An extraordinary daguerreotype..

A lady and her prayer. Daguerreotype, 1840's. Courtesy of Christopher Wahren Fine Photographs.

Victorian era leather merchant and tanners

Here we witness a leather merchant casting an eye over the goods, and tanners engaged in their daily business in Bermondsey, London, late 19th century.

C. 1890's Heywood/Wakefield settee. Divine.

Single seat wicker piece with handsome detailing, c. 1890's.

A little short in the lumbar support department, but it IS ever so handsome.

Rather handsome options to plant one's 19th century duff on, I must say. Daguerreian Dandy shall take one sightly piece for each room of the swish three-storey abode in Boston, and the addition of a extra member of staff for the dusting and general upkeep of these most agreeable pieces, thanking thee. Wicker furniture was absolutely, positively de rigueur in the latter segment of the 19th century, and was most certainly seen in modern homes in the early part of last century. An 1890's 'modern' might order a piece similar to these lovelies above from a catalogue to adorn her home with, thereby shunning the ye old Gothic Revival hulky pieces that harboured ghouls, goblins and arachnids aplenty that Grandma so delighted in furnishing her home with, so many moons ago. American companies, The Wakefield Rattan Company and the Heywood Brothers, united at the close of the century with two factories operating in Massachusetts, one in Illinois and another in California, along with a number of warehouses across the U.S and one in Liverpool, England. The unification of these two powerhouse companies offered consumers items of exceptional craftsmanship and incredible variety. Both companies, whether trading separately or after their merging, labelled their pieces unusually under the seat of the chairs; later Heywood/Wakefield examples will have a celluloid label identifying the manufacturer nailed to the item from the 1920's. Fancy feasting your eyes on a few more knockout wicker pieces (do we have time for a stately baby carriage too? I'd imagine so) in the near future? Daguerreian Dandy assures those pursuing this blog that we'll see more in two shakes of a lamb's tail...

19th century folk and their instruments...

Two fellas and an outrageous amount of coolness. Available for weddings, Christmas soirees, pub crawls and eccentric funerals. Daguerreotype, c.1850.

A gent, his violin and his Missus. Daguerreotype, around 1850. Image courtesy of Mirror Image Gallery.

A lady (of some means) and her instrument, courtesy of Dennis Waters Fine Dags. 

What a fellow! Just extraordinary. We thank Cowan's Auctions for this daguerreian gem. 

The age of steam.

Daguerreian Dandy is quite fond of steam trains, and especially keen on images of trains in action, entering tunnels, picking up passengers etc. Freud would have a field day, eh?

Fry's Advert.

Don't blame the little squirt, really. Late Victorian era Fry's advert.

'We were at the beach. Everybody had matching towels...' C. 1860 ambrotype.


Fancy a parade of 19th century musicians? They're a-coming...

John Everett Millais' 'Vanessa'.

'Vanessa' by Millais.


And who might this sullen-faced, raven-haired lady be, clad in such rich, sumptuous materials and embellishments? John Everett Millais, a British artist Daguerrian Dandy favours very much, produced this work,titled 'Vanessa' in 1868. Millais offers us a glimpse of, or rather his interpretation of, a lady whom Jonathan Swift (known to most modern folk as the author of 'Gulliver's Travels', he also employed himself in the task of political writing, poetry and marvellous wig-wearing. Swift is said to have been a rather witty, cheek old chap, making all sorts of outrageous, eccentric statements designed to ruffle feathers, garner chuckles and ignite social change) was writing back and forth to. Her birth name was Esther, though Swift referred to her as Vanessa. It seems there is no portrait or illustration in existence of Vanessa, therefore Millais can of course only offer his viewers his own idea of her. Vanessa, it seems from surviving records, was a little short in the looks department, though Millais has worked his magic here and awarded her a much more palatable visage. Swift ended up leaving his Vanessa for another lady, also by the name of Esther (this could be some sort of  late 17th/early 18th century soap opera). Suggestions have been made that Vanessa is in possession of Swift's 'Dear Jane' letter, so to speak. Uh oh....

