Many silversmiths also made their own wire from thin silver sheets by using a wire-drawing bench, consisting of a huge crank attached to a rope on one end, and a huge iron dye containing different-sized holes secured to the other end. Silversmiths tapered a small bar of silver so that it barely fit through the largest hole in the dye, and secured it to the rope with a clamp. A strong apprentice turned the crank and pulled the silver through the hole, which compressed the silver into the diameter of the hole. This compression made the silver brittle, and the silversmith heated it after each “draw,” enough to restore its ductility without making it too soft. The silversmith then tapered the end of the wire enough so it fit through the next smallest hole, and repeated the process. When the wire attained the desired diameter, the silversmith soldered it onto flatware as an extra embellishment.63
These descriptions only brush the surface of the intricacies of silversmithing, but reveal some of the skills and metallurgical knowledge required for competent practice. Silversmith tasks may have fallen into these four broad categories, but each piece of silver carried a set of attendant challenges and unusual constraints, not to mention customized respects that required creative combinations of processes or new ones altogether. Table 1.1 illustrates one trajectory that a silversmith might take, applying tools and methods to a complex task.64
Table 1.1. Crafting a Silver Teapot
The elite status of silverworking resulted from both the amount of equipment required and the diverse range of skills and knowledge needed to make so many different objects. Revere’s lifelong pride in technical work and desire to improve his ability to produce useful and beautiful items stems from the many skills he developed at this early time. Processes such as annealing and wire drawing not only served a variety of silverworking purposes but also prepared him for many of his later metalworking endeavors: artisan knowledge and experience surpassed scientific knowledge in silverworking and other metallurgical crafts until the late nineteenth century. All Americans at this time knew how to judge the quality of the items they purchased and even assess the quality of the materials composing them, and the entire consumer population placed a high value on artisan skills. Revere’s skills quickly established his place in the Boston craft community, for he had many visible gifts, beginning with his versatility.65
Although the bulk of Revere’s early silverworking activities involved routine work such as cleaning, dent removal, and small commissions, he provided a wide range of products and services more diverse than in any other period in his life. In response to the lack of guilds, the shortage of skilled labor, the highly unpredictable colonial economy, and the changing needs of a widespread population, most American artisans had to take a flexible approach toward their trade. Even so, it is hard to imagine a more versatile craftsman than Paul Revere in any place or time. As a young silversmith supporting a growing family and attempting to build a client base and reputation, Revere accepted virtually any opportunity for work. He produced more than ninety different kinds of objects, ranging from spoons, buttons, buckles, and teapots to candlesticks, thimbles, medical instruments, and children’s whistles. He also fulfilled unusual requests, such as putting silver handles on seashells; making a dish out of an ostrich egg, a funnel, and a silver chain for a pet squirrel; cutting a branding iron for his cousin William Hitchborn; and mending glass objects. Revere even worked on small gold objects, such as buttons, rings, and bracelets. This diversity illustrates his combination of design skill, the ability to conceptualize and plan the form of the object, and craft skill, the ability to execute the design and actually create the final object. A broad range of products and services provided a steady source of income that helped him weather economic and political hardships. He worked on these unusual customized orders with far greater frequency in the early years of his career than in the later years, when his reputation guaranteed a steadier stream of more profitable work that allowed him to standardize his product line somewhat. In terms of total output, Revere recorded sales of at least 175 silver objects throughout his prewar career, second only to the 185 items made by silversmith Benjamin Burt in the same period. This output is particularly impressive considering that Burt’s greater age gave him more time to establish himself than Revere, who also lost many weeks of work to his Patriot activities. Revere got his business off to an excellent and rapid start.66
Revere’s output resulted from a well-managed group effort. As with all craftsmen, he received assistance from numerous apprentices throughout his silverworking career, although his surviving recordbooks rarely identify these helpers or their activities. If Revere followed standard practices, a shop of his size would have a reasonable number of assistant silversmiths and regular turnover among them. For example, Zachariah Brigden, a silversmith working at the same time as Revere, relied heavily on repair work and produced a much smaller amount of hollowware than Revere, but recorded transactions with fifteen journeymen and apprentices. Revere’s records, in contrast, only mention four assistants explicitly, and we can only imagine the full size of his shop. His younger brother Thomas, who continued his training with Paul after their father’s death, became Revere’s first apprentice. Thomas seems to have graduated to the status of journeyman in 1761, when Revere began charging him for board and clothing, items provided free of charge to an apprentice living in the master’s household. Another apprentice, the son of Josiah Collins of Newport, is identified in a letter from his father.67 Two probable journeymen in his employ, Samuel Butts and Mathew Metcalf, appear in his account books when they paid him for board and shop supplies. In 1773–1774 Revere began receiving aid from his most important and valuable apprentice, his oldest son, Paul Jr. Paul Jr. never achieved the artistic or technical skill of his father, judging from his surviving silver pieces. But as a mature and trustworthy family member whose apprenticeship bracketed the Revolutionary War, he provided his father with services above and beyond those of ordinary apprentices, occasionally looking after the entire shop while his father devoted more of his time to Patriot activities. From this point forth, Revere’s many endeavors became a family affair.68 Revere certainly employed other apprentices and journeymen, but they do not appear in the surviving records.
