Virtue and Ingenuity on the Table - Massachusetts Horticultural Society

Sophia Lufkin
Final paper for 568. American Silver
December 18, 2013
Professor Kenneth Ames
Virtue and Ingenuity on the Table:
Floral Imagery on American Silver Flatware, 1870–1900
Among the thousands of silver flatware patterns introduced to the American market in the late
nineteenth century, were hundreds with floral and horticultural designs.1 Ranging from the
controlled whimsical Aestheticism of Tiffany’s Vine (1872) in figure 1 and Lap Over Edge
(1880) in figure 2, to the unrestrained naturalism of Tiffany’s Indian Chrysanthemum (1880)
(figure 3), to the orderly and stylized petals of Gorham’s Buttercup (1900) (figure 4), floral
flatware patterns evolved with the prevailing styles of the time. Although flowers have been
perennial symbols of beauty since ancient times, how may we understand this proliferation of
floral silver flatware? This paper approaches the question through the lens of horticultural
development, in order to see the way Americans were thinking and talking about flowers during
this time. Flatware sets are intimate expressions of personal taste, and to dine daily with floral
silverware—whether adorned with elaborate chrysanthemums or stylized gourds—was to assert
certain values of domesticity, refinement, and virtue about yourself and your family.
The impetus for this paper was the knowledge that silver firms such as Gorham and
Tiffany & Co. owned large reference libraries, housing hundreds of volumes on history and
global art to inspire their flatware and hollowware designers. Upon consulting the list of volumes
contained in Tiffany’s library,2 and finding a number of contemporary books on horticulture, I
grew curious about the language used to describe man’s relationship with nature at this time. I
wondered how their attitude could be linked to the phenomenon of floral flatware patterns. The
late nineteenth century was the era of floriography and the Language of Flowers, an era of
horticultural halls at world’s fairs, amateur botany, and great advances in food quality and
1
William P. Hood, Jr., John R. McGrew, Charles S. Curb, John R. Olson, and Stanley Szaro, “The Berry
Silver Flatware Pattern by Whiting” Silver Magazine (September-October 2004), 26.
2
Tiffany & Company. “Publications in Factory Archives.” (MMA American Wing Library)
production. This is the moment when public gardens were founded, when natural history
museums were opened across the country to satisfy a curiosity for cultivating, classifying and
ordering the natural world, and when the moralizing virtues of a womanly home and garden were
paramount to a respectable life.
The artists at silver firms were interested in looking firsthand at plants for their
naturalistic designs for hollowware, presentation pieces, and flatware. Whiting, for example, cast
life molds from shells, bugs, and plants. But the volumes of popular horticultural texts that the
silver firms kept in their libraries are even more revealing than the plants themselves, for they
prove key to unlocking an entire generation’s hopes, prejudices, and romantic moorings as they
linked flowers and gardening to morality, nationalism, feminine pride, and man’s increasing
power over nature. This paper will consider the quantitative and qualitative ways that silver
designers translated these popular notions into flatware patterns, and by tracing the development
of floral patterns throughout the late nineteenth century, will suggest that for a number of
reasons, the dining table was the next logical extension of Americans’ idealization of fruits,
flowers, and gardening.
WHY FLATWARE?
Although similar trends existed in contemporary hollowware or presentation pieces, this paper
focuses on flatware patterns, because silverware seems a more immediately accessible form than
hollowware, and it reached a wider audience than rarified trophies or presentation pieces. When
entertaining, one’s flatware is what guests will personally hold and use—it is therefore one of the
most intimate expressions of self, taste, and refinement.
2
In addition, flatware was the bread and butter of the silver industry. Many firms released
new patterns nearly every year, and these reflected the pulse of the market and changing
contemporary taste faster than other objects that were not updated as frequently.
However, flatware presents a few challenges to study. While a pattern’s introduction date
is generally well documented for major firms, it is often tricky to determine the run of a given
pattern. In my research I consulted the yearly Gorham catalogs from 1880 to 1909, and even
within Gorham, there was a year-to-year inconsistency of how flatware patterns were listed.
Some years had multi-page inserts for newly introduced patterns, while barely mentioning others
that had remained in production from previous years. Other year’s catalogs listed a full selection
of active and inactive patterns. In the industry jargon, “active” patterns are still being produced
on speculation for the market, while “inactive” patterns are only potentially available for special
order or replacement pieces. Once a pattern is “obsolete,” the dies are too worn to be unusable,
and have likely—but not necessarily—been destroyed. Actual practices for any given pattern
varied not only within a given firm, but also from firm to firm. No consistent records have been
kept of the lifetime run of any given pattern. Because of this uncertainty, my quantitative study is
limited to the introduction years of flatware patterns. It is worth mentioning also that some firms
changed the names of patterns without warning or explanation; also, it was not uncommon for a
particular pattern to be released under different names for different regional markets.3
If the Gorham catalogues proved inconsistent, Tiffany’s were downright mute about
silver patterns for the nineteenth century. Although they devote pages to the variety of flatware
utensils offered—from asparagus tongs to ice cream knives—their yearly Blue Book catalogs do
3
Charles H. Carpenter, Gorham Silver: 1831–1981 (New York: Dodd, Mead & Co.), 1982, 292.
3
not include flatware pattern names or descriptions before 1904, or after 1917.4 For Tiffany,
therefore, I had to rely on secondary sources for dates of introduction.
Another limitation of this study is that it does not include silver plated flatware. Once
again, the documentation for patterns in silver plate was inconsistent, and its sheer volume made
it unwieldy. However, I do not believe that the absence of silver plate changes the conclusions of
this study or the discussion that follow. Through my research of contemporary texts, it is clear
that the moralizing attitudes towards flowers and gardening of upper class women and men
buying sterling flatware were largely the same as those of the middle- and upper middle-class
who bought silver plate. As expected, though, certain stylistic shifts experienced a lag between
elite and lower circles. If anything, the affinity for silver plated floral flatware may have been
greater than for sterling, as middle class consumers associated flowers and gardens with
aspirational feminine virtues and leisure.
It must also be said that, while I discuss certain not-full-line patterns, I have not included
these in my quantitative study, simply because the records lack specific data for when these
incomplete patterns were introduced or discontinued. This exclusion may depress the numbers
somewhat, as from my own observation it appears that a great number of incomplete patterns
featured floral or vegetal designs, such as Tiffany’s Blackberry, Strawberry, and Cherry lines. I
have done my best to include the variety of optional engraving, chasing, appliqué, and etching
patterns that may be added to standard patterns such as Gorham’s Antique.
