Nella Fontaine Binckley: "Odds and Ends from an Artist's Life," Chapter VII, Part 4

French Market Levee. Barracks Card, 1888. New Orleans (Wiki Commons)

[Nella Fontaine Binckley, "Odds and Ends from an Artist's Life," Chapter VII, part 4. From a transcription annotated by Patricia D'Arcy Binckley of typewritten original, February 25, 2005. Original "written some time after 1941 by Nellie F. Binckley, 1860-1950 or 51." Notes in brackets are mine, unless followed by the initials "P.D.B." Occasionally, additional paragraph breaks inserted for easier reading. 

Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy, Sally Young and Sue Davis for their ongoing research collaboration; specifically to William for providing a scan of the original document, and in turn many thanks to Peter Binckley and Patricia D'Arcy "Trish" Binckley (1951-2007), at the source.]

A wealthy man, whom I had met at Alleghany Springs and who had bought several of my pictures, now sent me a photo of a favorite horse and wanted me to make a painting from it. I practically rode that horse to New Orleans.

I'd always wanted to see that city and thought I'd probably never be that near again. So I took the money for that picture and made a little trip down to the Crescent city. 

Aunt Sue knew a lady there, Mrs. Lemmon, of a distinguished family who kept a very exclusive boarding-house on St. Charles Street where I could stay. In those days a Southern gentlewoman who found it necessary to support herself could do but two things. She could teach, if she were competent. If not, there was but one alternative. Southern women were usually notable housewives, so she could keep a boarding-house.

When I got on the train for New Orleans, I had [taken] a lower berth and the Pullman conductor turned out to be a young man. He was very polite. He told me that if no one had taken the drawing room by dark, he was allowed to give it as usual rates and he'd then give me the drawing room.  

No one took it so he ushered me in, and I traveled in such state as I'd never known before. But his attentions were so profuse and he regaled me with the story of his life, and I became much bored. I finally got rid of him by saying I had to write a letter. I wrote one to Aunt Sue, and in it told about the absurd conductor and how ridiculous he'd made himself. He was hovering around and offered to mail the letter for me, assuring me that he'd be on hand next morning to help me off the train.

I woke about daylight next morning and looked out my window at the most enchanting scene. The train seemed to be running along the surface of Lake Ponchartrain [Pontchartrain]. There must have been a causeway under the water, but it didn't show at all. In the sky the silver sickle of a moon in its last quarter.  When we reached New Orleans a few hours later, the conductor, to my relief, did not appear. As I got off I caught a glimpse of him in the distance, but he promptly turned his back when he saw me. I [chuckled] to myself. He had evidently read my letter. 

I met some very nice young men at Mrs. Lemmon's and they took me around sightseeing. I had a wonderful time in that fascinating old city. 

There was a charming Englishman named Nicholls, and a picturesque young Mexican named Arturo Paz. I had never met a Mexican before, and was much intrigued by his gorgeous dark eyes -- like a deer's eyes. But his only idea for entertaining a girl was to make love to her in the most poetical and extravagant way -- not at all convincing. (Evidently not meant to be). 

Then there were several nice young Americans. And there was one American of a different type. A cousin of Mrs. Lemmon's came to call one evening and I met him. He was a very handsome man, dark, about forty, [with languid] manners and a superior air.  Considered very eligible, No doubt spoiled by feminine adulation. He was called Colonel, but I don't know that he was ever in the Army. When a gentleman in the Deep South gets along in his thirties, he automatically becomes a Colonel. I was accustomed to men making some effort to be agreeable. When he just sat there expecting to be entertained, I too just sat there expecting to be entertained. So nothing happened. Impasse. Mrs. Lemmon had gone out for a moment and looked surprised when she returned to find a dead silence.

I loved the French Quarter with its lacelike ironwork and its verandas on every story of the houses -- they call them galleries there. It looked so [incredible] to see bananas growing on trees and oranges growing on trees, too. And live orange blossoms! I never saw any but artificial ones before. 

One of the men took me out to Spanish Fort. He got me a brick of ice cream and one for himself. (This was before the day of cones.) I never saw one before, nor did he, being a Northern man. So we didn't know how to manage it. We should have opened the paper wrapper at one end. But we opened it half way down, with disastrous results. The grass got most of it.

