Skip to content
Previous article
Now Reading:
Ink, Intention, and Ornate Little Vessels: The Story of Antique Writing Accessories
Next article

Ink, Intention, and Ornate Little Vessels: The Story of Antique Writing Accessories

From sacred scribes to everyday letter-writers, why these tools still matter.

Why I Love Inkwells (and What They Whisper to Me)

Let me just say it: I have a deep and abiding love for inkwells.
Not just because they’re beautiful (though they are).
Not just because I have a collection I’m rather proud of (though I do).
But because they represent something I miss: intention.

There’s something powerful about an object that exists solely to help someone communicate—to themselves, to someone far away, or to the world. And not just communicate… but pause, dip, breathe, and write.

Inkwells aren’t just decorative. They’re a quiet kind of magic.
And I think it’s time we give them their due.

Literacy & Class: Who Had the Right to Write?

Writing hasn’t always been democratic.

For much of history, reading and writing were luxuries—not skills everyone had. In ancient times, literacy was the domain of scribes, priests, merchants, and royalty. The ability to write was tied to class, gender, and access to education.

By the 18th and 19th centuries, literacy began to spread, especially in urban areas. But even then, having your own desk, pen, and ink well meant something. It meant time. It meant a certain level of wealth. It meant you had something worth saying—and the freedom to say it on paper.

To own a writing set was to own a piece of agency. That’s powerful.

Women and Writing: Diaries, Letters & a Voice on the Page

For women, especially, writing was both an escape and an act of quiet rebellion.
In a world where speaking publicly wasn’t always allowed, the written word became a private stage.

Women wrote letters. They kept diaries. They wrote poetry, essays, even novels—often anonymously at first. Jane Austen, the Brontës, George Eliot—all women who picked up a pen and created entire worlds.

Even the act of corresponding with family or friends gave women a voice, a place to share thoughts that might never be spoken aloud. And yes, their desks were often lovely. Inkwells shaped like tulips. Pen rests made of porcelain. Beauty and purpose, side by side.


Correspondence as Relationship-Building

In an age before texts, DMs, or even telephones, letters were lifelines.

A courtship could unfold entirely on paper. Friends could grow closer from across oceans. A brother could write home from war, and a mother could answer with news of the chickens.

Inkwells weren’t just vessels for ink—they were connectors. Every note passed through them. Every signature. Every love letter, business deal, condolence, or confession.

The object itself—solid, ornamental, sitting right there on the desk—was a daily reminder that you had someone to write to. And someone waiting for your words.


The Desk as a Reflection of the Mind

There’s a reason writers and artists fuss over their desks.
Because the desk isn’t just a workspace—it’s a mirror.

A Victorian writing desk might be filled with secrets: hidden drawers, tiny compartments for stamps and sealing wax, mourning stationery tucked behind the blotter. Everything had a place. Everything meant something.

Inkwells sat at the heart of the desk like an altar. You’d sit, gather your thoughts, open a drawer, uncap a pen, dip into the well… and begin. Writing wasn’t a task—it was a ritual.

And let’s be honest: there’s something romantic about it.


The Slow Pace of Ink-Dipped Communication

You couldn’t rush it.

With inkwells, you had to move slowly. Dip the nib. Write a few lines. Dip again. Wait for it to dry. Think before you pressed the pen to the paper.

That’s part of what I love.
Writing was felt. You chose your words carefully because you couldn’t just hit “delete.” You read more closely because the letter came weeks later, and it mattered.

We lose something when everything moves too fast. Inkwells ask us to slow down, on purpose.


Writing as Performance: When Words Were Worthy of Ornament

Not every inkwell was fancy, but oh, the fancy ones.
Bronze lions, porcelain swans, cut glass, repoussé silver, floral motifs, carved wood, crystal tops. Even utilitarian items like pen wipes and blotters were sometimes embroidered or hand-painted.

Because writing wasn’t just a task—it was a performance.

Your writing desk was often placed in a shared space, where visitors might see it. It had to look the part. The tools themselves became a kind of jewelry for the intellect: not flashy, but refined. A sign that someone in this home had thoughts worth preserving.

Artisans understood this. They didn’t just make tools—they made tiny monuments to expression.


Wait—How Do These Things Actually Work? (A Quick, Friendly Guide)

Because not everyone grew up with a blotter on their desk—and that’s okay.

Antique writing accessories are beautiful, yes—but they were also built with purpose. Here’s a short guide to some of the most common pieces you might see in a writing set, in case you’ve ever admired one and whispered, “What exactly do you do?”

✒️ Inkwell

A small, lidded vessel for holding ink—often glass, porcelain, or metal. You’d dip your nib into it every few words. Many have lids to prevent evaporation or spills.

📜 Blotter

A wooden tool with a curved handle and a felt or paper bottom. After writing, you’d gently roll or press it across the ink to dry it and prevent smudges. The analog version of “save and seal.”

🐗 Pen Wipe

Used to clean the nib of your pen between dips. Some were made of cloth or felt. Others were sculptural—often shaped like boars, hedgehogs, or dogs with bristles on their backs. Adorable and useful.

🖋️ Dip Pens & Nibs

These pens don’t hold ink. You dip the metal nib into the inkwell and write a few lines before dipping again. Different nibs produced different strokes—delicate, bold, or calligraphic.

✉️ Pen Tray or Pen Rest

A small tray or stand to cradle your pen while not in use, preventing messes and ink drips. Often matched the ink well as part of a desk set.

🕯️ Sealing Wax & Stamp

Before self-sealing envelopes, letters were closed with melted wax and a personalized stamp—both for security and dramatic flair.

Fun Fact: Some writing desks were built with pop-up compartments, built-in inkwells, or secret drawers. Writing was an experience—and these tools were part of the performance.

Explore the Collection: Writing Tools Worth Slowing Down For

If all this talk of nibs and inkwells has you dreaming of your own beautifully curated desk, I’ve got you covered. Head on over to the Writing & Desktop Accessories section of the shop to browse our collection.

You’ll find antique inkwells, charming pen wipes, elegant trays, and a few irresistible oddities that would make any letter-writer swoon.

Whether you’re building a desk worthy of a novelist—or just want a conversation-starting paperweight that looks like it escaped from a Dickens novel—it’s all there, waiting for you.

Warning: You may feel the sudden urge to write a letter, start a journal, or dramatically seal something with wax. Don’t fight it. Lean in.

Cart Close

Your cart is currently empty.

Start Shopping
Select options Close