A final caveat is that this study does not specifically discuss, except in passing, the influence
of the Japanesque aesthetic taste in relation to American floral or vegetal patterns on silver. Nor
do I include depictions of aquatic or animal life here; although it is certainly a related story, it is
4
Observed in my own research; corroborated by William P. Hood, Jr., Tiffany Silver Flatware: When
Dining Was an Art: 1845–1905, (England: Antique Collector’s Club), 1999, 170.
4
one that has been thoroughly researched. This paper will consider a different question: the moral,
coded, and often nationalist attitude towards American flowers, gardening, and horticulture that
also found its way into silver flatware of the time.
METHODS AND FINDINGS:
The late nineteenth century is well known not only for the explosion of silver flatware patterns,
but also the proliferation of specialized dining utensils, such as sardine or strawberry forks. With
genteel dining at the forefront of refined culture, it is no wonder that the decades leading up to
1900 saw such a rise in creative and expressive flatware patterns.
Although flatware of the early nineteenth century, and through the 1850s, had relatively
linear designs, by the 1870s floral-inspired patterns were becoming increasingly popular
alongside plain designs like Tiffany’s Antique or Queen Anne (both 1870) (figure 5a-b). With
new patterns introduced every year, the variety offered from even one firm is astounding. To
make sense of the overwhelming numbers, I used the Gorham catalogs from 1880–1909, as well
as Charles Carpenter’s Gorham Silver: 1831–1981, Carpenter’s Tiffany Silver, and William P.
Hood’s Tiffany Silver Flatware: When Dining Was an Art: 1845–1905, to compile a list of all
flatware patterns introduced by Tiffany and Gorham between roughly 1865 and 1910
(appendices A and B). For each firm, I listed the patterns chronologically by date of
introduction, grouping them by five-year increments. The two numbers after each pattern name
indicate the year of introduction.
I sorted the patterns by whether or not they included floral or plant motifs as the major
decorative scheme, or not, or whether they included minor floral elements in support of a larger
design theme. After each five-year section, I calculated the percentage of patterns that included
floral elements. For simplicity, I included the patterns with minor floral motifs with the dominant
5
floral patterns in my calculation. Even though they are not entirely devoted to flowers, their
inclusion signified to me that designer and consumer alike were still keen to have flowers on
their flatware.
For Tiffany, the percentage of patterns including floral motifs peaked during the decade
leading up to 1900, before dropping precipitously after the turn of the century. Gorham floral
patterns followed a slightly longer curve, beginning their rise around 1880, dipping, and then
peaking in the first years of the twentieth century, before dropping off. Tiffany’s output was
considerably smaller, as they produced a total of only twenty-three full line sterling patterns
between 1869 and 1905, compared to the over 140 that Gorham released during this time.5 It is
true, though, that Tiffany produced a number of incomplete lines, and perhaps the popularity of
these and older patterns easily carried their yearly market.
In terms of sheer numbers, certain years saw more floral designs than others. Gorham
introduced fifteen such patterns in 1880, and eight species-specific patterns in 1885, including
Hawthorne, Laurel, and Tulip. In 1894, perhaps due to the blooming interest in flower
cultivation following the horticultural displays at the 1893 Columbian World Exposition,
Gorham introduced six species-specific patterns, including Cherry Blossom, Orchid, and Poppy.
Although nowhere near as ubiquitous as flowers, fruits and vegetables decorated a
number of flatware patterns in the late nineteenth century, such as the whimsical wheat,
tomatoes, grapes, and gourds on Tiffany’s Vine (1872), Lap Over Edge (1880), and their
incomplete Blackberry and Strawberry lines (1891–1907). Other firms introduced fruit and
vegetable lines as well, including Pomona (1881) by Towle & Son, Newburyport, MA; Autumn
(1888) by Whiting & Co., North Attleboro, MA; and Berry (1880–5) by Whiting. Other flatware
5
William P. Hood, Jr., “Tiffany’s Vine Pattern Flatware,” Silver Magazine (September-October 1999),
26.
6
patterns included engraved or applied fruit decoration, such as the optional embellishments to
Whiting’s Antique and Gorham’s Hammered (both 1880s), which included appliqué cherries,
pomegranates, and other fruits.
The design of floral patterns changed with the dominant style trends of the age. In the
1870s, floral flatware reflected the Japanesque influence in whimsical Aestheticism, visible in
Tiffany’s Vine (1872) (figure 1). The 1880s saw a rise in mimetic naturalism from Gorham’s
Bamboo (1882) (figure 6), in which each handle is cast as a single bamboo stalk, and Tiffany’s
Indian Chrysanthemum (1880) (figure 3), in which the abundance of foliage and petals
dominates the handles, defining rather than conforming to the outline. The 1890s saw a rise in
stylizing, from Tiffany’s Broom Corn (1890) (figure 7) to the rococo revivalism of Gorham’s
Imperial Chrysanthemum (1894) (figure 8). Art Nouveau flatware found expression in George
Shiebler’s Flora (1889) (figure 9) and Fiorito (figure 10), although these were not very
commercially successful. More typical of turn of the century designs were the small, stylized
petals that adorned patterns with familiar names and flowers such as Gorham’s Buttercup (1900)
(figure 4).
But aside from these overarching style trends, which were also expressed in
contemporary modes of flower arranging, the popularity of floral flatware grew and waned with
Americans’ interest in horticulture. On a grand scale, this was manifest in public parks, country
estates, and world’s fairs. On a personal level, this was reflected through home gardening, and in
the way people expressed their thoughts and emotions through coded messages in flowers. As we
move through the late nineteenth century, contemporary popular books on horticulture—
including the very ones that Tiffany’s and Gorham’s designers may have consulted—will be our
guide to the language and rhetoric of flowers.
7
FLORIOGRAPHY TO FLOWER ARRANGEMENTS: PLANTS IN NINETEENTH-CENTURY LIFE
Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers
And tell me the wish of thy heart in flowers.6
The first key to understanding the nineteenth-century interest in flowers is the long-standing
romantic notion of the Language of Flowers, or floriography. This was a coded scheme by which
each type of flower or plant represented a certain virtue or emotion; for example, the lily
represented purity, bulrush represented indecision, and the tulip was a declaration of love.7
Nineteenth century men and women regularly sent one another bouquets with hidden messages
encoded in the variety and arrangement of the flowers. Floriography dictionaries proliferated,
and these handbooks were popular in all classes throughout most of the nineteenth century. The
English author Robert Tyas first published The Language of Flowers in 1836, and this dictionary
was reprinted in America and Britain throughout the nineteenth century (figure 11 depicts the
embossed and gilded cover of his 1869 edition). In his book, Tyas asserts that the symbolism and
language of plants predates modern man’s verbal languages, thereby giving floriography an
instinctual and organic value sure to excite nineteenth-century romantics.8 Floriogrpahy
dictionaries were often written by women for women, such as Kate Greenaway’s short volume,
The Language of Flowers (1884), which was popular throughout American homes. More
elaborate dictionaries were also published, and this range is testament to floriography’s persistent
lure for women of both upper and middle classes. For example, Cordelia Harris Turner was an
aristocratic New York lady who published the Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture in 1884. This
luxuriously illustrated and embossed leather-bound folio contains over four hundred pages of
6
“A Lady,” Flora’s Dictionary (Baltimore: Fielding Lucas), 1831, title page.
