Just how hard was driven home to me this week when fate found me standing beneath a magnificent French chandelier. You can imagine its size when I tell you that the orb suspended from its base, which I could have reached up and touched, was about the same size as a crystal ball and would not have looked out of place in Gypsy Rose Lee’s boudoir!

Above it I counted 24 lights, now converted to electricity, each one held by an elaborate gilt bronze candleholder and the whole thing dripped with what I thought were jewel-like chunks of cut-glass.

“It’s all rock crystal,” said my host, much to my amazement (modesty prevents me from saying who it was and where we were, but suffice it to say he owns one of the North of England’s most charming stately homes).

“I bought in an auction about 10 years ago and everyone including the auctioneer thought it was glass,” he said. “It was filthy dirty and no one paid it much mind, but I did some research before the sale and after I bought, it the owner confirmed it had one hung in a French palace.”

The discovery that the cut crystals were natural and not manmade probably increased its value by a factor of 10. “But the owner didn’t mind, because she knew it was going to a good home,” he added with a wry smile.

The story rather sums up the significance of what is basically a colourless variety of quartz which can be found all over the world. For the scientists among us, it is known today as hyaline quartz and is composed entirely of silica in its purest state which has been crystallised.

Unaffected by intense heat or acid, the crystals are totally clear and perfectly transparent, although when they were formed millions of years ago, they sometimes attracted other minerals, liquids or gases, which became included in their mass as tiny imperfections.

The result of these accidents of nature is that each crystal has its own “personality” and no two are alike. Ancient mystics revered the mineral because of the mists, bubbles and faults it contained, and this, together with the fact that the most beautiful examples came from mountainous regions where it was very cold, led to the belief that they must have been formed by water that had frozen at such extreme temperatures, it was impossible to melt it again — hence its name, from the Greek word krystallos, meaning “ice”.

All sorts of superstitions sprung up around rock crystal: it was thought to contain the memory of the world, the secrets of the mythical Atlantis, the power to heal and, more than any other stone, power is connected to the occult (hence the connection with fortune telling).

Rock crystal jewellery and amulets have been found in Egyptian tombs. Indians in the Americas believed to the mineral could give second sight. When held against the face it could cure toothache, and when served from a rock crystal goblet, poisoned wine was supposedly rendered harmless.

The result of this reverence for rock crystal has meant that objects fashioned from it have been craved and created throughout history. The Romans, the ancient Chinese, the Incas, in fact most civilisations from as early as 2000 BC all crafted treasures that today are priceless museum pieces.

From the 14th to the 17th centuries, the crowned heads of Europe poured their personal fortunes into collecting and commissioning works of art from the mineral. It was then considered essential that every palace should contain a cabinet of curiosities in which the treasures would feature. Often, these cabinets became small rooms stuffed with sometimes hundreds of pieces of rock crystal and other precious objects, made by court-sponsored workshops employing master carvers and other craftsmen who supplied them.

Interestingly, however, the increase in scientific knowledge from the late 18th century onwards caused rock crystal to fall from favour. One demystified and debunked, the magical powers of the mineral fell away and the need to own the finest examples of it fell from fashion.

In contrast, the end of the 19th century saw a complete reversal, much to the delight of today’s collectors. It was probably caused by Europe’s leading jewelers, who rediscovered the qualities and artistic merits of the mineral.

At the World’s Fair in Paris in 1889, a group of them collaborated to produce a magnificent rock crystal and gold Chimera vase which was the toast of the event. In 1870, the 24-year-old Carl Fabergé began to exploit the large quantities of rock crystal available in Russia to make a fabulous range of silver-mounted objects to the delight of his Moscow customers.

Fabergé is credited with making arguably the finest 20th century piece of rock crystal ever created when he made the Winter Egg, inspired by the Russian winter, which Czar Nicholas II gave to his mother Maria Feodorovna. The rock crystal egg was decorated with a frosted motif of 1,300 rose-uncut diamonds and stood on base shaped like a block of ice encrusted with diamond icicles. Inside the egg was a little platinum basket, also decorated with diamonds, and containing anemones made of white quartz with leaves of nephrite.

At the other end of the price scale, Fabergé’s workshop produced hundreds of charming rock crystal objets d’art such as small vases apparently full of water in which stand golden stemmed cornflowers, while photograph frames, cigarette boxes and pendants can also still be found (and afforded) today.

Meanwhile, in New York, Lewis Comfort Tiffany had introduced jewellery with rock crystal set alongside diamonds, while Van Clee and Arpels and Cartier were producing so-called mystery clocks, the hands of which appeared to float in the dial and moved apparently independently of the clock movement, which was set in the onyx or jade base.

In the 1930s, jewellers worldwide followed the Art Deco trend and rock crystal was given its head yet again. Stunningly stylish, and today scarily expensive, angular bow brooches, bracelets and clips with the mineral set in platinum alongside sapphires diamonds and black onyx were de rigueur.

They often appear in the catalogues of the top auction houses – at prices to match!

antiques@chris-proudlove.co.uk

Pictures show Top: The future is rosy: this 1930s bronze figure is by Duvernet and is titled “Oblivion”. It’s worth £800-1,200
Above: This spray of hardstone raspberries and leaves set in a rock crystal vase is catalogued as “in the Fabergé taste”. As a result it’s worth £300-400

If you’re a Russian billionaire, you could do like prominent Russian industrialist Victor Vekselberg and spend some real money investing in a nest egg by master Russian goldsmith Peter Carl Fabergé.

