Augusta's Journey

Carolina Wester’s family at Loddby and the accident in August 1831

It is a beautiful, late-summer Sunday. The Wester family at Loddby has attended church and listened to Pastor Mobeck’s sermon about the importance of rest and of keeping the Sabbath. Now they are back at Loddby and that is what they are doing. At least the women, resting. The three young men have decided to go fishing. The matriarch, widow, and owner of Loddby, Carolina Wester, and her daughter Caroline are sitting in the sunny parlor downstairs.

Sofia Ulrich is upstairs with the younger girls: Ulla, Ida, and Lotten Wester. They are sitting by the window, talking. Through the trees, they can see the sun glitter on the bay and the small rowboat in the distance. Sofia can’t tell if it is Berndt or Carl or Markus who is rowing. They are too far out on the bay. Suddenly there seems to be some commotion in the boat – is someone standing up? Then things happen fast. For a split second, it looks like the boat is listing, and then, with horror, she realizes that the boat is capsizing.

Lotten Ulrich’s diary, 1 September 1831

“Today, we received very sad news, that little Markus Wester has drowned at his mother’s Loddby and that both Berndt Forsgrén and Ulla’s fiancé Hülphers almost drowned as well. Poor Tante Wester who has just lost a beloved son in such a horrible way, and poor Caroline! Imagine losing one’s brother and fear for one’s husband’s life, especially as she is still ill, for it has not even been two weeks since she gave birth at Loddby to a baby who died the following day, and such a more heartfelt loss as they have been married for 3 years without being able to have any children, something they really wanted.

Poor Ulla, who lost a brother and was close to have her fiancé perish. She was with her sisters, Ida and Lotten, and my aunt Sofia upstairs and saw from the windows the little rowing boat capsize. They hurried down and sent a boat to the rescue, but the distressed men were several hundred meters from the shore. Berndt was about to take his last breath when the boat reached them. Young Hülphers, who was swimming towards the shore carrying Markus on his back, was completely exhausted and when the help reached him, Markus was already dead in his arms. Because of all the water he had swallowed and the horror he had experienced, he had passed out and died.”

The Owners of Loddby

Augusta’s brother-in-law, Gustaf Lejdenfrost, bought Loddby from Caroline Wester in 1832 and Augusta moved to Loddby in 1835. Augusta lived at Loddby with her mother, brother, and Lejdenfrost until she married. But who were Caroline Wester and all the persons named in Lotten Ulrich’s diary? And who was Lotten Ulrich?

Lotten Ulrich’s Diary

Lotten Ulrich (1806-1887) and Edla Ulrich (1816-1897) lived at the Royal Palace in Stockholm where their father, Johan Christian Henrik Ulrich, was the secretary to King Carl XIV Johan. The two sisters’ diaries were published in Systrarnas Ulrichs dagböcker by Margareta Östman. When the king died in 1844, the family had to move to Norrköping (close to Loddby) and Augusta’s best friend in Stockholm, Lotten Westman, encouraged Augusta to get acquainted with the two sisters.

Geneology and Relationships – For those who are interested…

Sofia Vilhelmina Ulrich (1798-1866)

Who was Lotten Ulrich’s aunt Sofia Ulrich? She was indeed one of Lotten Ulrich’s father’s sisters (there were 9 children in the family). Sofia was born in Norrköping and in 1831, at the age of 33, she was living with the Ulrich family at Loddby. How was she acquainted with the Wester family? We don’t know.

Carolina Wester (1786-1875)

The matriarch, widow, and owner of Loddby, Carolina Wester, was born Heitmüller. In 1807, she married the 34-year-old widow, Markus Wester (1773-1820), who owned the ironworks at Molnebo. Together, they had 8 children.

Daniel Kristian (1808-1813)
Kristina Hedda Karolina ”Caroline” (1811-1891)
Karl Erik (1813-1864)
Lovisa Ulrika Maria ”Ulla” (1814-1886)
Aronina Arvida Gabriella ”Ida” (1815-1886)
Markusina Charlotta ”Lotten” (1816- 1839)
Markus (1817-1831)
Hjalmar (1819-1824)

Just a side note about names. I have never seen the names of Aronina and Markusina before. But just as the female versions of Christian, Carl, and Joseph are Christina, Carolina, and Josephina, I guess one can add “ina” to any male name – Aron and Markus become Aronina and Markusina.

Caroline Wester (1811-1891)

Kristina Hedda Karolina ”Caroline” was the oldest daughter in the family. In 1829, she married Berndt Gustaf Forsgrén (1799-1888) who was a silk and clothing merchant in Stockholm. His store was located at the excellent address of Stortorget 1 in the Old Town, right across from the bourse. In the summer of 1831, Caroline must have stayed with her mother at Loddby for the birth of her first child. And now she had lost both her baby and her brother. It could have been even worse. She could have lost her husband too in the boating accident.

So how did life turn out for Caroline and Berndt? According to the census records in Stockholm, the couple had 9 children and, in 1845, the family lived at Stora Nygatan 22. Berndt Forsgrén was very successful and became extremely wealthy. One of their daughters, Carolina Elisabet, married Erik Swartz (b. 1817), and their son, Carl Swartz, became Sweden’s prime minister in 1917.

Berndt Forsgrén also had a successful brother, merchant Carl Robert Forsgrén (1797-1853). He married Sofia Ulrich’s younger sister, Anna Eleonora Lowisa (1805-1853) in 1826. Their granddaughter was Anna Whitlock, a famous woman’s right advocate and suffragette who founded a modern school for girls in 1878.

Ulla Wester (1814-1886)

Lovisa Ulrika Maria ”Ulla” was 17 years old in the summer of 1831. She was engaged to textile dyer Carl Abraham Hülphers (1806-1860), the young man who tried to rescue Markus Wester. Ulla and Carl married in 1833 and had one daughter, Sofia Karolina Lovisa (1835-1885). Sofia married Johan Gustaf Swartz (1819-1885) in 1854.

Interestingly, the daughters of the two sisters, Caroline and Ulla Wester, married the two brothers Swartz (Erik and Johan).