Cordelia Harris Turner, Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture (New York: Townsend Mac Coun.) 1884,
index.
8
Robert Tyas, The Language of Flowers (London: George Routledge and Sons), 1869, v.
7
8
symbolic flower definitions and home gardening tips, combining the sentimental romanticism of
floriography with sophisticated horticultural advice. Each entry of the dictionary lists a technical
description of the plant, its associated emotion, and several poems relating to its sentimental
significance. Turner’s volume enjoyed undoubtedly wide success as it followed her 1878 book
The Floral Kingdom; Its History, Sentiment, and Poetry, a Dictionary of More than 300 Plants,
for which the beloved poet William Cullen Bryant even wrote a letter and poem for the preface.9
Symbolic floral decoration saturated many aspects of women’s lives, from flower
arrangements to ladies’ samplers, wallpaper, and stationary.10 And indeed, the proliferation of
late-nineteenth-century floral silver flatware patterns cannot be separated from the widespread
interest in floriography. Single-species patterns could be taken to reflect the tastes and virtues of
the woman and family who owned them; for example, the Californian silversmith William
Vanderslice’s Sunflower flatware pattern (figure 12), released in the 1870s, would have
represented “pride and appreciation.” Gorham’s Tulip pattern (1885), which represented “a
declaration of love,”11 was sure to be a prized gift from a husband to his wife, and Whiting’s Lily
of the Valley (1885), would signify a “return of happiness.”12
In addition to patterns dedicated solely to one pattern, firms also produced sets of coffee
spoons, for example, with each spoon displaying a different flower. For example, Shepard
Manufacturing Company produced a set of enameled sterling Flora spoons around 1900 (figure
13), with twelve different handles ranging from forget-me-not (“true love and remembrance”) to
9
Turner, Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture, xii–xiii.
Robert M. Wilhelm, “Shepard’s Flora Spoons and Fruit Forks, Silver Magazine (September-October
2010), 36.
11
Turner, Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture, 306.
12
Ibid., 190.
10
9
orchid (“delicate beauty, refinement, love”).13 For a nineteenth-century woman entertaining with
such a set, handing any given spoon to one of her guests was a loaded gesture, as they were sure
to immediately grasp the meaning behind each flower.
All the flowers in Shepard’s Flora represented virtues, but not all flowers and plants were
imbued with positive meanings. By tracing which flowers were used in silver flatware, we may
begin to guess when floriography lost its appeal. If poppies were understood to mean alternately
“consolation” and “extravagance,” and buttercups meant “distrust,”14 and yet Gorham was
confident enough to produce a full-line Poppy pattern in 1894, and Buttercup in 1900, we must
assume that Gorham’s consumers were no longer interested in the flowers’ symbolic meaning.
Indeed, it seems that the interest in floriography had waned among the upper classes by the turn
of the twentieth century. Gertrude Jeckyll, an influential English landscape designer and
horticulturalist whose many books were published in the United States, wrote in her 1901 Home
and Garden that she was glad to be finally free to “pick a bunch of primroses in the wood …
without having to consider whether we have done it in such a way as to suggest a ship coming
home or a matrimonial engagement in contemplation.”15 This is not to say that the overall
interest in flowers decreased; rather, an interest in floriography was replaced in the twentieth
century by an interest in refined flower arranging among elite circles.16 As so many trends are
slow to trickle down, it is understandable that middle- and upper-middle-class women would
continue to buy small coffee sets such as Shepard’s Flora spoons, while the richer women
13
Robert M. Wilhelm, “Shepard’s Flora Spoons and Fruit Forks, Silver Magazine (September-October
2010), 36.
14
Turner, Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture, 61.
15
Gertrude Jeckyll, Home and Garden (New York: Longmans, Green, and Co.), 1901, 142.
16
U. P. Hedrick, A History of Horticulture in America; with an addendum of books published from 18611920 by Elisabeth Woodburn (Portland, OR: Timber Press.), 1988, 568.
10
buying full-patterned Gorham such as Buttercup and Poppy would have long moved past
floriography.
A growing interest in flower arranging among elite American women paralleled a change
in the depiction of flowers on flatware. The late-nineteenth-century Aesthetic approach to,
among other things, planting and floral display, had given way to an exuberant mimetic
naturalism in the 1890s, which was replaced by a restrained and simpler style at the turn of the
century. Perhaps in reaction to the overgrown abundance of flowers on display at the World
Columbian Exposition of 1893, or on Gorham’s Cluny (1883) (figure 14) or St. Cloud (1886)
(figure 15) patterns, society ladies such as Gertrude Jeckyll advocated “restraint and
moderation”17 in gardening and indoor flower arrangements. In Home and Garden, she links the
ability to tastefully arrange flowers to class lines of refinement and upbringing. While a few
decades prior, having an abundantly fertile garden was desirable, Jeckyll derided this vulgar
approach in 1901: the “old tight pudding-like arrangement of many flowers crammed together”
is now only seen, she writes, when “the mistress of a house or her grown-up daughters have not
cultivated their taste.”18 Elite women like herself already knew that the genteel way of arranging
was to group flowers freely, “with long stalks and plenty of foliage.”19 Like many good things
that have become common and vulgar, Jeckyll writes, arranging “can be easily overdone”—
especially when “so great is the love of flowers nowadays.”20
Silver flatware designers were certainly attuned to the changing styles of flower arranging.
Indeed, trends in home gardening paralleled those in great horticultural exhibition halls, just as
they paralleled wider stylistic trends in American and European silver and domestic goods. After
17
Jeckyll, Home and Garden, 139.
Ibid., 139.
19
Ibid., 135–6.
20
Ibid., 139.
