Ladies' Facilities in the 1700s to 1900s

Loretta reports:

In the course of trying to get a bit more information about this Victorian era public urinal, at the Museum of London, I wound up in a dead end. All I know about it is more or less what I’d learned about the public facilities in Paris.

However, I did discover more about how and where ladies answered Nature’s call during the 18th and 19th centuries. The short answer: It wasn't easy.

These days, we are frustrated by the long lines outside ladies’ lavatories: Why don’t they install more stalls? But at least we can find rather nice facilities. In London, for instance, I found such interesting and elegant ones that I started photographing them.

In the time of my stories, ladies’ public facilities were not so elegant, to the extent that they existed at all.

According to the Museum of London’s feature on Vauxhall Gardens:

“Respectable’ women, in particular, were suddenly in a situation where access to a discreet and reasonably hygienic toilet facility could not be taken for granted. In Vauxhall, a communal women’s privy appears to have existed, and was illustrated in a satirical print by the artist Thomas Rowlandson, although this may be an exaggerated representation – Rowlandson was known for his scatological and titillating images of women. Still, many women – and men – must have taken advantage of the garden’s dark corners and convenient plants.”

The Inside of Lady's Garden at Vauxhall (1788)

Susan has discussed this Rowlandson illustration in detail here. You can read the full Museum of London article here.

It's rather shocking to discover that it wasn’t until the 1920s that busineses began providing accommodations for women . This was also, I notice, about the time that women got the vote.

Rowlandson, Sympathy, or A Family On A Journey Laying The Dust (1784),

Images: Victorian urinal at Museum of London photograph by me; Rowlandson, The Inside of Lady's Garden at Vauxhall (1788), courtesy Yale University Library; Thomas Rowlandson, Sympathy, or A Family On A Journey Laying The Dust (1784), courtesy Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Clicking on the image will enlarge it.  Clicking on the caption will take you to the source, where you can learn more and enlarge images as needed.

London's Kensal Green Cemetery

Loretta reports:

I’ve posted before about the garden cemetery movement, and the development of municipal cemeteries in response to overcrowded and squalid burial grounds. Thanks to my husband, I discovered in London The General Cemetery of All Souls, Kensal Green—more generally known as Kensal Green Cemetery. There, in the course of a tour, I discovered the burial places of many persons I’d learned about while researching my books. One of these was the famous Regency-era equestrian Andrew Ducrow, whose tomb I blogged about.

Today we’ll take a look at this beautiful cemetery itself.

Interestingly, like Worcester’s Rural Cemetery, it got started thanks to a lawyer, George Frederick Carden. Like so many others in the garden cemetery movement, he was inspired by Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris.  Unlike many others, though, Kensal Green, London’s first commercial cemetery, is still run by the original company, the General Cemetery Company, under its original Act of Parliament. In the beginning, however, business looked a little shaky. Though it opened in 1833, it wasn't exactly overwhelmed with customers. Then in 1843 the Prince Augustus Frederick, Duke of Sussex—one of King George III's many sons—decided to be buried there because Windsor’s burial facility apparently gave him the creeps. Thenceforth Kensal Green became THE place to be planted.

Detail of the second monument

Our fabulous tour guide

It's true. Though not nearly as well-known today as Highgate Cemetery, Kensal Green was, until shortly after the turn of the 20th century, the most fashionable cemetery in England. Everybody who was anybody wanted to be buried here.

Like Highgate, sadly, it could use some TLC. Monuments, like Ducrow’s, are crumbling. The Friends of Kensal Green have been working to research and restore the monuments. It was one of these Friends who led our walking tour, and his love of the place was clear. If you are in London, I strongly recommend you take one of their Sunday tours. Along with the amazing variety of monuments, the stories about the famous and less so, there’s abundant nature—the plantings, the birds and other wildlife—to create a very special refuge from the bustle of the metropolis.

For more of the story and the denizens of the place, please visit the Friends of Kensal Green website and the Kensal Green Cemetery website.

All photographs copyright © 2017 Walter M. Henritze III.
Please click on images to enlarge.

