Total Pageviews

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The Pioneer Cooking Stove, Indiana, late 1830s

I'm quite fond of this article, not simply because it is such a good retrospective account of the coming of the new technology to a midwestern frontier community in (probably) the late 1830s or early 1840s, but also because it is one of the first things I came across, years ago, when I was beginning to discover how much online resources would enrich my knowledge of the history of the stove and its users.  The Making of America project was one of the first really good historical text archives.  Its coverage seems quite limited nowadays, but back before the development of Google Books and the Internet Archive it struck me as wonderful.


-- 0--


'Ronald, of Indiana', "The Pioneer Cooking-Stove," The Ladies' Repository: a Monthly Periodical, Devoted to Literature, Arts, and Religion 17:1 (Jan. 1857), pp. 39-41, http://quod.lib.umich.edu/m/moajrnl/acg2248.1-17.001/47?node=acg2248.1-17.001%3A27&view=image.

[p. 39]  

DOES any body know when cooking-stoves began? Were they invented all at once, like bass-wood hams? or shall we answer these questions as Topsy did those involving her origin, "Don't know —spect they growed?" The first approach that I remember, was an anciently fashioned "ten-plate," with a place to boil a tea-kettle or receive a frying-pan. The idea thus suggested was subsequently developed, till, as we enjoy our patent, premium, air-tight, or combination, which can roast, bake, boil, broil, and stew all at once, we are convinced that this is truly a progressive age, and we a progressive people-progressive alike in compromises, constitutions, and cookery. 


Henry Schreiner of Philadelphia's "New Orleans Victory" Ten-Plate Stove, c. 1815-1830

Some of my fair readers may say, "No cookstoves! impossible! They never could get along without them." Softly, miss, just step over and ask your grandma. She will take pleasure in showing how breakfasts were done, and in cooking her dinners over again. She will tell you how she "baked her brains" over a roaring hickory fire--how she fretted about the oak wood, which would pop, snap, and smoke, but would not burn —how she was tried in temper by green beech, or a load of crooked limbs in harvest-time, till she raised a regular domestic row--how, fastened in the left side of the ample fireplace, was a "crane," with divers hooks of varied length, upon which were hung tea-kettle, stew-kettle, and mush-pot--how bread was baked for Sundays, rollings, huskings, quiltings, weddings, and infairs, in the brick-oven, and on smaller occasions in the Dutch-oven; and she will also tell you, what I honestly believe, that we have no such bread in these days. She will tell how johnnycake was baked on a board, hoe-cake on a hoe, and ash-cake in the ashes; also, what a sensation was produced when some cute Yankee brought out the polished tin reflector, which had most pleasing reflections, for they produced luscious pumpkin-pies and delicious, creamy biscuit -- such biscuit! I yet love to reflect upon those reflected biscuit--

They linger in my memory yet; 
Nor ever did their crust deceive me 

and how admirably it baked turkeys, and how "sound it was on the goose question." She will also tell how, when Christmas came on, the fatted turkey, after decapitation, plucking, and stuffing, was hung up before a rousing fire, by a string which was twisted round harder and harder, till the twist threw it back, and round again the other way, keeping up an impartial roasting and a "perpetual motion" on a small scale, while the dripping gravy was caught in a cup. 

And many other marvels will she also relate of the ante-cook-stove period, marvels to you as wonderful as the Arabian Nights, or the events in the life of Dred. Washing-day, for instance, was an institution then--the iron and copper kettles were carried out and swung in the shade of some willow or sycamore-tree, beside the "branch," where was plenty of soft-water. 


James "Saddlebag" Cooking Stove --
probably the biggest seller in New England and along the Northeast Seaboard, c. 1815-1825



But the cooking-stoves were invented. In an older state, and while living in town, we had owned the primitive article [see above illustration]; but when we moved to a newer state, and into the country, we did as others--cooked by the fireplace. But ever and anon came the ominous intimations of what could be done in the culinary department if there was only a cook-stove. The neighbors looked with suspicion and surprise upon such suggestions; they implied dissatisfaction with the lot Providence had assigned us, and then it was putting on city airs. If it came it would destroy primitive simplicity, introduce a new class of artificial wants, would bring in luxury which had already ruined quite a number of ancient notions, and might thus ultimately dissolve the Union. These were grave constitutional questions; but history records more than one instance in which the kitchen cabinet has triumphed over the fears of alarmists and the vox populi.*


* [Footnote] I think myself happy in having so formed this sentence as to get in this Latin. I fancy I see it in neat italics, and people looking upon it wonderingly, and saying, "What a scholar! Did he graduate at Yale?" Please don't tell them of the Dictionary of Quotations.
It stood firm; and soon an advocate appeared: near us lived a family of good neighbors--the "united head" of which had been Shakers, but had fled from "the village," because they thought it was "better to marry than to" stay there--the good ex-Shakeress said if her friends all died and left her to widowhood, it would be her last request to them to leave her a cooking-stove. Yet this only made the opposition stronger, for those who merely doubted before, were now convinced that if the Shakers used them, there could be no good in them. 

The discussion lasted several months, and took a wide range, including, in addition to the political aspect, economics, hygiene, and aesthetics, and was argued objectively, subjectively, synthetically, and analytically. But there was an energy in the kitchen cabinet no opposition could subdue —it prevailed; and it was agreed that the stove should [p. 40] come if the "Union had to slide". What sort it should be, where to get it, and how to bring it, were grave questions. The farm lay about sixty miles from the Queen City, and about forty-seven from the then young capital of our own state. [Which would place it in the neighborhood of Rushville]  The comparative advantages of the two points were duly considered, and decided in favor of the capital, much from the same reason which induces a man to employ a quack in preference to a good physician, because he belongs to his own Church.

