Mrs. Ella Moses – Drypigment.net

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 1137: Thomas G. Moses and Harry E. Naile, 1922

At the beginning of 1922 Thomas G. Moses was working in Tacoma, painting scenery for the Scottish Rite. Of the project, he wrote, “Harry Naile showed up the latter part of February. We then started to get things into the Temple and it began to look like a job. I did a picture of Jerusalem for the asbestos curtain, and it came out very good…On the completion of our contract and on the eve of our departure, the trustees gave us a dinner in our honor, which was attended by Harry Naile, it was very fine – we certainly felt honored….completed our work on April 1^st, got all settled and with Naile and the Madam, we started south. Enjoyed the trip very much; had two days in San Francisco, then took the boat for Stockton. On our arrival, we found the large hotel was laboring under the delusion of war rates. So, we found a small apartment, very nicely furnished, and we certainly enjoyed it. Naile had good accommodations at a small hotel.” Moses and Naile were traveling from one project to another. This had remained the standard practice at Sosman & Landis from the beginning; a scenic artist and carpenter were paired for most on site projects. Occasionally, if a job required more hands, a second scenic artists was sent on site. For Moses, this was frequently Ed Loitz. However, stage carpenter’s such as Naile also filled in as the primary scenic artist’s assistant after the construction was completed and a second set of hands was needed on site. This speaks to the versatility of the Sosman & Landis stage carpenters at the time.

Harry Elmore Naile worked as a carpenter and assistant to Moses from 1922-1925. I have yet to determine how long he worked at Sosman & Landis in that capacity, but he was repeatedly mentioned in Moses Memoirs at this time. Projects in addition to the Tacoma Scottish Rite completed by Naile included the Binghamton Scottish Rite (1923) and the Pasadena Scottish Rite (1925). In Binghamton, it was Moses, Loitz and Naile. Of the project, Moses wrote, “I got settled at the Marion Hotel, Loitz and Naile got quarters up near the Temple.” Basically, Moses showed up to painter, while Loitz and Naile prepared everything for his arrival. Moses had specifically asked to work with Naile in 1923. In regard to the Binghamton project, he wrote, “I insisted on having Naile on the job, so Hunt allowed me to send for him. He and Mrs. Naile arrived on the 1^st of October and we then proceeded to get things going.”

For larger projects, local labor was added as needed. So, in Binghamton, Naile hired a crew. You see, Moses was painting a variety of scenery at the Binghamton Scottish Rite, including drops destined for Eldorado and Wichita. Of this group, Moses wrote, “Naile and his men are not giving me full service and I am getting desperate, as to my ability to pull the contract through with profit.”

Born on June 15, 1879, he was the son of Mary Elizabeth Orr (1854-1900) and Louis Phillip Naile (1855-1918); one of four children born to the couple. His siblings were Roy (1886-?), Grace (1891-?), and Ralph ( 1897-1958). His father was a house carpenter who later remarried after the death of his first, so there is also a half-sister, Loretta (1908-?).

Harry grew up in Pierceton, Indiana. He met and married Georgia E. Robinson (b. 28 Jan. 1888) 1907. Georgia was the only child of William W. Robinson (1863-1926) and Mary A. “Mamie” Rogers (1869-1954), born in Kansas. Her father was a painter, and likely the link that connected Harry and Georgia. On June 1, 1907, the couple tied the knot in Colorado Springs, with Edgar W. Work performing the ceremony. He was twenty-seven years old at the time, and Georgia was only nineteen years old. Interesting fact: Colorado required the grooms to be over 21 years old when applying for a marriage license, but the brides needed to be only eighteen years old. Regardless, the couple spent much of their marriage apart, with Harry lodging in various hotels and boarding houses for work. The 1913 Polk County directory listed “Naile, Harry E. (Georgia), removed to Chicago, Illinois.

His 1918 draft registration card listed Harry as the stage mechanic for the Chateau Theatre at 3810 Broadway in Chicago, living at 514 E. 42^nd Street. His was described at 5’-7” tall, with a slender build and blue eyes. Interestingly, no hair color was listed; the first omission that I have encountered to date.