The Naked Ladies of York House, Twickenham

Loretta reports:

I’m happy to say that our trip to London held many, many excellent surprises, not least among them the Naked Ladies at York House in Twickenham. The first surprise was learning that York House wasn’t the home of any Dukes of York. It was the home of the Yorke family, and built for one of King Charles I’s courtiers. Since then, it’s had more than its share of owners—including Anne Seymour Damer, a sculptor who was Horace Walpole’s great friend. (No, I didn’t get to Strawberry Hill this time. Next time, I hope.)

But among the artists, aristocrats, and would-be monarchs who called York House home, the one who caught my attention was Sir Ratan Tata—because he’s the one who’s responsible for installing these statues in the garden. They’ve led an exciting life, certainly. They belonged originally to Whitaker Wright, who killed himself with cyanide after a conviction for fraud. Sir Ratan, who ran a then-legal opium importing business, socialized with King George V.  During WWII, the ladies had to be camouflaged under some sort of dark substance, to avoid attracting the attention of German bombers.

I will admit that some of the poses puzzled us—and we’re not the only ones. Those responsible for installing the statues were puzzled, too, because they had to figure out how to arrange the figures without guidance from either the artist or written instructions. Furthermore, these Naked Ladies were meant to be part of a larger ensemble, but the other statues went elsewhere—possibly with the instructions. Still, while the arrangement may not be what the artist originally intended, it certainly does stop a visitor in her tracks.

You can learn more about the statues and their history at the York House Society website, in this PDF (this material appears on a sign near the statues as well, which proved impossible to photograph), at the Twickenham Museum site, and of course at Wikipedia, where you can learn more about York House as well as the Naked Ladies.

All images: Photo copyright © 2017 Walter M. Henritze III

Please click on images to enlarge.

Holland House

Loretta reporting from London:

After checking into our flat in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, we made our way up for greenery, to Holland Park. During the time of my stories this was one of the great London estates. Its immense Jacobean House became the model for Marchmont House, a setting in "Lord Lovedon's Duel."  Sadly, very little of the house remains. It survived long after other great London houses, like Northumberland House, were demolished in the 1800s and early 1900s. But WWII bombing destroyed all but a very little. Still, a large, beautiful park and garden remain, along with a youth hostel and cafe created in surviving, repaired pieces of the house.

The Mound House of Estero Island

Loretta reports:

I guess this is the week Susan and I blog about houses.

My subject, in Florida, is by far the younger structure, dating to the early 1900s. Surrounded by a beautiful garden, the Mound House overlooks Estero Bay.

What makes this place remarkable are the ancient foundations on which it’s built: a shell mound 2,000 years old. Native American coastal people known as the Calusa built it between 100 BC and AD 700. Here they lived, fished, worked and played. Then, for reasons unknown, they stopped living here in AD 700. They would come by to the edges to repair nets and clean fish, but otherwise stopped using it. What we know of them indicates that they weren’t driven out—not that early, at any rate, because they were apparently the most powerful people in South Florida, to whom other tribes paid tribute. Centuries later, in 1513, they attacked Ponce de Leon the first time he stopped by, and are believed to have fatally wounded him on his second visit, eight years later.

May I add that every sentence here could easily be expanded into a blog post—and that’s only before 1600. The 20th century alone is filled with Mound House incident. The place, in short, has quite an exciting and not always peaceful history. But let’s stick to the shells, millions of them, in distinctive layers, which archaeologists have used to piece together the site’s history.

Ironically, we wouldn’t know as much as we do (and as archaeologists continue to learn), if one of the house’s owners hadn’t engaged in wanton destruction, bulldozing the site for a swimming pool. When, years later, the Town of Fort Myers Beach acquired the site and the pool was removed, archaeologists could study the mound site in detail.

Searching “Mound House, Estero Island” online will bring you to a number of articles about the site. You may also want to check out their blog, which includes a video of the demise of the swimming pool and what was revealed.

Note: The image of the Calusa is part of an immense mural that covers a wall of the information center.

Clicking on the image will enlarge it.  Clicking on the caption will take you to the source, where you can learn more and enlarge images as needed.

Before Refrigerators: The Ice House

Ice House 1817

Loretta reports:

Ice houses weren’t as rare in England as the excerpt from Ackermann's Repository for June 1817 makes one believe. Neither were baths, for that matter. And London did have its share of both. In the 17th century, King Charles II had not only one, but six ice houses built, including one for his mistress the Duchess of Cleveland.* You can read more about ice houses here, here, and here.