The stove and its furniture were purchased, and wagoned the forty-seven miles, much of it over our primitive railroads, so trying to eggs and elliptic springs. Having been long expected, the news of the arrival spread rapidly; and our kind neighbors gathered in to help unload--very kind were they, and much disinterested--albeit they did want to see how the thing looked.

Well might they. It was a curiosity--it would be a greater curiosity now. Its total cost was sixty-five dollars in good money, the transportation some ten or fifteen more. It was a substantial stove, containing, in the matter of metal, enough for six such stoves as are cast in these degenerate days. As to appearance, I would describe it if I could. I find myself much in the predicament of a teamster, who was given to undue profanity. While hauling a load of ashes up a long hill, some mischievous elves came softly up and displaced the bottom of the bed so that the ashes would gradually escape. They then slipped past him, and secreted themselves where they knew he would stop his team, expecting to hear him swear like "our army did in Flanders;" but when he discovered the trick, and saw the rich trail up and down the hill-side, he drew a long breath, heaved a deep sigh, and said, "It's no use--the English language can't do justice to the occasion." The readers of this magazine know my acquaintance with, and command of the nervous, explosive descriptives of our language; but I "can't do justice" to that stove! Venerable mass of monumental iron! vast pile of pot-metal!

"Who knows what master laid thy keel,
What workman wrought thy ribs of iron;
What forges rang, what anvils beat,
In what a blast and what heat 
Were made thy" cap, dampers, etc.?

The inventor's name has escaped my memory--strange it should, for it is my mature conviction, that many a poor fellow has been pilloried for less atrocious deeds than inventing that stove.

Its plan was a double rotary movement. The top, pierced for several boilers, was rotary, and, using the language of a boarding-school young lady, "all devolved on a pivot," so each kettle and pot was in turn directly over the fire chamber. The oven also rotated by a cog-wheel movement, and was worked by a crank, so, after one side had baked awhile, the other could be wheeled next the fire and share its turn. Where, or how the pipe was placed I can't tell; I know it was so fixed it wouldn't draw.



Stanley Rotary Stove Patent Drawing (original version, without oven)

It was lifted out, the pieces counted, compared with the bill, and pronounced correct. The double-rotary movement, the cog-wheel, and crank, excited much admiration. The machine was run nearly all that night.

The capacity of the stove to prepare alimentary substance was then argued in detail. The great question was, "Will it bake corn-bread?" It was argued pro and con. I, miserable sinner, hoped it wouldn't, for I didn't want to see a dodger for six months. We had no distilleries then, and the best we could do was to eat the corn-we and the hogs-hence, corn-bread was an essential. The young suitor asked, ere he popped the question, "Can she make good corn-bread? Lacking this, music, drawing, embroidery, French, and dancing went for nothing. The majority decided in the negative; but the kitchen cabinet and the ex-Shakeress argued the affirmative most strenuously-subsequent developments proved the majority half right, for it never did more than half-bake a pone.

Of course the autobiography I published in this monthly some years ago, is distinctly remembered by every reader. I had occasion in that document to state that I have ever been a persecuted man. Take this fact in proof: I was made wood-purveyor of this stove. Green wood it refused to recognize, and ignored some sorts of seasoned. It would burn none unless split into kindling. But the selection and hauling of the fuel depended upon others. I found myself as bad off as the Israelites required to make brick without straw- finely-split dry wood was required of me by the kitchen cabinet, while I received nothing but load after load of green limbs or unsplittable chunks. At length even my sweet temper gave way, and I stopped the team, saying, unless I could have dry wood I wouldn't cut another stick and they might do the best they could for dinner. The master of the team saw that my purpose was taken, and said, "Why, the man is in earnest!" The seasoned wood came, and I ever bore the title of the man.

That stove seemed possessed of strange intelligence. Let strangers, or especially honored guests, arrive, and bake it wouldn't. In vain did [p. 41] I split the wood fine, and cross the wood; in vain would I fall an ash rail and "cut up the lap," bake it would not. In vain did we take out the ashes and soot; in vain did we ply the crank the more we tried the more it refused to bake.

Yet, with all its faults and foibles, that old stove had a mission. It is true we afterward sold it for fifteen dollars, yet it did a work. It was pioneer. Others followed in swift succession. Soon one of our neighbors reported a better stove bought with twenty dollars less money. We were compelled to own up; but he was soon reminded that crowing was uncertain. One of his neighbors bought the "newest style," with the "latest improvements," and laid out fifteen dollars less! He was wonderfully crest-fallen, and grew amazingly philosophic, and hastened to an old couple, and urged upon them the importance of a cooking-stove, and so desirous was he to add to their comfort, that he would sell them his, as good as new, for five dollars less than it cost. The old gentleman received the proposition gravely, but declined to purchase; and was soon seen hauling home one, span new, glittering all over with tin-ware, bought for twenty-five dollars. The ex-Shakeress, too, had one without waiting till her friends all died.

I must also mention, as a faithful historiographer, that soon after the stove came, a debating-club was organized, and kept up till the questions were exhausted. Then came on thrashing-machines, false-teeth, reapers, daguerreotypes, and hooped skirts. They came after our stove. Noble pioneer! it "headed the column on."