In 1920, he was lodging with several theatrical performers at 57 East Van Buren Street in South Town Chicago. I have yet to track down where Georgia was living at this time, or if she returned to stay with her parents when he was on the road. The couple had no children, so it was not as if she needed to stay in any one place for long. When opportunity presented itself, she also traveled with her husband, such as to Binghamton, New York.

By 1925, Moses and Nail were working at the Scottish Rite Theatre in Pasadena, California. The Pasadena Scottish Rite had purchased a used scenery collection that needed to be touched-up, supplemented, and installed. Nail was in charge of both the used stage machinery and scenery installation. Of the work, Moses wrote, “Harry Naile is coming along with his work fairly well, and we will finish on time without a doubt.” Naile was also mentioned in “Pasadena Evening Post.” The article reported, “The final work of hanging and installing the curtains will be under the supervision of Harry Naile, a member of the Sosman & Landis company. This work demands such expert workmanship that Mr. Naile was brought form Chicago so that no mistake in installation could be made” (Pasadena Evening Post, 14 Feb. 1925, page 16).

After the Pasadena Scottish Rite project, Moses and Nail worked in San Jose. Of the project, Moses wrote, “I started for San Jose on March 27^th and found Naile had everything in good shape.” They then worked in Los Angeles on the Fullerton job. That was the last mention of Naile in Moses’ memoirs, and I have located no mention of Naile in the newspapers during the remainder of the decade.

By 1930, Naile was living at the Kenomore Beach Hotel, 552 Kenmore Avenue, in Chicago. The 1930 US Federal Census listed Naile as a superintendent for a theatrical supply company, although it remains unclear as to which firm. He died shortly after the US Federal census recorded his employment.

Naile passed away on September 15, 1930. He was only fifty years old at the time and had been married to Georgia for twenty-three years. I have yet to locate any death notice or obituary, giving any cause for his passing.

Georgia was left a widow at forty-six years old and never remarried. She lost her father only four years earlier. Her mother also lived a long life, remaining a widow for almost three decades. I believe that Georgia returned to Colorado Springs where she lived with her mother. Georgia was a widow for forty-five years.

Of Georgia’s own passing the “Gazette Telegraph” in Colorado Springs reported, “Naile- Mrs. Georgia Naile, 2612 W. Cucharras, passed away Tuesday at a local nursing home. Arrangements later” (12 March 1975, page 4).

Both Georgia and Harry are buried in Colorado Springs’ Evergreen Cemetery.

*The final resting place of Harry and Georgia Maile in Colorado Springs, Colorado.*

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 1085 – Brackenridge Park, San Antonio, 1921

In 1921 Thomas G. Moses was working in Dallas, Texas, at the new Majestic Theatre. His wife Ella was able to accompany him on the nine-week southern trip; there were ample opportunities for sighting seeing and sketching trips. That spring, Moses wrote, “A short trip to San Antonio was thoroughly enjoyed by both of us. It was a very interesting place, being so close to Mexico. It has taken over many ideas in buildings and costumes. One place we enjoyed more than the others was the large Brackenridge Park, which was built in a Stone Quarry. Made several sketches.”

Japanese Garden in Brackenridge Park, 1921 postcard.

Brackenridge park made headlines that year, as American newspapers focused on the success of San Antonio’s various beautification projects and park system. The “Central New Jersey Home News” reported, “How City Officials Beautified San Antonio by Unique Methods” (New Brunswick, NJ, 22 May 1921, page 11). The article noted, “Once in a thousand years you find a person who possesses the gift of making much form little or nothing. Sometimes it is a woman who can make a stylish dress from a piece of great grandmother’s shawl and a yard of ribbon, in San Antonio it was Ray Lambert who made Breckenridge [sic.] Park blossom like the rose – the whole rose bush, indeed – and did it so economically that people still ask – ‘how did he do it?’”

The “Dearborn Independent” also included an article on the park entitled, “Texan’s Magic Has Brought Beauty to City” (Dearborn, Michigan, April 16, 1921, page 6). It provided a little more information about the man behind the mission – J. R. Lambert. Here is an interesting section from the article, as it gives some history:

“San Antonio was a wide-open town and J. R. Lambert on of the best known bar keeps. Situated within 150 miles of the Mexican border, within easy access of vast stretches of plains and prairies where wandered countless herds of Texas long and shorthorns, San Antonio drew to her bosom the sons of wild and wild stretches. Here they came to take a chance at faro or the cards and drink whisky straight. In the midst of this oasis was J. R. Lambert’s saloon and he stood behind the baar and served the spirit-loving throngs.

