1762 calling card salver

Hello -

We have a 1762 dated British silver salver used in the family for calling cards, with very cleanly stamped hallmarks. As someone fairly new to researching silver, I have identified the country of origin and I believe the town of London mark. But I am stumped on the “R•P” for the maker’s mark.

Additionally, there are the initials “M.W.” and “1762” engraved on the bottom of the piece, 180 degrees opposite the hallmarks.

Was it unusual to have a date and initials engraved on a piece by the maker?

Thanks for any help!

1 Like

Here’s another iteration of the same salver also by Richard Palmer in 1762.

The MW and '69 date you will be in a better position to tell us about than we can. Unless someone in the family bought it more recently.

And no, it is not unusual to have silver initialed and commemoratively dated for later.

I once asked my grandfather why he stuck his initials all over otherwise pristine silver and he said so if any servants stole it he could identify the stolen item and help the courts populate Australia. I reminded him (he was born in 1869) you no longer were required to have a criminal record to go live in the antipodes.

Is your tray also 13 inches in diameter?

CRWW

2 Likes

That’s good information. The salver is 6.75” in diameter, so a good bit smaller than your fine example. Tonight while I was looking at the hallmarks again, I compared the date letter marking to some other photos, and found I was mistaken about the date. What I had believed to be the letter “G” is actually the letter “E” instead. The style of lettering through me off… So it’s actually a 1760 make.

The “MW” and 1762 matches no known ancestor I can find. The closest is a Mary William who died in 1761. I don’t think her death date is wrong, and we don’t know of any ghosts in the family who can engrave so clearly, so the mystery continues!

1 Like

Your amendment of the date is of course correct. So you have a very respectable Chippendale style salver with seashells. By 1760 use of surnames was almost universal so MW might indicate a family name beginning with a W. There are a few to choose from.

In the 16th and 17th centuries, particularly in Spain (where the term salva originated) and England, salvers were used by servants to present food or drink that had been “assayed” or tasted first to ensure it was not poisoned.

From the 18th century onward, they were used by servants to carry beverages, glasses, and dishes, or to present letters, cards, and small items to guests. Small salvers, often called “waiters,” were particularly popular for this.They were used to place hot tea or coffee pots on, or to hold decanters, preventing damage to valuable furniture from heat or spills.

Because they were often made of silver, highly decorated, and engraved with family crests, they served as decorative, status-symbol items on sideboards or buffets. Unlike trays, traditional salvers do not have handles. They are almost always raised on three or four small, often decorative, feet. They are usually circular, though square, rectangular, and octagonal shapes exist.

Presenting calling cards or visiting cards came into fashion in Europe during the 17th century gaining significant popularity among the French aristocracy under Louis XIV before becoming a staple of social etiquette in Britain and the United States in the 18th and 19th centuries. They became an indispensable, highly regulated, and “essential” accessory for the upper and middle classes throughout the Victorian era 1837–1901.

The earliest known “visiting cards” ,known as Meishi ,were used in China in the 15th century. By the 17th Century The custom arrived in Europe, where it became fashionable for the French aristocracy to use visite bilets to announce their arrival at a home, often leaving them with servants. In the 18th Century The practice became widespread among the upper classes in France and Italy, quickly spreading to England.

By the 19th Century, the Victorian and gilded ages, calling cards reached their height of popularity becoming an essential for navigating social hierarchy, making it possible to “call” on someone without actually meeting them, simply by leaving a card on a silver tray.

The custom began to fall out of favor as the telephone replaced the need for in-person calling, and the rigid social codes of the Victorian era relaxed. The tradition largely died out by the 1950s, though I am informed remained in use in the U.S. Armed Forces.

The Calling Card was a way to indicate you had visited a friend or acquaintance.
and used to pay “social debts” when a personal, in-person visit was not possible.

Specific corners were turned down to indicate, for example, a condolence visit, a congratulatory visit, or that the card was delivered in person.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, they served as a “passport to polite society”.

Originally, these were simple, white, engraved, or hand-written cards. However, the Victorians later embraced more elaborate designs, including coloured, decorated, and embossed cards.

Women’s cards were generally larger than men’s, and they often contained the husband’s name (e.g., Mrs. John Smith). Large silver card cases often with British Castles embossed on them are highly collectable.

