“Eye” don’t know

In the words of Tom Jones, it was "not unusual" for me to get daily requests from friends and colleagues (and absolute strangers) to identify hallmarks or value objects, especially once the long and awkward conversation describing everything over the phone, "there's a long bit, that goes down to a little bit with a curve and then a lid", had happily been replaced by an email with a series of images and a polite note.

Nothing so vulgar as money ever entered discussions, payment was never of course offered, I was simply doing this out of the goodness of my own heart (bastards). Though occasionally the object I was looking at might be for sale and I might have an opportunity to buy it.

An old dealer had called to say another dealer (warning this gets quite labyrinthine) had bought "something" but they did not know what it was. Could they, not he, send me a picture to see if I, not they, knew what it was, if I, not he, DID know what it was, they, not he, might want to sell it to me, I, you or a passing dog.

"Just send me the images" I put the phone down and had a couple of pain killers.

When the images came through later that day I was deeply upset to say I had no idea what I was looking at, beyond the fact that it was a small scoop like object, about six inches long with a turned ebony handle and a silver bowl, deep to one side and oddly curved in both directions, like an teeny tiny ice cream scoop, (let me stop you there though, it was NOT a teeny tiny ice cream scoop).

The excitement about it was because it was assayed in York by a rare, late maker, John Bell, that made it interesting and valuable no matter what it was, it also made the mystery of it all the more infuriating.

The Dealer who owned it was let's say "Doris" (names have been changed to protect the innocent). Doris had asked just about everyone living what it was, pictures had been sent to a Museum in York and elsewhere and all that had come back was a resounding "Don't know", it appeared I was not the first man to be called for their opinion but the last, never mind I thought. Driven by sheer curiosity I determined to go and have a look at it as soon as humanly possible.

Doris stood (exhibited) at a large local fair about half an hours drive from me and it was going to be held on the following weekend. I'd been in touch and asked if she would bring it along and IF it might be for sale? She said yes so the following Saturday I was first in the long queue at 7.30am to get into the fair.

I went straight to her stand which was opposite that of another silver dealer I knew well, let's call him David (that IS his name as by no stretch of the imagination could he be described as innocent and requires no protection). I greeted Doris and whilst unwrapping the mystery object, she recounted how she'd acquired it.

She'd been at a small Sunday table top antiques fair and it had been on the stand of a part time dealer, who had no idea what it was and wanted £40, which Doris happily paid. Also at the fair was another silver dealer (we breed like rats) who I also knew (we ALL know each other). She took the scoop to show him, this is where it all went a bit wrong. He knew at once that it was a York piece and though he had no idea what it was (nobody did) he wanted it, really, really wanted it.

"That's not your sort of thing Doris, it's mine, how much did you give for it?"

"£40"

"Right here's £200"

"No, I don't want to sell it just yet but find out what it is"

"Don't be ridiculous, here's £200 YOU don't want it!”

His tone was insistent and bullying the inference was that Doris didn't sell serious academic pieces of silver, he might as well have kicked dirt in her face. Quite rightly the tone and treatment put Doris' back right up, she simply picked it up and walked away.

In the time it had taken Doris to tell me the story of its acquisition, the other dealer at the fair, David, had seen me talking (even back then I was rarely spotted in public) so he came over to see what it was all about.

I should take a moment to describe him, head shaved, short and a face which would not be out of place in a Dickensian Novel, a gaunt hungry face which you would not want to see down a dark alley. There was an hanging air of menace which completely blindsided anyone who had not met him to how outrageously camp he was,

"Hellooou Sir" he said in the voice of the late Larry Grayson "What! (deliberately camp pause) are YOU doing here?"

David was a real character of the trade and mentally as sharp as a razor, he had once tried to sell me an odd three place setting of flatware by describing it as a "Quarter Canteen, Sir",(he always finished everything by calling you Sir or Madam in the best tradition of Pantomime) such ingenuity, invention and bare faced cheek was to be nationally treasured.

David greeted Doris, both old friends and they began to natter as I continued to examine the very odd scoop.

The study of Antiques rests upon learning and research, seeing other items and remembering what you have seen and bringing that to bear on the object in front of you. Very, very occasionally you are faced with something that has slipped, unnoticed through the generations and everyone has just forgotten what it is, it's a crossword puzzle without a clue, it’s that rarest of things an “Antiques Shibboleth” sent to test the very metal of your perceptions and intelligence, an utterly level playing field. I turned the scoop over in my hand and looked up.

My smile must have been broad, broad enough to take David and Doris from their catching up to look directly at me, David was the first to twig,

"You know, don't you?" he said quietly

My smile broadened till the corners of my mouth almost touched my ears.

I said nothing but raised the scoop up in front of my face and then brought it up to below my right eye, then turned it as the oddly, doubly curved offset bowl rested like a glove over it.

"AN EYE BATH!!" David cried. I was so glad he'd been there, not only as witness to the revelation, like the disciples in the Bible when Jesus rose from the grave (a less momentous event in my opinion), but I had to share the discovery with someone.

I cannot tell you how, at this point, every part of my being ACHED to walk away with this in my pocket. But Doris, though grateful, was I could see, not ready to sell.

Here then is a lesson on being open and honest in the Antiques Trade. I knew she'd only paid £40, I knew she'd refused the £200 offered by the grumpy dealer the day she bought it and I knew, now knowing what it was, it would be worth a great deal more.

"Look, I know you don't wan't to sell it today, but I do want to buy it. No messing around I'll put my best foot forward and say £1,500, but please if you get a better offer just say you'll come back to me before accepting it" then I reluctantly bid farewell.

Doris got back to me two weeks later, could we meet up in an Antiques centre in Wiltshire, it was a two hour drive for me but I leapt at the chance.

I don't know if she'd had any other offers even near my £1,500, I didn't particularly care either, just as long as it might still be for sale. We met up and she quietly said that I had been fair, I hadn't tried to buy it cheaply or hold back when I knew what it was, so she wanted me to have it. I handed over the money and reassured her, "don't worry it's for me, I'll never sell it".

Today it is worth, well, more, a lot more but that is not its value to me.

This eye bath I learnt later from Doris, had, after our encounter, been shown to a very senior "Rantiques Oadshow" (it's an anagram, I doubt you'll work it out) silver expert, a chap who had been writing books and giving lectures when I was still an embryo. When he was shown it, I’m happy to say, he was utterly stumped. Though when Doris shared my eye bath revelation he did comment “of course!” and “how rare”. Now I must confess I have never been a confident man, even at the best of times, always second guessing and doubting, fearing I might not know enough (though no one in Antiques really ever does). But now I began to have a little faith in my own abilities, a little confidence, because, unlike everybody else "eye'd known".