In 1839, a customer brought a broken cup to David Haviland, a retailer who ran a china shop in New York. Haviland, as they say in the Big Apple, knew from china, but he had never seen anything like this. Being a particularly determined individual, Haviland eventually matched the cup with one from Limoges—the French city known for its pure, white kaolin clay—and in 1842 he contracted with a factory there to produce china specifically for the American market. Haviland discovered it was cheaper to manufacture fine china in France and ship it to the Unites States than it was to produce it domestically, and by 1853, Haviland was operating Limoge’s largest porcelain facility. However, appealing to American tastes meant that Haviland not only needed bone-white china of flawless quality and uniformity but also engaging, colorful designs. Haviland hired a painter and sculptor named Felix Bracquemond to lead his design team, and Bracquemond, in turn, created an atmosphere that drew artists as renowned as Paul Gauguin, Raoul Dufy, and Jean Cocteau to the firm. It wasn’t long before Haviland china was a frequent guest at the White House. Presidents Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses S. Grant, Rutherford B. Hayes, and Benjamin Harrison all ate off Haviland china. While the high profile of supplying presidents with dinnerware certainly helped the firm’s reputation, in the 19th century Haviland’s target customers were mainly Victorian housewives. And the way to these customers’ hearts, it was believed, was to provide them with lots and lots of choices. In fact, in the more than 150 years between the time Haviland embarked on his audacious adventure and the present day, Haviland produced more than 20,000 patterns of fine china; some say the number is closer to 30,000. To make matters more complex, there have been five different Haviland companies over the years on several continents, including the United States. Leadership of David’s original business—using the signature marks of “Haviland,” “Haviland & Co.” or “H & Co.”—passed to his son Charles, who ended production in 1931. Well before that milestone, David’s son Theodore Haviland had left the family business to start his own company in 1893, with a goal of putting a Haviland china set in every home. Due to the escalating conflict in Europe, Theodore moved his business from France to the United States in 1936, where it continued operating until 1957. Meanwhile, David’s nephew Charles Field Haviland was running a porcelain-decorating firm in Limoges using the “CH Field Haviland” mark. Charles married into the Alluaud porcelain family, eventually running their factory as well. In the 1920s, Charles’ grandson Robert Haviland established his own factory and purchased the rights to his grandfather’s mark. Finally, David’s grandson Johann Haviland had launched a china company in Germany in 1907, which was eventually purchased by an Italian company that sold the brand to the Rosenthal conglomerate. When it comes to Haviland, the name Schleiger is almost more important to the collector than Haviland. It refers to Arlene Schleiger, a Nebraskan who, in the late 1930s, was trying to fill holes in a set of her mother’s china. Much to her consternation, she learned that Haviland never bothered to put the names of its patterns on its pieces. That's one reason why, of the 20,000-30,000 different Haviland patterns, only about 4,000 have been given a Schleiger number. Using the backmarks on the bottoms of Haviland pieces as her guides, Schleiger and her son Dick, both of whom have since passed away, managed to identify those 4,000 patterns—the last volume of their six-book set, which is illustrated by Dick, was published in 1991. Today, Haviland dealers and collectors often refer to patterns by their Schleiger number. So, for example, a plain, white, scallop-edged pattern called Ranson is also known as Schleiger No. 1. Despite all the difficulties associated with collecting and identifying Haviland, the dinnerware remains immensely popular. For example, people love the floral patterns from the 1950s, with their delicate pink roses and gold trim, or the Art Nouveau era floral soup sets that are ringed with bands of green. In many cases, a pattern will resonate with a collector because of the name of the U.S. importer stamped next to the “Haviland, Limoges” stamp, thus giving the prospective owner a chance to buy a piece of local history, too. For those who, like Arlene Schleiger, are simply trying to fill out a pattern, one of the tricks is to identify the pattern’s “blank,” which is the shape of, say, a plate before any sort of pattern is painted or screened onto it. Common Haviland & Co. blanks include Bowknots, Cannelé, Diamond, Double Scallops, Fiddle, Napkin Fold, Silver, and Strasburg. Theodore Haviland blanks include Chippendale, Geisha, Ruby, and Theo Ranson. One particularly handsome American-made Theodore Haviland blank is called Wheat. Finally there are the collectors who gravitate to the non-dinnerware Haviland pieces. For them a humidor in the shape of Mephistopheles’ head (his mouth being the ashtray) is an especially sought-after prize, as are the firm’s hand-painted terra-cotta vases from the late 19th century.