“Before he became a barkeep Lambert was a stone mason. He saved his money and finally accumulated enough cash to buy the saloon. Like many of his kind in those days Lambert also became interested in politics. Politics and the saloon were bed-mates before the Eighteenth Amendment went into effect. His power became felt in local election. He was a man to be reckoned with in any local issue that was decided at the polls. His saloon grew more and more prominent as Lambert extended his political power.

“There came a mayoralty campaign in San Antonio. It was a biter contest and after the votes were counted Lambert’s candidate was a declared the winner. And then Lambert, who had exacted no political reward before, demanded one, He insisted on being appointed commissioner of parks and plazas of the city of San Antonio. Since the mayor was morally bound to give Lambert any political appointment he demanded, because of his services at the polls, he had to comply. This he did reluctantly. There was much protesting, much agitation, much denouncing. Giving a job like commissioner of parks and plazas to a saloonkeeper was preposterous. Much in the way of political graft had probably been attempted in San Antonio, but this was too bold, too brazen, too horrid. The public wrath grew, the flame of public indignation swelled and the mayo was denounced along with Lambert. But the mayor was firm and Lambert kept his peace. The tumult subsided as such tumults always do. Lambert sold his saloon and settled himself in a downstairs corner of the city hall and went to work.

“Today J. Raymond Lambert, or Ray Lambert, is the biggest man, as far as could be learned in one month’s time, in San Antonio. Forty-six parks and plazas within the city limits testify to his greatness. In the opinion of the writer he is the most efficient city official in the country today.

Lambert has been commissioner of parks and plazas of San Antonio for a number of years and he will probably be able to continue as commissioner just as long as he cares to. During all this time he has worked within his power, regardless of time, energy, personal hardships and self-denials and to save as much money for the public as possible. In both he has been brilliantly successful.

San Antonio has her Missions and her Alamo, ‘the cradle of Texas liberty.’ San Antonio has her old churches, a wonderful country club and beautiful residential sections, but if you ask the average San Antonian what point he considers of most importance and interest he will answer immediately, ‘Brackenridge Park. Have you seen the Japanese Gardens there?”

“Brackenridge Park is the palace ground of San Antonio’s 46 parks and plazas , and the sunken Japanese Garden the palace. Of the 592 acres that are included in park and plaza allotments, Brackenridge Park is big and complete, a remarkable city playground, but the Japanese Gardens lift it to fame and the history of the gardens shows the creative genius of Lambert.

When Lambert became commissioner of parks and plazas, Brackenridge Park was little more than a larger tract of waste land. It had few possibilities. Many landscape gardeners would have passed it up. Some of the experts said it would never do as a park. It contained an abandoned stone quarry and a garbage incinerating plant, also abandoned. It presented a dismal aspect. Not only was a large portion an eyesore, but most repulsive.

“Lambert gathered his laborers and got busy. He dismantled the garbage plant and tore it down. He saved every part of it, stone and all. After everything was piled up neatly, he sent his army of laborers into the stone quarry and hauled out al the loose stone that remained. The quarry cleared, he began building and after much hard work the Japanese Gardens were created and the disgusting eyesore became a thing of unparalleled beauty in way of landscape gardening.

In this garden are Japanese houses built of stone, lily ponds and flower beds, rustic Japanese bridges and tropical foliage. There are fishponds and shaded nooks. Stone steps wind down into the gardens and the gardens are spotted with the same kind of steps and benches.

“The stone house, the large one, was built of the loose stones picked up in the quarry. They also served for the steps and the benches.