18
11
the mid-1890s, the fashion in decorative arts tended towards simple, cleaner lines. Compare, for
example, the grouping arrangements of flowers in Gorham’s Cluny (1883) (fig. 14), St. Cloud
(1886) (fig. 15), Eglantine (1870) (fig. 16), and Delhi (1880) (fig. 17), to the same firm’s later
Imperial Chrysanthemum (1894) (fig. 8), Meadow (1897) (fig. 18), Lancaster (1897) (fig. 19),
Cambridge (1899) (fig. 20), or Buttercup (1900) (fig. 4). The earlier patterns show crowded
asymmetrical arrangements of flower heads and petals that cluster across the entire handle. The
flowers in the later patterns are smaller, and conform more to the handle outline. There are fewer
flowers per piece in the later patterns, and although it is still possible to identify individual roses
in Lancaster, chrysanthemums in Imperial Chrysanthemum, and buttercups in Buttercup, the
flowers are more stylized and generic than the peonies and sunflowers in Cluny, for example.
Compare Tiffany’s Indian Chrysanthemum (1880) (figure 3) to Gorham’s Meadow (1897)
(figure 18): although both patterns are largely composed of slender leaves that follow both sides
of the handle, Indian Chrysanthemum is hairy and organic, with many more leaves. Meadow’s
leaves and crowning flower are less voluptuous and mimetic than Chrysanthemum’s. While the
former’s leaves encroach into the engraving blank in the center, Meadow’s cleanly conform to
the edge, leaving a neatly rounded clearing in the center. If Indian Chrysanthemum represented
the overgrown aesthetic that Jeckyll disliked, the calm and restrained arrangement of Meadow
was representative of the new taste.
Tiffany’s and Gorham’s early twentieth-century patterns maintain clean lines, and reflect if
anything a neo-baroque affinity for C-scrolls; they do not truly broach the Art Nouveau whiplash
curve in their flatware patterns. More avant-garde and experimental silversmiths such as George
Shiebler did, though. Beginning with his Flora pattern in 1889 (figure 9), Shiebler’s floral
designs achieve a weightless naturalism that Gertrude Jeckyll would have no doubt approved. To
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hold a place setting of floral flatware in one’s hand was akin to holding a bouquet of flowers, and
refined taste in flatware design was just as important an ability as flower arranging.
HOME GARDENING AS A DOMESTIC AND CIVIC VIRTUE
As life became more comfortable, and food became more abundant in the late nineteenth
century, floriculture in domestic gardens increased as the emphasis shifted from sustenance to
pleasure.21 Amateur botany books flooded the market, including books with general tips, as well
as those dedicated to growing specific flowers. Often, the flowers most popular in women’s
home gardens were the same ones adorning contemporary silver flatware sets. Not to overdo it,
but just to demonstrate the popularity of specific flowers, consider that just at the same time as
James Morton’s home guide to Chrysanthemum Culture in America (1891), and F. S. Matthews’
The Golden Flower—Chrysanthemum (1890)22 were available from booksellers, Gorham’s
Chrysanthemum (1885) and Imperial Chrysanthemum (1894), Shiebler’s Chrysanthemum
(1885), and Tiffany’s Indian Chrysanthemum (1880) flatware sets were stamped and ready to
adorn ladies’ dinner tables, just as a bouquet of the same flower graced their mantles. Similarly,
John Lewis Childs’s A Guide to Lily Culture was published in 1888 alongside Whiting’s Lily of
the Valley flatware pattern (1885), and Gorham’s Lily had been popular since its introduction in
1870.
The link between ladies’ home gardens, their dinner table, and their domestic virtue was
well defined in the late nineteenth century. The home was the woman’s sphere, a haven of love,
religion, and morality amidst the corrupt world of business and trade outside. Tending a healthy
garden, providing nourishing food for one’s family and guests, and laying a gracious table were
21
22
Hedrick, A History of Horticulture in America, 542.
Ibid., 577.
13
the hallmarks of a morally upright woman. Gardening guides written by ordinary housewives,
such as Mrs. S. O. Johnson’s Every Woman Her Own Flower Gardener (1871), extolled the
morality and virtue of home gardening as “certain evidence of taste, refinement, and culture.”
Many books addressed both male and female audiences, such as William Strong’s Fruit Culture
and the Laying Out and Management of Country Homes (1885), which warns that while “poor
culture is sure to disappoint … the art of developing to perfection is, to a degree, entertaining
into the beneficent work of the Creator.”23 This moralizing rhetoric is carried throughout many
home guides, written by now-anonymous amateur botanists who contrasted the pure home and
garden to the dangerous world beyond. William Strong, for example, characterizes gardening as
“essentially elevating and purifying… a relief and an antidote against the selfish influences of
commercial pursuits.”24 The “infinite variety of the floral world” was seen as a direct
embodiment of God’s creation;25 flowers, like poetry, were said to “elevate the soul… and
awaken a depth of feeling that almost entirely obliterates selfishness, and opens the heart to
generous sympathies and warm impulses.”26 This downright religious tone was prevalent; for
example, Edward Sprague Rand, Jr., an active member of the Massachusetts Horticultural
Society, wrote in his Flowers for the Parlor Garden (1863): “It has been said that no botanist
was ever an infidel … There is a secret influence arising from these bright gems of nature, which
imperceptibly makes one holier and purer.”27 For rich Americans who could afford the time and
money to keep a well-tended garden, their flowers were a source of pride, a veritable nineteenthcentury Calvinist mark of the elect. For middle or upper-middle class homes without land for a
23
William Strong, Fruit Culture and Laying Out and Management of Country Homes (Boston, 1885), 12.
Strong, Fruit Culture, 13.
25
Turner, Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture, iii.
26
Ibid., iv.
27
Edward Sprague Rand, Jr., Flowers for the Parlor Garden, (Boston: J. E. Tilton & Co.) 1863, 9.
24
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garden, a Wardian case or terrarium would do, and as the guides urged, even the poor would
stand to benefit from “at least a single plant.”28
As for flowers on silver flatware, Edward Rand insisted that the entire family may be
improved with plants inside the house from their “silent… insensibly ennobling influence.”29 For
a woman to lay her table with a floral pattern—especially, perhaps, one signifying a noble virtue
in floriography—was to uplift, soothe, and inspire her family. While entertaining, her floral
flatware would serve as a constant reminder to guests not only of her hospitality and wealth, but
of the feminine virtues she espoused through her garden and closeness to flowers.
This morality through nature is also linked to the rise of the City Beautiful Movement,
which redoubled popular interest in home and public gardening. While an individual garden
uplifted one’s own family, public town gardens would secure “wholesome recreation, comfort,
beauty, and healthfulness” for the whole community.30 For Americans cultivating their own
private garden, contributing to a civic garden, or eating home-grown fruit with a floral-patterned
fork, this morality would have been an ever-present motivator.
