Under the hammer
He’s done it! With much daring, Roger Field has gained ground in the dining-room with a double-handed fighting sword – before having to retreat to the study with a samurai helmet
THE shenanigans at home continue. Having got the “support” of my children – “It looks great, Dad” – I waited until the house was empty before affixing the double-handed “Spanish” fighting sword I had bought in June at Thomas Del Mar’s Arms and Armour auction to the dining-room wall and awaited repercussions, as one does in these somewhat fraught situations. Thank the good Lord, it looked as splendid and imposing as I had hoped and, once spotted, although not exactly greeted with delight, the long-haired chief interior designer conceded that it did add a certain je ne sais quoi to the room – although quite what that quoi might be she had no desire to discover – and, after repositioning it decorously on a slant, as against a “boring” vertical (take good note fellow sword and gun smugglers, positioning is critical), she agreed to leave it in place. “Reinforce success” is basic military doctrine. Meaning this had to be the optimum moment to “fess up” to yet more ill discipline with my auction finger, not least as, on her next visit to my study, she could hardly miss the 18th-century samurai helmet, complete with imposing ornate brass maedete (sort of large horns affixed to the front of the helmet and once used to make the wearer easily identifiable to his troops), which had just happened to come home with me from the same auction. A couple of chums had already gone straight to it and were in awe of it: there is something about proper old samurai kit that fascinates we westerners. Moreover, it had been a bit of a steal, which is something I notice happens from time to time at auction. Sometimes the Japanese trade is there in force and prices go high whilst at other times, especially if there are only a few pieces for sale, there is far less interest and much lower prices. And so it was that day. To be fair, the helmets on offer had mostly been relacquered at
some point in the past and were therefore of limited, if any, interest to “purist” collectors. But, had they not been catalogued as such, I would not have known that to look at them. In any event, I was only interested in acquiring one for its decorative/evocative qualities; which boxes the couple I had my eye on ticked in spades. With an estimate of £1,000 to £1,400 it was a good buy at up to £1,800, said my man in the know, on the basis that I defy you to go into an antiques shop and buy an ornate, 18th-century samurai helmet for less than £3,000. There was little interest on the day and, to my surprise, it was mine for £900. I’m delighted with it and it looks far better on display than it did in the auction room but, I have to report, my own ninja warrior disagreed, saying that it was sinister and menacing – the very reason I bought it, of course – and it should stay in my study.
I suppose, given this underwhelming reaction meant I should be glad I failed to buy another Japanese lot at that same auction: a katana (long sword) dated 1677 with a “scaly serpent” chiselled out of the fine steel blade and a matching serpent motif on both the hilt, scabbard and tsuba (hand guard). Most Japanese sword blades are plain and their beauty is deemed to be in their construction but I’m obviously a sucker for a bit of eastern swagger and this serpent sword had it in spades. Sadly (or luckily, perhaps), I was not alone in this and it nearly doubled its £900 high estimate to sell for £1,600.
A very different type of sword at that sale was a rare, 1750-70, British heavy cavalry (probably Dragoon Guards or Dragoons) “campaign” sword with an unusually long blade to make it that much more effective. Swords of this period were unregulated and so each colonel chose his preferred pattern for his period in command, making this one even rarer. Add to that the fact that it belonged to the acclaimed military historian – and sword collector – Richard Holmes just added to its allure and this fighting beauty, complete with an early and decorative scarlet cloth and doeskin liner, easily breached its £2,500 top estimate to sell for £3,000. Finally, before leaving the multitudinous delights of Del Mar’s emporium, mention must be made of a very special sword cane
In a farewell interview, Christie’s chairman said when he joined in 1984 ‘the trade bought 90% but today private individuals buy 90%’
that again cut past its top estimate – this a meaty £5,000 – to sell for £6,500. This sleek killer was made for Sir Henry Paget, better known to history as the commander of Wellington’s cavalry at Waterloo, who famously remarked in his usual laconic fashion – he is described in the catalogue as “a dandy, a duellist and one of the most stylish cavalry officers of his generation” – that he believed his leg had been shot off. It had. Thereafter he was forced to walk with the aid of two sticks. All that we know is that this cane was made post 1818 as it has his coat of arms on the gold finial surrounded by The Garter – he was made a Companion of The Garter in 1818. In 1827, he became Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, which made him a target for assassination, although it was equally possible that this was acquired as an earlier self-protection weapon: Regency England was a dangerous place and gentlemen were at constant risk of being robbed. How much, I wonder, had he carried it at Waterloo? Add a zero, almost certainly, and perhaps double it.
