CHRISTIE’S

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 23 April 1927, Page 11

CHRISTIE’S

EVERY week, to the fall of the auctioneer’s hammer on the leclge of the most famous rostrum in the world, thousands of pounds’ worth of art treasures change hands. Quite recently, for instance. £IOO.OOO worth of magnificent paintings by Gainsborough passed from their British owner to swell the collection of an American millionaire. For .150 years this rostrum has been the pivot about which have raged fierce battles, with money as weapons, and the most priceless pictures, tapestries, objet.s d’art, and jewels for loot. About a century and a half ago two youngnaval officers left the service to go into business. One was John Murray, who founded the famous publishing house. The other was James Christie, who started the> now worldfamous firm of auctioneers. Both men were ■ Scots; neither had private means, yet both founded great businesses and passed them on to their sons, along with the even greater heritage of native acumen and canniness. The original James Christie was what is known as a “character.” He was tall, dignified, eloquent and plausible. His auction rooms were next door to Schomberg House, in Pall Mall. One day, as James Christie pottered about his auction rooms, he heard a great tumult from the street. Going to the door, he saw an infuriated crowd calling for the blood of Admiral Sir Hugh Palliser, who had had the misfortune to return home without trouncing his enemies. Christie, without removing his apron, gathered his men .together, armed the.m with poles and brooms, and sallied out to give battle. A pitched battle ensued between the mob and Christie’s stalwarts, and the admiral was saved. Old prints show Christie holding forth from his rostrum, smiling and debonair. He is saying: “Will your ladyship do me the honour to say £50,000.' a mere trifle for a brilliant of 'the first water—an unheard of price for such a lot, surely ?”

— ROMANCE OF AUCTION

LONDON’S FAMOUS MART

Christie’s amazing verbal fireworks soon made him a regular figure about town. He was no rough diamond, either. He had a flair for making friends in high places. He and Garrick were cronies, and' the famous actor often turned into the room to watch his friend on the rostrum. Reynolds, the great portrait painter, and Gainsborough, whose' pictures were destined to fall under the hammer of his friend’s successors, were also his intimates. On one occasion James Christie was “stung” for £SOOO. The story got about, and was grossly exaggerated until every coffee-house had it that Christie was a ruined man. Garrick, hearing the town, gossip, hurried round to Christie. “I can command £20,000,” he said, “It is yours.” Christie gazed at his friend. “Mine?” he queried. “My dear Garrick, what do you mean?” “Why, aren’t you ruined?” exclaimed the astonished actor. _ “Ruined? No!” answered Christie, equally astonished. “I am worth £100,000.” About a hundred years ago Christie’s moved from its old quarters to King Street, St. James’. James Christie, the younger, was now in command. Those stately premises, just opposite St, James’ Theatre, they occupy to-day. The building was erected on the site of one of the most infamous old gambling houses in London. It was in the new rooms that the sale ol Mme. Murat’s pictures was held. Mme. Murat was the ex-Queen of' Naples. The king was, murdered, and his widow fled with nothing but fifteen pictures, among others, Pereginos, Raphaels, and Del Sartos. Perhaps the most historic sale ever conducted by this famous firm was that of Stowe, the ancestral home of the Dukes of Buckingham and Chandos. The then duke had ruined himself by gambling—he would wager whole estates at a sitting. For two weeks the great, mansion was open to prospective buyers. Its marvels of sculpture, paintings, tapestries, wrought gold and silver, and ceramic art were all to be sold. In the state rooms alone were 60,000 ounces of silver.