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darkemeraldsWilliam the Conqueror's famous battle took place a bit north of Hastings, and it wasn't too long after 1066 that an abbey was founded next to the battlefield, complete with supporting village.
Just short of a millennium later--910 years, to be exact--I came ashore at the White Cliffs of Dover, and before too long, was taken, as all visitors to Sussex must be taken, to visit the town of Battle, Battle Abbey, and, incidentally, the Battle Auction House, where things that were older than the country I came from were on offer to actual non-museum people.
I'd never been to an antiques auction before (and, now that I think about it, have never been to one since), and the thrill of bidding £50 on something--and winning it--was considerable. Especially since fifty quid was a hell of a lot of money to me in 1976.
It was a writing box. It wasn't older than the US, but it was as old as the state of Oregon (circa 1850), and that was still pretty cool. Gorgeous thing, walnut with brass fittings, multi-colored Tunbridge marquetry inlay, carved velvet writing surface, a secret compartment, the works.
Even then, when the internet was scarcely a gleam in some DARPA engineer's eye, I had no real use for a traveling escritoire (though it accurately presaged my avidity for portable electronics), but I loved it. I shipped it home to myself and, many months later when I shipped myself home, I found the writing box had been damaged in transit--dinged in a couple of places, one of the hand-wrought brass hinges broken, the velvet torn.
I wrapped it back up and stuck it on a shelf, and on one shelf or another it has remained for...(*does the math*)...three and a half decades.
Google turned up a nearly identical writing box just now (pictured above). Its price is not disclosed but comparison shopping suggests that it's probably about eight times what I paid for mine. I can therefore calculate the cost of my naive faith in international parcel handling at approximately...a lot. Education isn't cheap.
I think I'm ready to get rid of the Battle box at last.
You know, I think this whole thing is a metaphor.
Just short of a millennium later--910 years, to be exact--I came ashore at the White Cliffs of Dover, and before too long, was taken, as all visitors to Sussex must be taken, to visit the town of Battle, Battle Abbey, and, incidentally, the Battle Auction House, where things that were older than the country I came from were on offer to actual non-museum people.
I'd never been to an antiques auction before (and, now that I think about it, have never been to one since), and the thrill of bidding £50 on something--and winning it--was considerable. Especially since fifty quid was a hell of a lot of money to me in 1976.
It was a writing box. It wasn't older than the US, but it was as old as the state of Oregon (circa 1850), and that was still pretty cool. Gorgeous thing, walnut with brass fittings, multi-colored Tunbridge marquetry inlay, carved velvet writing surface, a secret compartment, the works.
Even then, when the internet was scarcely a gleam in some DARPA engineer's eye, I had no real use for a traveling escritoire (though it accurately presaged my avidity for portable electronics), but I loved it. I shipped it home to myself and, many months later when I shipped myself home, I found the writing box had been damaged in transit--dinged in a couple of places, one of the hand-wrought brass hinges broken, the velvet torn.
I wrapped it back up and stuck it on a shelf, and on one shelf or another it has remained for...(*does the math*)...three and a half decades.
Google turned up a nearly identical writing box just now (pictured above). Its price is not disclosed but comparison shopping suggests that it's probably about eight times what I paid for mine. I can therefore calculate the cost of my naive faith in international parcel handling at approximately...a lot. Education isn't cheap.
I think I'm ready to get rid of the Battle box at last.
You know, I think this whole thing is a metaphor.
(no subject)
14/3/12 00:30 (UTC)(no subject)
14/3/12 00:31 (UTC)(no subject)
14/3/12 00:34 (UTC)The other half of my brain says: AND just WHERE would you put that???
(no subject)
14/3/12 00:46 (UTC)(out of curiosity, what *would* you be asking for for the box?)
(no subject)
14/3/12 01:04 (UTC)(no subject)
14/3/12 04:40 (UTC)(no subject)
14/3/12 09:59 (UTC)(no subject)
14/3/12 10:21 (UTC)It always gives me pause for thought when I'm reminded how lucky we are in the UK for our heritage - and how easily we take it for granted.
Next time you come to England stop off at York and I'll show you the scene of the Battle of Fulford, 1066, and maybe find you a bit of history you can take back - as hand luggage, this time!
(no subject)
14/3/12 10:50 (UTC)Lovely box, though. The laptop of the quill age, just like the Filofax was the laptop of the biro age, and the smartphone is the laptop of the digital age. Not sure what the laptop of the fountain pen age was. Possibly the Moleskine notebook?
(no subject)
14/3/12 11:42 (UTC)I also love antique auctions! The house in Wales and the flat in London are pretty much furnished from antique auctions (excepting the sofas and chairs). My oak wardrobe cost me £5 *G*. I'm a bit of an addict and so tend to steer clear because I find it impossible to and NOT buy something. Ask
The going price for the fancy ones writing boxes that show up at the Morgan Evans (the antique auction I go to in Anglesey) are regularly in the £200-£500 price range, and if your brought that down to London you could probably increase by at least a factor of 2. Damage brings the price down a bit - but if the veneer is good and not blown, then a bit of torn velvet and a damaged hinge shouldn't impact the price much.
Far better it goes to someone who will love and cherish it and you get some additional funds than it sit on a shelf collecting dust. *G*
Good luck with selling it!
(no subject)
14/3/12 15:44 (UTC)it's really beautiful on the outside... how about a look inside? :)