Home gardening seed and bulb catalogues became increasingly accessible to middle class
Americans, evolving from textual lists in the 1850s to rich descriptions of fruits and flowers,
with illustrated and colored images by the late nineteenth century, to encourage and inspire the
amateur gardener.31 After 1900, the gardens and landscaping of country houses became part of
America’s national pride. Folio books illustrating grand estates in the Northeast and other
enclaves of the rich were published and widely read, such as Oliver Bronson Capen’s Country
Homes of Famous Americans (1902). As Americans of all classes celebrated flowers in their
28
Turner, Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture, 329.
Rand, Flowers for the Parlor Garden, 10.
30
Elias Long, Ornamental Gardening for Americans (New York: Orange Judd Company), 1884, 281.
31
Hedrick, A History of Horticulture in America, 524.
29
15
gardens, the wealthy that could afford sterling flatware also adorned their tables with floral silver
and the virtues it represented. Indeed, the only people who could have afforded certain elaborate
patterns—such as Shiebler’s Flora (1889) (figure 9) and Tiffany’s Vine (1872) (figure 1), in
which each type of utensil was adorned with a different fruit or floral motif, or Lap Over Edge
(1880) (figure 2), one of Tiffany’s most celebrated and elaborated services, in which every
single piece in the set featured different vegetal, animal, or floral designs—were those whose
country estates could have been featured in Capen’s book. Nonetheless, a nationalist pride had
begun to emerge surrounding the fertile and prolific American soil, which was celebrated in
museums, world’s fairs, and horticultural shows.
CLASSIFYING, IMPROVING, EXHIBITING
Horticultural and floral scientific developments dominated the public imagination in the late
nineteenth century. With home gardening on the rise, and new fruits and vegetables on the table,
it is no wonder that floral and vegetal motifs translated so well onto domestic silver flatware
patterns. The last few decades of the nineteenth century were marked by a popular scientific
interest in classifying, ordering, and objectifying nature, and a number of cultural institutions and
exhibitions regularly educated the American public about the natural world. The Peabody
Museums of Natural History opened at Yale and Harvard in 1866, and the American Museum of
Natural History was opened in 1869 in New York with horticulture, animal, and natural science
displays. In 1872, Harvard opened its Arnold Arboretum—the first of countless arboreta
nationwide—where all plants were clearly labeled so visitors could make note of plants “suitable
for landscape use.”32 These cultural institutions of botanical and natural history piqued the
32
Ibid., 558.
16
curiosity of an American public fascinated by the rapid strides in plant development,
hybridization, and horticultural patents that were sweeping the nation’s farms and dinner tables.
Nowhere was this trend more evident than in the flower and produce displays American
national exhibitions and World’s Fairs in the late nineteenth century. In the Horticulture Hall at
the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition in 1876, florists and nurserymen displayed a variety of
exotic plants, as well as new home and industrial garden equipment and ornamental flowers.33
Curious home gardeners across the nation flocked to see the seasonal flower displays rotated
through the fair’s Flower Tent. Although Thomas Meehan, designer of Horticultural Hall and the
editor of Gardeners’ Monthly, declared that nothing had ever “attracted so much attention or
received such unqualified admiration,”34 the Centennial display was largely deemed
unsuccessful. The public complained that there were too few plants, and that they were poorly
arranged.35 Furthermore, there were few native American species at the fair, so American
homeowners did not see much that they could replicate at home.36
Nonetheless, the idea of public horticultural education had begun. Thomas Meehan
published a two hundred page directory in 1878 entitled Native Flowers and Ferns of the United
States in their Botanical, Horticultural, and Popular Aspects, likely in response to the growing
interest in American native plants following the Centennial. Meehan’s richly illustrated book is
documented to have been in the Tiffany & Company design library,37 where silver flatware
designers would no doubt have referenced it. Might Meehan’s book have been the inspiration for
the robust and whimsical fruits and flowers wrapping around Tiffany’s Lap Over Edge, released
33
Cathy Jean Maloney, World’s Fair Gardens: Shaping American Landscapes (Charlottesville, VA:
University of Virginia Press) 2012, 23.
34
As quoted in Maloney, World’s Fair Gardens, 30.
35
Ibid., 31.
36
Ibid., 36.
37
Tiffany & Company. “Publications in Factory Archives.” (MMA American Wing Library).
17
two years later in 1880? Silver firms also obtained live plants to sketch; Whiting’s Berry pattern,
for example, was likely drawn from living plant and fruit specimens because of its careful and
realistic depiction of thorns, leaves, and fruit structure.38 The increasing accessibility of live
plants at world’s fairs and at museums, and in well-illustrated seed catalogues and volumes like
Meehan’s, were wildly popular among Americans, from amateur gardeners to domestic
designers.
The World Columbian Exposition in 1893 offered another chance for the American
public to learn about home horticulture, for professional gardeners to advertise their products,
and for silver firms like Tiffany & Co. to display their finest wares. In the Palace of Horticulture
one could find fruits and vegetables from around the country and across the world. The
Promenade Gallery displayed pressed flowers, plants, and models of spectacular private gardens
and greenhouses, and the Wooded Island was a standalone “wild garden” arranged and
sponsored by the Japanese government. 39 The World Columbian Expo is broadly credited as the
beginning of the City Beautiful movement, which sought to improve the aesthetic and moral
quality of American cities.” Indigenous American plants were celebrated in the Palace of
Horticulture, and let us not forget that Tiffany’s display, including the silver and enamel
Magnolia Vase, a celebration of American native plants, was only steps away. The influence of
the fair’s wild and cultivated floral displays reverberated around the horticultural world and
throughout the silver flatware industry. In 1894, the year following the Columbian Expo,
Gorham released six single-flower silver flatware patterns: Imperial Chrysanthemum (fig. 8) and
Poppy (fig. 21), and the engraved Carnation, Oak and Acorn, Cherry Blossom, and Orchid—all
either native or naturalized American plants likely displayed at the fair (fig. 22a-d). These
38
39
Hood et al. “The Berry Silver Flatware Pattern by Whiting,” 29.
Maloney, World’s Fair Gardens, 72.
18
patterns evoked a controlled wildflower arrangement similar to the way the wooded island was
arranged at the Columbian Exposition.
By 1901’s Buffalo Pan-American Exposition, the tenor of floral arrangement had
changed. Although the Buffalo fair included twenty acres of display gardens, organizers insisted
on “simple and tasteful fruit displays that would showcase the fruit itself,” rather than elaborately
arranged productions.40 American-grown fruit dominated, including oranges, grapefruit,
pineapple, grapes, and peaches, as well as jars of fruit preserves from around the country.