I do not, however, believe that it had any appreciable influence upon the compromises of 1850, or the repeal of the Missouri Compromise and the Kansas troubles. I do not believe it, if it was prophesied that there was danger of a dissolution if cooking-stoves came in. History must settle this.

But much as stoves are improved, I still think some things are not so well cooked as in the days of fireplaces and ovens. 0, how often have I sighed for a good old-times, fireplace-cooked "potpie," such as was prepared in those days at rollings! I ne'er shall look upon the like again. What mush was then made! How we young folks would sit the winter night by the ingle side, and watch the bubbling up of the coming supper! No unskilled hand was permitted to use the mush-stick-too much was at stake. Did any body ever pretend that a bona fide pone was ever baked in a stove? Impossible! But I refrain -- savory memories come up; but what good will it do to think them over?--the substance can't be had. More's the pity.


-- 0 --

What kind of stove was "Ronald" recalling?  It's hard to tell, because his description is a bit odd in that it speaks of the oven as having been rotary too.  However, the most popular rotary stove in the region was also the most celebrated, Henry Stanley's, made in Poultney, Vermont since the early 1830s, and by other manufacturers under licence.  Here is a contemporary recommendation:

Caroline Gilman, The Lady's Annual Register, and Housewife's Memorandum-book for 1838 (Boston: T.H. Carter, 1837), http://books.google.com/books?id=twlaAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA27.

[p. 27] The Kitchen. Let us look into the kitchen; we need not  be ashamed of the place ... What a contrast between the kitchen of modern times and that of the period when King Alfred baked his cake on a  wooden board!  Kitchen utensils have fast accumulated, and dressers and closets are crowded with forms that would  puzzle a mathematician. This was the natural consequence of the restless ingenuity of civilized life until the present philosophy of mechanics was attained, by which cooking  and washing are reduced to the most simple forms. Among  the most admirable inventions for cooking are the cooking-stoves of Dutcher, Rathburn [RATHBONE], Whitney, James [the "Saddlebags," illustrated above], and the Rotary  stove -- the prices of which vary from twenty to forty  dollars, according to the size, and extent of apparatus; they  can be obtained in any of the principal cities .... With either of these //p. 28 cooking-stoves, even the mother of a family in delicate  health need not fear the overwhelming warmth which has  heretofore driven her from the kitchen; and her fair daughters  can prepare the most elaborate cookery without injuring  their complexions. One of the great charms of these inventions  is the air of neatness they throw around a kitchen... 


Stanley's rotaries and their Cincinnati maker figured in a widely reported patent case of 1839, Henry Stanley v. Emor Whipple [2 McLean, 35. December Term, 1839], for which see James B. Robb, compiler, A Collection of Patent Cases Decided in the Circuit and Supreme Courts of the United States (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1854), Vol. II, pp. 1-10, http://books.google.com/books?id=8co9AAAAIAAJ or http://www.archive.org/stream/acollectionpate01courgoogAccording to Whipple, his versions of the Stanley "had superseded all others" wherever it had been introduced (p. 5).

Like most popular stove types, Stanley's rotary was not entirely novel, and it was widely imitated. Other rotary stove patents included:

Stanley, Henry -- Poultney, VT -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. X7333 December 17, 1832
Town, Elisha -- Montpelier, VT -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. X7871 December 16, 1833
Nott, Eliphalet -- Schenectady, NY -- Cooking Stove Pat. No. X7948 January 9, 1834
Town, Elisha -- Montpelier, VT -- Cook Stove, Rotary Pat. No. X8206 May 16, 1834
Burnell, Levi -- Elyria, OH -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. X8509 November 25, 1834
Spoor, Abraham D. -- Coxsackie, NY -- Cook Stove Pat. No. X8573 January 7, 1835
Gill, Bennington -- New York, NY -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. X9285 December 9, 1835
Town, Elisha -- Montpelier, VT -- Stove, Crane cooking Pat. No. 37 September 28, 1836
French, Maynard -- Albany, NY -- Stove-cap, Rotary Pat. No. X9451 March 2, 1836
Douglas, Beriah -- Albany, NY -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. X9805 June 30, 1836
Douglas, Beriah -- Albany, NY -- Heating Stove Pat. No. X9806 June 30, 1836 [records for these two patents are confused -- the description of one is with the drawing of the other, and vice versa]
Granger, Rensselaer D. --  Troy, NY -- Stoves, Adding ovens to rotary Pat. No. 282 July 17, 1837
Mott, Jordan L. -- New York, NY -- Stove, Combination cooking Pat. No. 466 November 20, 1837
Heermance, Garet G. -- Poughkeepsie, NY -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. 852 July 24, 1838
Ketchum, Micah -- Boston, PA -- Stove Pat. No. 1,159 May 25, 1839
French, Maynard -- Cincinnati, OH -- Stove, Rotary-top Pat. No. 2,666 June 11, 1842
Hart, Albert D. -- Pittsfield, MA -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. 3,164 July 8, 1843
Stanley, Henry -- W. Poultney, VT -- Stove, Rotary-top Pat. No. 4,238 October 25, 1845
Mott, Jordan L. -- New York, NY -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. 7,347 May 7, 1850
Mott, Jordan L. -- New York, NY -- Stove, Cooking Pat. No. 7,366 May 14, 1850
Hill, W.W. -- Greenport, NY -- Dampers in rotary stoves, Arrangement of, Pat. No. 11,010 June 6, 1854


These were all (or almost all) patents for real stoves, the work of leading dealers and manufacturers in some of the trade's main centers, many of them leaving significant evidence of their sale (including advertisements, prizes in trade shows, etc.).  All of them can be inspected online, either at the USPTO's own site http://patft.uspto.gov/netahtml/PTO/srchnum.htm or via Google (e.g. http://www.google.co.uk/patents/US282?printsec=drawing for Rensselaer Granger's) but none of them seems to fit "Ronald of Indiana"'s peculiar description any more closely than Stanley's does.