Ida Wester (1815-1886)

Aronina Arvida Gabriella ”Ida” married Frans Adam Björling (1801-1869) in 1842. It was his second marriage. Ida did not have any children but she was a stepmother to her husband’s son, Carl August Theodor. The family owned and lived at Slagsta, an estate south of Stockholm.

Lotten Wester (1816- 1839)

Markusina Charlotta ”Lotten”, the youngest daughter in the family, had a short life. She did not marry and died in Norrköping at the age of 22 from dysentery (Swedish: rödsot).

The image of the 3 men in a rowboat is from a larger painting by Josefina Holmlund (b. 1827):

https://digitaltmuseum.se/021046500729/roddtur-pa-fjorden/media?slide=0

Tableau Vivant and Olof Södermark

Last week, Kerstin shared the travel diary of 10-year old Ernst Salomon. In the summer of 1841, Ernst and his family were visiting Särö, a fashionable spa on the Swedish west coast. In his diary, he describes the activities at the spa. Besides the bathing, they went for walks, picked seashells, and went horseback riding. In the evenings, the guests took turns hosting dinners and entertainment. There was usually a program of music and singing or dancing. They also played parlor games. One of those was Tableau Vivant. This was a common parlor game in the 1800s and is described in several diaries and letters from this time.

Tableau Vivant

Tableau Vivant was something like Charades. In Charades, a person will silently act out a word for the other persons to guess. In Tableau Vivant, the actor/actors will stage a scene from a play or a book or a poem or of a famous painting. The audience then has to figure out what the scene depicts.

Rosalie Roos, who was born in Sweden in 1823 and traveled to the USA in 1851 to become a governess, describes in her memoir how she introduced this game to the family she worked for and how much fun they had in searching for costumes and props to create the tableaux vivants.

The Tableau Vivant at Särö in 1841

Back to Ernst Salomon and his diary. On the 5^th of August, Ernst wrote:

“Beautiful weather. In the evening, Baroness Berzelius, Mrs. Edholm, and Countess Virsén hosted le goûter (the tasting; dinner). Between the dances, 6 tableaux vivants were performed that were pretty successful. They were:

A Scene from Lalla Rookh

Candlelight by Rembrandt

Pastoral Concert by Södermark

Fortuneteller scene by Teniers

A Scene from The Pirate by Walter Scott

Saint Cecilia by Carlo Dolci

The 6^th one featured spiritual singing behind the curtains.”

First, I was amazed at the choices for this quiz-type game. If you belonged to the class who visited this spa, these were the authors and painters you were supposed to be familiar with. And even 10-year-old Ernst thought the game was a success.

I decided to find the images that they were supposed to stage. Here it goes:

1. A Scene from Lalla Rookh

Lalla Rookh was a very long poem written by Thomas Moore in 1817. It was a romantic, orientalist tale about a Mughal princess. The poem was very popular in the early 1800s.

2. Candlelight by Rembrandt

I assume that this could have been Rembrandt’s painting of a student at a table by candlelight

Student at a Table by Candlelight. Rembrandt, 1642.

3. Pastoral Concert by Södermark

Let’s skip this one to the last.

4. Fortune-teller Scene by Teniers

David Teniers the Younger painted a lot of fortune-teller scenes, but they were all similar.

Mountain Landscape with a Gypsy Fortuneteller. David Teniers II. 1644-1690.

4. A Scene from The Pirate by Walter Scott

Walter Scott wrote The Pirate in 1822. It was translated to Swedish in 1827. I should probably add it to my reading list.

The Pirate. Illustration from the 1879 edition.

5. Saint Cecilia by Carlo Dolci

Saint Cecilia at the Organ. Carlo Dolci, 1671.

3. Pastoral Concert by Södermark

So let me return to Number 3, Pastoral Concert (Swedish: Landtlig Concert) av Olof Södermark.

Olof Södermark was a fantastic Swedish portrait painter. He had painted members of the royal family, and he was in high demand by the Swedish elite. He had also studied with the premier portraiture painter in Europe, Franz Xaver Winterhalter. In the fall of 1841, he would return to Sweden from Rome and settle down to do portraits. Within the next two years (1842-1843), he would actually paint the husbands of two of the women who had hosted the dinner and the tableau vivant. Baroness Berzelius’s husband was the famous chemist, Jöns Jacob Berzelius and Mrs. Edholm’s husband was Erik af Edholm, the king’s private doctor.

Jöns Jacob Berzelius painted by Olof Södermark 1843

Erik af Edholm painted by Södermark 1842

But did Södermark also paint landscapes and other genres? The problem with Södermark is that only a few of his paintings are in museums or other public places – portraits like those of the royal family or of famous people like Jenny Lind. To find his other works, one has to look for what has been sold at auctions.

The only “landscape” painting I have found is Fishing on the Pier (Swedish: Fiske på bryggan), painted in 1838. I would love to learn about the history of this painting. Who are the people in the painting?

Fishing on the Pier. Painting by Olof Södermark 1838

I am sure he also painted “A Pastoral Concert”, but how would I search for it? Google is of no help. I decide to search for Södermark in Swedish newspapers between 1832 and 1838. Maybe someone would have written about the painting?

Bingo! A journalist (Orvar Odd) at Aftonbladet wrote about the paintings exhibited at the Salon of The Royal Swedish Academy of Fine Arts in 1838. Södermark had 3 paintings accepted.

“Mr. Södermark is exhibiting 3 paintings; two portraits and a genre painting showing three children, the oldest being a girl playing the mandolin, the next one playing castanets, and the youngest, a boy with curly hair, using all his strength blowing into a bagpipe. It is a charming piece, this last one. The shapes and the colors are so southern European and opulent, full and glowing, it’s alive, it’s vibrant! Mr. S. undoubtedly possesses, to a greater degree than any of our other painters in his genre, the art of making his characters come alive.”

This has to be “A Pastoral Concert” and as he painted it in Rome, the scene is probably from Italy. I do wish I could still find an image of the painting. I did find another small painting he did in Rome – a sweet painting of two Italian girls.

