I had my heart set on the spittoon.
I had no practical use for it, being neither a chewer nor a spitter. But it was the one item at the artifact auction that actually pertained to Harrisburg, manufactured by the city’s own F.H. Cowden Co. sometime in the late 19th century. That was why I wanted it.
Estimated sales price: $40 to $50.
I hoped the small, stoneware vessel would get lost amongst the 5,500 or so other lots up for grabs at the (mostly) Wild West auction held today on City Island. Apothecary bottles, Indian-style rugs, butter churns, sheriff’s medals of dubious provenance.
A spittoon manufactured in Harrisburg, Pa.? Who’d want that?
I arrived just as a guy with Guernsey’s auction house was laying down the ground rules for in-person bidding. Speaking above the roar of several industrial-strength fans, he explained that there were no reserve prices, so the highest bid would win the item, regardless of its perceived value.
I was in.
I took some pictures, claimed bidder ticket #112 and had a seat.
The crowd was sparse, maybe 50 or 60, but I wasn’t certain what to make of that. Guernsey’s said that more than 7,000 people had registered for the auction, so most of the action was going to come from Internet bidders. And, in fact, a long table occupied the entire right side of the pavilion, where Guernsey’s staff hovered over a line of computers to track and call out Internet bids.
A bit after 10 o’clock, the auctioneer took her position behind the microphone and announced the first item: an antique wooden yarn winder. Estimated pre-auction value: $60 to $100.
A picture of the item flashed on a screen beside her, at the front of the auction area. It looked like a long wooden stick with handles on either end, but the projected image was vague in the daylight and difficult to see clearly.
“$100,” the hopeful auctioneer called out.
Nothing.
“$75. $50,” she said.
Still nothing. She paused. The bidding was going the wrong way.
Then some hope. A staff member manning one of the laptop computers had an interested bidder.
“$25!” he yelled out.
“$25,” repeated the auctioneer.
“Thirty, thirty,” she said, trying to juice the crowd into bidding more. “Thirty, anywhere?”
Faces looked up blankly, and no bidding numbers were raised.
“I have $25,” she said, drawing out the number. “Fair warning . . . “
“Sold! To the Internet bidder! $25!”
And so started the long-awaited Harrisburg artifact auction, with a sale of an item at less than half the estimated sales price.
Much of the rest of the morning would proceed in a similar way. There were a few bright spots, such as the beautiful National brass cash register, which an Internet bidder paid $600 for (estimate: $300 to $500).
But most of the items ended up more like the $30 paid for “primitive farm implements” (estimate: $40 to $50); the $80 paid for the “large wooden ox yoke” (estimate: $100 to $200); and the $60 paid for the “Oliver Standard Visible (Type) Writer No. 9” (estimate: $300 to $400).
Other items fetched more or less their pre-auction estimates, while a bunch received no bids at all and were passed over.
I cooled my heels, waiting for my spittoon to come up. As it neared, I grabbed the cardboard number from my bag and nervously got ready to shout out a bid.
“Number 1086: F.H. Cowden Harrisburg Spittoon,” said the auctioneer, and the vague image of the stoneware vessel appeared on the screen. I leaned forward to try to see it more clearly.
“$50,” called out one of the guys following the Internet bidding, before I could say a word.
$50? The spittoon already was selling for the top of the estimated range. Oh no.
“$75. $100. $125,” cried the auctioneer, happy she finally had an item selling over predicted value.
Clearly, a few other locals were jumping on the only Harrisburg-related item in the auction, and I was being outbid.
“$150? Do I hear $150?” said the suddenly hopeful auctioneer.
“I have $125,” she said. “Fair warning . . .”
“And sold! To the Internet bidder! $125.”
Rats!
Sure, I had lost out, but at least hadn’t gotten suckered into paying too much for it. Researching Cowden pottery before the auction, I learned there’s a ton for sale on eBay for less than $100, which was my upper limit for the piece.
I stuck around long enough to bid on another lot I had spied at the auction preview the day before in a warehouse at the incinerator complex. My girlfriend liked a set of 10 old-timey glass lamp shades, said they’d look nice in a house we’re having renovated in Olde Uptown.
Estimated value: $100 to $150. I paid $40.
As I made my way back across the Walnut Street Bridge (lights out again) and over to the adjoining plaza (badly damaged planter) and back to the office through the streets of Harrisburg (potholes, no striping), I hoped that my money would be spent well. Money that, years ago, should have gone to fixing Harrisburg.
Note: A longer version of this story will appear in our August issue.