Although some were novelties, the displays were filled with cheerful, familiar flowers. A
contemporary account reported that one of the “chief beauties … was the simplicity of the
arrangement, as well as the fact that a large number of the plants used were of the old familiar
classes … [of] old-fashioned flowers.”41 The arrangement and type of flowers, along with the
patterns on the buildings and the layout of the fair, was a decidedly simplified step back from the
elaborate displays of the World Columbian Exposition.
Similar rhetoric may be found in the discussion of floral silver flatware of the same time.
Gorham released Buttercup (figure 4) in 1900, and its catalog described the pattern as decorated
with “the beautiful and familiar buttercup… avoiding in its treatment all crudity, yet retaining the
conventional in flower and foliage.”42 The crudity to which Gorham refers here may be a
reference to the overworked depiction of flowers in previous decades. Enthusiasm for Aesthetic
patterns like Tiffany’s Vine had waned with the end of nineteenth-century, and demand for
aggressively avant-garde Art Nouveau patterns in domestic flatware, such as Shiebler’s Flora
40
Ibid., 91.
Ibid., 96-7.
42
As quoted in Diana Cramer, “Buttercup by Gorham,” Silver Magazine 20 (July-August 1987), 37.
41
19
(1889) (figure 9) and Fiorito (1902) (figure 10), had remained feeble.43 This retreat into
wholesome natural forms, arranged in conservative styles as in Buttercup and Gorham’s simple,
unpretentious Meadow (1897) (figure 18), may have been in response to a fatigue of
international styles and relentlessly new forms.
Indeed, at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis in 1904, horticultural designers
focused on American native plants. By this time, the conservation movement was steadily
growing in the United States, with an ally in President Theodore Roosevelt.44 A nationalistic
pride ran through public discourse about native American plants. Cordelia Turner wrote in her
1884 book that “wild flowers are nature’s jewels in emerald settings,” suggesting that it was
worthwhile to cultivate American flowers, which will not only thrive easily, but which are also a
pride and honor to our country.45 As the nineteenth century drew to a close, westward pioneers
and amateur horticulturalists discovered endless varieties of new plants in the western states.46
From coast to coast, cities and towns had their own local horticultural societies, hosting lectures,
demonstrations, and putting on yearly shows and competitions for their local member’s floral
innovations.47 An interest in regional plant culture led to specialized books such as Helen
Harcourt’s 1886 Florida Fruits and How to Raise Them, and Edward J. Wickson’s 1889 The
California Fruits and How to Grow Them, the latter enjoying eight editions by 1919.48 A similar
movement was underway in silver souvenir spoons which, if not flatware patterns, were
nonetheless desirable collectors’ objects. Gorham’s 1902 catalog shows a number of state
43
William P. Hood, Jr., Charles S. Curb, and John R. Olson. “Shiebler’s Floral Flatware Patterns, Part
One: Flora,” Silver Magazine (January-February 2008), 32.
44
Maloney, World’s Fair Gardens, 115.
45
Turner, Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture, 391.
46
Maloney, World’s Fair Gardens, 13.
47
James Morton, Chrysanthemum Culture for America (New York: The Rural Publishing Company)
1891, 33–4.
48
Hedrick, A History of Horticulture in America, 530.
20
souvenir spoons, all of which included flowers indigenous to that state (figure 23).49 Flowers
were key elements of regional identities. On a larger national scale, many tour de force silver
presentation pieces, such as Tiffany’s Bryant and Magnolia Vases, were fundamentally
nationalist objects that drew on quintessentially American plants such as corn, pines, and
goldenrods as representation of a national character.
“NATURE IDEALIZED, RATHER THAN NATURE REAL”
Part of the American ingenuity on display at Worlds’ Fairs was the ability of man to control and
improve upon nature. Even though the Wooded Island was ostensibly a wild garden, it was in
fact entirely man-made. And just as the motifs in Tiffany’s Vine (figure 1) and Lap Over Edge
(figure 2) patterns display a sort of “controlled randomness” in their depictions of naturalism, so
too did home and civic horticulture both embrace and aim to control the natural. This rhetoric of
man improving nature, and manipulating it to his enjoyment, is present in both the silver patterns
and horticultural movements of the time. The popular 1884 manual Ornamental Gardening for
Americans accurately summarizes this sentiment: “our improved plants and flowers are more
ornamental than the parental wild forms, so do we possess more and richer material for creating
garden effects than is seen in nature. We may aim [for] nature idealized, rather than nature
real.”50
Manuals such as Edward Rand’s explain how to make delicate plants “readily submit to
domestication…”51 Especially significant was the ability to fool nature by forcing flowers to
49
It is worth noting that the first state flower—Minnesota’s lady slipper—was assigned in 1893, the same
year as the Columbian Exposition.
50
Long, Ornamental Gardening for Americans, 161.
51
Rand, Flowers for the Parlor Garden, 233.
21
bloom in winter.52 A nationalist tone found its way into discussion of American horticulture
prowess; for example, regarding chrysanthemums: “Their size, form, and color [here] are
probably unequalled in their original home in the far east. They are so refined by crossing, and
strengthened by climate and culture, that their superiority has been universally acknowledged.”53
A similar attitude was evinced in the stunning successes of the displays by American silver firms
such as Tiffany at contemporary worlds’ fairs, which won international acclaim.54 The
development of new enameling methods for the Magnolia Vase, for example, or the drop in price
and increasing accessibility of American silver, contributed to the sense that American silver,
just like American horticulture, was on top of the world.
In floral silver flatware patterns, the influence went both ways. Americans were morally
and spiritually improved by gardens and flowers, so having floral flatware elevated the soul and
established the hostess as a virtuous woman. But also, the elegant perfection of horticulture
achieved on flatware patterns such as Vine are themselves both a reminder of a quest to improve
on nature’s design, and of Americans’ prowess in horticulture on a global scale, proven at the
world’s fairs. It is no wonder that late-nineteenth-century Americans and silver designers alike
found floral flatware so compelling—gardening, horticulture, and nature’s romantic virtue all
had a place at the table.
52
See: “How to force flowers to bloom in winter,” in Rand, Flowers for the Parlor Garden, 213; “Winter
forcing of the Lily of the Valley” in Peter Henderson, Gardening for Pleasure (New York: Orange Judd
Company), 1875, 84.
53
Morton, Chrysanthemum Culture for America, 31.
54
Diane Chalmers Johnson, American Art Nouveau (New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc.), 1981, 90.
22
Sophia Lufkin
Silver Bibliography
Carpenter, Charles H. Gorham Silver: 1831–1981. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. 1982.
Carpenter, Charles H. Tiffany Silver. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. 1978.
Cramer, Diana. “Buttercup by Gorham.” Silver Magazine 20 (July-August 1987), 37–39
Hedrick, U. P. A History of Horticulture in America; with an addendum of books published from
1861-1920 by Elisabeth Woodburn. Portland, OR: Timber Press. 1988.
