At the time Edward C. Moore was born in 1827, a double-wide
store already stood at Nos. 53 and 55 Prince Street. In 1831 it was being leased by Isaac Green
Pearson.
It was around this time that Moore’s father established the John
Moore & Co. silver manufacturing firm.
Moore’s high-quality silverware was sold to New York’s premier jewelers
and silver dealers—most notably Marquand & Co. and their successors, Ball, Tompkins
& Black. A young Edward C. Moore
learned the silver-making business under his father’s tutelage.
Before John C. Moore retired in 1851 he entered into an exclusive
agreement with another high-end retail jeweler—Tiffany & Co. All
the Moore designs and silverware were now made for Tiffany & Co. only.
Edward C. Moore took over the reins of the family
business. He was much more than a
businessman or artisan; he had uncanny foresight and a brilliant design sense. The Illustrated American would later say that
he “was easily the foremost silversmith in the United States. It is largely due to his skill and industry
that American silverware has reached a degree of perfection that makes it
celebrated all over the world.”
In 1856 William M. Crittenton was “carrying on the
manufacture of wines, cordials, &c., at No. 55 Prince-street,” according to
court papers on August 11. But both
Crittenton’s business and the old building would soon be gone. In 1864 Edward Moore replaced it with a handsome factory
building for his silver operation.
A cast iron base supported four floors of brown brick that
could as easily pass for a school. In
what might be called “industrial Gothic,” the upper openings were given
slightly-pointed arches and were gathered in pairs by brick drip moldings.
Moore’s “plant” was not merely a production facility. He established a school here. Looking back on August 29, 1891, The
Illustrated American remembered “Early in the sixties Mr. Moore saw the need of
better artistic instructions and, realizing the meager facilities offered in
this city, more particularly in the decorative and industrial arts, he set to
work to establish a system of instruction and training in his Prince Street
works that soon developed into the most thorough and complete school of its
kind in existence.”
Edward C. Moore’s silver was the face of Tiffany &
Co. His brilliant and innovative designs
were never attributed by the public to him; but always to the retailer. His fascination with ancient glass and
bronze, as well as Asian art, led to full lines of Tiffany & Co. items
inspired by Moorish, Japanese, Roman and other such relics.
In 1867 Moore received a gold medal for his exhibit of
silverware at the Paris Exhibition. The
following year Tiffany & Co. was incorporated by the State of New York and
it purchased Moore’s entire operation.
Moore was made an officer of the new corporation and remained the
leading force in the silver making department.
In a shrewd move, he retained possession of his Prince Street building,
leasing it to Tiffany & Co. for $6,000 per year—a satisfying $93,000 today.
He traveled extensively now, visiting the exotic locations
that inspired him, and studying local technical schools in Paris. His students were directed towards natural
objects—leaves, insects, and flowers, for instance—in their decoration of
silver and bronze. “Constantly seeking
to improve on old methods, silversmithing and metal-working were raised by him
to such a standard that they graded insensibly into the fine arts,” said The Illustrated
American.
Edward C. Moore -- The Illustrated American August 29, 1891 (copyright expired) |
As Moore traveled, he collected items to be used for
inspiration at home. His home on Madison
Avenue, “the old Stebbins mansion,” as described by The Collector on May 1, 1892, included a sky-lit gallery where
between 1,600 and 1,700 pieces were displayed.
“There are in the collection specimens of antique Roman, Cyprian, Etruscan, Merovingian, Venetian, Persian and Arab. German and Spanish glass; Chinese and Japanese pottery; Hispano-Moresque, Rhodian, Damascus and Persian pottery, Corean porcelain; Chinese glass jades and crystals; an unusual collection, both in number and quality, of Tanagra figurines; Saracenic metal work of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; Persian, Turkish, Cashmere and Indian metal; Japanese and Chinese bronzes, swords and sword guards; inros and netsuykis wood and ivory carvings, lacquers and Japanese basket work.’ And the list went on. And on.
