Antiques & Valuables

by Walter Sherman Atwood (1887-1974)

Intelligence is defined as the capacity for learning, and common sense tells us that there are people who lack much of this capacity, and in extreme cases such people are put in institutions for the feeble minded. Meanwhile, public education is dedicated to the ideal of forcing every one else to stay at great public expense in schools that take no account of the fact that the capacity of the majority does not warrant such expenditure of public funds.

No one then can teach anything unless there is an existing capacity, and no talk about the value of antiques will get anywhere in the thinking of anyone who is lacking in the ability to appreciate such things. It is to be hoped that the reader will have such a capacity that some pleasure may result from these remarks about "our" antiques, for we know that we cannot take them with us, but we have held them in trust, and thus they may have some sentimental value.

Why have they given me pleasure for so many years? Mahogany is one of the most beautiful woods, and Santo Domingo mahogany is no longer grown. I have myself worked with wood while in High School, and learned to enjoy the feel of handling fine wood, but only in a very limited way. In recent years, I have done considerable re-finishing, first of the very fine doors in our very ordinary house. It is the vogue, today, to throw away such doors, just to be modern. Yet such doors could not be bought for much less, today, than $100 each, and they will be solid and serviceable for many years after today's modern junk is warped and discarded. It took me eight hours' labor at least for every door in this house, to take off the old layers of varnish.

And when you see the good grain of Santo Domingo come alive after scraping off the dirty varnish and shellac of a hundred years, and you observe the excellent craftsmanship in each piece, you could hardly put a money price on such furniture. It is an integral part of the family. It is "ours," one of us.

Thirty years ago, Dr. Will S. Thomas happened to see the pair of old parlor chairs, and remarked that if I ever wanted to sell them he would be glad to pay $25 each, but while I was interested in his valuation, I never for a minute thought of selling. Since then, I have seen one or two chairs on sale here in Palisades Park, by no means as good as ours, and they were priced at $75. When it came time to refinish these two chairs, it cost more than $25 each to have them re-glued and upholstered, and I suppose I must have spent at least a day in taking off the finish, and sanding and putting on three coats of shellac.

It is my intention to list the antiques that should be valuable to any observer, but especially to the members of the family, whose interest should be based on the history of the article listed. Since I am writing on the top floor, I will begin with the articles that I have lived with for a long time, and were antiques when I first saw them.

1.  A small folding desk that came from Dr. Goodwin, who died in 1894. My father at that time was about 70 years old, and he had a job known as a "night watcher." When a Civil War veteran was in his last sickness, and wanted or needed some sort of attention around the clock, the Grand Army had a list of old men who were willing to sit up all night in a sick room, for a dollar, or less, and frequently their pay was in barter, which was seldom edible. So, for his pay, when the good doctor died (on Johnson Street, in the back of the City Hall), my father received in pay this desk, and a walnut ottoman. At the age of seven, I had a morning paper route, and a long afternoon paper route for Mr. Butterfield, a classmate in elementary school of my mother's. I got seventy-five cents a week for my labor, and the only time I ever remember spending any of it on myself was the day I paid the dentist fifty cents to take out one of my first teeth. Now the dentist charges ten dollars to stick one tooth back on your dental plate, if you bring him the tooth that dropped off. And I no longer can "earn" even 75 cents a week. Looking at the desk, you will be able to tell the veneer from the solid mahogany by the superior grain and deep shades that vary in color in different lights. The desk has three defects in cabinet making: the folding part of the desk is weak, and it wouldn't do to put your full weight on it when you sit down to the desk; the compartment in the moving part has a poor method of securing the lid; and for some reason, the legs are made of maple or birch, too light in color to match the mahogany; and the legs are merely held on by glue. The cabinet maker was evidently not quite a master builder. But we found a good man to repair our relic, and except for some black baize that I have been unable to find, to replace the old material that I removed when refinishing, the desk is now in A-1 shape. Inside one of the drawers is the name probably of someone who owned the desk before Dr. Goodwin got it. The Lynn Historical Society, or the Dept. of Vital Statistics at City Hall might have information about this original owner, if anyone should care to determine the age of the desk. My appreciation of the desk went up several points when we found one (obviously made by the same cabinet maker) now located in the famous DuPont Winterthur Museum of America Antiques, near Wilmington, Delaware. They gave Salem, Mass. as the origin of the desk, and Salem borders Lynn on the N.E. Jane Webb had a better specimen including a book case on top, with leaded glass doors, and pendant drawer pulls like ours, perhaps made of ebony. Another distinguishing trait in all three desks is the compartments for ink bottles and for pens in the small inside drawers.

