He fears that he’s been sold.
PLATES AND DISHES
These under the eye of the camera are more or less alike, especially more—then let it suffice the reader to learn that I have forty small and thirty large of various sizes displayed wherever a likely space is available without giving a too crowded appearance. They nearly all bear makers’ marks or owners’ crests or initials, or evidence that they have been put to good use at some time or other. I have been told that when these big chaps were in vogue the various conglomerations forming the meal were heaped together and formed a goodly pile, so there is no doubt of the authenticity of the story of the Scottish farmer with a prodigious appetite at a Rent Dinner who when they wanted to take away his plate said “Bide awee for I hae just found a doo (pigeon) in the reddin o’ ma plate.”
As regards the rims, while I know some enthusiastic collectors could talk for a week on this feature, which to the uneducated suggests distinction without a difference, I will not labour the point.
I saw some very bright 9 inch plates in London recently with ornamental rims, and out of curiosity enquired the price. I was told 25s. each, but the information that they were Dutch was not vouchsafed.
Probably my “pride of the paddock” plate is one on [Plate XIX] (facing p. 43). It has a raised bead running round the centre of the rim, is thought to be early eighteenth century, and was made by Allen Bright, who has since retired from business. Judging by its shape it should pass muster as a genuine alms dish; though it may have been constructed to hold pennies in the kirk, I think it just as likely it held puddings in the kitchen—a thought inspired by the old knife-cuts on the bottom.
I have referred to the Irish plates being scoured on the back, and wiped on the front. Apropos of this remark I have a set of eight with the crest of a sea-horse on the rim; the marks are all obliterated, with the exception of the word “Jonas,” and by the lettering I was able to identify it as made by Jonas Durand about 1660. I also have three plates with the crest which represents the red hand of Ulster, and I believe they would originally be the property of an old Derbyshire family that has an estate in Ireland.
I have one very rare plate inasmuch as it bears on its surface ten rows of tap marks made with a round-headed hammer. The number in each circle lessens until they get down to seven, which surround the centre tap. This plate bears the initials and touch impression of the maker, which are undecipherable, but that does not worry me. I would far rather have the uncommon surface and indistinct marks than plain marks and a smooth surface. The strange thing is that if anyone wants a plate to, perhaps, stand a pot on, and there is no pottery one handy, or the artistic eye thinks a certain pot or flower would go better with a pewter than with a coloured pottery plate, they invariably lift this one off the dresser shelf, when any of the others would do equally well. This must stop, as I find the treatment does not improve its peculiar appearance.
On the first shelf of the oak dresser ([Plate VI]) there are four Scotch plates made by William Hunter, of Edinburgh, 1749-1773. The fronts must always have been well polished, for they shine like silver now. The backs have been kept clean, though not scoured, as the maker’s name and touchmarks are quite distinct. One pair were called “meatplates” and the other “pudding” or “porridge plates.” The latter are deep and would pass for collecting-plates among church pewter in some hands. My obtaining possession of these from the shelves of a farm kitchen in Scotland is an illustration of the proverb that kissing goes by favour. I wish I could obtain more in the same very agreeable manner.