Photo of Duchess of Cleveland’s ice house scanned from Christopher Symon Sykes's Private Palaces.

Ice House Described

Ice House Described

*If you'd like to learn more about this remarkable woman, I highly recommend Susan Holloway Scott's (aka the other NHG) Royal Harlot.

Clicking on the image will enlarge it.  Clicking on the caption will take you to the source, where you can learn more and enlarge images as needed.

Atlanta's Historic Oakland Cemetery

View of Bell Tower Ridge

Loretta reports:

The first time I visited, years ago, all I knew about Atlanta’s oldest public cemetery was, Margaret Mitchell was buried there. Then I knew nothing about the rural cemetery movement, only that this was a beautiful place.

On my most recent trip to Atlanta, I had the privilege of touring Oakland Cemetery with members of the Historic Oakland Foundation, as they planned their annual Halloween tour. My lips are sealed about the tour, but I promise a fascinating experience for those who join it next October.

Still, Oakland is well worth a visit, no matter what.* In spring it’s simply glorious, with its flowering trees and shrubs and joyous birdsong. Though not originally planned as a rural cemetery, it is, like others I’ve visited, an oasis amid the city’s hubbub. It’s a park—a Certified Wildlife Habitat, in fact. This one, though, is filled with stories.

It’s the End of the Trail for Benjamin F. Perry, Jr. who designed the Buffalo Head nickel. Golfer Bobby Jones rests here, too. So does Maynard Jackson, Atlanta’s first African-American mayor, whose grave’s placement “would symbolize the final breaking of the color line within Oakland’s Original Six Acres.”

Slave Square

Yes, the cemetery was segregated, and yes, the Confederacy looms large here—the Civil War and segregation are part of US. history. But here, too, in the Rawson mausoleum, are buried Julian** and Julia Harris, who owned the Columbus Enquirer-Sun, a paper that won the 1926 Pulitzer Prize for “the service which it rendered in its brave and energetic fight against the Ku Klux Klan; against the enactment of a law barring the teaching of evolution; against dishonest and incompetent public officials and for justice to the Negro and against lynching.”

Along with politics and war are human stories, many told briefly but poignantly in epitaphs, as well as art, from grand monuments and mausoleums with beautiful stained glass to small, delicately carved stone markers.

All quotations are from Ren and Helen Davis’s Atlanta’s Oakland Cemetery: An Illustrated History and Guide, a handsomely illustrated book offering exactly what the title promises: a detailed history as well as guide to the cemetery’s several “neighborhoods” (with maps), tales of those buried therein as well as that of the cemetery’s restoration.

*There are guided walking tours year round as well as special tours.
**Son of Joel Chandler Harris.

The Rural Cemetery of Worcester, MA

Worcester's Rural Cemetery

Loretta reports:

I am a huge fan of cemeteries, and Worcester, though a small city, has several. I didn’t know that the places I admired so much were known as “garden” or “rural” cemeteries until my husband educated me. I had assumed that cemeteries were always park-like places, even though I’d visited a number of the remaining old-style burial grounds—or parts of them—preserved next to churches in the middle of cities. Even when reading Dickens’s Bleak House, with its ghastly image of an overcrowded burial ground, stinking of decay, I didn’t quite get it. Understanding the history deeply enhanced (as history normally does) my appreciation of these places.


So naturally I was excited to attend a lecture* recently “Withdrawn from the Bustle of the World: Worcester’s First Garden Cemetery.” [Coincidentally, a few days ago I came upon a terrific article that explains the development of the garden cemetery. I’ll let you click on the article to get the background, while I offer a few tidbits from the lecture I attended.]


In November 1837, a local lawyer, Edward D. Bangs, gave what turned out to be a stunningly effective Lyceum lecture, pushing for Worcester to create a rural cemetery. Worcester had three burial places in the center of town, all horribly overcrowded, disrespected, and neglected. And kind of gross. One enterprising business used the cemetery next door for drying clothes. Nobody’s grave was permanent. In one case, when railroad needed the space where a burial ground was, the railroad got it.

Bangs's 1837 lecture turned out to be inspiring beyond what you’d imagine. Others in the city, especially those of a horticultural turn, had already caught the garden cemetery bug, and a couple of our prosperous, civic-minded citizens bought land with cemeteries in mind. In September 1838—yes, less than a year after the lecture—Worcester’s first rural cemetery (called, aptly, Rural Cemetery) was dedicated, on land donated by Daniel Waldo.