I did not have time for the French Market, but saw it after all. As I started back to La Grange [LaGrange], our train got as far as the French Market and was held up by a train wreck farther up the road. We stood there for several hours till the tracks were cleared. Passengers got out and walked around in the market. And I think every one of us bought a whole bunch of bananas. Our car racks were choked with them. But they came in very handy to eat, our train being so late.

Banana Trees in bloom in New Orleans in 1880s. George Francois Mugnier

[Ellen/Nellie/Nella Fontaine Binckley (September 1, 1860-April 27, 1951). Family names and dates were whimsically tweaked by their owners during their lifetime, adding mystery and sometimes causing confusion. For Binckley's "Artist's Life," I'm opting for the artist's full signature name, Nella Fontaine Binckley.

Aunt Sue = Sue Henry Mitchell/Michel Taliaferro (1845-1940).
Mrs. Lemmon = not sure who this is yet. Contemporary newspapers mention a Mrs. Lemmon "of California," and Mrs. Lemmon connected to cultural events in New Orleans. Remotely possible connection to: The John and Sara (Plummer) Lemmon papers, 1863-1911 | University and Jepson Herbaria Archives, University of California, Berkeley. Link here.]

Nella Fontaine Binckley: "Odds and Ends from an Artist's Life," Chapter VII, Part 3

Nella Fontaine Binckley, mid-1880s. Julius Lindsay Schaub, LaGrange, Georgia

[Nella Fontaine Binckley, "Odds and Ends from an Artist's Life," Chapter VII, part 3. From a transcription annotated by Patricia D'Arcy Binckley of typewritten original, February 25, 2005. Original "written some time after 1941 by Nellie F. Binckley, 1860-1950 or 51." Notes in brackets are mine, unless followed by the initials "P.D.B." Occasionally, additional paragraph breaks inserted for easier reading. 

Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy, Sally Young and Sue Davis for their ongoing research collaboration; specifically to William for providing a scan of the original document, and in turn many thanks to Peter Binckley and Patricia D'Arcy "Trish" Binckley (1951-2007), at the source.]

That fall I took a position as art teacher in a Methodist college for girls in La Grange, Georgia. Three of us young teachers shared a huge bedroom. Ella Pond, the music teacher was from Boston. She and I were accustomed to warm rooms in winter. But here the ceiling was lofty, the windows very large -- and loose. And the only heat was a tiny grate. We nearly froze, and got dreadful colds. Stella was the third, but she was indigenous to the soil and didn't mind. She was a very quiet girl and I've forgotten her family name and what she taught.

The President of the college, Dr. Heidt, was a good natured jolly sort of man and we all liked him. Being a Methodist, he disapproved of dancing. But the young men of the town got around that by calling their dancing parties "sociables!" I always had a shrewd suspicion that he was not in the least fooled, but in the kindness of his heart winked at it.

They had very nice dances. The musicians were all colored of course, a fiddle or two and a guitar and always a banjo. Don't imagine that a fiddle is the same thing as a violin. Not at all. They may look alike, but in the capable hands of a darkey, the music is an altogether different thing. And it's the perfect music for square dances. One darkey would call out the figures according to his own fancy and hugely enjoyed doing it.They entered into the spirit of it as I don't think white people could ever do. 

The youngsters of the present day don't know how much fun square dances are. The quadrille was a gay and lively dance, the figures called out. The lancers, on the contrary was a slow and stately affair, no calling out, as the figures were always the same and everybody knew them. The Southern balls always had half the programme square dances. The round dances were the waltz, the polka and an occasional schottische. The Highland schottische was a little different [and] very pretty. In La Grange, a nice young fellow named Dixie always got them to play the Highland schottische and he and I danced it. Nobody else seemed to know it, so we had the floor to ourselves while everybody looked on. All balls invariably wound up with the Virginia reel, an even more rollicking dance than the quadrille.

Down there in the [Deep] South, serenading was customary. Not like the Spanish and Mexican serenades, which were solo affairs. In La Grange the young men would bring along several darkey musicians who would play beneath the window of the lady, or ladies. We had serenades several times under our windows. The ladies so honored were supposed to wave a handkerchief from their window. In private houses, I believe refreshments were generally offered to the serenaders by servants, or men of the household. The ladies, of course, did not appear.

During the winter a gentleman I had met in Salem -- older than the young men I knew there -- was passing on his way to New Orleans and stopped off in La Grange to call on me. I took Ella down to the parlour with me, of course. We had those awful colds, and he told us his way of curing a cold. He'd get a bottle of whiskey, lock himself in his hotel room, drink it and go to bed. In the morning his cold was gone. We were impressed.