Henderson, Peter. Gardening for Pleasure. New York: Orange Judd Company. 1875.
Hood, William P., Jr., John R. McGrew, Charles S. Curb, John R. Olson, and Stanley Szaro.
“The Berry Silver Flatware Pattern by Whiting.” Silver Magazine (September-October 2004),
24–36.
Hood, William P., Jr., Charles S. Curb, and John R. Olson. “Shiebler’s Floral Flatware Patterns,
Part Two: Fiorito and “Month.” ” Silver Magazine (September-October 2008), 32–42.
Hood, William P., Jr., Charles S. Curb, and John R. Olson. “Shiebler’s Floral Flatware Patterns,
Part One: Flora.” Silver Magazine (January-February 2008), 30–41.
Hood, William P., Jr. Tiffany Silver Flatware: When Dining Was an Art: 1845–1905. England:
Antique Collector’s Club. 1999.
Hood, William P., Jr. “Tiffany’s Vine Pattern Flatware.” Silver Magazine (September-October
1999), 26–31.
Jeckyll, Gertrude. Home and Garden. New York: Longmans, Green, and Co. 1901.
Johnson, Diane Chalmers. American Art Nouveau. New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc. 1981.
Long, Elias. Ornamental Gardening for Americans. New York: Orange Judd Company. 1884.
Lynch, Sandy. “Pattern Profile: Lily of the Valley by the Whiting Manufacturing Co. (1885)”
Silver Magazine (March-April 2008), 40–42.
Lynch, Sandy. “Pattern Profile: Vine by Tiffany & Co.” Silver Magazine (July-August 2010),
31–33.
Maloney, Cathy Jean. World’s Fair Gardens: Shaping American Landscapes. Charlottesville,
VA: University of Virginia Press. 2012.
Morton, James. Chrysanthemum Culture for America. New York: The Rural Publishing
Company. 1891.
Professor Oliver, F.R.S., F.L.S. Illustrations of the Principal Natural Orders of The Vegetable
Kingdom. London: Chapman and Hall. 1874.
Rand, Edward Sprague, Jr. Flowers for the Parlor Garden. Boston: J. E. Tilton & Co. 1863.
Strong, William. Fruit Culture and the Laying Out and Management of Country Homes. Boston,
1885.
Tiffany & Company. “Publications in Factory Archives.” (MMA American Wing Library).
Turner, Cordelia Harris. Cyclopedia of Practical Floriculture. New York: Townsend Mac Coun.
1884.
Turner, Noel D. American Silver Flatware: 1837–1910 (South Brunswick and New York: A. S.
Barnes and Co.), 1972.
Tyas, Robert. The Language of Flowers. London: George Routledge and Sons. 1869.
Warshawsky, Elizabeth H. “Flatware Profile: Kirk Repoussé.” Silver Magazine (NovemberDecember 2004), 16.
Wilhelm, Robert M. “Shepard’s Flora Spoons and Fruit Forks.” Silver Magazine (SeptemberOctober 2010), 34–6.
Willburn, Pansylea Howard. “Vanderslice and Sunflowers.” Silver Magazine 42 (JanuaryFebruary 2010), 18–19.
Images
Figure 1.
Selection of handles from Tiffany & Co.’s Vine (1872)
Photo from William P. Hood, Jr., Tiffany Silver Flatware: When Dining Was an Art: 1845–1905
(England: Antique Collector’s Club), 1999, 194.
Figure 2.
Selections from Tiffany and Co.’s Lap Over Edge (1880)
Photo from Hood, Tiffany Silver Flatware, 220.
Figure 3.
Front and back of Tiffany’s Indian Chrysanthemum (1880)
Photo from Hood, Tiffany Silver Flatware, 234.
Figure 4.
Design for Gorham’s Buttercup (1900)
Photo from 1900 Gorham catalog.
Figure 5a-b.
Tiffany’s Antique (top) and Queen Anne (bottom) (both 1870)
Photo from Charles H. Carpenter, Tiffany Silver (New York: Dodd, Mead & Co), 1978, 111.
Figure 6.
Gorham’s Bamboo (1882)
Photo from silverperfect.com
Figure 7.
Tiffany’s Broom Corn (1890)
Photo from replacements.com
Figure 8a-b.
Gorham’s Imperial Chrysanthemum (1894) and closeup
Photo from Gorham’s 1896 catalog
Figure 9.
Selection of handles from George Shiebler’s Flora (1889)
Photo from William P. Hood, Jr., et al. “Shiebler’s Floral Flatware Patterns, Part One: Flora.”
Silver Magazine (January-February 2008), 32.
Figure 10.
Selection of handles from Shiebler’s Fiorito
Photo from William P. Hood, Jr. et al., “Shiebler’s Floral Flatware Patterns, Part Two: Fiorito
and “Month.” ” Silver Magazine (September-October 2008), 33.
Figure 11.
Cover from Robert Tyas, The Language of Flowers (London: George Routledge and Sons),
1869.
Figure 12.
William Vanderslice’s Sunflower (1870s)
Photo from Pansylea Howard Willburn, “Vanderslice and Sunflowers,” Silver Magazine 42
(January-February 2010), 19.
Figure 13.
Shepard Manufacturing Company’s Flora coffee spoons (ca. 1900)
Image from Robert M. Wilhelm, “Shepard’s Flora Spoons and Fruit Forks,” Silver Magazine
(September-October 2010), 34.
Figure 14.
Gorham’s Cluny (1883)
Photo from 1888 Gorham catalog
Figure 15.
Gorham’s St. Cloud (1886)
Photo from 1888 Gorham catalog
Figure 16.
Gorham’s Eglantine (1870)
Photo from 1880 Gorham catalog.
Figure 17.
Demitasse spoon (Gorham’s Delhi, introduced 1880)
Photo from:
ebay.com/itm/DELHI-GORHAM-STERLING-DEMITASSE-SPOON-/400332371606
Figure 18.
Gorham’s Meadow (1897)
Photo from 1900 Gorham catalog.
Figure 19.
Gorham’s Lancaster (1897)
Photo from 1902 Gorham catalog.
Figure 20.
Gorham’s Cambridge (1899)
Photo from 1900 Gorham catalog.
Figure 21.
Gorham’s Poppy (1894)
Photo from replacements.com
Figure 22a-d.
Gorham’s Carnation, Oak and Acorn, Cherry Blossom, and Orchid (all 1894)
Photos from replacements.com
Figure 23.
Gorham’s state souvenir spoons: Nebraska, Colorado, California.
