private person who refused to let her gifts to charity be published – but was clearly a great patron of many things. In the last year of her life, she donated the contents of the historic ‘Golf Hill’ to the National Gallery of Victoria, and also many items to the Geelong Art Gallery. (An auction to clear the remainder was held in 1955, attended by a very young John Rosenberg!)

Janet Biddlecombe (Russel) 1939 — Janet Biddlecombe (Russel) with a prize bull at the 1939 Royal Melbourne Show

Janet Biddlecombe was the youngest daughter of eight children, and when the property passed to a brother who proved incapable of maintaining it, she was able to assume control. She married several years later, to an English born Navy officer; they had no children. After his death in 1929, she continued to run the station, and attained the highest standards with her livestock. At the Royal Melbourne Show & the Royal Easter Show, Sydney, she consistently won every prize in her division – including this lovely teapot, repurposed from a 100 year old English piece for the purpose. Interestingly, the teapot was made in England at about the same time her father came to Port Phillip as one of the first settlers….

Here’s the newspaper report of her win, where she was awarded this ‘Antique’ teapot in 1929.

See this piece of local history on our website here >>

Posted on 05/11/201928/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg

Indian ‘Alabaster’ …?

‘Alabaster’ has always been the term used by us Antique dealers to describe any translucent, whitish stone…. but have we been mis-labeling it? Sometimes, different industries have different terms for the same thing; I remember arguing with a floor-tile salesman, who insisted that with tiles, ‘ceramic’ was not the same as ‘porcelain’, something I still cannot get my head around, as porcelain is surely a variety of ceramic!
It seems we have the same issue with ‘Alabaster’.
The term is used by geologists to describe just one type of mineral – Gypsum. This is a soft material, ie you can scratch it with your fingernail – great for quickly carving. You may well be surrounded by it right now, as it is the main ingredient in plasterboard walls!
Antique dealers (and archaeologists) are a little more liberal in our allocation of the definition – we include Calcite in ‘Alabaster’. This is a much harder material – sometimes called ‘Onyx-marble’, a further confusion as Onyx is a completely different mineral!
Generally, if it is a fine whitish opaque stone – that lets the light through – we call it ‘Alabaster’.

Both of these ‘Alabasters’ (Calcite and Gypsum) have the same basis: the element Calcium, which has often come from the shells of dead marine organisms. You’ll also find it forming where ground-water pools – or where it drips in caves, forming stalagmites / stalactites.

And of course, add a little pressure & heat, and you have Marble. This much tougher Calcium-based rock is the most familiar to us, being the most luxurious building material available since ancient times.

This brings us to today’s story; the Indian ‘Alabasters’. These are whitish carved stone items from India.

The Taj Mahal is perhaps the most fabulous example of the Indian stonework – although the craftsmen who worked on it were brought in from all over Asia, and it owes a lot to the Persian – Moghal influence – but with a good infusion of Indian Hindu elements. The petra-dura panels of decoration is particularly stunning, with semiprecious stones sourced from as far as China (Crystal) Tibet (Turquoise) and Afghanistan (Lapis).
It was constructed to be ‘the most beautiful tomb in the world’ for the wife of the Moghal emperor Shah Jahan, and he was himself buried there on his death in 1666. A modern estimate for the cost at the time would translate to $1.2 billion Australian Dollars!
By the 19th century, it was in a state of disrepair – and during the British occupation and the subsequent 1857 rebellion, panels of inlaid work were prised out by British soldiers…

In the late 19th century, British viceroy Lord Curzon embarked on a restoration project of the monument, and it rapidly became a tourist attraction on its completion in 1908. Nearby towns who hosted the visitors discovered a demand for ‘souvenirs’ – and the British restoration effort had no doubt attracted a good core of cunning craftsmen, who were able to create lovely small souvenirs for the visitors.
They’re hard to date accurately, as they were probably made for a long period of time – so a piece with a date is always helpful. This example has one such inscription to the back:

“Given to my Mother by Lady Kimble, 1914” – not long after the completion of restoration of the Taj Mahal in 1908.

But are they Alabaster? We have to say no, not in the official definition of the word; they are the same material as the Taj Mahal, and therefore a fine white marble which is translucent when cut thin…. and because of that, they are lovely objects worthy of the semiprecious stone title ‘Alabaster’!