Going back to the Tableaux Vivants, I wish someone could have described how they staged these six scenes. Maybe they were common scenes for this form of entertainment – pretty easy to stage: An exotic princess, a student with a candle, 3 children playing some instruments, a fortune-teller, a pirate, and a saint. I wonder what paintings or books or films we would pick today for this game?

Die Malerweg

There are some entries in Augusta’s diary from 1847 that made an unforgettable impression on me as a teenager:

“At 5 o’clock in the morning, we started our walk in the loveliest surroundings up to Kuhstall, three hours from Schandau. Through a vaulted gateway, which nature itself has formed, one arrives on a terrace where the view is like the most inviting and, at the same time, wild painting”.

“Describing what we saw here would be in vain, and it would be an ungrateful effort to paint the landscapes with pencil and ink.”

Bad Schandau

When I was a teenager, I wondered about this place and what it looked like. I dreamt about one day being able to go there.

Bad Schandau is a small town on the shore of the river Elbe in eastern Germany, close to the border with the Czech Republic. It is also the gateway to the famous Saxon Switzerland National Park with its famous Elbe Sandstone Mountains. This area became famous in the late 1700s and early 1800s through the early landscape painters who were drawn to the rugged and dramatic mountains. The landscape was well suited for the European Romantic era.

Bad Schandau was also a popular spa town and many Swedes visited this area in the 1800s and described it in their diaries.

Kuhstall

In 2017, my teenage dream came true. Kerstin and I had spent almost a year planning for a trip in Augusta’s footsteps and on a misty day in October, we were hiking up to Kuhstall. In my own diary from this day, I wrote:

“We are coming out of the dense forest and suddenly we see the huge opening in the cliff – the vaulted gateway. It feels like we have been inside a cave and see the sky through the cave’s opening. At this exact moment, the sun breaks through the clouds and through the opening, the light is blinding. All the mist in the valley below flow like heavy smoke on a theatre stage, as if on purpose to create extra drama.”

Kerstin above the Sea of Fog (or Hold on to your hat!, Sara Azzam, 2020)

The Malerweg

At Kuhstall, we realized that this site was just one of several stops on what is called die Malerweg (the Painter’s Trail), a historic route the landscape painters took when traveling from Dresden to Saxon Switzerland. Today it is a popular hiking trail.

Of course, Kerstin and I didn’t bring our art materials with us, but we took a lot of photos. And several of those are included in Kerstin’s beautiful book, Augustas resa.

Elbe River

Besides hiking the Malerweg, one can also take a steamer on the Elbe to get to some of the other stops where artists painted the landscape.

Two Swedish travelers wrote about their journey on the Elbe. They also tried to explain in words what an artist would have tried to paint.

Wilhelm Von Braun, 1844:

“To paint a landscape with pen and ink is an ungrateful effort. Therefore, I am pleased to mention only Bastei, a 470 foot tall and 6 foot wide, over the Elbe protruding rock, from which on my journey back to Dresden I enjoyed the most divine view. From our view, the Elbe flows through fertile fields and meadows, while an array of hills and mountains are visible in the distance, and of which Königstein and Lilienstein tower over all the others.”

Sophie von Knorring, 1846:

“A place we passed at the beginning of our trip was called Bastei and it is both the most beautiful and strangest sight. Here the cliffs are completely bizarre: they emerge in shapes that one cannot even imagine and which are unexplainable to the viewer, and above all this hang lush green trees.

No – now I finish my description: cliffs, mountains, hanging greenery, vineyards, fortress ruins, inviting towns, cozy villages, dark-blue high sky, and sunshine that could awaken the dead! Oh dear, what is all this on paper? – Words and only words, but in reality, it is heaven on earth! – Enough about this.”

Morning on the Elbe – View towards the Bastei (Kerstin Melin, 2020)

Bastei Bridge

Bastei Bridge is one of the most spectacular sites in the region. The bridge, which connects several sandstone formations, is visible from the river. It is also a hiking destination and the panoramic view from the bridge is breathtaking.

Augusta wrote the following in her diary in 1847:

“Now we started to walk higher and higher uphill until we found ourselves at the highest altitude of the Bastei. Here was an inn where we took some refreshments and then we were shown the way to the cliff where we got to see the famous view. And here I stood, mute with admiration and amazement; all the splendor I had seen before was nothing compared with this beautiful, living painting.

The whole rock juts out high above the Elbe. Straight ahead of me, I saw – deep under my feet – large forests, high mountains, towns, and villages as far away as the horizon, where the Bohemian mountains, appearing like tall foggy shapes, raised their heads towards the sky.

It is not even possible to describe the simplest view of Saxon Switzerland; everything is so magnificent, so beautiful, so incomprehensible that one does not think it is anything but the most pleasant, most enchanting dream.”

Kerstin and I were also stunned by the beautiful view from the Bastei and this is what I wrote in my diary:

“After many stops, to catch our breaths and take pictures, Kerstin and I have finally reached the first cliff that will give us a scenic view of the Elbe and beyond. The panoramic view is stunning. In the far distance, a small paddle steamer is making its way down the Elbe.

Kerstin and I walk up the next flight of stairs, carved out of the rock, and there it is – the famous bridge! It is a little dizzying to walk across the bridge. Once across, the path continues to a viewing platform on the right. This is even more dizzying! But what a view! This is the view depicted in all old oil paintings and etchings. This one I have to paint – in a large scale!”

The Bastei Bridge (Sara Azzam, 2020)

Now, three years later, I have finally had time to paint some of the sites from the Malerweg. It brings back wonderful memories of our journey. And I hope I will someday be able to be back in Saxon Switzerland.

Some famous paintings from the Malerweg

Wanderer above the sea of fog (Caspar David Friedrich, 1818).

Kuhstall in Saxon Switzerland (Adrian Zingg, 1786)

The new wooden bridge in 1826. (Christian Gottlob Hammer, 1779-1864)

View from the Bastei (Johan Christian Dahl, 1788 – 1857)

Titus Vincentius Röslein and Lotten Ulrich’s fencing lessons

Last summer, I wrote about Augusta’s first love.