2.  Of the same period, probably, is our sand blotter, a goblet-shaped object, possibly of rosewood, with light sapwood and dark heart wood, very expertly turned on a lathe. Pictures of these sand blotters are found on engravings of the Revolutionary period. A hollowed-out center held some fine grained sand that was sprinkled on the ink left by the quill pen in the days before blotting paper was invented.

3.  A Revolutionary dressing table with turned legs, has one large drawer and two small ones, is made of pine, and unfortunately has a coat of paint daubed on over the original decoration which should have been restored by an expert. Anna Foster learned this art not so long ago, only to discover that the paints gave her an allergy, so we are unable to make use of her talents. The table belonged to Uncle George Dearborn's mother, who died about 1907, at her home on Edwards Court, West Lynn. It is likely that Mrs. Dearborn inherited it from an ancestor, and since she was close to 90 years old in 1907, the table may have been made in the late 1700's.

I may be wrong, but I think George was Grammie Gordon's uncle. But I remember very well hearing him tell about his start in life as a laborer in a cotton mill at about ten years of age, when the hours were from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., and the pay was in the vicinity of $3 a week of six days, or 72 hours. No wonder Child Labor Laws were called for. But George wasn't underprivileged; he taught himself enough to quote Shakespeare better than most people can, became a reporter, and made his living with his pen.

4.  Jane Webb gave me recently a small mirror frame with a picture of the New Haven Post Office dated 1835 in the space above the mirror itself. We may assume that the mirror was made soon after this print was made and dated, as the mirror was in Jane's family whose home was in New Haven. We refinished the frame and replaced the mirror, which may be against the rules, but at least we can see ourselves in the glass.

5.  Two large bulbous vases with handles bear the mark "Old Hall 1790," which might mean something to a professional. They came from Clarence Webb's ancestors in New Haven, and since Clarence died at age 92 in 1960, we may speculate that the vases may have been gifts for his parents not too long after 1790.

6.  A Loewestoft teapot, exactly like one in the American wing of the Metropolitan Museum in N.Y. At a guess, I would say this came from grandmother's sister Lydia Breed, who lived on Summer St., married to Aza Breed, a successful banker. We have a clipping telling how he was once knocked down and robbed of $75,000 in cash that he was carrying from a Boston bank to his Lynn bank. His monument in the cemetery would cost today as much as we paid for the house we now live in. This was the only member of the clan that might acquire a Loewestoft tea pot.

7.  Mr. Gordon had a considerable knowledge of antiques, and an ancient bellows used for a country fireplace bore a date on it when it came to us, but the date on the sticker that he put on has long since faded away. It was possibly 1780 or thereabouts, which meant that he had some knowledge of its former owners. The leather is full of holes, but it might not add to the value of the article to put on new leather.

8.  From Mr. Gordon also came two saucer candleholders, probably used in the same family that used the bellows. A tall brass candlestick, I think, came from my father, and his father probably used it. I think it is not as old as the others. A good museum curator would know. Two larger candle holders, about fifteen inches tall, came from Jane and Clarence Webb, and they are very likely close to a hundred years old now.

9.  An old plate, marked with the letters "W & C" and lettered "Simplon," was supposed to be old when my mother acquired it as a child.