So they are almost alabaster, but have been left to cook a little longer!

See the Indian Marbles here >>

See all the Alabasters in stock here >>

Posted on 29/10/201928/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg

Swedish Royalty!

Us Rosenbergs always joked about having Scandinavian Royal blood – my Grandfather came from Sweden, and in the heart of Copenhagen there’s ‘Rosenborg Castle’, full of wonderful treasures such as the Crown Jewels and lots of Meissen porcelain. On visiting a few years ago, my father John enquired if family members got free entry; no humour was detected in reply!
Perhaps the closest we will get was found in Geelong recently, a small silver case of Swedish silver, with a series of Swedish inscriptions that pinpoint it to the Swedish royal family!

The engraved clues begin with a 5-pointed coronet crown, an arm with sword beneath, then the date 10/8/1941, with an the inscription beneath the arms reading “fran syrelse kamrater i Usala lans Jaktvardsforening” – roughly ‘From the Comrades of the Upsala Hunting Guard Association’.

The title ‘Count of Wisborg’ is an interesting one. Wisborg (or Visborg) is a town on Gotland, off the coast of Sweden. In 1892 , Prince Oscar of Sweden, Duke of Gotland and second in line to the Swedish throne, married against the wishes of the King – a shocking thing in the European Royal Circles of the period. He lost his claim to the throne, and all other titles – but was given the title ‘Count of Wisborg’, created just for him by his uncle Adolfe, Grand Duke of Luxembourg. Since this first awarding, it has been awarded three other times, all to the male-line descendants of Princes of Sweden who had married without permission from the King.

Prince Oscar’s marriage in 1888 caused shock in the Royal family, and a document was drawn up to ensure the remaining 3 princes didn’t follow suite – the comment was the King had lost one son and didn’t want to ‘lose’ any more…. this had the opposite effect on the population, who were quite taken by the prince who gave up everything for love. He actually headed over to England to be married, and tied the knot in a church in Bournemouth!

His wife Ebba was of noble birth – and had been a Lady-in-waiting to the Crown Princess, Victoria – but was just not titled enough to marry the second-in-line to the throne. Fortunately, Oscar had the full support of his mother, and on their wedding day, with his mother present, they were given the title of ‘Prince and Princess Bernadotte’. This comes down through the subsequent generations as their family name. Four years later, in the court of Luxembourg, they received the title ‘Count and Countess of Wisborg’.

Oscar & Ebba, Prince & Princess Bernadotte.

They lived a quiet life in Stockholm, away from the court, taking great interest in improving the lot of the poor. Both were religious and involved in numerous charity organisations. Oscar had served in the Navy, attaining the rank of Vice Admiral – achieving a voyage around the world and several trips to America. Later, he was involved in the YMCA of Sweden, and chaired the ‘Friends of Mission to the Laps’ for several years. They had five children, and enjoyed holidaying in summer on the island of Gotland: this was also the place their ‘countship’ originated, Wisby being the name of a ruined fortress nearby. Here, they stayed at ‘Villa Fridhem’, an interesting swiss-style building erected in 1860-61 for Princess Eugenie. She left it to Oscar in 1889, and in 1927 he gave it to the YMCA.

Back to our silver box; the inscription states it was dedicated in Upsala – which we take as being present day Uppsala, not far north of Stockholm. What the Upsala Hunting Guard Association was, I could not find out – or what they were hunting – but he was a military man, and this was in the middle of World War Two.

Sweden in 1941 was of course neutral; they had built up their own military as they nervously eyed-off both Russia and Germany heading towards war in the Baltic, and when hostilities inevitably broke out, managed to keep both at arms length. August 1941 was a particularly concerning time, as Germany had just invaded Russia with great success – using iron ore purchased from Sweden to build up their military – and in turn causing the union of the ‘Allies’ of England, USA and Russia, in the fight against Germany. Sweden allowed German troop trains through their country on their way to the front with Russia in Finland. Fast-forward a few years and Sweden was allowing the Allies to send troops and supplies through their territory to beat Germany into submission; ‘neutrality’ with careful concessions got them through the war.

Somewhere in the middle of this, the 82-year old Prince Bernadotte, Count of Wisborg, had an event in Upsala, along with 5 companions; as a souvenir, they had silver cases with everyone’s signatures carefully inscribed on them. As the Count’s is the first on the list, could we say this was his?