In the summer of 1845, Augusta turned 18. She had just finished her schooling in Stockholm and maybe her mother Anna thought it was time for her to meet a suitable young man. Why not at the most fashionable seaside resort on the Swedish west coast, Gustafsberg?

Well, did Augusta meet someone at Gustafsberg? Yes, she did fall in love but with someone not to her mother’s liking. At least, that is what comes across in the correspondence between Augusta and her best friend Lotten Westman. Who was he? Augusta and Lotten never mention him by name.

A couple of weeks ago, I found an 1845 newspaper announcement listing the guests who had arrived at Gustafsberg’s Spa at the same time as Augusta. I have been searching for some of those guests – maybe finding Augusta’s first love. Last week’s blog entry was about the family Salomon who arrived with two daughters and a son. Unfortunately, the son turned out to be only 14 years old.

This week, I decided to look up a Secretary T. Röslein from Stockholm.

Titus Vincentius Röslein

This time, I started my search for T. Röslein in the contemporary diary of Marie-Louise Forsell. And of course, Marie-Lousie knew him. His full name was Titus Vincentius. What a name!

Marie-Louise first mentioned meeting him and his sister Pellan at a dance hosted by Chamberlain Carl Henning Lützow d’Unker on 4 November 1845. Then, a month later, she invited the d’Unkers and four gentlemen to her home to celebrate Mrs. d’Unker’s birthday. But in addition to the guests, “the rather nice Titus Röslein came by himself.”

So now I knew that he was a rather nice guy and had a sister, Pellan. It was time to search the archives.

What I found in the archives

Titus was the only son of krigsrådet (royal military counsel) Carl Henric Röslein (4 March 1774 – 27 October 1840) and his wife Maria Charlotta Ericsson (8 Nov 1788 – 28 April 1877). Carl Henric was wealthy and had spent more than 20 years in England, Germany, and France in business and trade before, in 1814, he was hired by the Swedish crown prince, Carl Johan Bernadotte, in the prince’s private office.

The Röslein family lived close to the royal palace in Stockholm but spent the summers 1820-1829 at the bucolic Djurgården, at a house named Ludvigsro. In 1852, Ludvigsro was bought by Wilhelm Davidson, who renamed it Hasselbacken and opened a restaurant there. Kerstin has previously written about Davidson.

The siblings with the coolest names

But Titus was not the only child. There were 3 children born to Carl Henric and Maria Charlotta. And they were all given fantastic names:

Titus Vincentius (4 Jan 1824 – 19 April 1855)
Leontina Ebba Charlotta (? April 1825 – 22 May 1826)
Peregrina Maria Petronella (“Pellan”) (16 May 1828 – 15 June 1859)

Sadly, all children died early in life. Titus and Pellan both died at age 31 from tuberculosis while the cause of death was not specified in the church record for Leontina – only that she was 11 months old. They all belonged to Klara parish.

There are no digitized portraits of the children and the only thing we know of Titus was that he was nice and that he was a secretary at the central bank (Rikets Ständers Bank). Oh, and he was inducted into the Order of the Innocence in January of 1847. Augusta had already been a member since 1844. Being a member allowed one to attend the most prestigious balls in Stockholm. So at least, by the age of 23, Titus became a member.

Titus Rösling’s signature on the ledger for the new members of the Order of the Innocence in January 1847 (last row).

Could Titus have been Augusta’s first love?

Pros:

In the summer of 1845, Titus was 21 years old and Augusta was 18
He was from a very wealthy family in Stockholm
He belonged to the social elite in Stockholm
He was nice

Possible Cons (in the eyes of Augusta’s family): Who knows? Maybe Titus’ father had been too controversial which could have affected the family name? A lot was written about him after his death in 1840, and there is a rather interesting biography of him in the national archives (in Swedish).

Carl Henric Röslein, miniature by J A Gillberg

Titus’ Father

Despite all the controversies about Titus’ father, there is a rather sweet entry about him in another contemporary diary. Augusta’s acquaintance, Lotten Ulrich – whose father was the king’s private secretary and therefore also worked with Titus’ father – wrote the following in her diary in March of 1831:

“Alb. Åmansson said that when she visited us a couple of years ago, I was dressed to fence, that is, in a riding coat and green bombazine pants, holding the foil and in the en garde position, because I was going to have a fencing lesson, which I had every day with krigsrådet Röslein. Oh, how fun these lessons were! He always made me laugh out loud, even though the positions and the lunge etc. were so grueling that I could hardly move after the lessons.”

Lotten Ulrich’s Fencing Attire

I have searched for paintings or illustration of girls fencing in the 1820s but found little and then only from the late 1800s. Those pictures show women fencing in skirts. Maybe Lotten Ulrich was just lucky that Carl Henric Röslein was interested in teaching her fencing. How common was that in the 1820s?

And then, how did they decide on the appropriate attire for a girl? What did a “riding coat” look like?

A riding coat, or a bonjour, was simply a short jacket suitable for riding (see picture below).

And the bombazine pants?

They were probably knee-breeches, like those men wore when fencing, but made of bombazine fabric.

And since I didn’t find any pictures, I made an illustration of how I think Lotten Ulrich might have looked during her lesson.

References:

Östman, Margareta. 2015. Systrarna Ulrichs dagböcker – från Stockholms slott, Djurgården och landsorten 1830-1855. Stockholm: Carlssons. (Translation of title: The Ulrich Sisters’ Diaries – from Stockholm’s Palace, Djurgården, and the Countryside 1830-1855).

Heijkenskjöld, Syster, ed. 1915. Sällskapslif och hemlif i Stockholm på 1840-talet: ur Marie-Louise Forsells dagboksanteckningar. Stockholm: Bonnier. (Translation of title: Social Life and Home Life in Stockholm in the 1840s: From Marie-Louise Forsell’s Diary Notes).