In their early days, before the advent of public parks, rural cemeteries served as parks as well as places of burial. There, not only could families finally own and tend to their plots, but members of the public could also get away from the bustle and noise of the city and enjoy the trees, flowers, shrubs, and walkways as well as their own thoughts.

Even today, though the city has grown up around it (enough to hide the cemetery—which is why so many people don’t know it exists), the Rural Cemetery remains a beautiful oasis, a place for walking, discovering, and contemplation.


*by William D. Wallace, Executive Director of the Worcester Historical Museum


Photographs by Walter M. Henritze III



Daniel Waldo

Garden Decor for 1821

Bridge & Temple 1821

Loretta reports:

Prose of the early 19th century can be dauntingly indirect. When reading periodicals of the time, I find myself wondering whether there were rules like “Avoid the active voice” and “Never come at a sentence straight on, but wind your way in by means of numerous clauses.”

“An elevated class of decoration” had me scratching my head. Did they mean classy? Or reaching skyward?

For fun, you might want to rewrite the Bridge & Temple description in a modern style.

Meanwhile, we now know to make sure there’s a quarry on our estate, so that we can build our garden ornaments with stone rather than the too-rapidly-decaying wood or plaster.

Bridge & Temple Description 1821

Clicking on the image will enlarge it.  Clicking on the caption will take you to the source, where you can learn more and enlarge images as needed.

Guess the Purpose of These 19thc. Bags

Isabella reporting,

When I first spotted this assortment of simple little bags made from 19th c. printed cotton in A Colorful Folk: Pennsylvania Germans and the Art of Everyday Life, an exhibition currently on display at Winterthur Museum, I'd no idea what treasures they might once have held. Jewelry? Hairpins? Handkerchiefs? Or were they reticules, the small drawstring handbags popular at the time?

I should have guessed their purpose would be more prosaic, given the exhibition's theme. The Germans who settled in Pennsylvania in the 18th-19th c. had an exuberant design sense, and often decorated the most everyday items - from kitchen towels to bread boxes and even the bag that held rags in the outhouse - with fanciful colors and motifs. Scraps of fabric from clothing was transformed into patchwork quilts, or stitched into humble little bags like these.

A closer look at the bags tells their purpose. Two of them, right, have neatly stitched tags with inked labels: Radish says one in careful penmanship, while the other is marked Pink dbl. Hollyhock. They're bags for collecting seeds from the garden and storing them over the winter for planting in the spring, an annual ritual (and an important one) for gardeners.

I like to imagine the housewife who prized her hollyhocks, and perhaps shared the blossoms and seeds only with dearest friends or family members. Perhaps she'd brought the original seeds with her when she'd emigrated to America, or they'd been specially purchased from a seed merchant during a rare trip to Philadelphia. She didn't just write "hollyhocks" on the label. They were "Pink Double Hollyhocks", if you please, and well worth their own special bag, as well as her pride.

Above: Seed bags, cotton and linen, Southeastern Pennsylvania, 1820-80. Winterthur Museum.

Friday Video: Early Spring at Wintherthur

Isabella reporting,

Here on the blog, I've shared many of the treasures of Winterthur Museum, from embroidered silk mantles to a gilded tureen, unforgettable portraits to a porcelain bourdaloue. But in addition to being a world-class museum founded by American collector Henry Francis du Pont, Winterthur is also home to world-class grounds, sixty acres of naturalistic gardens and woodlands that were another passion of Mr. du Pont. Regardless of the season, the gardens are an endless joy to visit.

For those of you who live too far from Delaware for a visit, here's a short video featuring the early spring gardens - two minutes of beauty and serenity to begin your day.

A Cottage for Two Ladies in 1817

1817 cottage

Loretta reports:

Readers enduring vile winter weather may enjoy this bit of escapism—a cottage in a pretty, rural setting.  Given our various posts about servants, it’s interesting to read of two ladies needing three female servants and one gardener.  Would you have expected more or fewer servants?
—Ackermann’s Repository 1817

Cottage description

 

 Images courtesy Philadelphia Art Museum via Internet Archive.

