Charles Horner hatpins – get the point?

This week found me researching the Suffragette movement, a term coined - according to Wikipedia - by the Daily Mail as a derogatory way of describing members of the Women's Social and Political Union, headed by Emmeline Pankhurst.

Interestingly, the same newspaper carried a report of how a judge ordered a group of Suffragettes on trial to remove their hatpins in court, fearing they could be used as weapons.

See a slideshow of Charles Horner hatpins Images courtesy of Charles Horner of Halifax by Tom J. Lawson, published by GML Publishing and distributed by the Antique Collectors’ Club Ltd., which supplied them.

By now off on a completely wrong tangent, I learned from another report, dated December 17, 1908, how a woman lost her sight in one eye after an accident in the rush on the first day of a shop

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Devlin silver is the stuff of duchesses and dreams

CONFESSION: until recently, I had dismissed contemporary silversmith Stuart Devlin as the maker of quirky novelties  sold for lots of money as “limited editions” either by mail order or else in shops too exclusive for their own good.

You know the kind of things I mean. The Sunday colour supplements are full of them. Then I saw the massive centrepiece pictured here.

For a start, Devlin is primarily a designer, not a maker, and it was he who conceived this amazing, almost futuristic three-section candelabrum.

See a slidewho ow Devlin silver here.

A commission from none other than the late Duke and Duchess of Westminster,

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'Chocolate antiques' are sweet collectors' items

Technorati Tags: Chocolate , Silver , Porcelain

YOU'RE about as much use as a chocolate teapot! It’s a put-down that’s as old as the hills, but while teapots made from chocolate are as rare as rocking horse do-do, antiques related to the confection are still relatively plentiful.

Click here for a sweet slideshow

“Chocolate antiques” including 17th and 18th century Chinese pots for pouring the stuff and cups for drinking it, together with 19th and early 20th century English silver chocolate pots are sweet collectors' items.

Chinese chocolate cups and pots are described as rare by Oriental specialist exhibitor

Catherine Hunt. She says: “The popularity of chocolate exploded across the West when the secret of the drink escaped from the Spanish. They originally brought it back from the New

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Worth their salt

I'm not fond of salt, unless of course it's stuck to the rim of a glass of tequila. The news from health watchdogs that I might unwittingly be eating pounds of the stuff in my daily diet does my appetite no good at all.

But there was a time and we couldn't get enough. Before the advent of refrigeration, pasteurisation and pressure cooking, packing food in salt was the only way to stop it going bad. Apparently, salt destroys the bacteria in meat, fish and vegetables, making its importance as a preservative vital to the community.Read more »

Silversmiths who kept greatness in the family

by Christopher Proudlove©

Fortunately for my bank manager, I don't collect silver. If I did, the chance of finding - let alone affording - something made by Paul de Lamerie (1688-1751) is remote. One of the most celebrated and arguably greatest of all English gold and silversmiths, De Lamerie was a leading exponent of rococo style and his most exuberant pieces are today seen only in museums. So then, what are the chances of finding a piece by the man who taught him? I thought they were pretty slim, but I was wrong, more of which later.

As our politicians wrestle with the perceived problems of an influx of European refugees, it is interesting to note that De Lamerie was himself a second-generation Huguenot refugee, a victim of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, which drove his parents out of France to the safety of the Netherlands.

The edict was a decree of 1598 establishing that Catholics and Protestants could live and work side by side in France. It granted French Protestants - the Huguenots - their civil rights in a predominantly Catholic country and it succeeded in bringing peace and unity for many years.

However, Louis XIV renounced the edict and declared Protestantism illegal, so the Protestants fled. At a stroke, France lost many of its most skilled and hard-working individuals. An estimated 160,000 Huguenots travelled to such places as Switzerland, the US, Germany, Amsterdam and London which alone attracted some 50,000 immigrants. They were wig makers, hairdressers, boot and shoe makers, perfumers, jewellers, furriers and gunsmiths. The silversmiths among them brought sophisticated and advanced designs. They used a thicker silver and adorned it with higher and more elaborate relief and engraved decoration.

De Lamerie's father, also Paul, was himself a minor aristocrat and on reaching the Netherlands, became an army officer in the service of William of Orange. His son was probably born there, but in 1689 the family left for London and by 1691 were living in Soho, the district having been taken over by French Huguenot refugees.

Though he went on to greatness, very little is known about the young Paul's progress through what was an essentially closed profession. However, records at the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths in London show an entry for August 6, 1703, in which the he apprentices himself to a Peter Plattell (sic) "Citizen and Goldsmith of London, for the term of seven years from this day".