The inscriptions are beautifully done, no doubt from a calling-card bearing the originals. The skill of the engraver is very evident, and brings to mind the ease at which this person could have forged such signatures. This opens up a world of possibilities, when we consider the other aspect of Sweden’s neutrality; Spycraft! As the neutral territory between Germany and Allied countries, all sorts of interactions took place via Sweden – leading to a need for forged ‘official’ documents, useful in crossing borders. An engraver of skill such as the person who did these signatures would have been well placed and in demand…

I wonder who this interesting piece of Swedish silver was presented to… and how did it make its way to Australia? perhaps like Grandpa Rosenberg, it came with the influx of people looking for a new life in this new land of promise…

>> See this interesting piece here >>

Posted on 22/10/201928/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg

War of the Roses

An interesting case of re-attribution.

Ridgway jug c.1820 – close to our example

We had a fine couple of Imari pieces put out in a recent ‘Fresh Stock Tuesday’ release, catalogued as Ridgway. Thanks to a keen collector online, and their nicely worded email (“I think there might be a mistake….”) – we now have a re-attribution, and an interesting story to go with it.

Our attribution came via the jug, which shares the pattern & pattern number mark with a sucrier. Slight differences in the pattern suggest different hands – probably different years – but both collected by the same Australian collector, who had an eye for lush Imari.

Coalport examples in 'Cabinet of Creamers' — Coalport examples in ‘Cabinet of Creamers’

The jug was found in Berthoud’s ‘Cabinet of Creamers’ (p102 – pl. 609) where it conforms nicely to Ridgway circa 1812, the lower handle spur being distinctive, and having a flare to the top thumb rest. If we look at the Coalport example a few pages before (592 & 594) we see they have weak little spurs, and a flatter thumb rest….. another John Rose Coalport, pl 588, has the same issues. Ridgway seems a good attribution – and as the pattern number is the same on the sucrier, Ridgway seems good for both.

And then along comes the email…. stimulating a re-evaluation. Our lovely contact has given a reference to Geoffrey Godden’s ‘Coalport & Coalbrookdale Porcelains’, and there the mystery deepens. Illustration 69 is the same pattern – and he illustrates examples of it alongside the original John Rose Coalport pattern book, from which the painters sourced their designs…. irrefutable proof, as each of our pieces has the correct pattern number, ‘597’.

Pattern no. 597 - John Rose Coalport! — Pattern no. 597 – John Rose Coalport!

But we still have a non-conforming jug handle, according to Berthoud – and the sucrier to explain. On the next page of Godden is an illustration of a Anstice, Horton & Rose teaset – with the exact handle profile!
Tis the other Rose…. in an interesting twist, while John Rose had a porcelain factory on one bank of the canal at Coalport, his younger brother Thomas ran one on the opposite side ( partnered with Anstice & Horton) for several years! Much confusion results, with patterns and shapes being copied by both…. so a piece without a number can be impossible to place. Both of ours have John’s numbers, meaning they have to be John’s production – and yet, here it is, on a piece considered to be Thomas’s variation of handle shape.

The Sucrier is perfect for John Rose, and bears his pattern number. Why is the same number on the jug? Perhaps the simplest answer is the correct one – John decorated a piece of Thomas’s production with his own numbered pattern. Was he one jug short for a tea service, and sent a boy over the canal to obtain one from his brother?

The other possibility revolves around the origins of the Coalport works, and the short life of the Anstice, Horton & Rose partnership.

John Rose is best know, beginning as an apprentice at the 18th century softpaste works of Caughley, not far as the crow flies from the Iron Bridge Gorge location of the Coalport works. He left (and later bought it up!) and set up the first Coalport works in 1792, alongside the newly opened Coalport Canal. This canal was a part of the huge network, the preferred method for industry to transport both raw products and the finished goods throughout England. The Coalport Canal was perfect for bringing in the clay and coal, and then safely transporting the fragile products to the markets in the big cities.

Coalport works depicted in 1862, Iron Bridge Gorge

A few years later, his younger brother Thomas sets up a porcelain factory on the opposite side of the canal. This is running by 1800, and made porcelains in exactly the same manner, and of the same quality as his brother. It must have been an interesting situation separated only by the canal….! While Thomas remains, there were a couple of partner changes – ie the money behind the costly business of porcelain manufacturing comes & goes – then in 1814, during the economic turmoil of the Napoleonic Wars, it all collapsed, debts were called in and his works is offered for sale. Unsurprisingly, his brother John – just over the canal – is the purchaser.