The etiquette was strict; a properly returned call (via card) signified social acceptance, while failure to return a card could mean being cut from a social circle.

So your tray was an early form of Facebook used to “friend” people. Have we advanced or retreated?

CRWW

1 Like

I certainly believe we have advanced. I was not aware of the original purpose of salvers, and had not known of the word “waiter” being used for the smaller sized pieces.

The last remaining detail, aside from the mysterious “MW”, is to determine the maker/creator. I have looked a number of different “R•P” marks from London, but none appear to have the same.shape or outline or letter style, etc. I am hopeful that someone can identify this mark.

Richard Palmer - as mentioned earlier.

1 Like

Well I will take your word for it. Although I would much rather have my messages delivered on a silver salver than on a computer.

Why don’t you like Palmer for the maker? I figured you must have looked it up so went to find you an identically patterned salver and you don’t like that either.

CRWW

Sorry for not recognizing your information about Palmer. I did not have it register in my mind for some reason when I read your message. I did not mean to sound as if I was not accepting your attribution - my apologies. I have listed Palmer as the maker in my records. Thanks again.

1 Like

Don’t worry about it. I am much more worried about you preferring Facebook to 18th century silver salvers.

CRWW

1 Like

Ha ha! No, I too would prefer leaving my calling card to a Facebook message, or - God save us - a tweet. I think calling cards are certainly a more genteel and elegant method of social interaction.

1 Like

So you initial comment about Facebook being an improvement or advance on the delivery of Calling cards…?

Both the 18th century program your salver facilitated and the 21st century program irritating frat boys from Harvard came up with have the same purpose; to allow you to sort through who you want to socially interact with without actually confronting those you don’t.

CRWW

1 Like

I must have misunderstood your comment regarding whether we have advanced or retreated. I took that to mean whether we had advanced or retreated with regard to my understanding of the details pertaining to the particular salver we were discussing. I do, in fact, much prefer the idea of calling cards FAR MORE than Facebook posts, if for no other reason than leaving a calling card shows that you took the trouble to - presumably - dress and prepared oneself properly for a social encounter.

1 Like

There you go! If I had delivered responses to your inquiries on either facebook or by butler-powered salver you might well have found it less obtuse!

I generally stay away from comments about who made something as I am more interested in why and for whom. Silver maker knowledge is sometimes vital in this search but, unlike paintings where the hand of the creator is or maybe evident in every brush stroke, quite often of little direct relevance to quality.

An example is the obsession the silver collector world has with the Bateman family. Hester, widow of a buckle maker with a large family to support is highly sought after because she used then modern rolling mill technology to gain an edge on her competitors. She did have good craftsmen and excellent designers – people utterly unrecorded – but she probably never actually made anything herself.

Another is Paul Storr. People routinely pay 100% premium just to have the PS initials on otherwise very pedestrian silver which initials were used by the firm to which he was contracted to supervise and those who actually made the stuff. There are some exceptions, brilliant exceptions where his craft is evident in every curve and line, but with the majority of PS materials you are paying for something that doesn’t exist. In the art world they would say “School of Paul Storr” and it would sell at 10% of the original’s value.

CRWW

Absolutely agree re: Paul Storr. I also have never understood the premium asked for Peter & Jonathan Bateman pieces, granted a short lived partnership, however an equally short lived partnership and with a lot less items seen for sale Eley & Pierrepont are hardly ever mentioned let alone sought after.

1 Like

Well, for the sake of discussion, I will mentally drop back 150 years and have Jeeves bring the waiter round to see who left their card…

I am certain that silver collectors, like most other collectors, all have their reasons -obtuse or otherwise - for collecting the pieces they choose to acquire. I am not a silversmith, and much design subtlety escapes my untutored self. But I appreciate good craftsmanship and enjoy admiring work that someone has taken pride in their efforts and achieved a very fine result.

My interest is in the family pieces we have, and in trying to find the connection to a person, much as you do. We have precious few stories relating to family silver, and most have been consigned to the heap of fabrication or wishful thinking. Still, it’s enjoyable to ponder possibilities.

I am far more interested in what a piece looks like and who it becomes to than who created it. Unsophisticated, perhaps, but I’m content.

1 Like