Armed to the teeth

ONCE, at a local auction, my eyes lit on a handsome, gilt, cabriole (three-legged) ‘hall’ table – not my usual thing but it would have looked great in our house (cue vigorous approval from my significant other). I had watched it fail to raise an opening bid of £600 the previous fortnight at the firm’s ‘Fine furniture’ sale and here it now was, demoted to a ‘General Sale’. “You might get it for £400,” the auctioneer said, dropping a mighty hint (those were the days) where the new reserve might be. Nose down; ears up; bidding paddle poised. Fat chance. It fetched more than £800. “What happened there?” I enquired later. “Doubtless overshadowed by all the finer bits last time but it really stood out today,” was his answer. I agreed, being no stranger to this myself.

Six years ago, Thomas Del Mar was selling off two huge armour collections; so much armour that he split them into a number of sales lest he, first, flood the market and, second, made perfectly good pieces look second rate when displayed alongside better examples. The first of those sales saw eight 16th-century, south German breastplates hanging in a row – it is unusual to see even one – meaning 1570, and, once away from the other armour, it looked way better than in the room. That night, in a restaurant, I showed it to some chums, drawing “Oohs” and “Aahs” from fellow noshers and waiters when one of the wives ‘modelled’ it for us. I don’t suppose it’s every day you see a glamorous redhead wearing a 16th-century breastplate in a London eaterie. Once home it took pride of place on my study wall.