Well before gaining statehood in 1796, carpenters, cabinetmakers and chairmakers were leaving Eastern Seaboard states to settle in Tennessee. They crossed the mountains using The Great Road (also known as The Great Wagon Road). They advertised their services in local newspapers and, very fortunately for me, and possibly for you, these ads were collected by Ellen Beasley, a researcher for the Historic Sites Federation of Tennessee. Her sources were newspapers and the 1820 Census of Manufacturers.
Following is a selection of advertisements and census information dating from 1809 to 1840 taken from Ellen Beasley’s article, “Tennessee Cabinetmakers and Chairmakers Through 1840,” published in Antiques Magazine, October 1971. At the end of the ads you will see capital letters which are keys to the newspaper or census source.
John D. Goss on the Price of Mechanical Labor and a Hearse Available
In 1824 John Goss traveled by horseback from Baltimore to Nashville. The earliest ad for his cabinetmaking business is from 1830 (see the top figure). Goss’ advertisements are a good example of the “cradle to grave” services carpenters and cabinetmakers offered to the public. The last line in the illustration at top is, “N.B. He has also prepared himself to make with great dispatch the last article to which his fellow-men requires on this side of eternity.”
His 1831 ad included a promise to charge Cincinnati prices and in N.B. “A hearse shall be kept in rediness at all times.”
In an ad from 1837 the end-of-life service is again noted.
Eastern Styles Made Here
A cabinetmaker’s ad often pointed out their ability to make furniture in the styles of the large Eastern cities. They were up against furniture dealers importing and advertising furniture from New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and eventually Cincinnati.
You Made How Much ?
Where possible, Ellen Beasley matched a craftman’s ad to productivity information from the 1820 Census of Manufacturers. James S. Bridges was a chairmaker in Knoxville. An ad from August 1819 advises the public he has opened for business. At the end of his ad is a list of the shops’ productivity as found in the census (“Do” means ditto) and the census taker’s alternate spelling for chairs.
In the case of James Bridges we learn the types of chairs made in his shop.
Cabinetmaker John Ashton was located in Hawkins County in the northeast corner of the state. Without this bit of information from the 1820 Census we might not know of him.
Fine & Tasty Language
Many ads have similar language, likely the terms used were copy suggested by the newspaper. Mr. N. Bell, cabinetmaker of Lebanon, seems to have written his own copy and boldly claims you don’t have to go to the big city for fine tasty furniture.
A Bedstead Patentee
Many patents were issued that addressed the stability and comfort of bedsteads. Henry Boyd worked on improving the fastening of the rails to the vertical posts. A Thomas Early patent dealt with attaching bed curtains (one part of the whole range of bed clothes), a necessity in poorly heated bedrooms.
A Feud Between Chairmakers & a Forger Reported
When business slowed down it was a good idea to remind the public that you were still in business and where you could be found. In October 1810, Charle M’Karahan let everyone know he was still making chairs, and he could be found at the easy-to-remember location opposite the new jail.
John Priest set up his chairmaking business a couple years before M’Karahan. Here is his 1809 woodblock-print ad announcing his business. Nancy Goyne Evans included this image in her publications on Windsor chairs.
It seems within a year of M’Karahan settling in he had a disagreement with Priest over money. The feud was settled in court in December 1811 and Priest, with much apparent gloating, paid for an ad to let the public know.
About a year later Priest gave up chairmaking in Nashville and resorted to cabinetmaking.
M’Karahan continued to work in Nashville and issued a public service announcement in early 1813 warning that another chairmaker was a forger.
Malicious Mischief & Murder by Cabinetmakers
Chairmakers will be relieved to know they, so far, were not the worst in the furniture world, at least in Tennessee, and before the year 1840.
Malicious mischief is the willful destruction of property, either public or owned by another person. Phineas, with his rascally countenance and apparent lack of contrition, had no intention of staying behind bars and broke jail. I hope they caught him.
A nasty piece of work, is (was) this Kinchen Wilborn. When apprehended, he was well into Arkansas Territory (statehood was in 1836) and traveled almost 250 miles. The slippery scoundrel escaped and we don’t know if he was ever caught.
Marriage & Misdirection
Let’s throw in a turner for some comic relief. Ferdinand Rienman, a turner in Nashville, announced his wedding to Miss Susannah Rule via poetry. Clever.
Ulysses G. Smith, printer and cabinetmaker, took a different approach to marriage. He married Miss Rosannah Mc’Affy on February 1, 1827, with the newspaper announcement on February 7. One week later he ran an ad announcing he had taken over the establishment formerly occupied by his father-in-law, Terrence Mc’Affry, also a cabinetmaker.
Mc’Affry was well-known and respected in Knoxville. He had been in business as a cabinetmaker for about 27 years. Smith’s announcement took him unawares. He soon responded to Ulysses Smith’s claim in another ad.
Wait, there’s more! Mc’Affry, aged “upwards of 60 years” died in April 1830, with the report of his funeral in the April 14 edition of the Knoxville Register. A week earlier, in the same newspaper, it was reported Mc’Affry’s daughter sued Ulysses Smith for divorce. Oh, poor Ulysses, Rosannah chose not to be your Penelope.
Kudos to Ellen Beasley for matching up the juicy details of this cabinetmaker soap opera.
Cherry & Walnut Wanted
A good way to find out what woods were used by cabinetmakers and chairmakers in a particular area is to find this type of ad.
Runaway
Advertisements for runaway apprentices and enslaved servants were common. This ad, for an enslaved craftsman and two others, is notable for the large reward and the description of Perimus. He was obviously skilled and well-regarded by Burchett.
On the other hand, after an escape the usual course of action was to question and punish other enslaved in order to find out where the runaways were headed. Dyer County is in the far western part of Tennessee, north of Memphis. The runaways had a long and perilous journey to reach freedom.
At the Sign of the Large Chair
I have a particular fondness for signs depicting the article made and for sale within a shop. Big shoes, big lock and keys, big fish and so on. Did Isaac Barton have a chair painted on a sign or an actual large chair suspended from an iron support? Also, exactly how big was this large chair?
I’m Still Here
At the end of the year, a weary “I’m still here” is a sentiment many of us might feel, while others might lean towards surprised consternation. As for Mr. William Young, considering Shelbyville was not a one-horse town, including your location in your advertisement would have been a good idea.
N.B. Ellen Beasley’s work in digging up the advertisements for cabinetmakers and chairmakers before 1840 was a gargantuan task. It required many hours of travel throughout Tennessee to search through physical editions of newspapers, newspapers on microfilm and microfiche and deciphering the handwriting of the 1820 census takers. After working in Tennessee she continued her research work in Texas and in 1984 was named a Loeb Fellow at Harvard’s Graduate School of Design.
– Suzanne Ellison
Today marks the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year and the longest night. Last year I wrote a short story, “The Long Night” for this blog. If you would like to read, or reread, the story you can find it here.
Superb! Your comments were as entertaining as the bits and snippets you wrote about!