posted 02-23-2010 06:05 PM            

The above teaspoon is in the fiddle thread pattern and is by Louis Jaccard, a St. Louis silversmith. While this is just a guess by me, the name engraved on the spoon most likely for Stephen Ridgley.

Mr. Ridgley was a successful St. Louis merchant in the 19th century and in 1889 gave $66,000 to Washington University for the building of a "fireproof library". Ridgley Hall was still the name of the library when I was at Washington University some 50 years ago and I have fond memories of walking by this building. I guess I should have gone in more often, but that is another story.

posted 02-25-2010 12:07 AM            

These tablespoons are French, of course, with the large Paris guarantee mark in use 1819-1838 and the mark for first standard (.950) silver for the same period. The maker’s mark is only partially struck on each, but fortunately enough remains to combine the two and read the complete mark: JO, with a cross between and a star above and below. It’s the mark of Jean-François Oury, orfèvre-cuilleriste [goldsmith-spoonmaker] working at 7 passage de la Réunion, 1819-1836.

But I found these spoons here in New Orleans, and the distinctly American lengthwise engraving suggests they were imported here. And the name “Wm. Freret” certainly meant something to me.

William Freret (1804-1864) served as mayor of New Orleans in two non-consecutive terms, 1840-1842 and 1843-1844. He is generally regarded as one of the city’s best, being a sound and efficient administrator, his tenure marked by economic recovery from the Panic of 1837 and the establishment of the city’s free public school system. He later served briefly as Collector of the Port of New Orleans, but was better known for the large cotton press he operated in New Orleans’ American sector with his brother James. His son, William A. Freret (1833-1911), was a noted architect.

Many years after I bought these, a Freret descendant confirmed that they did, in fact, belong to the mayor. His estate had been split up over the generations, and apparently many of the surviving family members were peeved when some of it began popping up on the market thanks to less sentimental descendants.