Revere’s versatility allowed him to apply silverworking skills to related activities in other fields when the opportunity arose, and colonial America’s constant economic and political upheavals offered many opportunities. When silver scarcity became a concern during the postwar depression of the mid-to late 1760s, Revere branched into dentistry and false teeth construction. This field served as a second career for many American silversmiths because it used thin silver or gold wires to fasten the artificial teeth. Dr. John Baker, a “surgeon-dentist,” taught Revere the basics of dentistry around 1767, and Revere started advertising his services in 1768.69 Revere also entered the field of copperplate engraving and printing prior to the Revolutionary War. Engravers often allied themselves with printing establishments and their work was always in great demand, particularly in the decade before independence. Around 1762 Revere made his first copperplate engravings—an outgrowth of his ability to embellish silverware—but quickly learned to produce a variety of images and texts for portraits, church hymnals, political cartoons, advertising cards,70 bookplates, and many other media. In addition to mastering the technical intricacies of this new line of work, he also drew the illustrations that appeared in print. Several aspects of his engraving work typify his lifelong career trajectory and operating methods. Although he became quite proficient in reproducing images in a variety of formats, Revere was more of a borrower and adapter than a creative artist. He created most of his political cartoons by copying or modifying British illustrations, a plagiaristic action by today’s standards but a common publication practice of Revere’s time. He also demonstrated a remarkable ability to master the many technological aspects of this job. Many entries in his silver shop daybooks contain prices for engravings, including charges for “cutting a copper pl
ate,” “smoothing plate,” “to the copper for a plate,” “to preparing plate for engraving,” and “cash paid for 4 letters.” Although he never described his engraving in further detail, the evidence suggests that he purchased copper for plates, smoothed and cut it to the proper size, and engraved it with designs. He also carried charges for the printing of numerous copies of certain documents, explaining why he might have purchased letters of printing type. Similarly, when he produced “metal cut” illustrations and mastheads for mass-produced newspapers and almanacs, he almost certainly made his own “type metal,” a compound of lead, antimony, tin, and other metals. He did not learn these skills during his apprenticeship because they do not fall within the purview of silverworking. They do relate to some of a silversmith’s skills, such as cutting, polishing, and engraving, but require the silversmith to apply these techniques to a new metal with different properties and to new applications. Throughout his life Revere excelled at this type of technology transfer, and he also possessed the entrepreneurial acumen needed to identify each new opportunity and weigh the risks. Fortunately, he did not lose sight of the bread and butter of silverworking, the luxury items that commanded the largest profits and played the greatest role in establishing a silversmith’s reputation. Revere may have loved trying new things, but he never lost sight of the old ones either.71
Figure 1.3. Paul Revere’s “A View of Part of the Town of Boston in New-England and British Ships of War Landing Their Troops! 1768,” colored engraving by Paul Revere, 1770, reproduced with permission of the Bridgeman Art Library. Paul Revere engraved this image, possibly from an original drawing by Christian Remick. This detailed view of Boston emphasizes the docks and North End neighborhood that circumscribed most of Revere’s early activities, and highlights the British landing force that set the stage for increased Patriot resistance by marching with “Insolent Parade” into Boston.
In the famous Copley portrait described at the start of this chapter, Revere holds a teapot that reflects one of the most popular styles of the 1760s, described in one source as an “inverted pear-shaped body with stepped foot and a domed cover surmounted by a cast finial, with single or double scrolled wooden handle.” Contemporaries and historians alike tend to judge silversmiths almost exclusively according to their ability to create elaborate luxury pieces, and according to this criterion Revere stood at the top of his profession. Luxury silver is doubly valuable to a historical study because it not only reflects the skill of the maker, but also the economic and artistic preferences of the community that purchased it. Mid-eighteenth-century America, and particularly its three largest cities, offered many opportunities to silversmiths: a general rise in the standard of living allowed many individuals to buy small quantities of silver, while the wealthiest classes sought to display their rapidly increasing affluence through major purchases.72
The strong economy in eighteenth-century America produced a steady rise in the amount of wealth at nearly all levels of society, as well as huge changes in the way people lived.73 In 1700, “average” households owned two beds typically stuffed with wool or cotton fiber refuse, four brass pots, and a single table. At the start of the eighteenth century, people either shared or did without nonessential items such as plates, drinking vessels, and utensils. By 1750, chairs, chests with drawers, forks, knives, plates, and teapots became fairly common, and even luxuries such as clocks and mirrors grew in popularity. Greater overall wealth and an increased concern for status led to product differentiation: dining tables, tea tables, and sewing tables took the place of the earlier all-purpose table, and pots gave way to water vessels, teapots, and wine decanters. In addition to improving their material lives and standard of living, colonists hoped to raise their societal standing by assuming the trappings of gentility. Well-to-do colonists often displayed their status by conspicuously consuming luxury goods, and this practice grew more achievable and widespread as the market economy took root. Eighteenth-century Bostonians procured their material goods from the numerous merchant shipments from England as well as from domestic artisans, and former luxury items became increasingly commonplace. Silver in particular gained popularity as different classes tried to appear more genteel.74