“There are in the collection specimens of antique Roman, Cyprian, Etruscan, Merovingian, Venetian, Persian and Arab. German and Spanish glass; Chinese and Japanese pottery; Hispano-Moresque, Rhodian, Damascus and Persian pottery, Corean porcelain; Chinese glass jades and crystals; an unusual collection, both in number and quality, of Tanagra figurines; Saracenic metal work of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; Persian, Turkish, Cashmere and Indian metal; Japanese and Chinese bronzes, swords and sword guards; inros and netsuykis wood and ivory carvings, lacquers and Japanese basket work.’ And the list went on. And on.
In the Prince Street Plant, as it was called, Moore’s
innovative designs came to life. “The
Persian, North of India, and Oriental schools contributed to his knowledge,”
remarked The Illustrated American, “but his originality was shown by the fact
that his observations and constant studies and researches were ever creating
and developing something peculiarly his own.
A notable instance was his famous ‘hammered silverware,’ first exhibited
by the Tiffanys at the Paris Exposition of 1878.”
These items, purely Moore’s creations but attributed to
Tiffany & Co., introduced the ground-breaking concept of mounting insects,
birds, fish, and foliage of a contrasting metal—gold or copper, for instance—onto
the sterling surfaces.
Moore’s anonymity was not purely due to Tiffany & Co.’s
desire to hog the spotlight. Modest and
retiring, he was “almost morbidly averse to publicity of any kind” and “passed
through life without assuming in the eyes of the general public the credit he so
well deserved,” according to The Illustrated American.
In the meantime, the Prince Street Plant employed hundreds
of artisans who produced an astonishing volume of housewares for Tiffany & Co. store, then located on Union
Square. In April 1877 Tiffany
& Co. announced in The Sun that its stock “of sterling silverware is the
largest in the United States. They are constantly
producing at their Prince street City Works a class of finer goods,
representing many methods of ornamentation practiced exclusively by them. Their
stock of family silver and articles for Wedding Presents, at Popular Prices, is
the most attractive they have ever shown.”
The high quality of Tiffany silver required the best-trained
artisans. When the firm advertised on
December 27, 1880 for a melter, “one with practical experience with silver and
gold,” it warned the applicants not to show up without solid references. “Apply with testimonials.”
By 1887 Tiffany & Co. had two other manufacturing plants—one
in Brooklyn and another in Newark. That
year the Prince Street facility faced problems.
On April 21 the Knights of Labor ordered a walk-out of silversmiths city-wide. The New-York Tribune reported the following day
“what looks like a long fight between the silver manufacturers and their
employes has begun.”
The Prince Street plant employed about 300 silver workers, “but
barely 100 of them were in their places when time was called at 7 a.m.,”
reported the Tribune.
Edward C. Moore spoke
to a reporter from The Sun, lamenting
that the union had brought his operation to a standstill. “We have about 100 men left in our
manufactory in Prince street, but really they have taken out every man who
manufactures our goods; that is, goods that we sell over our counters. They left us pattern workers, designers, and
men of that character. I must say that
these walking delegates and agitators are very shrewd, and the manufacturers
have much to learn from them.”
Nevertheless, neither Tiffany management nor Edward Moore
intended to cave in to the unions. Moore
was firm in saying “We have been pestered and annoyed beyond reason by the
leaders of the workingmen. We’ll have no
more of it. We are ready to meet any of
our men who are disposed to return to work. They can return by complying with our demand of withdrawing from the
organization.”
Edward C. Moore was titled Chevalier and decorated with the
Legion of Honor at the Paris Exposition of 1889. Although virtually unknown to the public, he
was highly regarded within the industry as a genius and pioneer. “Etching on metals was another distinct
branch of the industry which Mr. Moore has developed, until to-day it is gradually
supplanting engraving,” mentioned The Illustrated American.
He died in 1891 having created the personality of Tiffany & Co. silverware. His good friend, S. P Avery said, “the world will never fully know the loss it met with in the death of Mr. Moore, and what he did for the industrial arts will never be wholly told.”
He died in 1891 having created the personality of Tiffany & Co. silverware. His good friend, S. P Avery said, “the world will never fully know the loss it met with in the death of Mr. Moore, and what he did for the industrial arts will never be wholly told.”