In Search of Sophia Charlotta Salomon and her Family

Last week, I was reading the Swedish newspaper, Bohusläns Tidning, from 1845 and found an announcement listing the guests who had arrived at Gustafsberg’s Spa. The list included Augusta, her mother, and her brother. I got curious about the other spa guests. What could I find out about them?

I decided to start with what seemed to be an important family, the family of Krigsrådet Carl Jacob Salomon (A krigsråd was one of four civilian members of the Royal War Council. The other three members of the council were military leaders). Carl Jacob was not visiting the spa, only his wife and their two daughters and a son.

I assumed that it would not be difficult to find out more about this family. But it was!

Google was of no use. I didn’t even find the krigsråd himself! And Salomon is a very common name, both as a first name and as a surname.

Then I searched on free genealogy sites and in some books of important Swedish families and found only limited information.

I decided to get serious and turned to the census records of Stockholm for 1845. There I found the whole family with names and birth dates and an address: Regeringsgatan 38. That is where the famous department store NK is now located.

Husband: Carl Jacob Salomon, born 9 December 1784
Wife: Ulrica Sophia von Seltzen, born 24 April 1802
Daughter: Charlotta, born 28 January 1827
Daughter: Hilda Jaquette, born 7 June 1828
Son: Ernst Carl Victor, born 13 May 1831

Now that I had names and birth dates, the search got easier.

Hilda Jaquette

Next, I turned to published contemporary diaries – those of Marie-Louise Forsell and Lotten Ulrich. They were both well-connected in Stockholm and both mentioned meeting up with the Salomon family.

“Maybe Carl has already told the news that our old dancer, the honorable man Wrangel at The Artillery, is engaged to the youngest Miss Salomon.” (Sällskapslif och hemlif i Stockholm på 1840-talet: Ur Marie-Louise Forsells dagboksanteckningar).

Jaquette married Count Tönnes Wrangel in 1848 and lived a long life and had 4 children.

Ernst Carl Victor

Ernst was even easier to find. He even had his own Wikipedia page. He became a medical doctor and specialized in psychiatry. He also married and lived a long life.

Sophia Charlotta

The only thing I could find about Charlotta was that she had died in 1856. Or at least, that is what two sources stated. I checked the church records for the Jacob parish in Stockholm, but there was no record of her having died in 1856. I searched the digitized newspapers for 1856 and there was no obituary either. I was running out of creative ways of finding her. Had she moved?

Yes, had they moved?

I realized that there was an online digitized card catalog of property deeds in Stockholm between 1675 and 1875!

Using the information from the census records, I started flipping through the cards until I got to Salomon’s address. Carl Jacob Salomon had bought the house in 1827. Then, every time someone in the Salomon family died, there was an inheritance record regarding the change of ownership of the house. The first one was when his wife died in 1846. Then he himself died in 1850 and, finally, Charlotta’s death was recorded as the 3^rd of October 1855. At that time, Jaquette and her husband Tönnes bought the remaining share from brother Ernst.

I never knew that this archive existed or how useful it could be!

So Sophia Charlotta died in 1855 and not in 1856 as reported. Now I could find her death in the church records – she died from tuberculosis, just like our Augusta, at age 28. And I also found her obituary in the paper. She died at Harfva Gård in Ed parish northwest of Stockholm.

Carl Jacob and his wife Ulrica Sophia

Likewise, I could now find mother Ulrica Sophia’s death in the church records. She died at age 44 on 4 July 1846 from edema. Her passing was also mentioned in the daily newspapers.

The death of Carl Jacob at age 65 on 6 February 1850 was announced in the papers but for some unknown reasons, there was no church record of his death in Jacob’s parish. Did he possibly belong to some other parish?

Portraits

So what else could I find? What about portraits of the family members? In the 1840s, it was popular to have the artist Maria Röhl sketch you. Did the Salomon family commission her to sketch them? I searched on the Swedish Royal Library’s website and sure enough, found them all in 1847. That was the year after the mother had died.

Carl Jacob Salomon 1784-1850. Drawing by Maria Röhl 1847.

Charlotta Salomon (1827-1855) and Ernst Salomon (1831-1880) . Drawing by Maria Röhl 1847.

Jaquette Salomon (Jaquette Wrangel) (1828-1911) Drawing by Maria Röhl 1847.

And then, Google just decided to surprise me. I don’t know what I searched on, but there it was – a daguerreotype of the family taken in the interior yard of their house with a sheet hanging as a backdrop. The picture must have been taken in 1848 or 1849 as Hilda’s husband Tönnes is included (they married in 1848) and before 1850 when the father died.

Daguerreotype of family Salomon, 1848 or 1849, sold at auction.

Family Salomon, 1848 or 1849. Front row: Charlotte, Carl Jacob, Jaquette. Back row: Ernst and Tönnes.

Gustafsberg in 1845

In the summer of 1845, when the family was arriving at Gustafsberg, were they excited to spend some time socializing at this fashionable spa resort? Were the girls curious about meeting young men that might be suitable spouses? Or was their mother, Ulrica Sophia, already sick and hoped that drinking water at the spa would help restore her health? Was Charlotta, who was the same age as Augusta, already ill with tuberculosis?

Unfortunately, Augusta had not started keeping a diary yet so we don’t know if she already knew the Salomon girls from Stockholm and if they socialized at Gustafsberg. The only correspondence we have, where she alludes to the stay at Gustafsberg, is a letter to her best friend Lotten about a young man she met and fell in love with. Nothing came of it, but it would be fun to know who he was.

Ernst Salomon can be easily be written off, he was only 14 years old.

The Victorian Zoom Room

In our family, we now have a “Zoom Room”. We have always Skyped with family members and had professional conference calls using a variety of platforms. Now, with the coronavirus pandemic, Zoom has become the popular way to connect. And with Zoom, one needs a room with the right lighting and some decent background. No more kitchen table conference calls with family members walking in the background.

TV hosts and their guests have also started to broadcast from home and it is interesting to study their choice of backgrounds – bookcases and artwork and portraits of family members.

So how would one decide what to have in the background and what would it signal?