Next day, feeling pretty desperate, we decided we'd like to try it. It was a local option town, but we learned we could get some at the drug store, especially as we knew the clerk. We went there after school, coughed piteously, and he sold us a flask. I imagine it was about half a pint. We didn't know, being inexperienced. That evening we divided it into two glasses. Stella had no cold, so got none. Besides, in case the house burned down in the night it was necessary to have someone able to drag us out, as we expected to be utterly incompetent ourselves. Ella was a few years older than I and knew how to fix the glasses up with water and sugar to make the stuff palatable. I had never tasted whiskey, except once as a medicine when I had a chill and Mother dosed me.

There was a big round table in our room and we sat there and drank it. Ella drank hers right down but I sipped mine. It seemed to take hold pretty promptly. It was not long before Stella and I ceased to get any response from Ella. Then she slumped, her head on the table, and went to sleep. Meanwhile, my head had become very buzzy and I had a conviction that I had better not try to walk. But my mind was perfectly clear. We thought Ella had better get to bed, so Stella, with a little help from me (not much) got her there. There were two big beds in the room, Stella had one and Ella and I had the other. There were four pillows on our bed. Ella got partly awake as she was pushed into bed on the nearest side. She piled three pillows under her head and this propping her up considerably, put the other pillow on her chest. Then she stretched out her arm and drowsily requested, "Gimme 'nother pillow!" 

She looked so funny that we were in fits of laughter. Stella said "you ought to make a sketch of her, Nel" adding derisively, "but I suppose you're too drunk to do it." "No, I'm not!" I declared. I pulled open the drawer, got out paper and pencil, and made the sketch. (I have it still.) Ella and I, fearing we might be incapacitated later, had prudently undressed and donned our robes de nuit. So, when Stella's back was turned, I seized the opportunity and managed to negotiate the short distance to the bed, crawled in and immediately went to sleep. When I woke the next morning I learned that poor Stella had been up all night with Ella, who had been very sick. It did actually cure our colds, but I wouldn't recommend it.

One of the young men who used to call on us, a young lawyer named Gaffney, was joking with me about law and offered to lend me a copy of Blackstone to read. He did. When I was ready to return it, (I can't say I had read it) I looked in the back of it where there were forms for various deeds, but couldn't find anything to fit the case. However, I got a sheet of legal cap and made out a "Deed of Return," filling it all in and sent it to him with the book. He told me afterward it was all perfectly legal and he had filed it at the courthouse. I presume it's still there.

At one of the sociables, some of the girls had [taken] a notion to powder their hair. I powdered mine, and with a pink dress and a tiny black patch of court plaster placed at a strategic point on my cheek, it was very becoming. But afterwards! For several days I was brushing out that powder and going around gray haired.

All winter Ella had been making disparaging remarks about the shiftless ways of Southerners, gates hanging on one hinge, etc. With her New England energy and neatness it was shocking to her. But I told her up North people had to be energetic to keep warm in that climate. In the Spring, when it turned terribly hot, poor Ella wilted completely. After her teaching was done, all she could do was to lie in the bed and wave a palm leaf fan -- feebly. She said she took back everything she had said about Southerners. She declared every gate might be off the hinges and she'd never be able to fix them in that climate. Or care whether they were fixed or not.   

Smith Hall, LaGrange College (Wiki Commons)

[Ellen/Nellie/Nella Fontaine Binckley (September 1, 1860-April 27, 1951). Family names and dates were whimsically tweaked by their owners during their lifetime, adding mystery and sometimes causing confusion. For Binckley's "Artist's Life," I'm opting for the artist's full signature name, Nella Fontaine Binckley.

Ella, Nella and Stella = Ella Pond of Boston, Nella Fontaine Binckley, and Stella of Georgia.

La Grange = LaGrange, Georgia.
Dr. Heidt = John Wesley Heidt (1841-1909) served as president of LaGrange College from 1880 to 1885.]

Mary Louisa Mitchell Binckley: Santa Rosa, California, Public Library, 1884-1890

Santa Rosa City Hall including Library (arrow) and Fire Department, circa 1888*

Santa Rosa Press Democrat, Number 22, August 9, 1890:

CITY HEWS. Report of the Santa Rosa Public Library. FULL HISTORY OF THE INSTITUTION

The books were stored until the present Library was permanently established under the auspices of the first elected Library Trustees, in the New City Hall, May 26, 1884. The board consisted of the following named gentlemen: Col. Mark L. McDonald, President; Judge Geo. A. Johnson, Melville Dozier, Robt. A. Thompson, A. W. Riley. Only organisation was perfected at this meeting.