So the other solution to our mysterious jug revolves around the absorption of Thomas’s works by John. The jug was probably an undecorated white piece in 1814, and shortly after Thomas closed his works, made its way across the canal to be decorated by John’s artists.
How does ‘Circa 1815’ sound? Perfect!

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While I have called this post the ‘War of the Roses’, there is no indication there was outright conflict; rather, the market seems to have been big enough for both brothers to provide very similar goods: perhaps sharing the workload for big orders. When economic uncertainty caused a drop in sales, only John survived. They did use different ‘pattern books’, and while Thomas’s has disappeared, we do have one of John’s, full of wonderful patterns to be painted onto porcelain. Amongst these designs are some contemporary notes, referring the reader to the ‘other Rose’: pattern 319 in John Rose’s book for example bears the note “No. 696 at Mr. T. Roses’.

We do try to be as accurate as possible – but as shown above, things can slip through. If you notice something, please send us a note!

Posted on 08/10/201928/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg

Mary, Mary, quite Contrary….

A serious piece of British History has surfaced in Australia…. or has it?

In our current Exhibition is a remarkable discovery: a ‘Nottingham Alabaster’ carved figure of a Lady at prayer, a small dog at her side. The costume is superbly detailed, and allows us to date it firmly within the Elizabethan period, mid-16th century. A colleague joked ‘it’s Mary, Queen of Scots – with her dog’ – and so, a chain of research was started, with a startling conclusion.

Mary, Queen of Scots was one of English history’s great tragedies. Imprisoned by her half sister, her story is full of intrigue and mystery until her beheadal in 1587.

A quick google of ‘Mary Queen of Scots Portrait Bust’ came up with multiple examples of her, mostly originating with the funerary image placed on her memorial in Westminster Abbey (by William and Cornelius Cure, 1606-16). Comparison with our example is remarkable -they depict the same face! We have the usual high-forehead that was fashionable in the Elizabethan era – and a squared temple, eyes at slightly varied level, long thin nose, and chin with central dimple. Even her mouth conforms nicely. It’s the Queen!

Mary Queen of Scots dog - alabaster statue

When we include the small dog off to one side, the idea that this is depicting Mary, Queen of Scots, suddenly becomes real. The tragic tale of her execution includes the discovery of her small Skye Terrier ‘lap dog’ beneath her dress, covered in blood and refusing to leave the Queen’s headless corpse…..

There is no known ‘devotional’ figure of this nature of the Queen known, although it is just the sort of thing she may have commissioned. We could go through her sad tale and find the time in which she would have been able to do such a commission, in the mid 16th century, for a private chapel in one of her residences, perhaps? And then, naturally we start thinking of where a piece this important should be now: the National Portrait Gallery , London springs to mind…..

But first, it’s a bit grubby and needs a clean: and suddenly, the statue of the Queen takes a completely different path….

As the layers of dirt are washed away, several areas of restoration become evident, masked by plaster; the plaster is what has stained dark. Once it is off…. we have three areas of great concern.

her head
the dog
the cushion

The reason these appear different is because they are a completly different stone – white, instead of honey-toned. They are added to the carving.

In a twist of fate, the Queen who so tragically lost her head… has found a body!
It becomes clear from the different stone used that what we are looking at is a Victorian ‘Restoration’, where a head, a cushion, and a dog have been added to an earlier sculpture. In other words, the very details that made it into a super-rare, unheard of sculpture of Mary Queen of Scots are actually all from the fertile imagination of a Victorian trickster. They created something that probably never existed!

We do wonder when it came to Australia: certainly a long time ago…. and so, it enters the list of ‘magnificent frauds’ that made their way to Australia, sold to some gullible wealthy squatter on a trip to London, probably back in the 19th or early 20th century. We have seen a lot of other examples – the fabulous ‘Sevres’ pieces we featured a few years back are exactly the same, partially original period pieces, but doctored up to make them impressive, rare, and saleable.