In 1894 the number of silver workers No. 55
Prince Street was 392—350 men, 20 women, 10 boys under 15 years old, 10 girls
under 18, and two girls under 16. Among
the men was 35-year old August Burgen who lived a few blocks away from the
factory, on Pitt Street.
On February 26 that year Burgen left work as usual. He never returned. Family members did not notify police because
they believed “that he would turn up all right.” It was not until a body was pulled from the
East River on the night of March 6 that Burgen’s cousin, Frank Burgen, arrived
at the morgue to investigate. He had two
theories concerning his cousin’s disappearance.
“He had been expecting some money from his father who lives
in Alsace, and because it did not arrive he was feeling despondent. It may be, however, that he got the money on
the day when he was last seen by me, and has met with foul play.”
The Evening World described Burgen as “about 5 feet 7 inches
tall, had dark brown hair and moustache and incipient goatee, but no beard. His
nose is described as ‘stub.’ He wore
dark clothing.”
After the badly decomposed corpse had been studied by Frank Burgen for some time, it
was of little help. “It may
be the one I’m looking for, although the features are too much obliterated to
be recognizable,” he said.
The extremely high regard for Tiffany & Co.’s quality
and innovation was exemplified in 1896 when Cardinal Francesco Satolli, the first
Apostolic delegate to the United States visited New York. On October 14 Archbishop Michael Corrigan
escorted the former Papal Delegate on a sightseeing trip around Manhattan,
which included impressive stops like the American Institute Fair at Madison
Square Garden. But, according to The
Sun, their first visit was to “Tiffany’s factory.”
Within the year Tiffany & Co.’s astounding success and
resultant increased business were making the Prince Street plant insufficient. On December 1 1897 the firm announced in The
Sun “Having outgrown our manufacturing facilities both at our Prince Street
works and in our Leather goods shop in Union Square, we have erected a new
building at Forest Hill, Newark, N.J., with sufficient capacity to embrace
both.”
Before Tiffany & Co. gave up its old factory, it set to
work reclaiming the precious metals that had found their way into the
floorboards over the decades. The
boards were pulled up, burned, and the molten silver and gold recovered.
The building became the property of Mary P. Moore, who
resold it to confectioners Hawley & Hoops in November 1904. In reporting the sale the Real Estate Record
and Builders’ Guide noted “This is the old Tiffany factory property.”
The new owners commissioned architect Charles E. Reid to
draw plans for $15,000 “worth of improvements.”
The Record and Guide reported these would include a five-story side
extension “and several interior changes.”
John Savage Hawley was born in upstate New York, but had
spent a great deal of time in Texas, Nevada and California. He made a modest fortune in the lumber
industry. But when he returned to New
York in 1870, he divested himself of his lumber interests and invested the funds in candy
making with partner Herman Hoops.
When they moved their candy factory into the “splendid
five-story building,” they were employing up to 800 workers and were among the
largest confectioners in the nation.
The company’s candies were marketed under the brand name “A No. 1” and
from here they produced “plain and decorated creams, marshmallows, plain and
fine chocolate creams, premium mixed candy, peerless vanilla chocolate, cream
almonds, pralines and macaroons.” Little
boys were especially fond of the chocolate cigars.
Hawley & Hoops brought in the latest in candy-making
machinery, some of which John Hawley designed.
He was responsible for the pressing machines that embossed chocolates
into shapes—buffaloes, violins, smoking pipes and lobsters, for instance.
Hawley & Hoops remained in business until 1952. That year Forrest Mars purchased the
operation, merging it with his M & M Mars candy company.
Throughout the decades Nos. 53-55 Prince Street
would be home to a variety of small manufacturers and businesses. Its history as the workplace of some of the
world’s most expert silversmiths and designers was slowly forgotten.
Then, in 1982 as the Soho neighborhood was transformed by
artists into one of galleries and studios, the upper floors were converted to “joint
living-working quarters for artists” and the ground floor became an art studio
and store. The conversion was completed
in 1985.
Today the handsome factory building is home to E. R. Butler
& Co, manufacturers of architectural hardware. The firm has sympathetically restored the façade,
which appears much as it did when some of the world’s most sophisticated and
expensive silver pieces were designed and manufactured here.
photographs by the author
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