Blast from the Past: Lawn Ornaments, Garden Furniture, and Hermits

It's a busy couple of weeks here in NineteenTeen East, what with winding down the summer and helping assorted offspring launch new ventures for the fall. So to follow up on Regina's bothy boys (and my upcoming posts on the very picturesque Iceland), here is a revisit with The Picturesque Hermit. Both Regina and I will be taking next week off to enjoy the last gasp of summer, and are looking forward to regular posting as September gathers up steam. Look for a new report from Carriage & Driver on the latest model year vehicles, continuing eye candy fashion posts, and more!

As our 19th century young lady tourists meandered about the country, guidebooks in hand as they visited scenic vistas and stately homes surrounded by artfully planned “natural” landscapes, they might pause to admire a grotto here, a ruined temple there, an obelisk raised on an artificial hill…or they might stop to check out the resident hermit.

Yes, really.

Just as the wealthy landowners of the 18th century rebuilt their houses into magnificent country seats, so they hired landscape gardeners to design what was really an outdoor set of “rooms”. All those fake ruins and follies and grottoes and medieval herb gardens and Chinese bridges and sylvan groves and statue gardens were the outdoor equivalent of the libraries, music rooms, dining rooms, drawing rooms, and salons indoors—spaces made to impress, to inspire admiration. The outdoor features, beside being “picturesque”, also carried picturesque meanings: a ruined temple symbolized man’s creations overtaken by the forces of nature, for example. And if a ruined temple or nymph’s grotto was “interesting”, how much more so would be if it contained a resident?

But since authentic nymphs were not always easy to find, some wealthy landowners built hermitages—picturesque (of course) dwellings which would be occupied by hermits. And just as ruins had a meaning, so too did hermitages--they symbolized the idea of man's return to nature.

Hermitages ranged from the very rustic--a single room, perhaps made out of wattle and thatch woven into the roots of an overturned tree--to the rather grand--a temple or miniature cathedral (the image above is of the hermitage at Frogmore, from an 1823 issue of Ackermann's Repository). The hermits themselves differed as well. Some were men (sorry, no female hermits--just think of the scandal!) genuinely interested in living a secluded, humble life dedicated to work and prayer…while others were cheerful types willing to appear suitably ragged and “natural” in order to entertain his lordship’s guests out for a stroll in the grounds.

Some landowners had very specific ideas on how their hermits should behave, demanding their potential hermits sign contracts stating that they weren't to speak, or to cut their hair or toenails. Others were more relaxed and invited their resident hermits to mingle with guests as a form of rustic entertainment.

So what do you think? Is there a spare garden shed in your yard? Why not be 19th century and install a hermit in it?

More Than Pretty Pictures

Last week I had the privilege of sitting in on a Regency architecture class given by the incomparable author Cheryl Bolen. Her collection of pictures illustrating both exterior and interior styles, as well as landscapes, are nothing short of brilliant. And you can find them all here on Pinterest. Cheryl has curated pictures of furniture, paintings, various rooms in the country houses and town houses of the rich and famous in England during the early years of the nineteenth century. She even has floor plans. Well worth the look.

And while you’re on Pinterest, might I recommend the following author's and their boards:

Joanna Waugh. Joanna has collected a number of interesting Regency era illustrations, including pictures of Almack’s, Regency performers, arts and crafts, and beekeeping. 

Cora Lee’s Regency Women’s Fashion. All of Cora’s boards are fun (she had me at Historical Dr. Who), but the fashion page is particularly top notch. 

Ann Glover’s Regency pastimes. You’ll find a wealth of information from author and blogger Ann as well, but I loved this board with some pastimes you might not have expected. 

And may I mention that I now have a Regency pets board, with portraits from the late 1700s and early to mid-1800s of people and animals? 

All in all, these are far more than pretty pictures. They are treasures to those who love to read, and write, about the nineteenth century.

Photo by Mike Peel (www.mikepeel.net).

Lawn Ornaments, Garden Furniture, and Hermits

As our 19th century young lady tourists meandered about the country, guidebooks in hand as they visited scenic vistas and stately homes surrounded by artfully planned “natural” landscapes, they might pause to admire a grotto here, a ruined temple there, an obelisk raised on an artificial hill…or they might stop to check out the resident hermit.

Yes, really.

Just as the wealthy landowners of the 18th century rebuilt their houses into magnificent country seats, so they hired landscape gardeners to design what was really an outdoor set of “rooms”. All those fake ruins and follies and grottoes and medieval herb gardens and Chinese bridges and sylvan groves and statue gardens were the outdoor equivalent of the libraries, music rooms, dining rooms, drawing rooms, and salons indoors—spaces made to impress, to inspire admiration. The outdoor features, beside being “picturesque”, also carried picturesque meanings: a ruined temple symbolized man’s creations overtaken by the forces of nature, for example. And if a ruined temple or nymph’s grotto was “interesting”, how much more so would be if it contained a resident?

But since authentic nymphs were not always easy to find, some wealthy landowners built hermitages—picturesque (of course) dwellings which would be occupied by hermits. And just as ruins had a meaning, so too did hermitages--they symbolized the idea of man's return to nature.

Hermitages ranged from the very rustic--a single room, perhaps made out of wattle and thatch woven into the roots of an overturned tree--to the rather grand--a temple or miniature cathedral (the image above is of the hermitage at Frogmore, from an 1823 issue of Ackermann's Repository). The hermits themselves differed as well. Some were men (sorry, no female hermits--just think of the scandal!) genuinely interested in living a secluded, humble life dedicated to work and prayer…while others were cheerful types willing to appear suitably ragged and “natural” in order to entertain his lordship’s guests out for a stroll in the grounds.

Some landowners had very specific ideas on how their hermits should behave, demanding their potential hermits sign contracts stating that they weren't to speak, or to cut their hair or toenails. Others were more relaxed and invited their resident hermits to mingle with guests as a form of rustic entertainment.

So what do you think? Is there a spare garden shed in your yard? Why not be 19th century and install a hermit in it?

Three More Reasons Why

Happy birthday to us! Thanks so much for adding your comments on why you love the nineteenth century. Don’t forget, commenting or suggesting a new topic for us enters you to win a wonderful fashion plate or a $25 gift certificate to Barnes and Noble! We’ll draw the names when we get to our nineteenth reason why we love the nineteenth century in a couple weeks. So, here are some of my reasons why:

4. Marissa mentioned the gorgeous women’s clothes, but I love the sophisticated gentlemen’s clothes even more. (And no, it’s not because I’ve been known to masquerade as a dandy!) Those tailored jackets, the polished boots, the high-crowned beavers, all speak of prestige and power. And a man in a black cape, white shirt, and breeches still makes me swoon! The basic suit that developed in the nineteenth century is still the mark of a well-dressed man today. Though I wager none can swagger quite as well as Byron or Brummell.

5. The elegant equipages: There’s something fine about riding high, feeling the strength of very real horses pulling at the reins, knowing you control their motions with a flick of your wrist. You can keep your sports cars—give me a sleek barouche and set of prancing pairs any day of the week.

6. The imaginative architecture: From columns, clean lines, and crisp stone to fanciful
gingerbread, the nineteenth century saw its shifts in architectural vogue. There’s something solid, permanent, and impressive about the earlier styles, but I must admit to a fondness to the later ornamentation. It looks more feminine, kinder, sweeter to me, speaking of tea and cakes and Aunt Bess playing the pianoforte in the background. I can just see myself living here.

So, what are your favorite things?