The origin of the head can be traced back to her memorial in Westminster Abbey. Her body was brought here by Charles I in 1612, and a magnificent marble construction with a depiction of the queen was created by the sculptors William and Cornelius Cure, 20 years after her execution and based on a small portrait miniature painted from life. This cast in turn inspired all the busts and statues of the Queen which appear in the Victorian era, when she became so popular – and when this well carved head was most likely to have been spliced onto a genuine Elizabethan relic….

Mary has been the subject of numerous films and books, and has quite a following on the web. One of the problems with the nature of information on the web is ‘anything goes’…. and in the case of Mary, we have misconception of the various plaster casts of her head as ‘death masks’. This is not the case, the plaster casts were all taken from the Cure creation, which was a re-construction from a miniature portrait of her painted from life.
Calling these busts ‘death-masks’ would be as accurate as calling this wonderful Victorian Fraud an Elizabethan Devotional Statue of Mary, Queen of Scots…. it’s not quite right.

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Posted on 01/10/201928/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg

Great (Exhibition) Expectations

A surprise attribution leads to a fascinating provenance.

Pair of well-painted plates, unmarked, maker uncertain….

A flamboyant pair of plates with startling orange borders had been in our storeroom for some time before their significance was unearthed, purely by chance.

Their shape is a common ‘lobed’ form, and made by many porcelain makers in the mid 19th century. Our possible attribution was Copeland…. circa 1870…. one of many similar makers of bone china in the 19th century. But as unmarked pieces, it would take a miracle to attribute them firmly.

One day, their origin literally left out at me – on the front cover of a newly acquired book (a gift from a good friend, thanks Helen!) was an identical plate! The book was Godden’s ‘Ridgeway Porcelains’, 1985 edition. At last, a firm attribution.

Opening up to p229, we discover their significance:

‘A plate from a John Ridgeway dessert service shown at the 1851 Great Exhibition’..>>! What excellent provenance!

Tracing Godden’s identification of this service to an original booklet that was available to visitors at the Great Exhibition, we find the following inscription:

#42 One Dessert Centre(piece) , Two Comports, Six Plates….. Coral Border, Watteau Centre & Gold

At the ‘Great Exhibition’ in Crystal Palace, London, this was a ‘sample’ display of a service type, showing off what the company was capable of, and one of a group of other sample services with different decoration. Similar to the way ‘concept cars’ at today’s car shows sometimes never get made commercially, the display and the available retail product may well have differed; some items may have been ‘Great Exhibition Only’ pieces and never been part of the commercial production of the firm. The superb and very costly large scenes on these plates makes the case for the idea that these plates are two of the 6 made for the Great Exhibition of 1851, and were not part of the general offerings to the public from Ridgeway.

See plate 1 here >>

See plate 2 here >>

Browse all 2019 Exhibition items here >>

Posted on 02/09/201908/10/2019 by Paul Rosenberg

2019 Exhibition, opened 5th October

It’s Exhibition time again at Moorabool Antiques – time to showcase our recent exciting finds with a display & sale of over 500 exciting items.

From a lovely pair of 18th century ‘dummy boards’ – almost life-size – to a dazzling array of Ceramics, there’s a huge variety of items to be seen.

Our local purchases included a remarkable collection of late 18th / early 19th century English pottery of all descriptions, a collection of coffee cans, ditto spill vases, and a large number of early 19th century English porcelain pieces. We’re particularly struck by the beauty of the ‘Dry Bodies’, a group of feldspathic stonewares which have incredible detail to their decoration due to absence of glaze.

Chetham & Woolley drybody sucrier, brown ground white sprigged children, c. 1800 — A delightful Chetham & Woolley drybody sucrier, the brown ground panels with white sprigged children, circa 1800

In porcelains, you’ll find the collectable, and the unusual: Coalport, Daniel, Davenport, Derby, Spode, Swansea, Worcester are familiar names; less known are Wolfe, Machin and Mayer. And there’s plenty more to add to that list!

From 18th century Europe comes a selection of Meissen, Sevres, and other Porcelain makers.

Exotics include the humorous Japanese Satsuma ‘turtle’ kettle, some Italian creamwares, and an interesting array of Antiquities beginning with a 4,500 year old ‘Indus Valley Culture’ pottery bull from the John Kenny collection, Melbourne.