Because Waterloo was to the fore – although not “for certain” – at Antony Cribb’s 27 June arms and armour auction. So, a standard 16-bore, flintlock, Light Dragoon service pistol stamped with a GR (George Rex) and Tower symbols, in good condition, sold mid estimate for £700. However, a nearidentical, Light Dragoon example fetched £2,700, just under its more optimistic bottom estimate of £3,000, because it was “of Waterloo interest”. It was marked on the brass butt: III KGL C54, meaning it was issued – and quite probably saw action with – the Third Dragoons of the King’s German Legion, which fought at La Haye Sante. That “possibility” making it almost four times more valuable than its “non-waterloo” brother but not as valuable had it provably been there as the best of the Waterloo provenanced items are; frequently with contemporary inscriptions. Cribb also had a 10-bore Heavy Dragoon flintlock also “of Waterloo interest” as it is marked: 2=R=NB=DS over C, over 54, meaning it belonged to the Royal North British Dragoons or Scots Greys; very much more famous at Waterloo. Thus it fetched more than £1,000 more at £3,800.
Sadly, I failed to spot and bid on a 1759, 22-bore, Royal Horse Guards-inscribed pistol that was obviously miscatalogued as it says, “It appears to have been altered by the French after capture.” Captured from a Blue? Not possible, says I. It must have been nicked by a dastardly French voleur. Ok, ok, I confess, I was once a Blue and Royal. Anyway, it just hit its £800 bottom estimate and I trust it was the Quartermaster at Knightsbridge who bought it to uphold the Regiment’s good name and ensure the missing pistol is back where it belongs.
It was the end of an era as Christie’s South Kensington held its final sale on 19 July. Interestingly, the chairman said in a farewell interview that, back when he joined in 1984, “the trade bought 90% but today private individuals buy 90%”, which is a bit of an eye opener. The last two lots in the sale went to someone who was perhaps thinking of starting his own auction house: the 20thcentury boardroom table and 12 mahogany dining-room chairs, which sold respectively for £2,000 and £9,000.
At Chorley’s on 18 July, political correctness was probably what did for a couple of delightful watercolours by artist and children’s illustrator Ethel H Badcock, RA, who worked in the early 1900s and had probably (almost certainly) never been to Africa. Which probably explains her unlikely painting of happy, carefree Children with Garland Clad Hippopotami in an African Lake (no suggestion that they are among the biggest killers in Africa), estimate £250 to £350, and an equally cheery, A Gorilla With Children in a Coconut Palm, estimate £300 to £500. Too big a danger, I suppose, of hanging these wonderful paintings on the modern nursery wall and, when Mum and Dad slip the kids out of school for a sneaky mid-term safari, the little blighters assume that hippos and gorillas are cuddly and go to hug them.
There were no such problems with a powerful equine watercolour by Lucy
Kemp-welch (1869-1958) of The Plough Team Resting. It pushed resolutely through its upper £1,500 estimate to sell for £5,000. Stranger to my eye – but then what do I know? – was GB Newmarch’s (1828-1849) gargantuan and frankly rather revolting-looking A Prize Sheep With Castle in the Distance: The Empress of Blandings, yes; a sheep, really? Anyway, having displayed my ignorance of matters ovine as well as artistic, I’m delighted to report that it more than tripled its £3,000 top estimate to sell for £9,500.
And, finally, to prove that “good” horses always sell, an unusual and beautifully sculpted silver horse head stirrup cup, dated 1882 – most tend to be dogs and foxes, fish even – which sold at Hansons on 30 June. It just more than doubled its £5,000 top estimate to fetch £10,100: true quality will always win the day.