10.  A Box still containing some Chinese toothpowder, and two cracked "rose" jars from China were brought back by Uncle Ben Waitt, my grandfather's brother, who went around the world as an ordinary sailor before I was born. I have also his sea chest, samples of which are found in many old New England houses and museums. But Uncle Ben was an ancestor, who used to get religion and get drunk as the whim seized him, and we have some letters from the fabulous Pacific Isles, where he tells of meeting Brother So-and-So who conducted a good old fashioned revival meeting in some place like Tahiti.

11.  The chair that I am sitting in as I write is, for all I know, the only piece of furniture remaining from the first house I remember, on Washington St. It is probably maple, a very hard and fine grained wood, and it had been painted red or some such color, and revealed its original honey color after I scraped it down with glass, and had it repaired, before I put in new cane for the seat. So, I can safely say it is 70 years old or more.

12.  The little portable organ that belonged to Grace's mother is still in working order, and not many of those old instruments are on the market today, but the bellows are beginning to leak in spite of a recent repair job. And my autoharp that came free with an order for ten dollars' worth of Larkin Soaps in 1898 is as unusual as the organ, but not as old. And the Seth Thomas clock is still ticking away, 65 years old this year, and although it, too, came to me for a gift for selling ten dollars' worth of Larkin products in 1897 or 1898, we have seen many a clock come and go meanwhile. But we did have to have the works checked a few years ago, and the charge was about six dollars, which seems to have something to do with inflation. Yet Clarence Webb's grandfather's clock was still ticking out good time when he died at the age of 92. My Seth Thomas gift clock is a modern antique grandfather's clock.

13.  Within reach as I write, I nearly missed the beautiful box made of some unidentified rare tropical wood that my grandmother had the foresight to inscribe as follows: "Brought from N.Y. for my mother, by my father, in 1834." We know that her father was William Tarbox, and her mother was called Dolly. In the box are such trinkets as a Revolutionary knife owned by Paul Newhall, a tintype of my grandmother wearing an ebony and gold breast pin, and the pin itself. This tintype, or one like it was carried to China, where Uncle Ben had a Chinese artist make an oil portrait which was thrown away after grandmother died.

14.  There are three battered pieces remaining from a doll's tea set, brown in color, supposed to be from England. Mr. Gordon, who first showed them to me in 1905 thought they were very old at that time.

15.  From my Grandmother Waite came the large cider mug bearing a large capital F on the front, but no other mark of identification. Eddie and Myra Foster may have been relatives, and perhaps they at one time owned the mug. I remember visiting these people before I was five years old, and they lived in East Saugus. I judge the mug is about the same age as the Loewestoft teapot.

16.  In the front room on the top floor near the sea chest of Ben Waite is a small leather covered "trunk" used in the days of the stagecoach, before suitcases were known. Inside the lid is the name of Simeon Atwood, who may have been my father's father, or his grandfather, since both had the name Simeon. This trunk, and another similar one with a rounded top are full of old documents, papers and books, and some interesting dated letters of family interest.

The final disposition of the personal mementos is much more of a problem than a young person might suspect. In all the glut of words about problems of the aging, I recall only one article by an English writer, I.A.R. Wylie, dealing with the sentimental attachment or the spiritual satisfaction that old people get from the enjoyment of such things as I am now describing, things with a personal relationship, rather than things that rich men buy as a so-called hobby, whose only value is expressed in the prices paid to acquire them.

There is no money equivalent for the time spent personally in such activities as restoring a fine finish to the heirlooms that have been for long years a part of the family life and experience, seen and enjoyed daily. It is attractive to some people to wander through galleries displaying fine arts, whatever that term includes, how much more interesting should be the daily awareness of seeing and caring for beautiful things that we own, or properly speaking posses us.

The Spare Room

17.  In this seldom used room is one decrepit old bureau waiting for funds for repairs and energy for refinishing. It is a conversation piece useful in comparing the appearance of mahogany before and after refinishing. It is perhaps the least attractive of our antiques, and I am not even sure of its history, but I think it is from the Dearborns.