A little Edwardian R & R. 

Daguerreian Dandy has unlocked the lower reaches of the curio cabinet and found, carelessly wedged betwixt a late 18th century taxidermy rodent named Cuthbert and Grandfather Dandy's (1779-1851, may his soul rest peacefully for all eternity, even if he was an irascible, parsimonious old sod that threatened your scribbler with a good lick of the old birch should Dandy ever put a foot out of line) smashing silver snuff box, this chipper little postcard of Edwardian leisure and gaiety. A crowd of mirthful spectators, 3 Grandmother's reaching for their vials of revival salts and one vigilant canine on a mission take stock of a woman and her young offspring, or perhaps charge, should she happen to be a governess or such, as they head down the slope in their little cart. Such fun and jubilation! Oh boy. One does wonder if anyone was afforded a quick peek of Ms. Edwardian's unmentionables on the way down...

Blonde bisque 'parian' head with black alice band. Made in Germany around the 1860's/70's or so. Image courtesy of The Museum of Play.

Isn't she dream? Daguerrian Dandy is quite a fervent collector of 19th century china and bisque head dolls, and this one makes me rather giddy. I'd best find the nearest chaise lounge and take a moment to remember myself.

Beauty of a bygone era...

A turn-of-the-century Brisbane beauty. 

Your good author is, much like this magnificent beast, Queensland born and reared. That is, Queensland, Australia. This architectural style may be unfamiliar with those outside of the country, but to Queensland residents, this is a common sight-although, it must be said, one that is slowly taking a back seat while modern, hideous structures continue to emerge.

You may find this divine old girl somewhere around the riverside area of New Farm, Brisbane-not too far, in the grand scheme of things, from your unpresuming  Daguerreian Dandy, in fact. Difficult to say whether she's had parts tacked on or altered at some point. To me, she looks pure Edwardian era. Federation style, Daguerreian Dandy believes. Ravishing, is she not?

A daguerreian heart-breaker indeed. My, my.

1850's daguerreotype, courtesy of The Library of Congress. This here fellow is why revival salts were invented.

If you wanted to pursue Sir Hot Stuff here, you'd do well to commence your search in 1850's middle class America. To assist you even further, I'd recommend journeying to the New England area and seeing how you fair. If you find this divine young fellow before me, give him a good pinch on the bum for me, will you? 

Ah, those saucy Victorians...

I say! Keep these ones out of the Missus' sight!

These cheeky items seem like something one would expect to see during the 'Naughty Nineties' (that is, the 1890's...and don't forget, all about the place, particularly in England and America, liberated ladies were on the move in their bloomer suits and hooning around on bicycles like nobody's business...oh my). Aren't they quite hilarious? But these spicy little novelty pieces, probably once found in a locked drawer in the library, often the sanctuary of the gent/s of the home following dinner, do actually serve a practical purpose too.

It's quite clear that the shapely striped pins to the left form part of a saucy little gentleman's corkscrew. This piece is German-produced, probably 1890's or so, and the legs are made of celluloid. These can, of course, be purchased new today from novelty/bar gift stores almost anywhere, though they're often rather shoddily made.

What about the two lovely feminine pins to our right? These objects were quite useful to the Victorian gent who revelled in a good puff of an evening, in his smart smoking attire and most agreeable chair. These are carved bone pipe tampers, probably a bit earlier than the highly conspicuous striped pins. A 19th century gent would use these tools to push and pack the tobacco down into the bowl, as it often tended to expand and move around while one was smoking, creating pockets of air which can result in the pipe going out.

The corkscrew image is courtesy of corkscrewsonline. Top right courtesy of kahnfineantiques.

Lady daguerreians of the 1850's...

Truly a gentlewoman of the 1850's. And how's that cheeky sparkle in her eyes?

Princess Leia Organa's Great Great. Just look at those delicate lace mitts...