Some of Revere’s prewar success lay in his shrewd decision to produce a large quantity of lower-end silverware to appeal to customers from all economic strata. In spite of the high cost of silver, it leads the list of luxury items used by the general population: 20 percent of New England households owned some silver by the middle of the eighteenth century. Revere produced five small flatware items (spoons and other flat objects) for every piece of expensive hollowware. The emphasis upon both low- and high-end silver products increased Revere’s ability to appeal to more clients by offering something for everyone, while also making better use of his labor pool: apprentices and hired workers had skills that better suited flatware production. The shift to flatware also revealed an early interest in producing standardized goods, something he avidly pursued after the war.75
Although Revere derived most of his income from the sales of smaller pieces of silver, large and costly items advanced his reputation and status in the community, showcasing his great skill at interpreting popular artistic styles. Expensive silver items, used for ceremonial occasions, gifts, or display purposes, were “bespoke,” or custom-made to order. Customization ensured the buyer’s satisfaction and prevented the silversmith from wasting time, materials, and effort on products that might not sell. At the beginning of Revere’s career, the highly ornamental rococo style of decorative artwork satisfied a pervasive desire for novelty in the mid-eighteenth century, becoming somewhat popular in Boston but widespread in New York and Philadelphia. The rococo style is known for its curved shapes, use of sinuous and leaf-like heraldic engraving, and prominent display of coats of arms. Some modern experts consider Revere and Nathaniel Hurd the two best colonial practitioners of the rococo style, and one critic contends that Revere’s rococo pieces stand well above other Boston rococo objects “in their exuberant interpretation and technical execution.” Many other early Revere products display an above average to exceptional degree of workmanship, evidenced in terms of uniformity, artistic interpretation, and elegance. By the 1760s, he had matured as a silversmith and regularly turned out spectacular pieces of work to suit all tastes.76
Over half of Revere’s total production of large silver items consisted of objects for drinking and dining, primarily on the tables of the wealthiest Bostonians. His output reflects changing social trends, such as the growing popularity of tankards and teapots for social drinking rituals. Throughout the eighteenth century, tea drinking grew in ceremonial importance, especially in the female-controlled domestic social world. Tea-drinking accessories, as well as tea itself, grew increasingly cheaper, eventually becoming available to all but the poorest members of society. Bostonians consumed more than 16,000 pounds of tea in 1759 alone, and a proper tea ceremony used teapots, creampots, sugar dishes, sugar tongs, tea tongs, and teaspoons. Revere made one or two teapots, which he often sold as one component of a larger and more profitable tea service, each year prior to 1767, but his production plunged when Boston boycotted tea in response to the duties imposed upon the colonies by the Townshend Revenue Act of 1767.77 Many Bostonians who boycotted tea during this period turned to coffee, and correspondingly, Revere’s coffeepot output increased from a total of two in the years before 1767 to six in the year 1769 alone. One of these, made in 1772, is the only known marked three-legged coffeepot made in America. Revere adapted the foreign form of the three-legged coffeepot to his own design by adding three large legs ornamented with shells and scrollwork in the rococo style to a basic coffeepot body. As much as any other single piece, this coffeepot exemplifies Revere’s combination of artistic and technical creativity. Despite his increasing involvement in Patriot activities during this period, Revere did not let politics get in the way of a sale. Revere sold numerous pieces to his family physician, Tory Dr. Samuel Danforth, and one
of the two teapots Revere sold in 1773 belonged to a forty-five-piece tea service, the single largest commission of his silverworking career, for Loyalist Dr. William Paine.78
Revere engraved nearly all his larger silver items, borrowing many creative flourishes from the work of other craftsmen, including his father, or from English sources. He perfected his engraving abilities throughout his career and mastered the art of combining different artistic forms into meticulous and balanced final products. Revere’s outstanding embellishment work partially resulted from his craft lineage: John Coney, his father’s mentor, also specialized in engraving. In fact, modern appraisers of silver often cite Paul Revere and John Coney as two of the finest colonial engravers. Engraved coats of arms personalized silverware and quickly became key components of many rococo items: the jurisdiction of the British College of Heralds did not cross the ocean, and colonial families could therefore design their own coat of arms to add to their social status, typically aided by advice books such as John Guillim’s A Display of Heraldry. Revere added coats of arms to bookplates, salvers, teapots, and other large objects, and often engraved items that he did not make, reflecting the high esteem in which other silversmiths valued his abilities, including well-established ones such as John Coburn, John Symmes, and Nathaniel Hurd.79
A silversmith’s reputation determined whether clients patronized his shop. This reputation depended upon a combination of the reputation of his mentor, his technical and artistic skill, the loyalty of his client base, and his perceived integrity. Revere’s long record of silver output, ranging from small objects to high-prestige teapots and symbolic works such as the Liberty Bowl, provided him with an enduring reputation and a practice that remained profitable until his retirement.80 His success depended on more than just technical skills, and some of these other abilities prepared him for his post-silverworking ventures.
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