In addition to teaching the boy the technical skills of silversmithing, the Master also gave him the hand of one of his daughters

Platel, himself a Huguenot from an aristocratic family in Lorraine, had probably also been apprenticed in London and registered his mark at Goldsmiths' Hall in 1699. A gifted individual, he made a silver service for the Prince of Wales, who became George II. De Lamerie probably lived with Platel and in addition to teaching the boy the technical skills of silversmithing, the Master also gave him the hand of one of his daughters in marriage. The couple had two sons and four daughters.

Platel died in 1719 and De Lamerie no doubt took over his workshop and his clients. He became a Freeman in 1712 and registered his mark the same year. Less than four years later, the young man had established himself sufficiently to open a shop and workshop at the sign of the Golden Ball in Windmill Street.

In 1731, De Lamerie was honoured by being invited to join the governing body of the Goldsmiths' Company, by which time he was enjoying huge success. Commissions came from all the wealthiest European families and it is notable that all his most elaborate pieces date from this period.

He died in 1751 without an heir to pass on his business, both his sons, Paul and Daniel, dying in infancy.

By way of illustrating the kind of money pieces by De Lamerie fetch today, in April last year, a George II silver-gilt cream boat with London hallmarks for 1736 and weighing 230 grams, a smidgen over 7 ounces, and measuring just 4 1/2 inches sold at Sotheby's in New York for $57,000.

This is somewhat out of my reach. However by chance, I came across this pretty little George I silver sugar caster (pictured right) which is hallmarked for London 1718 and estimated in a recent sale at £700 to £900. It sold for £7,500. Why? Because it was made by De Lamerie's Master, mentor and father-in-law, Pierre Platel.


Picture top shows: Luscious Lamerie - A silver gilt ewer and basin decorated with the royal coat of arms, now in the collection of the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths

Tags: Antique silver, Paul de Lamerie, Peter Platel, fine art, auctions

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Watch out - fake antique silver about, says London Assay Office

The London Assay Office, where all silver has to be hallmarked as pure before it can be sold, took the unusual step this week of issuing a warning following the appearance on the market of a number of fake spoons.

It appears that a number of auctioneers outside London received consignments from one vendor who wanted to sell a number of small collectors' items including trefid, caddy and double-ended medicine spoons.

The spoons were in unusually good condition but had hallmarkeds struck back to front or in the wrong place. Chemicals might also have been used to enhance the surface colour of the metal.

The testing and marking of jewellery and silverware to guarantee the precious metal content of an article has been carried out since 1300 and this, arguably the first form of quality control, is taken incredibly seriously.

The most common hallmarking scams use counterfeit punches or involve the transfer of genuine hallmarks by cutting them from an antique article and forging them in to a more modern one. Both are offences under the 1973 Hallmarking Act.

The relevant Trading Standards authorities have been informed and in an advertisement in the dealers' bible, The Antiques Trade Gazette, the Assay Office warns "extra caution should be exercised if you are offered any spoon or serving pieces for sale, unless the provenance is irrefutable".

Anyone who believes they may have come across similar items is asked to report them to the Deputy Warden, Assay Office in London, Goldsmiths' Hall, Gutter Lane, London EC2V 8AQ, Telephone 020 7606 8971.

Georg Jensen’s gems

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by Christopher Proudlove©

The years 1890-1910 are known as the Art Nouveau period and the designs of almost everything took on a new artistic style that was in complete contrast to all that had gone before.

It was a combination of ideas inspired by Japan, nature and medieval history starting with fluid, whiplash lines and ending with taut, geometric symmetry that heralded the arrival later of Art Deco design.

Craftsmen of the period included Archibald Knox, Dr Christopher Dresser and Charles Robert Ashbee, all of whose work is now highly prized among a growing number of devotees.

Knox, who was born on the Isle of Man in 1864, is best remembered for the 400 or more designs he made for Liberty and Co.

They appear in Liberty's Cymric range of silver and Tudric range of pewter, which were launched in 1899.

Running through much of it is a Celtic art theme - Knox's parents were both Scottish.

However, it is difficult to attribute any one design to a particular artist since Liberty's employed several who were all influenced by Knox's talent.

Dr. Dresser (1834-1904) was another whose designs were manufactured by Liberty's, but silver was just one of his many mediums.

In addition, he designed furniture, textiles, pottery - he was involved with the Bretby Art Pottery Co., of Burton-on-Trent - and other metal work.

Stark simplicity

However, the common denominator to all Dresser’s designs is its stark simplicity.

He found his inspiration in Japan following a visit there in 1876 and later his company, Dresser and Holme, of Farringdon Road, London, imported and retailed Japanese art metal work.

