Not what it seems

..furniture that some lad from East Cheam paid thousands of dollars for was
actually knocked up out of an old Ikea wardrobe by a disreputable Chinese
merchant two years ago.
My own humble opinion is that the reason for Antiques Roadshow’s
success is not the thrill of the antique but the satisfaction of participating
in the great British national pastime of queuing. Sometime the camera pans
over the green and verdant meadows of one of Britain’s fabulous houses,
museums or churches and you see a queue of what must be several thousand snaking
off in to the misty distance. All properly prepared, all in sensible shoes
and seemingly prepared for any exigency of the weather. Amazingly nobody seems
to get too excited, at least not in an American way, in finding that they
have the last surviving teaspoon from Prince Albert which means that at last
they can have their Uncle Tome buried at sea with the woman of his choice.
Just looks of polite interest from the surrounding crowd and a faint “Really?
Isn’t that nice,” from the lucky teaspoon owner.
But more interesting than the convoy of collectibles are the experts themselves.
Philip Mould who can spot the slightest hint of a Van Dyke under three layers
of bitumen and varnish and then have the expertise to restore it to its former
glory and have it pass muster under the eyes of Europe’s masters. Thence
to be sold for an astronomical sum to restore the bells of some out-lying
parish church whose bells were destroyed when a stay canon ball from Waterloo
mysteriously crossed the Channel and sent them crashing to the ground in 1815.
The resident dandies Ronnie Archer Morgan – and Paul Atterbury who seems to
have wandered off the set of a psychedelic cricket match with his multi-coloured
striped blazers.
There are women there whom one would not trifle with. Hilary, Judith and Bunny
represent that bemusingly competent breed of British women who not only ride,
kayak, ride the hounds but could also have put down another Indian Mutiny
with one glance.
Charming and knowledgeable all.
However most of my time is spent watching and waiting for some expert to drop
a unique and irreplaceable artefact. The delicate Chines Vase from the Ming
Dynasty shatters and Aunt Betty’s ashes are scattered to the winds.
My bet is on And McConnell to drop something simply because he has such a
cavalier attitude to glassware. Perhaps owning 30,000 bits and pieces gives
him a chance of making a quick replacement.
I will not have an Antiques Roadshow moment. At some time in the
distant past my mother gave me a silver tea service which I believe she was
given as an engagement present. This means that she acquired it about the
end of WWII. I suspect that the reason for being given this objet d’art
was two-fold; she lacked the room, a total lack of sentiment regarding the
object and a perhaps a recent valuer’s appraisal. I never asked and
maybe these few words may elicit an answer from across the ditch. It is a
quite handsome collection of milk jugs, teapots and other what-nots, with
a bit of nice engraving and not too many dings and dents. The style she said
was Queen Anne presumably named after the lady who became Queen of Great Britain
in 1702. Interestingly Queen Anne was plagued by ill health throughout her
life. From her thirties onwards, she grew increasingly lame and obese. Despite
seventeen pregnancies by her husband, Prince George of Denmark, she died without
any surviving children and was the last monarch of the House of Stuart. She
must have been very tired and completely shagged.
Anyway I think this collection is actually from the Queen Anne revival period
from the last quarter of the 19th Century and the early decades of the 20th.
Therefore with eyes trained by Antiques Roadshow and Mr Google we
can say that the item is late Victorian. And not uncommon. Not in the least.

Over the years it has been cleaned occasionally, more often when we stored
it at my sister-in-law’s who actually looked after it very well. On
its return it tarnished lumpily in various parts of the house, never quite
fitting in anywhere. And we are not the sort of people to bring out the silver
service when relatives arrive.
Naturally it isn’t solid silver, no member of our family could have
let that go by without a visit to the smelter; but it also isn’t EPNS
– otherwise known as electroplated nickel silver. This is Britannia
metal (not lead, as one supposed authority said), but predominantly an alloy
of tin with a bit of antimony and copper thrown in. So lives were not at risk.
Bit like pewter and so really not suitable for a good cup of tea. Probably
worth less the $100. A lot less.
No Antiques Roadshow moment – just a sentimental object that our
daughter will have to deal with.