June 20, 1884, Mrs. Binckley was elected the first Librarian, at a salary of $25 per month.

Passing over one special meeting a session was held July 29, 1884, when by reason of permanent departure, Mr. Melville Hosier resigned, and Mr. R. A. King was elected to fill his place. Also at this meeting a draft for $59.75 was donated by the former library association.

Dec. 9, 1884, was consummated the first purchase of books, numbering 431 volumes, and costing $410.

January 26, 1885, fourteen periodicals were added, costing $45. At this time $35 was received from the High School Literary Society entertainment, given for the benefit of the Public Library.

The first annual report was made to your honorable body July 1, 1885. 

Nov. 13, 1885, the Librarian’s salary was increased to $35 per month. 

From this time on, until Nov. 1, 1887, only the regular routine business of the Trustees was transacted, a few books being purchased and donations made of money from entertainments given by the people of the city, notably one under the management of Miss Martha Chase, at the Athenaeum, entitled “Old Folks’ Concert,” whereby $123.85 was realized and turned into the fund. The next large purchase of books being made from C. A. Wright, costing $924.75.

April 15, 1887, $400 worth of walnut shelving was purchased.

May 27, 1887, the Librarian's salary was increased to $40 per month.

June 16, 1888, another invoice of books was purchased, costing $320.25.

In August, 1888, the Knights of Pythias gave an entertainment for the benefit of the Library entitled “Damon and Pythias,” realizing $41.70 from the same.

Sept. 28, 1888, the first insurance on the library was made with Walter Davis, for $l,000 for three years. From this date on many periodicals and books have been added, singly and in groups, by purchases and donations from citizens, and also by having periodicals bound.

April 6, 1889, and Feb. 24, 1890, books costing respectively $215 and $289.50 were added.

In April, 1890, the present Trustees, entirely new, took their seats. On the 15th of the same month Miss Bertha Kumli was elected Librarian and began to discharge the duties of that office May 1, 1890.

Preparatory to an annual house-cleaning, no books were issued for two weeks after May 1, 1890.

On Monday, June 2, the Library was reopened to the public. In the meantime the room was thoroughly cleaned; the carpet had been taken up and replaced by a new one; the walls kalsomined; a railing made around the Librarian’s office; awnings placed over the skylights, and shades underneath the same.

The sofa had been recovered and another book case added. Over two hundred new books which had been ordered by the last board placed on the shelves, also a large and valuable collection of Senate and Assembly Journals, donated by the Hon. J. W. Ragsdale.

Books with leaves missing were discarded and about one hundred and fifty laid aside to be repaired or rebound.

A list was taken of the books in the Library and those of travel, biography, history, science, poetry and miscellaneous essays were labeled on the back and numbered [using the Dewey Decimal system], so as to conveniently keep them in a given place on the shelves.

Following is a statement of the receipts and expenditures from July 1, 1889, to July 1, 1890:

RECEIPTS. Balance on hand, July 1, 1889:   $577.96

Received, Dec 3, '89, apportionment of taxes 1,079 25

Received from Knigts of Pythias 41.70

from county tax and flues. 42.35

from sale of old carpet 14 00

Total $1,755 20

EXPENDITURES. Books and periodicals $410.88

Salary 480.00

Library expenses 390.10

Balance in hands of City Treasurer 474.28

Total  $1,755.26

The Library is open week days, excepting Saturdays, from 1 to 5 and 7 to 9 p. M.; Saturdays, from 10 to 12 a. m., 1 to 5 and 7 to 9 p. m.

Since May 1, 1890, it has been kept open Sunday from 2:30 to 6 p, m.

The attendance during the year is as follows:

July, 1889, 1,260; August, 1,470; September, 960; October, 1,392; November, 1,443; December, 1,425; January, 1890, 1,612: February, 1,347; March, 1,439; April, 1,185; May, NA, June, 2,220; total for eleven months, 15,753; average per month, 1,432.