Clicking on the image will enlarge it.  Clicking on the caption will allow you to read at the source, where you can learn more and enlarge images as needed.

The Most Beautiful Man in the World, According to Him

Loretta reports:

In Vixen in Velvet, I mention in connection with Vauxhall a gentleman who called himself “The Ærial”.  His real name was Joseph Leeming, and he’s a treat.  The 9 November entry in Hone’s Every-day Book dealing with him is long but well worth reading in its entirety. Below are some excerpts.

~~~

Vauxhall Orchestra

[Quoting from the 2 July 1825 Times] “An individual in a splendid dress of Spanish costume has excited much attention at Vauxhall gardens  Having walked or rather skipped round the promenade, with a great air of consequence, saluting the company as he passed along, he at length mingled amongst the audience in the front of the orchestra, and distributed a number of cards, on each of which was written, ‘The Ærial challenges the whole world to find a man that can in any way compete with him as such.’”
He conceives that he is the most beautiful person in the world, and hence besides calling himself “the Ærial”, the “New Discovery,” and “the Great Unknown,” he adds “the Paragon of Perfection,” “the Phoenix,” “the God of Beauty,” and “the Grand Arcana of Nature.”   ... “Apollo is nothing compared with me; there is no figure to compete with me in any respect, except the Achilles in the park, which may be somewhat like me in the under part of the foot upon the ground.


Images:  The Ærial, from my copy of Hone’s Every-day Book, Vol 1.
Vauxhall Gardens, by Pugin & Rowlandson, from Ackermann’s Microcosm of London courtesy Internet Archive.  You can see a much more beautifully colored, enlargeable-to-gigantic version of this image here at Spitalfields Life.

Clicking on the image will enlarge it.  Clicking on the captions will allow you to read at the source, where you can learn more and enlarge images as needed.

Vauxhall Gardens' M.C., the divine Mr. Simpson

C.H. Simpson, Esq.

Loretta reports:

Those who’ve read my latest Dressmaker book, Vixen in Velvet, will have encountered Mr. C.H. Simpson, Master of Ceremonies for the Royal Gardens, Vauxhall .  He held the post from May 1797 to his death on Christmas Day 1835.

My discovery of Mr. Simpson I owe to David E Coke’s and Alan Borg’s marvelous Vauxhall Gardens: A History.*

Apparently, he worked in obscurity until 1826, when he became a character and a celebrity.  According to Coke & Borg, “Thackeray described him as ‘the gentle Simpson, that kind smiling idiot.’  Always referred to simply by his initials C.H....he was renowned for his excessive politeness, servile manner and elaborate bows.  With his top hat and silver-mounted cane, trademarks from the beginning of his time at Vauxhall, he could easily be seen as a figure of fun.  In his later years he came to be regarded as one of the great attractions of the place, greeting all visitors with his special brand of obsequious courtesy.  He also seems to have had a role in promoting Vauxhall, developing the extravagant caricature of his personality to very good effect.”

Of course I became intrigued, even though I needed him for only a few lines of my story.  It grieves me to report that I couldn’t find his autobiography, short though it is, anywhere online, and the nearest library holding it is the British Library.  That would be in London.

Here, under The Sublime and Beautiful in Language, you can find a sample of Mr. Simpson’s style of expression.  And you can scroll down to a poem about him here: The Simpson Jubilee.

Image at upper left, C. H. Simpson, Esq. M.C.R.G.V. by Robert Isaac Cruikshank 1833, courtesy Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection. 
Color version of the print here.  Another image of Mr. Simpson is here at the British Museum.

* My post about the Vauxhall book is here.  You can find out more about it here.

A Venetian Tent for Your Garden in 1820

View at source here

Loretta reports:

We're finally seeing hints of spring in my part of New England.  Today it rained fiercely and hailed on the daffodils, but they bent their little heads and bore it with patience.  Though gardens hereabouts still don't look like much, we can dream.  Here's a little something for the servants to put together for you.

View at source here

—Ackermann's Repository April 1820

As always, please click on images to enlarge, and click on captions to view the images at their source, where you can enlarge further.

Richard Doyle, Victorian Illustrator

View online here

Loretta reports

One way I develop a a sense of place is by studying drawings, engraved illustrations, prints, and paintings.  I see my early 19th century world, not through the eye of a camera but via an artist’s interpretation or a writer’s picture in words.

