Top brass in Christie's sale of The Casimir Collection

THE FIRST “antique” I ever bought was a set of horse brasses attached to a black leather strap which, as a feckless boy, I thought my mother might quite like for her birthday present. Truth be told, of course, I liked them more than she did.

See a slideshow of The Casimir Collection

It was sometime before I learned what she already knew: the horse brasses were reproduction (that is fakes)so their attractiveness quickly diminished and I vowed never to be fooled again. Ah well, we can all hope ...

In those days, real brass and copper antiques were worth a small fortune by comparison with today. I remember attending a house contents sale in the 1970s where two sisters and their brother could not agree on how the possessions of their late parents should be shared out.

In the event, the brother, who was clearly better off than his sisters, paid huge sums for anything he fancied, while buyers like me could only stand and watch.

I say better off, but as a beneficiary of his parents’ estate, any monies raised from the

auction would be split three ways, so in effect, whatever price he paid for objects, he stood to get a third of it back (that was in the days long before buyers’ premium!).

Thus it was that I watched in awe as a lowly copper kettle was knocked down for what was then the astonishing price of £75.

Oh, how times have changed. At a car boot sale last summer, I watched nervously as someone who was clearly a dealer pour over a pretty little oval Georgian copper kettle with acorn knop.

He must have picked it up and put it down the least three times before finally walking away muttering that the price was too much.

I stepped up to the mark briskly, inquired how much, eagerly handed over my £10 and the kettle was mine. The bargain of the day, nay the snip of the summer.

That’s the problem with brass and copper, you see. Collectors have chucked out so much chintz, pruned their possessions to minimalist proportions and spurned “real” antiques, now it is only the real diehards that are interested.

Even then, who has the time – or inclination – these days to sit for hours keeping it all polished?

There are still a few of us left, though, and

The first “antique” I ever bought was a set of horse brasses attached to a black leather strap which, as a feckless boy, I thought my mother might quite like for her birthday present. Truth be told, of course, I liked them more than she did.

It was sometime before I learned what she already knew: the horse brasses were reproduction (that is fakes)so their attractiveness quickly diminished and I vowed never to be fooled again. Ah well, we can all hope ...

In those days, real brass and copper antiques were worth a small fortune by comparison with today. I remember attending a house contents sale in the 1970s where two brothers and a sister could not agree on how the possessions of their late parents should be shared out.

In the event, the brother, who was clearly better off than his sisters, paid huge sums for anything he fancied, while buyers like me could only stand and watch.

I say better off, but as a beneficiary of his parents’ estate, any monies raised from the auction would be split three ways, so in effect, whatever price he paid for objects, he stood to get a third of it back (that was in the days long before buyers’ premium!).

Thus it was that I watched in awe as a lowly copper kettle was knocked down for what was then the astonishing price of £75.

Oh, how times have changed. At a car boot sale last summer, I watched nervously as someone who was clearly a dealer pour over a pretty little oval Georgian copper kettle with acorn knop.

He must have picked it up and put it down the least three times before finally walking away muttering that the price was too much.

I stepped up to the mark briskly, inquired how much, eagerly handed over my £10 and the kettle was mine. The bargain of the day, nay the snip of the summer.

That’s the problem with brass and copper, you see. Collectors have chucked out so much chintz, pruned their possessions to minimalist proportions and spurned “real” antiques, now it is only the real diehards that are interested.

Even then, who has the time – or inclination – these days to sit for hours keeping it all polished?

There are still a few of us left, though, and any of us with any spare cash after the festive excesses will be making a beeline for a sale at Christie’s South Kensington later this month.

On offer are more than 300 lots of brass, copper dating from 1500 to 1900 being marketed as The Casimir Collection.

Visitors to Portobello Road will recognise the name as it is synonymous with the finest antique metal wares to be obtained anywhere.

The Casmir family business dates back three generations and "The Brass Shop" in Notting Hill Gate just prior to Portobello Road on the short walk from the Tube station has been a landmark for many decades.

Its situation meant that for many collectors, dealers, connoisseurs and enthusiasts, the shop was the first port of call on a regular visit to the world famous antiques market. But now, sadly it must close.

Samuel Casimir started dealing in antiques around 1890, and was reputedly the first dealer in London to buy and sell old pewter.