Endorsements for Orr's Air-Tight Stove, 1842, and some counter-arguments

More on the theme of the active discussion of methods of home heating in progressive farmers' journals.  Orr's Air-Tight deserves an entry all of its own -- http://stovehistory.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/the-reverend-isaac-orr-inventor-of-air.html.

-- 0 --

Isaac Orr's Air-Tight Heating Stove -- 1842 Patent Drawing 


J.C.M., “Orr's Air-Tight Stove,” The Farmer's Cabinet, and American Herd Book, 6:6 (15 Jan 1842), p. 173, http://books.google.com/books?id=gnkYAQAAIAAJ&pg=PA173.

p. 173 Mr. Editor,—I approve of the rule to exclude advertisements, as such, from the pages of the Cabinet; but when a real advantage to the community can be made known by mention of it in the course of its publication—particularly when the recommendation comes from one who has tested its pretensions, and found them in every respect what they purport to be, and who is, moreover, in no way interested in the sale of the article, either directly or indirectly—it would appear to be doing general service to point it out as a thing to be desired, and not as a thing to be advertised.

In the Philadelphia Ledger of this morning, is an article on the burning of anthracite coal in stoves, in which the writer remarks, that great use is made of iron vessels for evaporating water to regulate the atmosphere of the apartments thus heated by coal fires; and recommends the substitution of earthen vessels for this purpose, renewing the water every day and rinsing out the bowl; water evaporated in iron vessels being very offensive, rendering the atmosphere of the apartments impure as well as disagreeable; advising, for parlours where the atmosphere is desired to be pleasant and agreeable, a small quantity of Cologne water to be added to the clean water, which will diffuse itself in the atmosphere of the room, and make it pleasant ! The writer adds, "The heat produced by hard or anthracite coal, is very different from that produced by bituminous coal, and is injurious to persons in delicate health; rooms in which hard coal is burnt, require more ventilation than where bituminous coal is used."

Now, having myself been long subject to the inconvenience and injury arising from burning anthracite coal in close stoves, and having suffered considerably in my health from the cause above alluded to, I have at length been induced to substitute in their place the air-tight stove invented by Orr, for the burning of wood; and if it were possible, would describe the difference experienced from the change—but words are inadequate, and therefore I need not attempt it. The price, $10, will be saved in the difference in the cost of fuel the present winter; while the convenience, cleanliness, comfort, and consolation, arising from the circumstance of having at all times, by night as well as by day, just so much heat and no more, as you desire and in an instant, merely by turning off or on the draught by the finger and thumb, are just inconceivable, and not to be appreciated except by experience. It may be added, the fire is made up in the morning by supplying half a dozen short billets of wood, and no more will be required, under ordinary circumstances, for twenty-four or perhaps thirty-six hours, the stove being perfectly closed on retiring for the night, during which the process of charring goes on, but no flaming. I am tempted to say, I closed tight the door of my stove at ten o'clock last night, and having occasion to rise at three this morning, preparatory for a journey, I found the atmosphere of the room 70 degrees of heat by the thermometer, at the farthest part from the fire; and by raising the draught half an inch, I increased it to a degree that quite surprised me. It is not too much to say, I calculate that one-tenth part of the wood required to heat a room by burning in an open chimney, will be more than sufficient to keep the same room at the same temperature by means of the air-tight stove; and then, the convenience of having to light the fire but once in the season, and taking from the stove in the morning sufficient charcoal to light all the other fires in the house, will render it the most profitable, as well as desirable, of all the numerous contrivances that have come down to us in the shape of about five hundred varieties of stoves, of all sizes, shapes, and prices. I am now quite convinced that the expensive apparatus for warming houses by hot air is no longer necessary, for by means of the air-tight stove, all that is desirable can be obtained far more certainly, quicker, and incomparably more pleasant in its effects, at a tenth of the expense; and by which, also, the very prevalent complaint of bronchitis will, I am satisfied, be avoided, the cause of that disorder being the inhaling of air that has passed over a red-hot body of metal, thus having been rendered unfit for respiration—at least, this? is my firm conviction, in which I am justified* by the effects of the last few days, since I have discarded the iron cylinder coal-stove, and obtained one of the air-tight wood-stoves. For the sick-chamber it is peculiarly adapted, as it emits no unpleasant smell, creates no noise or dust in managing, diffusing a gentle heat, or rather glow, that can be regulated to a degree by means of a thermometer at any moment, keeping it up to that point which might be recommended by the physician—a point which, in many cases, is of vital importance ; while to the medical practitioner himself, whose office-hours are uncertain to a proverb, and whose nights are so often broken in upon by professional calls, the use of this stove is most desirable; for on leaving home, he can regulate the draught by closing the door, and in an instant, on his return, raise the heat to the degree he might choose, and that, after the absence of twelve hours, or even double that time. And the student, also, whose hours of recreation are so //p. 174 often taxed with a cold reception on return to his studies, can now determine upon the exact degree of warmth which the spirit of his subject may require for its full development, and regulate the damper accordingly, be it poetry or be it prose, by night or by day.

