THE BRIC-A-BRAC HUNTER.*
THERE must surely be in the world an immense number of persons who hold, with Balza.c, that to become a collector of anything what- soever is to ensure to oneself an unfailing source of happiness, since there seems to be scarcely any class of objects, from valuable MSS. down to common postage-stamps, which is not deemed worthy of being ticketed and hoarded up. "Prenez Is ache de collectionner quoi que cc soit," says the witty student of human nature, "et vous retrouverez le lingot du bonheur en petite monnaie ;" and accordingly, we find that the indulgence of a mania is very generally productive of a sort of complaisance which does duty for a higher feeling, and is, we believe, often nothing more than the pleasure which the sense of occupation gives to an idle man or woman. Sometimes these manias are the mere offspring of fashion, and that which is of inestimable value to .day may chance, at the bidding ot that fickle goddess, to be cast away as useless to-morrow. But there are, on the other hand, collectors who care nothing for changeable mode, and who value their possessions for some quality inherent in the things themselves ; for beauty, for rarity, for chasteness or eccentricity of design, for perfection of execution, or possibly as specimens of art or manufacture in various stages of development. Such intelligent collectors are not of the common herd, and Balza°, who has described one of them in the most inimitable manner, declares that for success in their vocation three qualifications are essential,—" les jambes du cerf, le temps des flaneurs, et la patience de, l'Israelite." To these another may perhaps be added, namely, a genius for discriminative admiration, and Major Byng Hall would seem to be possessed in a fair degree of every one of them. It is evident, at all events, that he is a genuine bric-h-bracologist—the word is Balzac's, and will probably be considered inoffensive, although the term "curiosity-hunter" is so strongly deprecated,—and his little book is not without interest even for those who have no sympathy with the china mania, understand nothing of the excellence of soft paste, have no special idea conveyed to them by the mention of Buen Retiro and Capo di Monte, and never even heard of Biittcher or of Auer. The writer intends primarily that his work should serve as a guide to the amateur hunter of brie-h-brac, but he intersperses the story of his wanderings in search of rarities with many amusing anec- dotes and quaint bits of description, and the fact that his pages were all written upon the spots of which they treat gives to his little histories a pleasant freshness.
We may not be quite prepared to admit the importance of a due appreciation of Dresden and Vienna cups, Palissy dishes, and "loves of monsters" in gros-bleu Sevres, nor be quite of opinion with Major Hall, that "they purify the thoughts as tragedy purifies the passions ;" but while we laugh at the bathos of a quotation from Schlegel in such a connection, we may own that it is quite possible to choose a less innocent hobby, especially when, as in his case, the riding it involves no very extravagant outlay. Those, however, who expend upon the acquisition of a bit of porcelain a sum which would keep a poor family in comfort for a year, are endowed with a love of curiosities which must be, to say the least of it, but a doubtful blessing, and with some persons, the taste for works of art and eccentric possessions seems absolutely to take the place of a religion. Major Hall says that for many years he has followed the pursuit of a collector throughout the length and breadth of Europe, and while speaking of himself and his performances in most unpretending fashion, contrives to give his • The Brie-a-Brae Renter. By Mijor H. Byng Hall. London: Matt* sad Windus.
reader a good deal of information. In quest of the objects of his predilection, he takes him to Marseilles and Messina ; Paris and Stamboul ; Dresden, Vienna, Berlin, and St. Petersburg ; Madrid, and Copenhagen; each of which places proved itself to be more or less prolific, and would have produced treasures of far greater value, but for the lack of that universal desideratum,— money. Apart from the ignoble desire of possessing what is coveted by others—a failing from which it is very difficult for the -collector to keep himself wholly free—Major Hall seems to con- sider that the greatest charm of his treasures lies in the associa- tion of ideas ; and here he is perfectly intelligible, since every one knows how strong may be one's affection for some quite worthless memento of days gone by :—
" For hours," he says, "I sit amidst my friends, pen or book in hand. 'That group before me was purchased under particular circumstances, and not only recalls to mind, pleasant days, but tells me much of the history of the country whence it was obtained, and the era in which it was produced. Who will venture to say that the lips of a Pompadour or Du Barry may not have kissed those small but exquisite Sevres cups ? Is not Wedgwood paying me a morning visit with his friend Flaxman, as I look on those vases ? Do not the guns of Welling- ton's artillery sound in the distance as I contemplate that glorious group of Buen Retiro ? And does not the Bay of Naples spread itself before me, and the towering peak of Vesuvius send forth its flames, as I handle that creamy china cup, with its exquisite painting of Cape di Monte ? My Chelsea ware recalls the memory of Addison, who dated so many of his pleasantest essays from that locality. My Battersea reminds me of sceptical Jacobite Bolingbroke. At one moment I am at Florence, then at Vienna, Petersburg, or Madrid. For a few minutes I dwell in the Palatine, and thence take wing to Dresden. Now I touch my lips with the thin emerald-coloured glass of early Venice, and then hold aloft the heavier but richer goblet of Bohemia."