Bohuslän’s Newspaper

Last night I was reading a Swedish newspaper, Bohusläns Tidning, from 1845. I had searched on Augusta’s family name and found an announcement in this paper that Augusta’s family had arrived at Gustafsberg’s Spa. In itself, it was a fascinating find and I will continue to follow that thread. But what else did the paper cover that day?

Well, there was a ball to be held at the spa the forthcoming Sunday and the tickets could be purchased at Anton Ahlbom’s for 24 skilling banco.

And Carolina Charlotta Bruhn was advertising her café where she served tea, coffee, and lemonade daily. One could also order all kinds of baked goods and especially the not-so-well-known meringues with rose-, punch-, vanilla-, or chocolate flavoring. Not to mention, ice-creams!

The Real Gentleman

And then, Hallman’s Book & Music store listed the arrival of the latest prints, musical notes, and books. There were prints of the Swedish opera singer, Jenny Lind, and pianoforte notes for a selection of songs from the opera La fille du régiment by the Italian composer Gaetano Donizetti.

And what about the books? The book with the most interesting title was The Real Gentleman, or Principles and Rules for Decorum and a Keen Sense under Special Conditions of Social Life. The actual title, once I found this book online, had the additional subtitle: A Tutorial for Young Men to make them liked in Society and by the Opposite Sex. The book was originally written in German by Professor J. G. Wenzel and now translated to Swedish.

This book is a gem for anyone who wants to understand the societal rules of the mid-1800s. I scanned the topics: The Beauty of the Body, The Gaze and the Countenance, Body Positions and Movements, and so on. Then it got to a very interesting chapter: Furnishing of the “Reception Room”.

Furnishing of the Reception Room

During Victorian times, visitations were important and visitors would be received in the reception room (or drawing room, or parlour, depending on the regional differences in naming this room). According to the author, the furnishing of the reception room was of utmost importance if you wanted to be liked in Society and by the opposite sex!

And these were the important considerations for furnishing the reception room:

“…Everything here should betray a purified taste as well as knowledge of the world and times. Paintings, household utensils, and ornaments must make it clear to the visitor that he is in a house where understanding, taste, and fine customs abide.

…This room, designed for the reception of strangers, should be suitably furnished so that neither cabinets, dining tables, desk, dressers, toilet mirrors, nor beds are visible. Chandeliers or lamps, game tables, ottomans, divans, sofas, canopies, or so-called bouncer, etc., are the things that belong in a reception room…

…Well-polished tables and chairs of mahogany or good native tree species and in a modern style make a favorable impression.

…If there are several wide walls in the room, then it is necessary, between the chairs, to set appropriate tables with a vase, a clock, a beautiful alabaster figure, etc. To decorate the tables in the reception room with glass, porcelain, or other everyday objects is of low taste, even as it has often been fashionable.

…If one wants to hang paintings or etchings in the reception room, then they should be made by a master artist and have a suitable subject. Naked figures are obscene, even if they were made by the greatest master. Family portraits, mostly of the present owners, also do not fit in the reception room. One should not want to place one’s dear self everywhere.

Finally, it is obvious that the room should be tidy and free of dust.

Furnishing of the Zoom Room

Today’s Zoom Room is what the Victorian Reception Room was, a room where you will meet your friends, discuss, debate, and share stories. So what can one learn from The Real Gentlemen’s principles and rules? What should be the background in your room when you greet your visitors on Zoom?

The room should be suitably furnished so that dressers, toilet mirrors, and beds are not visible.
Everything should betray a purified taste as well as knowledge of the world and times.
If one wants to hang paintings, they should be made by master artists.
No paintings of nudes even if they were made by the greatest master!
No family portraits.
Keep it tidy, and no dust!

What about bookshelves? It seems to be popular today. Did the gentlemen of Victorian times not read a lot?

I am sure the author would have suggested a bookshelf if the books betrayed a purified taste and knowledge of the world and the times, if there were no nudes on the dust jackets, and if there were no dust on the shelves.

How to make a parasol

In June last year, Kerstin and I were busy making 1850s swimwear for our summer sejour on the Swedish west coast. We tested that we could actually swim in the knee-long dresses and wide-legged pants without getting tangled in all the fabric. It was fine. Once I overcame the shock of the cold seawater and started swimming, I felt like a jelly-fish with the fabric floating all around.

The other important project was to make new parasols. In the past, we had used pretty, lace parasols imported from China. Kerstin had also made one before our first journey on Göta Canal.

But from fashion plates, we realized that these wide and flat parasols were not the kind that was used in the 1850s.

A friend of ours had also given us two antique silk parasols from the late-1800s. They were so pretty but also very delicate and fragile. What we needed were some new parasols that we could actually use on our travels.

We used the antique parasols at Torekällberget in June 2018 and 2019

The parasols of the mid-1800s were very small. They were actually the size of umbrellas that you can buy for kids. Also, the handles were much thinner than those of today’s umbrellas and they looked like they were going through the fabric, sticking out almost 4 inches at the top.

We studied the two antique parasols we had to see how they were constructed.

Kerstin and I kept our eyes open for material that we could use to make our own parasols. One day, I found cheap plastic kid-umbrellas that would be perfect.

We bought several, removed the plastic, and cut off the handle (Figure 2). But what could we use for a new handle? I looked for sticks and pipes and anything that would have the right dimensions. The first thing I found was an old TV antenna that had fallen down from our cottage’s roof (Figure 3). It was perfect. I cut it to the right length and figured out a way to connect it to the child umbrella (Figure 4). But what about the top part (the cap in Figure 6)? I needed a small pipe and looked around the house. Found it! The pipe that is part of a gaslighter (Figure 5) had the perfect dimension.

So this was my first attempt to make a parasol. I decided to make it in a cheap, thin, cotton fabric. I had some antique lace and bought some silk tassel. I also covered the handle with fabric.

My next parasol was going to be in silk fabric. Kerstin was also going to make one. We had already bought the child umbrellas, but we had no more TV antennas!

Back to square one.