But to none will it be more convenient than to the farmer, whose concerns so often call him and the members of his family abroad, or into the kitchen or dairy, at which time friends may call and render a fire in the betterrnost room very desirable, although it might be required but for a short time; it is, therefore, but to leave one of these stoves pretty well filled with wood in the morning, closing the door, and he has it in his power to give his warmest friend a correspondent welcome in an instant by opening the draught; and on his taking leave, to shut it, and as effectually to put a stop to any further expense of fuel, be it even until the end of the day. In short, I know of nothing of the kind that can at all compare with the air-tight stove, either for economy, comfort, cleanliness, or convenience. I pray you, Mr. Editor, try it.
J. C. M.
7th of December, 1841.

We have tried it, and bear willing testimony to all that our correspondent has advanced in its favour, adding the answer of a friend, of whom we inquired its character after a year's trial—" We would not be without it for ten times its cost." In fixing it, the chimneyboard should be made perfectly tight, by putty, if necessary, or, perhaps better, by pasting stout paper over it. And before laying the wood, cover the bottom of the stove about two. i nches thick with wood-ashes, upon which place your kindling, and upon that the wood; after the first lighting, let the wood be as large as will pass in at the door, and the rougher and harder it is, the better. A degree of care will be necessary in regulating the draught, both at the door and the valve in the smoke-pipe, but the art will be very soon acquired by practice. It may be well to add, it is said a slight explosion has sometimes taken place in the stoves on first lighting the fire, when the air in the chimney has been so cold and heavy as to prevent the warm air in the stove from passing quickly, but that is no more than what all stoves are liable to, if the chimney-board is very tight, as it ought to be; we have, however, guarded against this contingency, by cutting a round bole in the chimney-board just below the smoke-pipe, over which is suspended by a small nail a piece of tin, which, in the event of a pressure of air in the chimney, opens into the room and forms a safety-valve. And we have hitherto observed, that the pressure of the air in the room has the power to press it so closely, as to render the opening perfectly air-tight—there it is, however, if at any time, its preventive powers should be called into requisition.

In the "Yankee Farmer" for the past week, we find the description of a stove which might be supposed to have been taken from the air-tight stove of which we have been speaking; it is given under the head, " The true principle of stoves," and ia worthy particular notice. " In order to produce the greatest quantity of heat in proportion to the quantity of fuel consumed, a stove should present a large quantity of vertical surface to the surrounding air, and that surface should be smooth, for the purpose of facilitating the ascent of a current of rarefied air. If any projection impedes this upward current, the heat accumulates and remains comparatively stationary, and thus prevents the fret radiation of heat from within ; but when there is a brisk circulation of air outside, the heat, as it passes through the iron surface, is instantly carried off, and is circulated in the room; thus allowing the free radiation of more. Atmospheric air should always be excluded from the interior of a stove,except so much as is requisite to produce the required quantity of heat; by admitting too much air, a rapid current is produced within, and the emanating beat is driven into the chimney before it has time to radiate through the iron plate. In most of the stoves now in use, more than two-thirds of the heat, which might otherwise be useful, is totally lost."

We feel pleasure in informing our friends, that "Orr's Air-Tight Stoves" may be obtained of Mr. W. W. Hughes, 147 south Front street, Philadelphia.—Ed.

- o - o - o - o - o -

J. Dennis, “Orr's Air-tight Stove,” 6:8 (15 Mar. 1842). 

p. 254 Mr. Editor,—Having so strongly recommended the air-tight stove, I thought you would like to be informed that a terrible explosion has taken place in one of them at Nantucket, which demolished the chimney, and threw the bricks and stove all out into the middle of the room. Now I should be glad to know if you still approve of them? for in this neighbourhood there is considerable alarm felt on the subject, and I rather congratulate myself on delaying the purchase of one—which I had intended from your recommendation—until I hear farther about it. Pray enlighten us, and oblige your subscriber.

J. Dennis.

Hearing an account of the explosion, we made it our business to call on the agent for the sale of the air-tight stove, who informed us he had written to Mr. Abbot, and had received a most satisfactory answer to his inquiries, which, having since appeared in print, we copy, for the information of those who have already purchased or intend to purchase a stove, that, in our estimation, still continues unrivalled. A moment's reflection will convince any one, that the explosion must have taken place in the chimney and not in the stove, which, weighing a few pounds only, and very easily removed from its position by a single finger, could not have formed a resistance sufficient to throw out brick-work, iron mantel-bar and wood-work, scattering all over the room; but the writer explains all.—

"Explosion from an air-tight stove.—As the explosion which occurred from an air-tight stove in the house of the subscriber a few days ago, has excited some interest, I send you, for publication in your paper, if you judge it expedient, the following statement of the facts in the case.

The stove was a large one, called the fourteen dollar size. It was set by bricking up the fire-place, and no ventilator was made. At ten o'clock, the evening before the explosion, there being then a glowing fire in the stove, I put in an armful of green walnut wood, and closed entirely both the register and the damper. When I arose the next morning about 6 o'clock, I opened the door of the stove, and could see but little fire, though the wood seemed to be converted almost to charcoal. I left open the door and the damper perhaps three minutes, when the Wood became in a light blaze, and the stove in some parts red hot. The funnel, where it entered into the brick-work, had, by repeated contractions and expansions, become loose, leaving quite a crack around the funnel through which I could plainly see the flame from the stove entering the chimney. I then shut the door of the stove, and opened the register, leaving the damper still open. Observing, perhaps in a minute, that the fire was much checked, I again took hold of the door, and had opened it about half an inch, when, with a loud report, truly a fearful explosion took place, not in the stove, but in the fire-place behind it! The brick-work was thrown out clear; the iron mantel-bar torn out, and the wood-work around the mantel greatly shattered. The stove was driven two or three feet into the room, and much indented by the bricks which were thrown against it. The bricks and mortar were scattered all over the room. The explosion was unquestionably caused by gas—probably carburetted hydrogen, generated in the stove, and collected behind the brick-work in the fire-place. This gas, when mingled with certain proportions of atmospheric air, possesses great explosive power. If there had been a ventilator in the brick-work near the hearth, the collection of this gas, and the consequent explosion would probably have been prevented. I have now had my stove replaced in its former position, with a ventilator. I cannot reject a friend I value so highly, for a single misdemeanor.