In the early 1900s, he opened a shop in Lambs Conduit Street, Holborn and his four sons Louis, Charles, Harold and Jack all became specialist dealers in their own right.

The youngest of the four, Jack, began on his own in 1933, the year Samuel died. After serving in the Second World War, Jack operated from various premises, eventually moving to the shop in Notting Hill in 1952, where he ran the business with his wife Sally.

They were later joined by their sons Michael in 1956, and Ray in 1972 and then Michael's son Ian in the early 1980s. Jack died in 1984.

A particularly fascinating part of the Casimir collection relates to the little-known and often misunderstood so-called paktong silver, which in fact is not silver at all.

Paktong originated in China and is an alloy of copper ores with nickel and zinc. The metal was used by the Chinese for small table and decorative accessories for the domestic market.

Once called “Tutenag” or “Chinese white copper” it is now believed that English and European makers were experimenting with the alloy as early as the opening decades of the 18th century.

The imported alloy was used by silversmiths and by Birmingham brass manufacturers in imitation of silverware.

English makers, such as Matthew Boulton, saw the potential for making candlesticks and other goods from paktong as the metal could be cast, took a high polish and was slow to tarnish.

A page from one of Boulton's books from the Soho factory in 1769 lists 22 “subjects into which it (paktong) may be manufactured”.

Most surviving paktong dates from the 1760-1780 period. Candlesticks are often found in paktong but other items were also created from the metal.

Robert Adam designed paktong firegrates for Syon House and a 1782 inventory of Osterly Park House records the firegrate, fender and fire irons as paktong.

Paktong died out as a product for high fashion candlesticks and other objects in the late 18th century because makers found it cheaper to concentrate on Sheffield plate.

In the 19th century, scientists eventually found how to make the alloy as a nickel silver alloy or “German silver” but this was rarely used to make cast candlesticks or high-fashion objects.

• CLICK THE IMAGE FOR A SLIDESHOW OF LOTS IN THE CASIMIR COLLECTION SALE AT CHRISTIE'S SOUTH KENSINGTON

Perhaps it’s a sign of the times, but by consigning a large part of their stock to Christie’s, the trio are consolidating the business and plan to continue on a smaller scale with their own private client base.

Undoubtedly the best collection of its type to come to the market in recent times, the sale offers a remarkable opportunity for collectors seeking the rare and unusual and who remain bullish about Brasso.

Whether there will be any bargains remains to be seen, but Christie’s are taking no chances: there is no shortage of copper kettles in the lavishly illustrated sale catalogue.

But like the rows of brass candlesticks standing soldier-like to attention, they are being sold in multiples of twos, threes and fours with estimates valuing them at a somewhat optimistic £100 apiece.

A veritable batterie of copper jelly moulds will tempt bigger money, with individuals estimated at £800-1,200, while anyone seeking fireplace furniture for a grand Georgian townhouse or country seat has a large choice of fenders, fire irons, trivets and grates.

There is also a handful of novelty pieces such as a Victorian nickel plated dog collar which is inscribed with the name of the South Cheshire market town of Sandbach and that of the owner W. Cox.

Being sold with a pair of brass nutcrackers and the brass tool, the purpose of which is unclear (at least to me), the collar is estimated at just £50-80.

Interestingly, the collection also includes a small group of brass tableware that originally would have been silver-plated.

The catalogue notes that it is evident from the inventories of palaces and stately homes such as Blenheim, Castle Howard, Houghton and Chatsworth that the production of silver-plated brass “silverform” wares flourished in the early Georgian period.

Obviously it was cheaper to produce larger objects such as tea tables, kettle stands and cisterns in plated brass rather than solid silver, but it is apparently a misconception that this was the only reason.

The craftsmanship of such pieces is invariably of an extremely high standard, and the use of hallmark-like stamps would suggest the likely involvement of silversmiths in their manufacture.

The working of the medium and the process of plating was not straightforward, and it is likely that brass was used rather than silver in many cases for its durability.

Such examples are two rare George II flagons dating from the second quarter of the 18th century, each with a hinged lid operated by a scrolled thumbpiece.

Illustrated here, and they are likely to be the most valuable pieces in the sale, each expected to fetch between£10,000-18,000.

Regrettably, finances demand that I stick to car boot sale copper kettles.