But although Major Hall's own peculiar taste lies more especially in the study of the ceramic art, he by no means despises in his hunt for bric-k-brac what most persons would fairly consider as higher game, viz., carvings in wood and ivory, enamels, ancient jewelry, and arms, and would allow each man to cultivate without molestation his particular hobby ; all that he contends for being that love of art should be genuine, and accompanied with a fair degree of knowledge, and that "incurable fashion" should have nothing to Bay to the matter, his indignation against fashion being quite understood, from the many ridiculous instances given of mistakes and atrocities perpetrated under its sanction. One of Major Hall's best stories is that of his little adventure with the Cir- cassian princess at St. Petersburg, who appearing to him simply in the guise of a dirty old lady anxious to drive a hard bargain with the customer who wished to possess himself of the Sevres cups, and having apparently no claim to distinction of any kind, was treated by him with very scant deference. On leaving the house, however, Major Hall's companion, bursting into fits of laughter, informed him of the blunder of which he had been guilty ; but as this had resulted in success, the feelings of the writer were rather those of triumph than of penitence. Berlin, even so short a time ago as the eve of the battles of Sadowa and Koniggrittz, is described as having been in a state of almost primi- tive simplicity. Even on the Linden the cobbler hangs out of his window a pair of boots for sale, and the tailor above him does the same with waistcoat and nether garments, while linen to dry is seen suspended in the lower story, and in a cave below the pavement a barber is pursuing his avocation. Yet Berlin is not a very favourable hunting-ground, although famous for that special kind of porcelain the manufacture of which was first intro- duced in 1750 by Wilhelm Caspar Wegel, carried on by Grunenger under Frederick the Great, and brought to perfection under Frederick William II. Apropos of Dresden, Major Hall gives the story of Bottcher's accidental discovery of the art of making porcelain while seeking to find that of producing gold, of his imprisonment at Albrechtsberg in order to secure secrecy during his researches, and of his subsequent discovery of Kaolin in the hair-powder of Saxon pigtails, as apropos of Vienna he details the rise and fall of the once famous manufactory of that city.
A run through Italy touches lightly upon the beautiful pro- ductions of Murano, the vanished glories of Capo di Monte, and the art resources of Milan, Turin, and Florence, and speaks with deep feeling of the difficulties in the way of restoring the inner man upon an Italian railway journey. The sight of a three-legged table on the platform, in the custody of an individual who looked like a brigand, and but scantily supplied with half-starved roast fowls, hard sanssages powerfully seasoned with garlic, coarse bread, and tiny basket-bottles of light white country wine, must be anything but reassuring to hungry travellers, who, it seems, make a gallant onslaught, and carry the position by physical force, the weaker, as in most contests, going to the wall. This proceed- ing does not commend itself to the British traveller, but may have its advantages, and is, at all events, better than paying half-a. crown for the wing of a chicken, and another half-a-crown for the privilege of washing his hands, as the author says he was obliged to do at Brussels. After all, we gather from Major Hall's book that although the bric-h-brac hunter may occasionally meet with gems and may always gain plenty of information during an ex- pensive Continental tour, his real hunting-ground lies near home, and that London will furnish him with more and better specimens of all kinds than any other city in Europe, and at a cheaper rate, un- less in those exceptional cases where, favoured by chance, the con- noisseur is enabled to pick up something at a price much under its value,—or in other words, to take advantage of the ignorance of his antagonist, a fortunate occurrence productive of immense delight to him who possesses "the true hunter's spirit," although not perhaps indicative of a high spirit of honour. But although Major Hall is very moral indeed in his instructions to his neophytes, and tells them not to covet other men's goods, or give way to jealousy, envy, or anger, in longing ; to practise patience, temper, self-control, and economy without meanness ; and to possess taste, experience, and money ; he does not by any means go so far as to advise them not to get on the blind side of a dealer, supposing such a happy event to be possible to them ; on the con- trary, we fancy we hear his little chuckle of gratification, as he re- lates certain little transactions in which he has come off the victor.
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