Every couple of years, I get the itch in me to write about silver. Not silver jewelry or bars or coins, but flatware and hollowware. Most readers hopefully know that we are talking about the fine silver made for use at the dining room table. The market on this silver has been fascinating to watch over the years. When I was a boy, back in the 1970s, the Hunt brothers, in pursuit of a speculative price on silver, drove prices to untold levels. I vividly recall that every hotel and motel had a scrap dealer who came and would offer cash on the barrel based upon the spot price of silver for whatever people wanted to bring in. My grandfather had a bad habit of dropping sterling flatware down the garbage disposal, and we had some truly mangled items. So with those in hand, we went in, they weighed them, paid us cash and tossed them in a bucket for the smelter. My memory was more shock than anything else as I saw a lot of really beautiful silver in that bucket also heading to be melted. I recall reading that in the United Kingdom, families would bring in their fathers and grandfathers silver military medals to melt them down as part of the rush. It was a sad day, and much bad, good and great silver got turned into bars and ingots. Fast forward to the hot and heavy 1990s when everything in the market went insane and prices were crazy. Some good books appeared about high style Victorian silver, and the market for those items went through the roof. All of a sudden, big Gorham sterling urns were bringing five figure prices. It was the peak of the passion for Victoriana, and folks piled on to buy and sell. At the same time, a number of clock books were being published, and collectors became aware that many rural clockmakers, particularly in Pennsylvania, also purportedly made coin silver. While recent scholarship shows that most of those spoons marked by clockmakers were in fact made in Philadelphia and retailed elsewhere, there was a rush to find regional coin silver. This was also fed by the Museum of Early Southern Decorative Arts publications identifying hundreds of new makers. It was a hot time for coin silver as well. In the midst of all this, there was a steady and constant background drumbeat about the big name silver makers and/or retailers. Tiffany, of course, but also Bailey Banks and Biddle plus Caldwells. The wares from these companies were never inexpensive and so the secondary market priced itself accordingly when flatware and hollowware appeared. Perhaps the giant of this period was Kirk-Stieff, whose repousse pattern became the standard that everyone wanted. I recall cataloging a massive set at Conestoga Auction Co. It weighed a great deal, was beautifully executed, and it brought a strong five figure price. The name, the quality and the original pricing drove the market for this pattern, which was, and still is, a must have. Finally, there was the beginning of a new passion among collectors in this period for Mexican silver. It was a topic that had not been heavily explored in the past, although the intelligentsia of the antiques trade did deal in names like William Spratling. An influx of big money in Florida, Texas, New Mexico and California drove nouveau riche to buy Mexican silver from the 1920s onward. As someone who loves this material, I recall the crazy prices people were paying. I purchased a massive hot water pot by a good Mexican maker and doubled my money on it at auction within a year. Those were the heady days of silver collecting. But what is happening now? Stay tuned for the next column. Born to collect should be the motto of Peter Seiberts family. Raised in Central Pennsylvania, Seibert has been collecting and writing about antiques for more than three decades. By day, he is a museum director and has worked in Pennsylvania, Wyoming, Virginia and New Mexico. In addition, he advises and consults with auction houses throughout the Mid-Atlantic region, particularly about American furniture and decorative arts. Seiberts writings include books on photography, American fraternal societies and paintings. He and his family are restoring a 1905 arts and crafts house filled with years worth of antique treasures found in shops, co-ops and at auctions.