Fabergé turned Easter gifts into an art form with the fabulous be-jewelled creations he made for the Russian Tsars and their families.

You’ll recall Mr Vekselberg was in the news recently when he bought the Forbes Collection of nine of the eggs just ahead of a New York auction that was expected to raise more than $90 million.

Before such excesses, Russian custom had it that Easter was celebrated with the exchange of three kisses and the gift of an egg which was regarded as a symbol of the Resurrection.

The Russian Imperial family continued this tradition in lavish style. In 1885, Czar Alexander III commissioned a fabulous egg from Fabergé as a surprise Easter gift for his wife, the Empress Marie Feodorovna.

Alexander (he reigned from 1881-1894) subsequently commissioned a Fabergé egg for her each Easter until his death, whereupon his son, Nicholas II, took over the family tradition.

In turn, Nicholas (1894-1917) commissioned not one but two eggs, one for his mother – then the Dowager Empress – and one for his own wife, the new Empress Alexandra Feodorovna.

For today’s collectors there is no shortage of “objets de vertu” from Fabergé’s workshops with an Easter flavour.

At the height of his career in the 1900s, he employed more than 500 assistants, designers, modellers, gem cutters, goldsmiths and enamellers in branches in Moscow, Kiev and London, so it’s not surprising.

Peter Carl Fabergé (1846-1920) was born of Huguenot extraction in St Petersburg, where his father, Gustav, ran a silver and jewellery shop.

He trained there and subsequently travelled throughout Europe, before taking over the family firm and developing it to become one of the leading businesses in the city.

The appearance of the Imperial Easter eggs led to a flood of commissions from rich patrons from throughout Europe and far less expensive Easter eggs were made for export abroad.

Many of these small but delightful eggs were made from precious metals and hardstones to be worn as necklaces and bracelets. They still turn up in Western auction sales.

In time, the Fabergé workshops began to produce a huge range of objects but it is the miniature hardstone sculptures of animals and Russian peasants and his charming baskets of imitation flowers made from gemstones, crystal, enamel and gold that are among the most charming.

However, instead of putting all your Easter investments in one basket, why not diversify … and but a real nest egg?

Attractive Staffordshire pottery nest eggs – actually tureens for boiled eggs – like the couple pictured here make charming additions to any breakfast table.

They date from the mid to late 19th century and were made by the same back-street potters who churned out flatback chimney pieces.

Their purpose was simple: once the family’s eggs were boiled, the tureens were filled with hot water in which to convey them from the kitchen to the sideboard or serving table.

There the eggs were transferred to pottery, porcelain, silver or plated egg stands to be passed around the breakfast table.

Nest eggs change hands today for serious money. Don’t be surprised to pay £400-600 for a good old example that is hand-painted and colourful.

Today’s collectors should beware the reproduction nest eggs that abound. They remain popular as colourful receptacles for storing eggs and as such could dupe the unwary should they be passed off as old.

It was the Victorians who made a meal out of breakfast, so the period up to the 1900s was also a golden period for egg stands and egg cups.

If you already collect a certain type of old porcelain, you’re almost sure to find both to match your service.

My love of egg cups comes from my childhood. After scoffing the contents of a boiled egg, I recall always turning it over in the egg cup and pretending it was unopened.

When scolded for having wasted it, I would bash the top with my spoon to reveal an empty shell! Well, as a seven year old, it amused me.

The very first eggcups were probably made from wood, crafted simply from a single block of wood on a turner’s lathe.

Their only decoration was restricted to concentric grooves on the base, or cup, but well-figured wood ensured their beauty.

Nowadays a collector would call such a thing an example of treen and be prepared to pay £15-£50 for a single example, depending on its age.

In fact, you could pay as much as £1,000 for some treen examples, in sets of six or eight complete with elegant stands.

The best are those with turned stems terminating in an acorn knops and a turntable action similar to a Lazy Susan. They date from circa 1730-1800.

By about 1750, porcelain manufacturers had caught on to the idea.

Worcester was among the first with tall, pretty and elegant examples that were decorated with hand-painted floral sprays. Early examples can fetch a great deal of money.

One particularly fine pattern from the Worcester factory worth searching out is called the Queen Charlotte, which dates from circa 1800.

By 1760, the Bow factory was making an exceptionally simple all white eggcup decorated with prunus leaves in relief. Price today would be £500-£600, purely as a result of rarity.

Similarly, in 1790, another all white eggcup was being made in Leeds creamware.

Its only decoration was simple piercing around the rim, but a single example is now worth £175-£200, again through rarity.

By now, manufacturers were offering sets of eggcups with breakfast services, either decorated or plain white and some big enough to hold duck eggs, which were popular in Georgian England.

Caughley (pronounced Calf-ly) was one such pottery that specialised in duck eggcups, made circa 1790-1799, with a handle and hand-painted in underglaze blue flowers.

The purist egg cup collector would go for one example from each of the major manufacturer – say Crown Derby, Coalport, Spode and, of course, Worcester.

Singles of this kind of quality might cost £15-£75 apiece. They’re sure to go up in value, as sure as eggs is eggs!

Picture shows a good mid-19th century Staffordshire nest egg. Best examples are well modelled and painted in vibrant colours, usually orange and black, while the base is always modelled as a basket and painted yellow or ochre. This example is worth the top end of £400-600