Oooh-er. She's a bit of alright, this one. Image courtesy of Jack Mord.

A good long moment should be dedicated to admiring these 1850's daguerreian ladies and their scrumptious coiffs with much favour. I think I could gaze upon that outrageous lovely with the forked part and choker for all of eternity...

Victorian era stokers.

I was trying to think up a useless sailor or nautical-themed pun, but nothing came to mind. I'm sure it will schooner or later, though.

Pass the tea, bag. The subject of tea consuming in the 19th century...

Caddyshack.

Originating in China, tea was taken for medicinal and restorative purposes for an age before the British began daintily sipping it. Tea reached the U.K by way of Dutch and Portuguese traders around the 17th century. Catherine of Braganza, wife of Charles II, was noted as a great lover and advocate of tea drinking, and was at least partially responsible for bringing tea to the British court. 

Tea continued to be advertised as curing a number of ails, as well as generally keeping one in fine fettle and reviving energy levels. Prior to the Victorian era, tea could be purchased in trendy coffee houses, and eventually, tea began, at least for a period, to supersede alcoholic beverages in popularity. This naturally displeased the Government, who wished patrons of such establishments to be guzzling alcohol, the sales of which were the source of quite a lucrative income. So naturally, they imposed a heavy tax upon tea, and so, the tea smuggling industry was born; Scandanavian traders delivered tea to British shores, where it still proved rather costly and lots of dirty business went on-it was often laced with other bits and bobs to bulk it out, and some folk weren't opposed to using the leaves, adding them to fresh batches and selling them on.

Finally, the tax was abolished, and the nighttime business of tea smuggling abated. It's likely that merchants still sold on used, old leaves and bulked out their goods with goodness knows what, and so came the Food and Drug Act of 1875, where severe penalties were handed out to those found tampering with tea.

Are these tea caddies quite divine? Two examples are predate Victoria, but we won't let that bother us, because look how exquisitely made they are. The traditional caddies most know of today were borne out of the 18th century, were available in any number of shapes and designs and served the purpose of keeping one's tea safe from nosy, thieving household help (that's not to condemn all servants of pilfering through their Master or Mistresses goods) and retaining the freshness of the leaves.

Caddies (single, double and triple) were made of wood, tin, silver or wood veneered with tortoiseshell, horn, ivory, horn, papier mache, straw. The list of fancy finishes is ceaseless, as were the decorative techniques. Ladies of the upper crust often whittled away their time painstakingly decorating caddies, because why not? The beauty of these caddies, and the high level of craftsmanship attests to the importance of taking tea in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Mid-century daguerreotype, courtesy of the George Eastman Museum.

A little 19th century fellow in the most marvellous frock. Yes'm, that's a young chap.

The Daguerreian Dandy: The Hexagon House Hotel, Texas.

The Daguerreian Dandy: The Hexagon House Hotel, Texas.: House of 1000 gables. Another grand structure with a less than satisfactory conclusion...prepare thyselves.  In Mineral Wells, Texas, th...

The Hexagon House Hotel, Texas.

House of 1000 gables. Another grand structure with a less than satisfactory conclusion...prepare thyselves. 

In Mineral Wells, Texas, this here building, the Hexagon House Hotel, was completed and opened to the public in 1897. Owned by a Texan rancher with deep pockets who once owned almost 100,000 acres of property in Texas, the hotel boasted 4 stories and was a mighty popular rest stop for travelling folk and well known names. The Hexagon Hotel was designed to encourage maximum air flow throughout the 30 rooms, and was at one point the first hotel in Mineral Wells to have rooms lit by electricity. A 20th century article on the hotel once noted that it offered guests hexagon-shaped plates to eat their Texas cuisine from. Marvellous!

Over 50 years later, the hotel operators were beginning to struggle with the constant upkeep, and the number of patrons was starting to dwindle, though plenty of tourists and local folk came by to admire the impressive exterior. In 1959, the Hexagon House Hotel was demolished. The image below would likely have been taken in the early 1900's.