Dresser himself began producing silver items on his own in the late 1870s and in 1881 produced perhaps his most famous design for a particularly quirky, angular toast rack, examples of which sell for £3,000-£4,000 today.

Ashbee, on the other hand, was far from quirky. He was born in 1863 and in 1888 founded the Guild and School of Handicraft in the East End of London.

He too was influenced by Celtic art, but spoke out vehemently against the excesses of the Art Nouveau movement. He died in 1942.

Today, one more name should be added to this roll call of greats: that of a Danish silversmith Georg Jensen, whose talent was until relatively recently overlooked by all but the cognoscenti.

A sale in New York last week devoted for the first time entirely to Jensen’s work not only marked the 100th anniversary of the founding of his company, but also a coming of age in terms of prices achieved.

The sale totalled £4.7 million, almost three times expectations.

Georg Jensen(1866 to 1935) was the seventh of eight children, born into a working-class family living in Copenhagen.

Up to his 14th birthday, the boy worked with his father who was a grinder in a knife factory but was then apprenticed to a goldsmith.

The boy also took art classes and passed the entrance exam for the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, graduating in 1892.

Jensen had married the year before his graduation and the couple went on to have two children, but his wife died in 1897, leaving him with responsibility for the two small boys.

He did go on to marry a further three times.

After an unsuccessful start as a sculptor and art potter, in 1901, he joined forces with a metalsmith, who taught him about Art Nouveau and the Arts and Crafts Movement.

In 1904, with financial backing from a Copenhagen businessman, Jensen opened his own workshop where he planned to produce commercially successful designs rather than reproductions of antique silver, a goal that was achieved by recruiting talented designers who shared his aspirations.

Best known among them was Johan Rohde whom he had met at the Academy and the two became lifelong friends and associates, Rhode designing the important Acorn pattern tableware which continues to be made by the Jensen company today.

Jensen was inspired by Danish silver from the late 16th century through to the Art Nouveau period, producing bowls, tea sets, vases and stunning chandeliers which were snapped up by an eager – but rich – but clientele.

Wide acclaim

The decorative motifs for which Jensen silver is renowned were drawn from his childhood love of nature including grapes, pine cones, blossom and berries.

Up until the outbreak of the Second World War, Jensen silver had won wide acclaim in every major international exhibition of the applied arts.

Its hallmark was the superb craftsmanship that only traditional techniques of hand and hammer, rather than mass-production, can achieve.

At first, designs leaned towards the naturalism of the Art Nouveau period, but later embraced angular, geometric Art Deco designs that hinted at Modernism.

This naturally went down well in America, and millionaire William Randolph Hearst was their first major patron there.

He bought just about all the wares the firm had on show at the 1915 San Francisco World Fair.

Marilyn Monroe was said to be another fan.

By 1920, a showroom had been opened on Fifth Avenue in New York and American silversmiths began copying Jensen designs.

The most successful imitator was the International Silver Company of Meriden, Connecticut, who were cheeky enough to stamp some of what they produced with "USA Georg Jensen Inc." which can mislead today's collectors.

Naturally enough, the work of such masters as Jensen, Dresser and the many other leading designers of Art Nouveau and Art Deco silver does not come cheap.

However, their uniqueness and originality, coupled with their insistence of quality of production will continue to ensure their saleroom success.

Products from such short but well defined periods in the history of design are becoming increasingly rare.

Judging by the success of the New York Jensen sale. the signs are that the price spiral can only continue.

Picture shows:

A silver flatware service designed by Georg Jensen, estimate: $20,000-30,000. Sold for $180,000 (£96,256). Picture: Christie’s Images

Hallmarks of quality

by Christopher Proudlove©

HOME hint number one: next time you clean the family silver, stick a small strip of Sellotape over the hallmarks. Why? Quite simply to avoid them being rubbed away by over zealous polishing. Fact is, many people clean silver too often. It's a soft metal and untold damage can result.

Polish away the crispness of engraving or chasing on a salver or rosebowl or whatever, and its resale value is seriously affected. You might even rub a hole in an embossed area such as the back of a hand mirror or hairbrush.

Polish away at the hallmarks - every legal piece of English silver has them - to the point that they are unreadable and you'll live to regret it.

The value of all but early and rare pieces of silver could be reduced to what a buyer of scrap silver would give you for a chunk of the metal at so much per ounce. The price is presently around a measly £3.50.

So what's so special about hallmarks? Everything.

They are what you might call one of the earliest forms of quality control, because a piece that carries them will have passed the strictest tests to ensure that the silver content is up to scratch.

Moreover, they are a boon to the collector who knows how to crack the code. Understand them and overnight you become an "expert" at deducing where and when a silver object was made.

