If you have ever stood in a marquee at a country-house fair and wondered why the good things never seem to make it to the public stalls, this is, broadly, why. Most of what we accept does not survive the journey. A carved mahogany side table arrives from a probate solicitor in Frome with one leg rebuilt in the wrong wood. A set of six Hepplewhite chairs proves to be three genuine, three copies — almost the right thing, almost never the right price. A “George I walnut” secretaire turns out, on close inspection, to be its own badly-considered 1903 wedding present.
We turn down about six out of every ten pieces offered. We do not enjoy this, and our specialists do not get any pleasure from being suspicious. But a club is only as good as what it admits, and members join us because they have somewhere else to look and would rather not.
After twenty-seven years the list of people we will not buy from is, depressingly, longer than the list of those we will. The two together amount to about 12,000 pieces a year that get past the front gate — those are the ones that arrive at Cecil Court, are catalogued, photographed, condition-checked, condition-reported (in plain English, never in trade jargon), and offered, in strict rotation, to members before they go anywhere near an open listing.
If that sounds like the kind of dealing you would rather do, the door is open. The membership form takes about four minutes.
— M.H., November 2025