Indus Valley Culture Bull, 2,500 BC — Indus Valley Culture Bull, from Northern Pakistan, circa 2,500 BC

We are busily cataloguing several hundred more pieces, and adding them to the website Preview Gallery on a daily basis. Keep an eye on the uploads, and feel free to send through a ‘query’ if there’s anything you wish to know.

Otherwise…. see you on Saturday 5th October! And for all who are simply too far away – feel free to email or call.

best wishes from all @ Moorabool.

Now, back to cataloguing….

More info here >>

Preview upcoming items here >>

Posted on 20/08/2019 by Alard Pett

Mechi’s amazing Emporium

Victorian Entrepreneur John Joseph Mechi (1802-80) was born in London, the city of opportunity – and his story shows all the ups & downs in the life of an entrepreneur.

As suggested by his name, his father was Italian, and employed in the household of George III, marrying a local girl. He claimed connections with Italian Royalty, but his position in court was… a court barber! It seems young John grew up with these high aspirations, something that comes through in his flamboyant adverts:

‘Mechi …. greatly improves the personal appearance of the community, by means of his extraordinary Razors…. ‘

His intended audience is also obvious:

‘…Captains, Military, and Nautical Gentlemen, proceeding to India or the colonies, will find Mechi’s are the very Emporium, in which they can instantly procure almost every article (except clothing and furniture) that a protracted absence from their native country renders necessary.’

Mechi’s Shop at 4 Leadenhall Street

There’s a huge amount of flair that comes through in these adverts, a showmanship that reflects his Italian roots. And yet, unlike many of the Regent Street retailers of luxury goods he was competing with, he catered for all budgets.

Beginning his career in 1818 training as a clerk, he set out on his own in 1828 as a ‘cutler’ in Leadenhall Street. He began manufacturing papier-mâché, and moved into his address at 4 Leadenhall Street by 1830, and later was in a partnership with Bazin in Regent Street circa 1859-69. After this date, he continued on his own, from 1870 until 1880.

His ‘mission statement’ printed in his catalogue is remarkably forward thinking, worthy of a fair-trade profile in the 21st century:

“1st. to sell only the very best articles, at a small profit, for ready money.

2nd. To exchange or return the money for any article found defective, without any reserve or mean objection.

3rd. By punctuality, by civility, and vigilant attention to the wants of his customers, to endeavour to identify their interest with his own, and thereby merit and increase the extensive trade, patronage and confidence with which he has already been honoured”

Products included his own inventions, such as the ‘magic shaving strap’, which made him a small fortune early on (until beards became fashionable!) , and items made of Papier-mâché.

MECHI shop advert, 1840's — MECHI shop advert, 1840’s

(The Spectator , London , 1846) SUPERB NOVELTIES IN PAPIER MACHER

“A visit to his establishment will prove that there is not in London another such stock of elegancies.

Caddies, tables, envelope cases, letting boxes, companions, cabinets, jewel cases, work boxes, dressing cases, tea Katies, hand and pole-screens, card racks, table inkstands, writing desks, portfolios, playing cards and visiting card cases, bottle cases, note and cake baskets, also an insult and of needle cases, and pearl and tortoiseshell, silver and gold pencil cases, pen holders and other Articles suitable for presents.”

We have in stock a large tea-tray with his name & address at the back, conveniently now seated on a folding table base. These were very popular in the stylish Victorian drawing-room:

(The Spectator , London , 1846) TEA TRAYS

“Mechi’s papier-mâché tea trays are decidedly the most unique and elegant ever manufactured. The designs are various, as well as the prices, and the economical may be suited as easily as those whose wealth entitles them to such for the most recherche articles which art can produce. The papier-mâché work tables work boxes tea caddies writing cases ink stands and screens card boxes and etc are really superb.”

He was a prolific inventor, coming up with all sorts of interesting concepts he patented. He had a thriving farming business later on, having purchased it as a failing enterprise he managed to turn it around – and published a series of accounts on ‘Profitable Farming’. He was confirmed as the Sheriff of London in 1856, an Alderman of the City of London in 1858, but unfortunately became involved in a failed financial scheme, and was declared bankrupt -right when he was destined to become the Mayor of London….

Mechi took a stand at the 1851 Exhibition to promote his wares, and again in 1862.