"John S.C. Abbot." Nantucket, Jan. 15,1842. [Mer. Journal].

- o - o - o - o - o -

James Pedder, "Orr's Air-Tight Stove," The Farmers' Cabinet, and American Herd-book 7:5
(15 Dec. 1842): 153, http://books.google.com/books?id=-EPSAAAAIAAJ.

We endorse with pleasure and satisfaction our account of Orr's air-tight stove. It has never deceived or disappointed us, but still continues, after a year's experience, to be the greatest comfort and the cheapest luxury in our household establishment. In every instance have our calculations been verified, and often indeed have we been led to observe that our estimate of its value has been below its merits. We commenced the present season with another of these stoves, and have now two in constant operation, with reason to repeat, that we expect to save about the cost of the stove in fuel during the year. There is still another convenience to be added to those enumerated by our former correspondent, J.C.M. at page 173, vol. VI., to which we refer our readers; and which we experienced the value of during a time of sickness, when the stove, carefully closed, with the fire in it, was removed to an upper apartment by a single individual, and placed in its proper position in two minutes; and in less than a minute after, was blazing away, without the labour, noise and filth of lighting, or the loss of heat consequent on a first kindling.

It must be remembered, they are designed for the consumption of wood only; the desideratum being, to be able to ignite and extinguish the fire suddenly, which could not be effected if coal were used. If on closing entirely the stove at night, it be found in the morning that the fire has been completely extinguished, it can be re-kindled by burning a piece of paper on the remaining charcoal, and the heat will be found instantly to penetrate the sides and top of the stove without further trouble.

It gives us pleasure to be able to furnish an engraving of the air-tight stove for the satisfaction of our correspondent; and to inform, they are now made of very superior material and workmanship, by W.W. Hughes, agent to the patentee, No. 45 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, at the prices of 7, 8, 10 and 11 dollars, according to size and enibellishments. The seven dollar stove is large enough for the chamber; while that at ten dollars, is suitable for a large parlour, or for two rooms, communicating by folding doors. When the stove is removed at the end of the winter season, it should be well cleaned inside, and receive a coat of linseed oil inside and out, which will effectually protect it from the effects of the atmosphere.

- o - o - o - o - o -

S.R. [Solon Robinson], "Orr's Air-Tight Stove," The Farmers' Cabinet, and American Herd-Book 7:5 (15 Dec. 1842): 153, http://books.google.com/books?id=-EPSAAAAIAAJ

A Constant reader of the Cabinet, who has had some experience and much exercise in the way of stove dealing, wishes to know if the editor is ready to endorse the account which appears over his signature at page 174, in vol. VI., highly commendatory of Orr's air-tight stove; or has an additional year added to, or diminished his confidence in its qualifications there specified? If he still continues to consider it the chef d'ouvre (sic) in the art of stove-making in this land of stoves, he would oblige one who is again afloat, or rather aground, seeking for the best stove for chamber or parlour purpose after repeated disappointment, if he would so declare. Any thing relating to this inquiry, in the way of explanation, recommendation or even condemnation, would oblige many readers of the Cabinet, amongst whom a stove, found to embrace the qualifications described as above, would be a great desideratum, particularly in the facility with which a fire may be kept in the bettermost room of an evening, to enable the owner to give a casual visiter (sic) a warm reception, and as quickly to extinguish it, when no longer requisite. The writer has at present three wood stoves in operation, which together, keep one man pretty busy in sawing and splitting wood for their supply; but if the editor's account is to be relied upon, he would calculate that one half the labour and expense might be saved. The people in this part of the country have not yet had an opportunity of seeing the airtight stove, nor would they have known of it, perhaps, but through the pages of the Cabinet. In the event of its still continuing to be approved, would it be too much to ask if a drawing of it could be furnished, with directions for its use, and any observations that might be thought interesting to persons at a distance from the place of manufactory.

If all is, as has been represented, a great many stoves would find, in this part of the country a ready sale. An early attention to the subject would oblige, as the weather just now admits of no delay. 

S.R. 30th of Nov., 1842.