“The stones, now fast, line the lily ponds, and the quaint fishponds with their rare goldfish were made from the dilapidated vats found in the incinerating plant. The roof of the bog house is made of thatched palm leaves. There are many palm trees in San Antonio. You find them in all the parks and plazas. Lambert had his men collect then and, instead of destroying them, they were hauled to the Japanese Garden where they served for roofing. It is said that the only expense of the garden, outside of labor, was for wire used in attaching the palm fronds. And the quaint-looking steeple at one edge of the garden, the one covered with vines and looking so artistic in the distance? Why, that was the chimney of the incinerating plant, the only part of the plant that Lambert left standing when he dismantled the building. At night the gardens are lighted with thousands of globes and to view this spot from a place that was once the edge of the stone quarry, gives a sight that will be long remembered.”

There is a fantastic paper by Susanna R. Katz and Anna A. Fox -“Archeological and Historical Assessment of Brackenridge Park, San Antonio, Texas” (1979). The two identified 15 prehistoric site s and 27 historic sites and features within the boundaries of Brackenridge Park. They noted the sites reflect a variety of activities which have been carried out over a period of several thousand years; here is the link: (http://www.car.utsa.edu/CARResearch/Publications/ASRFiles/1-100/ASR%20No.%2033.pdf)

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 1051 – “Nell O’ New Orleans,” 1920

In 1920, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The Madam and I enjoyed Mrs. Fiske in “Nell of New Orleans” at Powers. She was very fine.”

Mrs. Minnie Maddern Fiske starred as Aunt Nelly in “Nell O’ New Orleans.” Each act of the play was set in the garden of Miss Nell’s home in New Orleans. The second act was the same setting illuminated for the Mardi Gras at a dinner party. The final scene showed the same setting the morning after a violent storm. Some wonderful historic photos of Fiske are available at “Early History of Theatre in Seattle” – here is the link: http://seattletheatrehistory.org/collections/people/minnie-maddern-fiske

Mrs. Fiske from the Seattle Theatre History site.

The show was quite popular in 1920 and 1921, both in North America and overseas. In England, it was Miss Irene Vanbrugh who played the part of Miss Nelly in this Creole drama.

In 1921, the “London Times” described the “Nell O’ New Orleans plot line (Feb 16, 1921, page 8): “This is a play of atmosphere and the players know it and see that you don’t forget it. They are liquidly and meticulously Creole. Their Creole idioms seem to melt in the mouth. The dishes on the table, they tell you, are carefully prepared à la Créole. They have coloured people to wait on then and coloured people to sing them ‘off.’ The scene is laid in an old garden ‘on’ St. Charles-street in New Orleans. You hear of ‘bayous.’

“So you are fully persuaded to be in Louisiana, where, it appears, anything may happen. For instance Aunt (pronounced ant) Nelly may come back from Paris with a fine stock of swear words to show that she is skittish and a stick to indicate that she is not so young as when Georges Durand broke off his engagement (in 1886), and she may tease the life out of that unhappy Georges Durand by suddenly putting on her old 1886 frock and looking maddeningly bewitching in it. Indeed, she overcomes more than her enemies. She fascinates Durand fils as well as Durand pére, and drived off at midnight with the youngster, giving out that she is going to marry him, although but a minute ago he was engaged to her niece Delphine. But she returns cramped and weary from that trip next morning (after driving into innumerable bayous) to bring the young couple together again and to bestow her own hand upon the sulky Georges Durand. There are many more details in this odd story, but need not trouble about them because in Louisiana is in the atmosphere and the liquid, lisping Creole idiom.

“At least, that would be our main interest, if it were not that Aunt Nelly is played by Miss Irene Vanbrugh, and played with an attraction that far surpasses that of any atmosphere or idiom whatever. Her vivacity, her sparkle, her roguery, her spirit of fun are quite irresistible, Whether she is hobbling with her stick as the mature aunt (and dropping inadvertent damns into her reticule) or reverting to the skittish matron of 1886, or returning from her innocent escapade with aching feet and sides pinched by her corset, or saying, as the mot de la fin ((when Georges Durand has asked is she came back from Paris to marry him), ‘I’m damned if I know him,’ she is the incomparable artist that we know. The house, delighted at the outset to see her back on her old stage, was more than delighted to find that she had come back with all her old art and her old charm. Mr. Hallard and Mr. Faber contribute conscientiously to the Creole atmosphere. Miss Helen Spencer and Mt. Jack Hobbs are pleasant enough as a young couple. But the audience clamoured for their enchantress, Miss Irene, and would not go away until she had made a little speech of thanks.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 1040 – The Woman of Bronze, 1920

In 1920, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The Madam and I saw Margaret Anglin in ‘The Woman of Bronze’ and it was very good.” “The Madam” was Moses’ wife, Susan “Ella” Robbins Moses. Both turned 64 in 1920. Moses would live for another fourteen years after that.