We decided to go to Brisak, a store that has everything from clothes and outdoor furniture to kitchenware and kids’ toys. It was at Brisak I had found the child umbrellas. This time we were looking for some pipe or rod or stick that could be used for a handle.

We didn’t get far into the store before Kerstin headed to the isle of fishing gear. Maybe a fishing rod would work?

“Look!” she exclaimed. “I bet that will work!”

She had found a box full of kids’ fishing nets with telescopic pole handles. They were perfect! (Figure 1). They came in blue or hot pink, which didn’t matter as all we needed was the telescopic handle (of course, I still bought pink ones and Kerstin bought blue).

Back home, we started making our silk parasols. This time I paid more attention to the details of the antique parasols, for example, how the inside was also covered in silk fabric to hide all the metal parts. I used some ribbons from an Indian pillow and lace from a thrift store dress.

Kerstin made a beautiful blue one.

Satisfied with the results, we were now ready for our summer sejour on the west coast.

Breakfast in Lübeck, 1847 and 2017

Kerstin at the breakfast buffet at Hotel Anno 1216.
(watercolor, Sara Azzam, 2020)

Lübeck, October 2017

Dressed in the fashion of 1847, Kerstin and I enter the breakfast parlor at Hotel Anno 1216. The early morning sun lights up the room. The décor of the room is exquisite. The table settings are elegant and on each table is a fresh cut tea rose.

We get a warm welcome from the staff who shows us to our table and asks for our preferences regarding coffee. Kerstin has ordered a continental breakfast. There are no vegan choices here, so I will just pick a few grapes and orange slices off her plate and pair it with my emergency protein bar.

Through the old, large windows we can see the sunlit brick wall of a building across the street. It was at this location that the wool merchant, AP Rehder, and his family lived in 1847. And it was the Rehder family who hosted Augusta and her mother on their first visit to Germany. Augusta might have been sitting in their breakfast room looking at the house where we are now sitting. And interestingly, a few years later, AP Rehder bought the house which is now or hotel, Hotel Anno 1216.

Kerstin helps herself to juice that is available on an antique buffé table. The scene looks like a painting. Kerstin, dressed in a dark blue dress adorned with a lace collar and with her hair tied in a bun, is poring sunlit orange juice from a crystal glass carafe. I make a mental note to paint the scene when we get home from our journey.

As Kerstin is enjoying her continental breakfast (and I am picking the garnish off her plate), we wonder what type of breakfast Augusta would have had in the Rehder’s breakfast room across the street. What did they eat for breakfast in Lübeck in 1847?

The Family of Mr. Westfal in the Conservatory. Painting by Eduard Gaertner, 1836. Breakfast in the conservatory owned by the prosperous Berlin wool merchant Christian Carl Westphal, who was also a passionate horticulturist. (The Met)

The Buddenbrook Breakfast

The Nobel Prize winner, Thomas Mann, described in his novel, Buddenbrooks – a novel about a wealthy merchant family in Lübeck – what Tony, the teenage daughter had for breakfast in 1846:

Tony came down at nine o’clock and found her father and mother still at the table. She let her forehead be kissed and sat down, fresh and hungry, her eyes still red with sleep, and helped herself to sugar, butter, and herb cheese.

“How nice to find you still here, for once, Papa,” she said as she held her egg in her napkin and opened it with her spoon.

…

Tony, her mouth full of bread and butter, looked first at her father and then her mother, with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

“Eat your breakfast, my child,” said the Frau Consul. But Tony laid down her knife and cried, “Out with it quickly, Papa – please.” Her father only answered: “Eat up your breakfast first.”

So Tony drank her coffee and ate her egg and bread and cheese silently, her appetite quite gone.

Breakfast seems hardly to have changed in the last 160 years – coffee, bread, butter, cheese, eggs…

But did they have grapes and orange slices for garnish? Probably not. Happy we got some.

The Silkworms at Bellevue

Bellevue in 1856. Oil painting by Erik Westerling (1819-1857).

May God Preserve our Silk Worms

Father told us last Monday when he was here, that the kind pastor, Mr. Lindström, who my sister and I have recently been acquainted with, had visited father at the palace that same day in order to ask if he could give us some silkworms that he couldn’t keep as he will spend the summer in Uppsala. Father had been kind to answer and thank him on our behalf, whereupon Mr. Lindstrom had promised to send them to us in a few days. Imagine our joy in owning these insects and being able to study their interesting transformations. May God preserve them for us because cultivating them requires special care of which none of us have any knowledge. (Lotten Ulrich’s diary, Stockholm, 31 May 1833, my translation)

Imagine my surprise when I approached the carton with the silkworms and only saw the two small, and instead of the two large worms, two cocoons of yellow silk. I immediately understood that they had started to spin. (Lotten Ulrich’s diary, Stockholm, 9 July 1833, my translation)

Lotten Ulrich (1806-1887) and her sister Edla Ulrich (1816-1897) lived at the Royal Palace in Stockholm where their father, Johan Christian Henrik Ulrich, was the secretary to King Carl XIV Johan. The family later moved to Norrköping. You can read more about them and their connection with Augusta in a previous blog entry.

So, was the silkworm an upper-class, exotic pet in the 1830s? And were there any mulberry trees in Stockholm so Lotten and Edla had something to feed them?

The Swedish Association for Domestic Sericulture

The Swedish Association for Domestic Sericulture, that is, silk farming, was founded in 1830. The driving force behind the association was a young woman by the name of Charlotte Östberg. She had previously, and anonymously, published a book about silk farming and she also practiced it in Stockholm. The founding members of the association were the husband of Charlotte Östberg and among others, professors Jacob Berzelius and Nils Wilhelm Almroth (the father of Augusta’s friends Ebba and Emma Almroth). By 1841, Professor Carl Henrik Boheman, the father of Augusta’s best friends Hildur and Hildegard Boheman) had also joined the board.

The Silk production at Bellevue

The association was to encourage silk production in Sweden by the planting of mulberry trees, to publish information on silkworm care and, depending on its means, provided those interested in silk production with plants and/or mulberry seeds. By 1841, the association had distributed over 50,000 seedlings.