If Mechi was inserted in today’s society, he’d be selling gizmo’s and gadgets, from his gadget shop – ala Apple – and his adverts would be the really annoying ones with the catchy tune…

Our 'Mechi Tribute' at Moorabool Antiques — Our ‘Mechi Tribute’ at Moorabool Antiques

Here’s what I mean; this advert from THE NATIONAL STANDARD / Journal of Literature, Science, Music, Theatricals, and the Fine Arts, January 1833 must have been penned by the man himself – in the years leading to his almost-promotion to Lord Mayor of London:

A Rather Long Story

Mr Deputy Scrub had long taken out
his bachelors degree;
So he thought it high time to look about,
persuaded there to buy a twige of the gout,
for some lady with cash or even without,
Mrs Deputy Scrub to be.
But alas he was plagued with a terrible beard,
which the spinsters almost enormously feared,
and a rub in person to them appeared,
as a bad as by deputy.

A ticket he got for the Lord Mayors ball,
thought he come out on though I’m rough as a Thistle,
who knows what a chance may turn up at Guildhall?
I may wine with a lady and help on her shawl,
and drop her my card in the morning call,
with a charming love episode.
So he built a new coat and he wigged new crop,
and made himself smart from the tail to the top,
and resolving to take the ball at the hop,
asked the hand of Miss Barbara whistle.

She simpered and smiled and said “Yes kind sir,
I am yours for the next quadrille;
Or perhaps you are gallopade prefer”.
So he drew on his gloves and he took hold of her
Little finger and danced a new mazurka
with incredible skill.
But the ladies and gentlemen vowed such a pair
of muzzles were never before the Lord Mayor,
And the scrub and the bristle were matched to a hair,
and Jack should be married to Jill.

4.
Then bright cake all over the town was sent from Mr and Mrs scrub
In a chariot-and-four to Brighton they went:
But Adam honeymoon half was spent,
It began to be clouded with this content at many are conjugal Rob.
The deputy grumbled and Barbara pouted,
The loves and the graces away were rooted
From the forest of Brushwood that flourished and sprouted
under each D a little snob.

5.
But through Leadenhall-Street as the Deputy paced,
So gingerly rubbing his chin, he
Read a showy placard of the MAGICAL PASTE,
In MECHI’S shop window attractively placed,
“Odd Bobs” he exclaimed, “If this hits not my taste,
You may call me a positive Ninny”
Poor Bob shall no longer of beard be prolific;
Thanks to Mechi’s sharp razors and strops scientific,
While his MAGICAL PASTE by its powder mirific,
Gives for sixpence what’s well worth a guinea.

MECHI’S MAGIC RAZOR STROP PASTE

Posted on 06/08/201906/08/2019 by Paul Rosenberg

Review: “Worcester Porcelain – Two Australian Collections”

2016 publication, hardback, 208 pages, 171 items illustrated in full colour

This quality 2016 book on 18th century British porcelain has a surprising local origin in Australia.

The authors are regulars to any local sales or shops with a hint of Worcester porcelain in Australia, and overseas as well; the result is to be seen in this book – a combined collection which illustrates superbly the origins, mastery, and continuation of the Worcester factory’s products, from the 1750’s origins into the 1830’s.

There’s 171 items beautifully photographed, with a useful appendix with visual references to any marks the pieces have. For any dealer or collector, these marks are the essential clue for dating and attribution – but are left out in far too many ‘collectors books’.

Facts are presented in a very direct manner, and well supported with Provenance, Reference, and Literature following directly after.

What is refreshing is the inspiration this collection provides for anyone aspiring to do the same; the pieces range from the comparatively ‘common’ (ie. affordable) blue & white florals of the Mansfield pattern, through to some delicious Chinoiseries of the early 1750’s …. some which were once with Moorabool at quite substantial prices….

Refreshing also is a realistic attitude to condition; rivets in a rare piece are perfectly acceptable, as is the occasional small rim flaw….

Several more controversial pieces are carefully skirted around, in regards to attribution; like many ‘facts’ in the art world, these are often matters of opinion, and subject to change. The ‘James Giles’ attribution is one such situation, where the authors have presented both sides, with a ‘perhaps / alternatively’ attitude that doesn’t preach or lecture, but allows the reader to make up their own mind.

Moorabool recommends this book as a well written survey of early Worcester, a useful addition to any ceramic collector’s library.

Buy a copy here >>