CHAPTER XVIII SAVING THE PIECES

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OLD porcelain and earthenware, and even old glass, may be skilfully mended so as almost to pass as whole; and lost parts may be “restored” to a condition that will leave an object not to be a reproach to one’s collection. Of course, the collection should entrust such mending and restoring to the hand of an expert, at least where broken or damaged pieces are of particular rarity. Probably the famous Portland Vase, now in the British Museum, is the most remarkable example of mending and restoring we know of.

This celebrated vase, it will be remembered, was discovered in a sarcophagus in an ancient tomb not far from the Frascati Road, near Rome, about the middle of the seventeenth century. From its first owners, after its discovery, it was known as the Barberini Vase until it passed from the hands of Sir William Hamilton (who had purchased it for a thousand pounds) into the possession of the Duchess of Portland. Thenceforth it was known as the “Portland Vase.”

This vase, which was of a deep, blue-black glass, decorated with semi-translucent cameo figures of white, cut in relief upon a dark ground in a truly marvelous manner, was one day dashed to pieces in 1845 by a crank named Lloyd, a visitor to the museum. Fortunately the hundreds of fragments were immediately gathered up and placed in the hands of the official restorer, a Mr. Doubleday, who accomplished the remarkable feat, aided by an engraving of the vase by Cipriani and Bartolozzi in 1786, and especially by a remarkable copy of the vase which Josiah Wedgwood had made.

Fifty such copies were originally made for subscribers at fifty guineas each, and all were disposed of. These first copies are among the rarest and loveliest examples of Wedgwood’s wares. As the original molds survived, recent copies have been made, with black and also with dark-blue grounds. While Wedgwood’s copies were remarkable ceramic achievements, they may seem to lack the intrinsic beauty of the original material, but they are pleasing and fine in themselves.

At the sale, in 1786, of the antiques and curios collected by the Duchess of Portland, her son, then duke, was present in the auction room as a bidder. Wedgwood was bidding on the Portland Vase and the price went soaring up. Finally the duke discovered that Wedgwood’s sole reason for desiring the vase was to reproduce it. On condition that he was to have one of the copies, free of charge, the duke offered to lend Wedgwood the treasure if Wedgwood would withdraw from the competition and allow the duke to bid it in. The matter was amicably arranged, and the vase was handed to Wedgwood for the purpose stipulated. He himself wrote:

I cannot sufficiently express my obligation to his Grace, the Duke of Portland, for his entrusting this inestimable jewel to my care, and continuing it so long—more than twelve months—in my hands, without which it would have been impossible to do any tolerate justice to this rare work of art. I have now some reason to flatter myself with the hope of producing in a short time a copy which will not be unworthy the public notice.

Wedgwood is said to have looked upon his copy of the Portland Vase as his masterpiece.

Those who have been fortunate enough to see the original vase in the British Museum—where, restored, it is now safely guarded in the Gem Room—will appreciate how much can be accomplished in the hands of a skilful mender and restorer, and will realize, too, the value of “saving the pieces” when accident appears to have destroyed a rare specimen of pottery, porcelain, or glass.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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