Ackermann Pets

I've noticed that some of Ackermann's fashion plates show women carrying parrots or small birds, so it must have been a popular thing to own birds. Raising pigeons and doves for food has been a common pastime since who knows when. Early farm management books always include a section on the building and operation of dovecotes. The Repository has pictures of elegant aviaries for the wealthy to build on their estates.

Later pictures of home interiors often include caged birds, probably canaries. I came upon a genealogy website forum where a woman had discovered an ancestor's birth certificate from 1846 which listed the father's occupation as "bird fancier". Since all the men in the family were carpenters, it seemed unlikely that this man was an upper-class person whose main occupation was raising and studying birds. Most likely, he specialized within carpentry in the making of pigeon cages.

Many years ago, I read of a collection of photos of American prairie settlers posing for family photographs in front of their dwellings. Most of the houses were extremely primitive, often sod houses built by first generation pioneers.  In each photo, there was a bird cage. It's fascinating to imagine this family making the very difficult journey westward with this caged bird, but it must have been an important part of "home" to have the chirping and singing of this little bird with them. Interesting that they brought the cage outdoors with them for the photograph, including little Birdie in the family portrait.

Thomas Jefferson in his study, 1803

Here's an interesting painting of Thomas Jefferson in his study at the White House in 1803. Click the link for an interactive study of the photograph, pointing out parts of the room and its decor, telling much about this fascinating man. Notice the stuffed owls on the bookcase.

Dolly and Minerva invite all their bird-loving friends to a bird fanciers' party, with awful results. Having a bird feeder myself, it's obvious that different breeds of birds are not friendly toward each other. Some birds kill and eat others, as people involved in hawking and falconry know.

The Problem With Prints

I spend too much time on the web, browsing for old prints and trying to clean them up digitally. Old paper, even the much superior paper of yesteryear, decays and discolors, and the inks run. I've tried to fix up several lovely old pictures that are marred by the printing from the back of the page, and it's pretty hopeless. Poor Dolly has the same problem with one of her new dresses. I hope she got it on a clearance sale!

Ackermann's Obsession

Rudolph Ackermann was an interesting man with a mechanical mind. Born in Germany in 1764, he hoped to go to university, but was prevented from doing so by lack of money. Instead, he followed his father's trade as a saddle-maker, and eventually set up his own saddle-making and coach-building business. Moving to London in 1795, he began a printing business and art instruction school. Setting up a lithographic press, he sold popular prints, selling artists' materials on the side. He was always tweaking his machines and materials, which resulted in the most lovely prints of his time. You can compare his products with other fashion prints of the day, and Ackermann wins every time. 

Ackermann was fascinated with the latest developments in carriage-building and included the newest vehicles in the Repository, complete with diagrams of the mechanical aspects. He patented a new mechanism for front wheels, the Ackermann Steering Geometry. A look through his furniture selection reveals his interest in mechanical and multi-functional pieces. Desks or dressing tables folded out, revealing all sorts of spaces for filing and storage. Chairs reclined, folded up, rolled on wheels, or included writing surfaces. All that was missing was a cup holder! I can imagine him living today, producing fabulous computer work centers and amazing storage systems. 

1824 dressing table

Dolly and Minerva have bought a new combination lounge chair and writing desk for Father's birthday. I think he could also use it for house calls from the dentist, chiropractor, or massage therapist! Little Horatio has his own use for it.

Regency Furniture

The ugliest piano ever.

A look through Ackermann's furniture prints reveals a style no one has endeavored to keep alive. When we think of 19th century furniture, almost everyone thinks of high Victorian style: a room jam-packed with curvy, velvet-upholstered seating, flowery carpets, four kinds of wallpaper, massive drapery on windows, doors, and mantelpieces, tables, bookcases, and whatnots laden with innumerable bric-a-brac, huge framed pictures hanging from the ceiling rail, and a potted palm desperately reaching for the little sunlight that is allowed into the room.

During Regency times, we have a whole different set of influences. Neoclassical, or French Empire style drew from the model of classical civilizations. Architect Robert Adam went gung-ho for classical in the last quarter of the 18th century, which is why most of American public buildings look like they should be in ancient Rome. Napoleon appropriated the look (along with much of Europe), which developed into what was called French Empire. Light colors were preferred for walls and drapery. Gone was the dark wood of Georgian furniture, and replaced with light-colored woods or painted finishes.Although chairs were often light-weight, in the klismos style, most furniture was heavy and monumental. Stationary pieces were often ornamented with pillar-like legs or carved human or mythical figures. Some of the curves of Rococo style remained, especially in the daybed, still called a recamier, after the painting of Mme. Recamier reclining on one. Mme. Recamier reclined a lot. But all in all, big and straight was the look of the day.

Another hideous piano.

Bottom line -- I can't see anyone going out to buy Ackermann's furniture, even on a big clearance sale. I wonder where it all went.  Years ago, I, with no shame, retrieved a huge chair from neighborhood trash day. It was in awful shape, with rotted upholstery fabric. I tore it all off and found it was stuffed with bags and bags of chaff and many rusted springs. I showed it to an upholsterer who told me to hang on to it, as it was a German chair from the mid-1800s. I've still got it up in the barn, waiting for lots of work. It's just massive. There are lots of similar chairs out there, although I haven't found one quite like it.

Don't you wish everyone had saved these sofas (said no one ever)? Look what some Russians bought! And Hortense de Beauharnais (Empress Josephine's daughter)!

Thanks to 1stdibs for wonderful antique furniture pics!

Where the boys are

The girls accompany Father to a meeting of the Antiquarians, hoping it will be a way to meet gentlemen of education and refinement, and possibly, have some fun.  They are sporting jaunty caps which must have been a well-accepted style, as Dolly's was featured in Ackermann's Repository in 1809, while Minerva's was in an 1816 issue. I think they are quite cute, and would enjoy wearing the dresses as well.

The Antiquarians meeting reminds me of the old World War II song where the young woman complains about the available men, "They're either too young or too old, they're either too gray or too grassy green". Or really boring. (Says the woman who makes digital pictures out of 200 year old magazines.)

Living in the Repository

Dolly and Minerva are pretty well bound up within the confines of Ackermann's Repository. It's not so bad, since there is such a wide variety of information to be found in each month's issue. Just cast an eye at this table of contents for the January 1812 issue. Something for everyone!

However, Mother has had other influences, having married into a branch of the Ackermann family from some as-yet unknown publication. Her knowledge is sometimes a bit unsettling for the girls.

The Man Cave

Father is a scholar and loves nothing better (except Mother, of course) than being surrounded by all his books and researchy stuff. Mother nags him hints constantly about the chaos and general dilapidation of his study, but he turns a deaf ear. Today he is entertaining a guest, Mr. Frederic Schoberl, the editor of Ackermann's Repository. Mr. Schoberl made the magazine a compendium of all sorts of information. Although it is known primarily for its fashion prints today, it was officially Ackermann's  Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics, and every issue was jam-packed with all of the above and more, all guided by good taste and extreme discretion. No gossip or scandal in this magazine!