Photo form 1902 Gorham catalog
Appendix(A:(List(of(Gorham(Flatware(patterns((1865<1915)
Compiled(from(Gorham(Design(Library(<(annual(catalogs(1880<1909.((CD<ROM(reserve(at(MMA(Watson(Library)
And(from(Carpenter,(Gorham'Silver:'1831–1981.
Years(
introduced
1865<70
1871–75
1876<80
Minor(floral(
elements
Minor
Eva&70
Patterns(with(flowers/fruits
yes
birds&nest&65
Floral&65
Lotus&65
Rosette&68
Ivy&68
Aurora&70
Eglantine&70
Lily&70
H.&83&70
Knickerbocker&etched&70
Patterns(without
no
princess&65
byzantine&65
Olive&65
Ionic&68
Lady's&68
Italic&68
Pompeii&68
Fleur&de&Lis&68
Louis&XIV&70
Angelo&70
Eighty&Three&70
Old&English&Tipt&70
Queen&Anne&70
Queens&70
Fiddle&Old&70
Knickerbocker&Plain&70
10
26
=
yes
Japanese&71
no
Corinthian&71
Palm&72
Swiss&73
Antique&71
Mothers&75
Mothers&Engraved&75
Mothers&Hammered&75
Old&Newport&75
Dowager&75
minor
New&tipt&71
Persian&74&
(arabesques)
Raphael&75
5
13
=
yes
no
Delhi&80
Daisy&80
Kings&I&[&76
Hindostanee&78
minor
Lady&Washington&
76
Gilpen&80
%(floral
38%
38%
1881<85
1886–90
1891–95
Hizen&80
Antique&hammered&and&applied&
80
Antique&engraving&#7&[&80
Antique&engraving&#8&[&80
Antique&engraving&#10&[&80
Antique&engraving&#11&[&80
Antique&engraving&#12&[&80
Grape&80
Marigold&80
Huguenot&80
Diana&80
Hamburg&80
16
30
=
53%
yes
Empress&81
Domestic&81
Cluny&83
Maryland&85
Chrysanthemum&85
Acanthus&85
Clematis&85
Hawthorne&85
Jac&Rose&85
Laurel&85
Tulip&85
no
Medici&old&83
Nuremburg&84
Milan&84
Colonial&85
Berlin&85
Dresden&85
French&85
Kings&II&[&85
Kings&III&[&85
Master&85
Old&Masters&85
minor
Piper&82
Fontainebleau&82
Play&fellow&85
entirely(mimetic
bamboo&82
15
26
=
58%
yes
St.&Cloud&86
Coligni&89
Antique&engraving&#15&[&90
Violet&90
no
Versailles&88
Virginia&90
Chippendale&90
Apostle&Small&90
Apostle&Large&90
minor
4
9
=
yes
no
minor
Cairo&80
Tudor&80
Antique&hammered&80
Antique&engraving&#1&[&80
Antique&engraving&#2&[&80
Antique&engraving&#3&[80
Antique&engraving&#4&[&80
Antique&engraving&#5&[&80
Antique&engraving&#6&[&80
Antique&engraving&#9&[&80
Gorham&80
London&80
44%
1896–1900
1901–1905
Marie&Antoinette&
91
Rouen&92
Imperial&Chrysanthemum&94
Carnation&94
Oak&and&Acorn&94
Cherry&Blossom&94
Orchid&94
Poppy&94
Oxford&95
Imperial&91
Priscilla&92
Regent&92
Kensington&93
Luxembourg&93
Albemarle&94
King&George&94
Elmwood&94
Mythologique&94
Bedford&95
Bristol&95
Chantilly&95
Hanover&95
New&Empire&95
New&Queens&95
Newcastle&95
9
25
=
yes
Lancaster&97
Meadow&97
Baronial&old&98
Buttercup&99
Cambridge&99
Douglas&99
H.&252&00
H.&451&00
no
Pembroke&96
Louis&XVI&97
Old&Colony,&97
Lenox&97
Strasbourg&97
Scandinavian&98
Cromwell&00
Henry&II&00
New&Plymouth&00
Paris&00
H.&108.&00
H.&109&00
H.&200&00
H.&316&00
minor
H.&385&00
H.&443&00&
10
22
=
yes
Marguerite&01
Poppy&02&
no
Norfolk&(Villa&Norfolk)&03
Portland&04
minor
Florence&01
Florentine&01
36%
45%
1906–1910
1911<1915
Royal&Oak&04
Atlanta&04
Old&French&04
Patrician&02
Virginiana&05
8
11
=
yes
Balac&08
Montclair&08&
Fleury&09
no
Tuileries&06
Jefferson&07
Martha&Washington&07
Chesterfield&08
Melrose
Hamilton&09
La&Modele&09
Buckingham&10
Fairfax&10
minor
3
12
=
yes
Vine&12
Cherry&Blossom&15
no
Plymouth&11
Old&Dominion&11
Spotswood&12
Etruscan&13
minor
Wyndham&11
Chelmsford&11&
Wreath&11
Pattern&A&12
Hampton&13
Roanoke&13
Hardwick&13
Etruscan&English&13
Farnham&13&
Beverly&14
Covington&English&
14
Stamford&14
Beaumont&15
Hazelmere&13
Covington&14
Covington&Hammered&14
Guilford&14
Marion&14
Walpole&14
Wareham&14
Weymouth&14
Dighton&14
Dartmouth&14
Clermont&15
Cellini&15
Rosemont&15
2
32
=
73%
25%
6%
Appendix(B:(List(of(Tiffany(&(Co.(flatware(patterns((1869–1910)
Compiled)from)Hood,)Tiffany'Silver'Flatware:'When'Dining'Was'an'Art
1869–1875
yes
Japanese)71
Vine)72
Antique)Ivy)75
no
minor
Tiffany))69
Persian)72
Italian)70
King)70
Palm)71
Antique)E)engraved)a)
number)of)ways)E)75
4
1876–80
9
yes
no
Lap)Over)Edge)80 Queen)Anne)plain)75
Indian)
Chrysanthemum)
80
3
1881E5
yes
Wave)Edge)84
yes
Ailanthus)99
50%
minor
Broom)corn))90
1
no
3
1895E1900
minor
no
yes
75%
2
1
1891–5
minor
Olympian)79
no
English)King)85
yes
44%
4
1
1886E90
%(floral
100%
minor
Richelieu)92
Colonial)95
St.)James)98
3
no
100%
minor
Florentine)00
2
1901–1905
yes
2
no
Marquise)02
Shell)and)Thread)05
Renaissance)04
0
1906–1910
yes
minor
3
no
Winthrop)09
Fanieul)10
1
100%
0%
minor
St.)Dunstan)09
3
33%