The patron of the association was the Swedish Crown Princess Josephine. She was very much interested in silk production and her husband, Crown Prince Oscar, provided the association with land for planting mulberry trees at Bellevue, a royal park outside Stockholm. Bellevue thus became the center for teaching and promoting silk production in Stockholm.

Crown Princess Josephine’s award medal for the cultivation of silk. 1833.

By 1841, the association realized that only the wealthy had taken up silk production and then, only as an interesting hobby. Still, they concluded, that for the working class to take up silk production, the gentlemen must first cultivate mulberry trees and produce silk before the working class could profit from this new industry.

A thesis on the Swedish sericulture makes for very interesting reading. In summary, Sweden gave up on producing its own silk.

If it hadn’t been for a 190-year-old diary by a girl who described the delight in getting some silkworms, I would never have known about the forest of white mulberry trees at Bellevue in Stockholm. And if I was in Stockholm, I would make an outing to the park and look for any little mulberry tree. Maybe some stump or roots survived and sprouted new trees. From my experience, mulberry trees are almost impossible to get rid of – they really grow like weeds.

Sources:

Drömmen om svenskt silke. Anders Johansson Åbonde.

Systrarna Ulrichs dagböcker. Margareta Östman.

The Moving Panoramas

Henry Lewis’ painting of the Mississippi from Pikes Peak, Iowa (illustration from book)

Imagine a canvas that is over 4 miles (or 6.4 km) long!

In the mid-1800s, a few artists painted landscapes on such long canvases. Of course, if you wanted to do an accurate painting of the Mississippi River for example – or at least 1,000 miles of it – you probably needed a few miles of canvas.

Panoramas depicting landscapes and famous battles were already popular in the 1800s. They were displayed in theaters and assembly halls. But what if you wanted to make the viewer actually experience a river cruise? Seeing the changing scenery from the railing of a steamboat on the Mississippi?

The moving panorama – the virtual reality shows of the 1800s

A couple of months ago, my two daughters and I tried virtual reality provided by Dreamscape. We donned goggles and computer backpacks and attached sensors to our hands and feet and then entered a 3D world that was stunningly beautiful. Not only were we immersed in this 3D world, but we could also interact with it.

Advertisement for Dreamscapes Virtual Reality experiences

The moving panoramas were the virtual reality shows of the 1800s. The ads for Dreamscape, “Experience things you thought were fantasy. Be transported to places you couldn’t have imagined existed,” sound similar to the ads for the moving panorama shows. Europeans could now experience the Mississippi River or the Niagara Falls or New York.

So what were moving panoramas? Like a scroll, the panorama was painted on a long canvas which was attached to two spools. The image was then advanced by cranks so that the scenes would pass behind a huge frame. Music was added by live performers and the show was narrated so that the viewers would get a full understanding of the changing scenes.

Queen Victoria and her family watching a moving panorama

Risley’s Mississippi shown at De la Croix’s large salon in Stockholm

How did I get interested in moving panoramas?

One day, I was searching Swedish newspapers for an obituary of one of Augusta’s friends. I assumed it would be in a newspaper in April 1852. I was correct; I found it. But next to the obituary was an advertisement for Risley’s Mississippi. The ad stated that for 3 more days, Mr. Risley would show a moving panorama, the size of 60,000 square feet depicting 4000 miles of America. The show would take 2 hours.

Risley’s advertisement in Aftonbladet 8 Oct 1852

Who was Mr. Risley?

I searched for Mr. Risley in newspapers and books and found a similar ad in a London newspaper in 1848:

Richard Risley Carlisle (1814-1874) was first and foremost an American circus acrobat and juggler. He traveled all over the world and performed under the name of Professor Risley.

Professor Risley performing with his two sons

In 1848, Risley partnered with a panorama painter, John Rowson Smith, and traveled to Europe with Smith’s panorama, The Mississippi.

The painter of the panorama, John Rowson Smith (1810-1864), grew up in Brooklyn. His father, John Rubens Smith was a British painter and printmaker. It is unclear how John Rowson decided to paint the Mississippi river but it was around the same time that another landscape painter, John Banvard, was also painting a moving panorama of the Mississipi. The two were rivals as were others who realized that this new form of entertainment was lucrative. John Banvard was extremely successful showing his panorama in London. While John Banvard was both a painter and a showman, Risley was the entertainer who brought John Smith’s panorama to theatres and social halls around Europe. And the panorama got stellar reviews by the London press:

The only surviving moving panorama of the Mississippi

In all, 7 different moving panoramas of the Mississippi were produced by various artists. Nothing is documented about the destiny of John Rowson Smith & Risley’s panorama. John Banvard’s panorama was most likely cut up and used as theatre backdrops.

Only one moving panorama of the Mississippi still exists. It was painted by John J Egan and commissioned by Wilson Dickeson. It is presently housed at St. Louis Art Museum. A portion of it was filmed in 2015 and can be viewed here.

Making your own moving panorama

While searching for Risley’s Mississippi, I landed on a fantastic website: The Crankie Factory. Besides finding information about the moving panoramas of the Mississippi, I also got inspired by the idea of making simple moving-picture machines for small moving panoramas – “crankies”. If you are home with young kids, there are instructions on how to build simple crankies and there are links to watching crankies. Here is a beautiful and pretty elaborate one made by Meg and Ian Chittenden and the 8th grade class of the Bay School, a Waldorf school on the coast of Maine. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99wznzKuYd4.

And so much more…

Here are some additional reading

…about Professor Risley:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Risley_Carlisle

http://www.jai2.com/risley-imps.html

http://friendsofmountmoriahcemetery.org/richard-risley-carlisle-1814-1874-circus-performer/

…about John Banvard

https://www.amazon.com/Banvards-Folly-Renowned-Obscurity-Anonymity/dp/0312268866

…about another panorama painter, Henry Lewis, and his paintings of the Mississippi

https://archive.org/stream/dasillustrirtemi00lewi#page/204/mode/2up