The number of books issued during the year is given below: July, 1889, 1,075; August, 944; September, 864; October, 1,044 r November, 1,082; December, 1,069; January, 1890, 1,209; February, 1,013; March, 1,057; April, 948; May, ; June, 959; total for eleven mouths, 11,264; average number per month, 1,024,

CLASSES OP BOOKS ISSUED. Fiction, 7,474; juvenile fiction, 2,105; history, 324; biography, 136; travel, 292; science, 161; poetry, 131; essays, 398; miscellaneous, 243; total, 11,264.

BOOKS IN LIBRARY JULY 1, 1890. Fiction, 863; juvenile, 204; history, 310; travel, 69; biography, 239; essays, 308; science, 147; poetry, 77; reference, 102; public documents, etc., 625; miscellaneous, 83: total, 3,032.

The following periodicals are to be found on the tables: Dailies—Daily Democrat (donated), Daily Republican (donated), 8. F. Bulletin, S. F. Chronicle, 8. F. Examiner. Weeklies— American Sentinel (donated), Argonaut, Engineering News. Harper’s Weekly, Harper’s Bazaar, Harper's Young People, Heraldsburg Enterprise (two copies, donated), Life, The Nation, Petaluma Courier (two copies, donated), Mendocino Beacon (donated), Pacific Methodist (donated), Pacific Lumberman, Contractor, etc. (donated), Sonoma Democrat (donated), Sonoma Tribune (donated), Sebas[t]opol Times (donated), Signs of the Times (donated), Scientific American, World, Weekly Argue (donated). Monthlies Atlantic, Book Chat (2 copies) Century, Forum, Harper’s, Popular Science, St. Nicholas.

The Board is endeavoring to administer the affairs of the Library with such due regard to economy as is consistent with a good return for the money expended. The income is derived from a tax levy on all taxable property not to exceed ten cents on each hundred dollars of the value of all real and personal property. ast year the library tax was three cents.

In conclusion the Board desires to express that feeling of gratitude to your honorable body, which consists of a lively sense of favors to come. Respectfully submitted,

Thos. L. Thompson, Pres.,

W. C. Hill, Sec’y.,

M. M. Shearer, M.D.,

George Lewis,

H. C. Crowder, M.D.

[Mary Louisa Mitchell/Mitchell Binckley (1838-1930) 
Santa Rosa, Sonoma County, California, had a population nearing 5,000 at the time; in 2016, it is closer to 175,000] 

*Group of firefighters standing at attention in front of the City of Santa Rosa City Hall, located on Hinton Avenue between Third and Fourth Streets, circa 1890. Full photo at Sonomo County Library Photograph Collection here.

Many thanks to Jeff Elliott, publisher of Santa Rosa History (he has another version of the above photo here), especially for referring me to Katherine J. Rinehart, M.A., Manager, History & Genealogy, Sonoma County Library, 211 E Street, Santa Rosa, CA 95404; thanks to her for help with initial local research, and the California Digital Newspaper Collection project, and also William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their assistance. 

Joseph E. Johnston Visits Santa Rosa, California, July 16, 1887

[Sonoma Democrat, July 19, 1887, page 1]:

A Distinguished Visitor.

General Joseph E. Johnston, distinguished for his valor in the Confederate army, and later complimented by the government of his country by an appointment as United States Railroad Commissioner, under the present administration, spent Saturday [July 16, 1887] in Santa Rosa, the guest of his niece, Mrs. Binckley, the librarian, and Judge Porter, who served under his command during the war. The General was in command of the Army of Northern Virginia until the battle of Seven Pines, where he was wounded. He subsequently commanded the army of the West and again the army of Virginia at the time of Lee's surrender. He was met at the Public Library rooms between the hours of twelve and one o'clock by a number of our prominent citizens, whose pleasure it was to own a previous acquaintance with the honored old soldier. Mrs. Binckley was ably seconded in her efforts to entertain her distinguished relative by Judge Porter and family and friends. He was accompanied by Major R. P. Hammond, and went from here to Glen Ellen this afternoon. 

[Joseph Eggleston Johnston (1807-1891)

Mary Louisa Mitchell/Mitchell Binckley (1838-1930)

Judge Porter = William Wood Porter (1826-1907), who had served on Johnston's staff

Santa Rosa, Sonoma County, California, had a population nearing 5,000 at the time; in 2016, it is closer to 175,000]

Many thanks to Katherine J. Rinehart, M.A., Manager, History & Genealogy, Sonoma County Library, 211 E Street, Santa Rosa, CA 95404 for her help in finding and emailing a scanned copy of the original article, and also to William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their assistance.