Vauxhall Royal Gardens, which no longer exist, except in some illustrations and a pair of photographs, is a case in point. Looking for images of the place, where important scenes of Vixen in Velvet are set, I came upon this illustration by Richard Doyle.

It’s fifteen years later than my story, but all one need do is mentally change the dress and allow for the artist’s humorous interpretation.  Equally important for me, though was discovering this work of Richard Doyle’s, and his talent for drawing crowds in a comical way.

Read online here

Apparently, there isn’t as much of Doyle’s work as there ought to be because he was notoriously unreliable about completing his assignments.  However, he did complete his job for Manners and Customs of ye Englyshe, a delightful little comic picture of London done in the style of Samuel Pepys’s Diary. 
I was particularly struck with the interpretation of Regent’s Street, which in 1849 bears a strong resemblance to the Regent Street I experienced in the late spring of 2012.  My experience didn’t include lions or horses, but the sidewalks were equally jammed, as were the shops. 

Wimpole Hall: a Survivor

View online here

Loretta reports:

In light of the recent repeat post about the privileges of the peerage, I thought we might as well take a look at the way these privileged persons lived.  From time to time I post information about palaces and mansions and such, mainly from Ackermann's Repository.  But numerous series of volumes were published in the 19th century illustrating and describing Great Britain's great houses.  Morris's County Seats of the Noblemen and Gentlemen of Great Britain and Ireland offers color plates.  In looking through it, I was struck with the number of houses that have managed to survive, some in deplorable condition, and some, like Wimpole Hall, continuing to thrive.

Read online here

Casual Friday: The Historic Carousel Goes Round and Round

Loretta reports:

Last time, I mentioned riding on the Carousel at the American Art & Carousel Gallery of the Heritage Museums and Gardens in Sandwich, MA, on Cape Cod. 

Here it is in motion, unfortunately without the wonderful carousel music.  Still, the video does give you a sense of how jewel-like these are, with their mirrors and decorations and beautiful painting.

NHG Library features Vauxhall Gardens: A History

Loretta reports:

I’ve been wanting to write about this book ever since I bought it.  The trouble is, we try to keep these posts short, and it’s hard (for me, at any rate) to keep from raving endlessly.  In a nutshell, Vauxhall Gardens: a History, is a wonderfully exhaustive study of Lambeth's famous pleasure gardens, from their beginnings in 1661 as the New Spring Gardens to their demise 200 years later.

Since I hadn't needed to research it, what I knew about Vauxhall was mainly what I’d gleaned from reading traditional Regency romances.  I've now learned how much more Vauxhall had to offer in the Regency than taking chances with rakes in dark walks or eating thin ham or dancing at a masquerade.

Here’s a description of the first Vauxhall appearance of Madame Saqui, the tight and slack rope performer, in 1816:

"[She ascended] to a considerable elevation, and running with wonderful velocity upon a rope extending half down one of the walks, in the face of a tempest of fireworks, and a change of blue lights, which suddenly converted the shades of evening to the brightness of noon.”

The book includes an evocative illustration of this feat amid the "tempest of fireworks."  You'll find as well engravings of other garden attractions, like the Submarine Cave, balloon ascents (and catastrophes), fetes, and performers.  Among other wonderful images is Louis Jullien holding an umbrella while he sings for a packed audience, all under umbrellas.  As is the orchestra.

View online here

If you want to learn about all the “modern” art that was on display, or see what a season ticket looked like, or learn when Paganini played there, or find out when the Hermitage finally got its hermit, this is the book for you.  The appendices offer the kinds of minutiae Nerdy History Persons dote upon:  detailed catalog of the paintings and what became of them, a chronology of important events, and—be still my heart—maps of the gardens, with locations of various buildings and features, for 1742, 1751, 1818, and 1850.

With the book’s help, I was able to locate some of the images, which you can find on our Pinterest Pages here, here, and here.

Vauxhall broadside courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 US

An Elegant Fountain for 1821

Loretta reports:

A year ago, I posted a description of a fountain in a London shop.  This one's a little different, but equally charming.  I particularly liked the suggestion of a way to make the serpent seem to move.

Read online here

                                                                                                                         

—from Ackermann's Repository, June 1821, courtesy Internet Archive.