Thirty Degrees Below Zero, 1856

In January 1856 "F.W.S.," the editor of The Knickerbocker's "favorite 'Up-River' correspondent," ("Winter cannot freeze his fancy, nor snow thicken the ink that drops in gems from his potent pen," p. 192), reported to the magazine's city-based readership on the experience of extreme cold in the Green Mountains of northern New England:

Thirty Degrees Below Zero: This is ten degrees lower than the god Mercury had snuggled down in his crystal cell at my last. Amabile frigus! as Horatius has it. Delightful coolness! Have you ever tasted it? Clap your tongue on a bar of cold iron, or a smooth sleigh-runner, and it will polish it up, and remove the fur. [p. 311]

After pages of mid-Victorian prose about Dr. Kane, the American polar explorer, and Arctic cold, F.W.S. eventually got back to his subject, and closer to home:

[p. 313] I had not intended to allude to Kane, but commenced with a different object, to speak of the effects of intense cold. Thirty degrees below zero are sometimes experienced in this latitude, although we neither feed on train-oil, nor harness dogs, nor drive rein-deer, nor travel with snow-shoes; and I assure you that the weather is quite comfortable at that point. It is intense, but still. Ordinary winter clothing will suffice. When you snuff the open air, you are aware of its quality from the line and icy net-work, finer than spider's web, which is woven instantaneously within your nostrils as the breath goes out, and which is dissolved and spun again with a tickling and a tingling sensation. The lungs imbibe freely and refreshingly as if cool wavelets of a brook. The snow squeaks beneath the feet. Within doors you are startled by sundry noises; the timbers of the house groan, the boards contract, and tear up the nails with a sound which resembles the explosion of a pistol, and is repeated at short intervals. The smoke rolls upward from the chimneys in white volumes — white as the snow itself. The flanks of the horses are well powdered, their manes and shaggy coats are tagged with little pellets, a hirsute beard of icicles hangs from their chins. As they stand thus enveloped in vapor, and a white steam gushes from their nostrils, they seem like mythic creatures come back to realms of matter-of-fact The eaves of houses are adorned with massive, sharpened pendents, which would be deemed most rich if carved in wood or marble, but which are superber yet when of transparent crystals. This architectural ornamentation, made by the still and master-hand of Nature, alas! that it should be removed as quickly, as noiselessly, and as magically as it was fashioned, by a breath or by vapor, in a night or in a day; that one by one the icicles should all drop off, and nothing be left but a rude uncomely gutter. In the morning, the windows of your chamber are not covered with delicate frost-work, in which you can trace out many pictures, but coated with a thick snow, through which external objects are invisible. If you have courage to resume your walks, go visit the pools where you have once dropped your line for the speckled trout, the water-course, the cascade, or the cataract. There you will see superb congelations, immense icicles. Mill-dams are frozen, and, with all their foam and frothy billows, arrested and petrified as by a magician's wand; the great rocks are covered with a massive coating, and from the brow of the dripping precipice hang immense ice-drops, sharp and glittering pendents, while shafts and columns, and glittering boulders of every form, are seen about, and the whole landscape is arrayed in the utmost gorgeousness of winter.


Not long ago, at the midnight hour, I sat inditing this by a cheerful light. A stealthy cold crept along the floor, and stole about the feet. I heard the boards and timbers cracking, I arose and piled on the pitchy logs, then went out into the keen night-air. What a scene! The moon was at the full. Within a hundred yards, at the base of a steep hill upon the right, a range of manly Doric columns, carved out of native marble, and worthy of ancient Athens, composing the capital on the portico of this sovereign State, glistened in the whito beams, and a beautiful dome was upheaved in the very spot where, within the memory of living men, the audacious wolves, and bears, and catamounts were wont to prowl. All around lay [p. 314] a vast scene of rolling mountains, white from peak to base, the surface of the snow as hard as ice, and glistening like purest alabaster. It was a cold, a glorious, yet solemn sight. Light without warmth! You could read the finest print. I had polar feeling, such as Kane had when he searched for Franklin's grave among the bergs of ice. I sniffed and snuffed the breeze bare-headed for a moment, and then retreated into summer heat. Cold contracts: it crystallizes iron, and it drives the soul into snug, concentred quarters. It makes home pleasant, and by contrast adds a new delight and zest to genial warmth. Now the historians please, now the poets satisfy. Ah! how pleasant to be in a snug home, when the tempest dashes against the windows and upon the roof; or in an illuminated library when the winter howls without! But I was about to describe the physical effects of intense cold. Man readily adapts himself to any climate, and can live sub Diofrigido — be very comfortable at thirty degrees below zero — or breathe, like the fireking, in an oven hot enough to bake bread. It is all habit. Other animals seem to suffer little. Cows and horses bear the weather well. As to hogs, they are not sensitive: they are as tough as J. B.: either their hides are leathery thick, or bristles are warm as Saxony wool. Give them provender, and a chance to put one hoof in the trough, and they do not care whether Mercury goes up an inch or down a foot. I can perceive no sign of suffering unless indicated by a grunt It would be unfair to interpret that dialect as expressing the voice of complaint.
Birds sometimes perish, and are pierced through the vitals by a sharp icy dart, as they are struck dead by electric fire; but if they belong to Northern climes, they bear up (penna metuente solvi) with an untiring wing.

The other day, I saw a flight of snow-birds sit down in a garden-patch to pick at the seed-vessels of a few dry weeds, and as they rose up to fly, and wheeled about, they seemed like a flurry of vast snow-flakes, their bosoms were 'so white as no fuller on earth could whiten them.' It is funny to see a single file of geese fast asleep, standing upon the ice on one leg, like so many zanies, looking like the relics of that great shot once made by Baron Munchausen. But a Shanghai rooster is out of place in this latitude. He can't stand it. There was a tall, scrawny fellow about the premises, and his feathers looked like porcupine quills. The first cold snap came, and in the night watches I no longer heard him crow the hours in accordance with the town clock. In the morning he came not down from his perch: he grappled it with the clutch of an eagle's talons: it was the grab of death. From crest to Pope's nose, he was as stiff a piece of poultry as you would find in the stalls. 