British silver has been struck with hallmarks applied at the Goldsmiths' Hall since 1478.

Most British silver objects have four small symbols punched into them that reveal an important amount of information.

Most important mark to identify is what collectors refer to as the lion mark - more correctly termed the standard mark.

This shows a lion as though the animal was walking to the left with one paw raised.

'Lion passant'

In heraldic terms, it is described as "lion passant". Quite simply, if a piece bears this mark, then, yes, the metal has been tested and found to be of sterling quality - that is 92.5% pure silver.

Next, look for the assay office mark - the symbol showing where a particular piece was tested and marked as having passed this stiff "quality control".

Hallmarking has been around since about 1300, and in those early days smiths' guilds were established in many parts of the country, each with a distinctive mark.

In time, eight major assay offices emerged: in London, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Chester, Sheffield, Birmingham, Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Dublin.

Today, only four remain. They are: London, represented by a leopard's head shown full face; Birmingham, anchor; Sheffield, today the York rose, but prior to 1975 it was a crown; and Edinburgh, a three-towered castle.

Chester's office, represented by three wheat sheaves on a shield, was closed in 1962.

Next comes the date letter, by which it is possible, with a good magnifying glass and a book of hallmarks*, to determine the date to the nearest year that a piece passed through an assay office.

Letters of the alphabet (but not all) are used in chronological order, changing annually, to represent a year. For example, in the case of the Chester Assay Office, A represents 1701, B 1702 and so on.

By 1726 it was back to A, as it was again in 1751.

The secret of how to break the code lies in the design of the letter and the shape of the shield in which the letter appears.

In other words, Chester 1701 was a capital A in a triangular shield, whereas in 1751, it was a small a in a square shield.

A degree of care is needed to differentiate between the styles of shields and lettering, particularly on small pieces.

But by referring to the handbook, it is possible to date a piece with little room for error. Simply match the date/letter and assay office mark to those in the book.

It should be noted that in 1975, the Hallmarking Act, passed two years earlier, came into effect. It simplified the symbols and made them easier to understand.

Main change, and the one which will be an aid to antique silver collectors of the future, was that the date letter became common to all four assay offices.

Thus 1975 was the letter A, 1976, B and back to A by the year 2000.

Last of the four marks is that identifying the maker. Generally speaking, these are initials and are further guarantee of fineness of silver and quality of workmanship.

Smiths can be identified by consulting reference books to be found in local libraries.

Sounds easy, doesn't it? And it is - with a bit of practice. But the problems start with the pseudo hallmarks that are found on electroplated silver.

While not necessarily meant to deliberately deceive, they can confuse, leading the uninformed collector to believe he owns something precious which is actually base metal.

Fact is, people have been confusing electroplated ware with real silver ever since the former was invented in the mid 19th century.

In fact, telling the two apart is simple: if the marks include the lion passant, then it's silver. If the lion is lacking, or if there are marks such as "A1 Plate" or impressed single initials each in their own hallmark-style shields, it's plated.

Man to blame for the confusion is John Wright, a surgeon, who spent several years experimenting following Michael Faraday's explanation of the laws of electrolysis in 1833.

Wright realised that by a process involving electricity, it was possible to remove a thin layer of silver from a pure block and deposit it over another metal object.

Astute Mr Wright sold the invention to Birmingham manufacturers George and Henry Elkington, not just for a lump sum, but also for the royalties on all silver deposited by his method and all licences granted to other manufacturers under the patent.

The Elkingtons, in turn, killed off any competition by buying the patents for other commercially useful electroplating methods taken out by other companies.

By the time of the Great Exhibition of 1851, electroplating was the recognised method of producing any item that had previously been produced in silver at a fraction of the cost.

Middle class families keen to display their new-found wealth, but unable to afford silver, were filling their homes with the ware.

Similarly, the advent of steam power and other mechanical advances in factories and the appearance of new alloys like Britannia metal (tin, antimony and copper) and so-called nickel silver (really nickel brass) added to the success of mass-production.

The result is a massive stockpile for today's collectors at highly affordable prices. Just don't pay the silver premium for it!

Picture shows: a large and imposing pair of early Victorian rococo revival silver sauceboats by John Hunt, worth £8,000-12,000. Look carefully and the hallmarks can be seen just below the lip of the sauceboat on the left. They are for Mortimer & Hunt, London 1839. The other sauceboat will have an identical set in the same spot.

Graphic shows a typical set of hallmarks. From left to right: leopard's head, town mark for London; date mark for 1801-2; sponsor's mark of Paul Storr; lion passant sterling silver mark.