A reader told me a surprising story.
During the pandemic she and her mother spent quite a bit of time strolling the beaches of Galveston Island, Texas. During that time they would stumble across pieces of pottery and glass that had been discarded over the years—fragments of history.
The nature of these broken shards she collected over the years vary widely, as you imagine they would, encompassing a number of different things. Among the things she has collected are pieces of transferware, as shown above, tiles, insulators, utilitarian pottery and, yes, majolica.
What surprised me about this is that the majolica was instantly recognizable. How ever do you imagine, did Etruscan Majolica show up on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico?
The shards, their sharp edges worn smooth by decades of immersion in the churning water of the surf, still bore parts of their bright shiny glaze. One piece was clearly recognizable as part of a handle. Another showed a leaf that once encircled the teapot. Others showed the majolica pink glaze that lined the interior of the teapot. Like fossils uncovered, they spoke of a previous life in Victorian America long lost.
The reader told me that the area of the beach where the pieces were found was adjacent to the home of a wealthy Galveston family. Maybe these shards belonged to a teapot that once served the family tea, only to be discarded when broken many years ago. Or possibly these were the remains of a teapot ordered from the 1884 New Orleans Cotton Centennial Exposition at which Griffen, Smith & Company exhibited. These could also be artifacts from the great hurricane that ravaged the city in 1900 killing many thousands of its residents and causing millions of dollars in damage.
If only objects could speak!
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