F.W.S., "Thirty Degrees Below Zero -- A Fact!" The Knickerbocker 47:3 (Mar. 1856): 311-314, http://books.google.com/books?id=J8gGAQAAIAAJ.

Monday, April 1, 2013

A Chilly February in Troy, NY, 1855

A reader of and contributor to The Knickerbocker explains why inhabitants of the northern United States were so enthusiastic about the technology of comfort.  'Paul Martindale' reports on how a bitter winter has exposed the inadequacy of his old Nott stove, state of the art when it was first introduced more than twenty years earlier, and seems to express regret or dissatisfaction about his decision to respond to the advice of Andrew Jackson Downing and others, and return to using an open fire.

-- 0 -- 

'Paul Martindale,' "Thermometer Twenty-Three Degrees Below Nothing," The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, 45:3 (March 1855): 320, http://books.google.com/books?id=9McGAQAAIAAJ.

[Troy Carpet-Mills, 27 Feb 1855]

DEAR KNICK: 

I thaw my ink to say / The weather's on a spree: / Thermometers have burst their bulbs, / Quicksilver's 'duty free.'

Business is dead -- all liquids are / Solidified stagnation; / And e'en the Hudson River can't / Go on in liquidation.

The water-fall's no more a fall, / So winterish is the weather; / And all the drops are dropping up / In frozen mist together.

My wheels have wheeled into line, / As one vast solid column; / And all my works are bound at last / In one stupendous volume.

The race-way's run its final race, / The waste-weir's now no waste wear: / While in my flume the anchor-ice / Is anchored everywhere.

My colors now are colorless -- / My dyeing all is dead: / And though I'm bothered with the blues, / My nose is very red.

My boiler's quit of all its boils, / The fireman's nose is frozen: / And my hot-water pails have kicked / The bucket by the dozen.

My old NOTT's stove is not a stove, / It's just a ventilator; / And my new grate has proved to be / A great refrigerator.

The watchman's fires all 'end in smoke'; / Even daylight is ice-bound: / For the shadow of the chimney-stack / Is frozen to the ground.

'Tis thus obtuse, we 're left, dear Knick, / Opaque, dull, lifeless, stolid: / No breath of life -- no genial warmth --  / In fact, I'm frozen solid!

The Pleasures of the American Winter


"Table-Talk," Appletons' Journal of Literature, Science and Art vol. 4, no. 90 (12 Dec. 1870), p. 742, 

HAWTHORNE, after spending a winter in Rome, declared that thereafter he would, if possible, pass that inclement season in some part of the globe where it is recognized as a legitimate institution. Hawthorne has not been the only traveller who has descanted upon the discomforts of winter when experienced in a climate where frost is but an irregular and uncertain visitor.  Olmsted, in his account of his winter travels in Texas, describes feelingly some of the sufferings underwent from the cold "northers," against which the imperfectly-constructed houses afforded a very inadequate protection. Winter, indeed, is only an affliction in places or with people where or with whom there is no suitable means for guarding against its rigors. To well-fed, well-housed, well-clothed people, winter is as delightful as any other season of the year. Its pleasures, of course, are essentially different from those of summer, but they are no less vivid and no less genuine. Not to mention those out-of-door sports, such as skating and sleighing, that are unexcelled by any of other seasons, it is within-doors that the winter supplies us with some of its best delights. In summer the hill-top, the brookside, the garden, the porch, the open window -- all places, in fact, that afford us quiet and pleasant air, have equal claims upon our affection; but it is only in winter that we come to understand the full significance of the word home. When the storm is shaking our casements, and the night is black and dangerous, then, within the drawn curtains and around the blazing fire, we discover how secure, and glowing, and peaceful, and rich in affections, are "hearth and home." Just as in spring the first blossoms give us delight, so in winter does the fire when first lighted give us singular pleasure. Perhaps of all our boyhood recollections those of the old winter's fireside are the keenest and the most delightful. When the first snow-fall comes this season, let the reader take down his copy of Whittier's "Snow-bound," and read the poem by the brisk blaze of crackling logs, with the sound of the outward blast reaching his ear in melancholy menace, and see what a relish the old-fashioned picture will have for him. By the brisk blaze of crackling logs! Alas! if he reads it at all, in all probability it will be over the hot air of a register, or by the burnt iron of a stove. Firesides and hearthstones are things of the past, and with their departure have gone nearly all the best charms of a winter-home. Modern life is surrounded with a good many conveniences, but every innovation in our households seems to signalize the death of some treasured pleasure. Your furnace, no doubt, diffuses an even warmth through the house, but, in shutting up the fireplace, it scatters the household and breaks up the old-time family-circle. It drives out of the home an artist who was wont to paint delicious pictures on your walls, and tint the cheeks of your dear ones with a rare glow. It excludes a friend whose bright, sparkling chatter once entertained you many a long evening, and whose blaze and glow rarely failed to fill your heart with cheerfulness and gratitude. There are a few old-fashioned people who cling to wood-fires, but many of the younger generation remain ignorant of what was once the greatest charm of a winter-home. "Coal," says Ik Marvel [Donald Grant Mitchell, Connecticut essayist 1822-1908], "may have its uses in the furnace, which takes off the sharp edge of winter from the whole interior of the house, and keeps up a night-and-day struggle with Boreas for the mastery, but a country home without some one open chimney around which, in time of winter twilight, when snows are beating against the panes, the family may gather, and watch the fire flashing, and crackling, and flaming, and waving, until the girls clap their hands and the boys shout in a kind of exultant thankfulness, is not worthy the name."