The Kitchen

18.  In the kitchen are two or three old platters, three blue and gold plates from the Webb family stamped Copeland B., which I supposed were made in Bavaria. On the wall are five spode fruit plates, very attractively painted, and from Grace's family. Somewhere in the dish closets are six old English dinner plates that used to be used at Thanksgiving dinners when my mother was a child. There is an interesting old print of High Bridge, over the Harlem River which was made probably soon after the Croton aqueduct went into service, and is interesting for comparisons with the present series of bridges at this point.

Bedroom

19.  Gilt and black frame colonial mirror, from the Gordon home, with new glass.

20.  Drop leaf bedside table, two drawers, from the Carpenter home, stained pine.

21.  Santo Domingo mahogany bureau, from the Dearborn family, original finish, and not restored, but perhaps the best of the bureaus.

22.  Parlor chair, small, from Jane Webb, restored and refinished. Likely of same period as two small chairs in living room. Some veneer of Santo Domingo, some solid mahogany.

23.  Refinished and restored Santo Domingo bureau. In one drawer, my grandmother had written the origin in pencil, which I repeated in the same drawer. "Mary Ann Hill - David Tufts, 1833."

Looking up the genealogy, I find the record does not include David Tufts. My grandmother was born in 1833, and I am sure she wrote the date quoted after she had inherited this bureau as I thought from her mother who is in the records as Dolly Hill Tarbox. It is possible that Dolly was a pet name in the family, but this would not account for David Tufts. Perhaps it is well to let a little mystery remain in the records. Was there some possible scandal here? Mary Ann Hill was born in 1790 or 1793, which means she was well along in life when grandmother was born.

24.  A small water color miniature of a chemist or doctor, from Dr. Goodwin, acquired with the desk and ottoman.

25.  An oriental rug with candelabrum in a mosque, pink background, 51" x 68", from Scoville School.

26.  In the hall, a modern small, 33" x 60" oriental, bought at Wanamaker's in 1921.

Living Room

27.  Pedestal folding top mahogany table, restored and refinished, from the Gordon family, not as old, probably as the following (#28 - #31).

28.  Sheraton (?) table, refinished and restored, fine inlay and veneer, Gordon family.

29.  Winthrop desk, restored and refinished, acquired by Mr. Gordon, not a family heirloom for as long a time as most of the other items. Superb craftsmanship evident in the dovetailing seen from above. The top and sides of the desk seem to show marks of hand planing. Pigeon holes show fine job of gluing mahogany to pine. Drop shelf is part of the restoration, and the mahogany is not of the same quality as the original solid mahogany of the rest of the desk. It would appear that when this desk was made, they still had enough Santo Domingo to use solid rather than veneer. When restored, the runners for the drawers were more than half worn through, and the hand made nails were exposed. I left a sample in one of the drawers. The small drawers inside the desk show where mice have chewed holes in them, but they should be examined for fine craftsmanship.

30.  Black walnut ottoman from Dr. Goodwin, refinished about 1958.

31.  Two small veneer and solid mahogany chairs repaired and refinished, should not bring less than $75 each, as you might learn if you had to hire an expert to reglue such a chair.

32.  Kashan rug of this size should be worth about $500, as it is, in today's market. Compare the advertised prices for used rugs of this type in reputable N.Y. stores. This rug should be useful for a century of proper use. In the thirty years we have used it, there is no sign of fading, and no serious wear. But we do not come in and walk on this rug with muddy boots, and it would not last a century in some farm kitchen with gravel walks and no door mat. A rug of this size may well take the labor of a whole family for a full year, and in the land where such rugs are made, it is customary to take off your shoes before stepping on the rugs. Our material civilization makes such a mistake in thinking only of the money value of a rug, instead of being aware of the sacrifices and hard work needed to make a thing of beauty which could be a joy forever. People seem to think that because a thing is new, it is therefore beautiful. Age can also be serene and lovely.

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