From, the “Chicago Tribune,” 4 Jan 1920, page 96.

From the “Chicago Tribune,” 14 Jan 1920 page 15.

“The Woman of Bronze” was written by Henry Kistemaeker and Eugene Delard, adapted for the stage by Paul Kester. The show premiered at the Powers’ Theatre in Chicago, starring Margaret Anglin and went on tour. By the end of January, the show was featured at the Grand in Topeka, Kansas, and by February was playing in Sacramento, California. By the fall the show was featured at the at the Frazee Theatre, Forty-second street, Manhattan. By the time is appeared in New York, Margaret Anglin, John Halliday and Mary Fowler were featured as the leads from Sept. 7, 1920-April 1921.

From the “Topeka Daily Capital,” 31 Jan 1920, page 9.

From the “Sacramento Star,” 26 Feb 1920 page 5.

From the “San Francisco Examiner,” 26 Feb 1920 page 13.

From the “San Francisco Examiner,” 22 Feb 1920, page 9.

The plot involves a husband’s infidelity with his artistic model.

Percy Husband wrote a review for the “Chicago Tribune” on January 9, 1920 (page 13):

“When Miss Anglin and the emotions are effectively in confluence, as they are in ‘The Woman of Bronze,’ you may expect to experience all the rapid and sympathetic heart-beats common to the theater. She knows her way about the ‘situations.’ Her voice is attuned to words of passion and distress; her individuality has great and friendly resources, her intelligence is one of the finest of the American stage, and her knowledge of ways and means is not excelled among the actors of the day. Her luck in the choice of plays, is not always good, but she makes the best of it.

“Miss Anglin’s present implement is a bounteous exploitation of the whilom triangle. She, as the adoring wife of a successful sculptor, loses her artist to a youthful kinswoman, enduring the bereavement now with controlled and quiet forbearance and again battling against it in temptuous rebellion. The circumstances permit her to exercise the full of her art and her splendid tricks and devices.

“You see her first, happy and carefree, with her husband and her friends at their summer home (the time is the present, the place twenty miles from New York), discussing his great work, The Woman of Bronze, a statue commemorative of the victory of the allies and their associate in the war. There you have Miss Anglin in her light and delicate mood, the smart and humorous woman of the world, saying and doing with possibly too much precision the right thing. You admire her so much that when, a little later, her husband and her cousin embrace in the gloaming and utter the wild and broken phrases of guilty amour, you wish that she might not steal in a catch them at it. But she does, and you regard her highly as, with her world tumbling about her white shoulders, she tells them that it is time for dinner.

“Then again, when it is teatime in the second act, and there is sift music, chatter, and sex-epigrams, she and the raisonneur sit upon the divan in the middle of the stage, close to the footlights, and she tells him of her miseries. Of how she has followed her husband and his sweetheart to their rendezvous, and standing in the rain, has watched the light in their chamber go up and go out. A lady of the streets saw her thus, she says, and pitying her, as one unhappy woman does another, pressed money into her hand and put her in a cab. This recital, which is heard only by the audience, is disguised. The others in the party think that Miss Anglin is whispering merely a funny story, because she laughs to drown the noise of her breaking heart.

“If one could be critical about a drama, he might suspect that the language in ‘The Woman of Bronze’ is perhaps superhuman in a rich, dank, tropical way. ‘Take your hands off his heart,’ says Miss Anglin to her successor in ‘A Woman of Bronze,’ just before she draws a dagger and threatens to kill her, and the speech which Mr. Fred Eric, as sculptor husband, addresses to his statue, just before he shatters it to bits, is that of a critic rather than a human being. He says that it is carnal and soulless, and that its bronze eyes are sightless, rather than gleaming with the spirit of sacrifice and victory.

“At any rate, ‘The Woman of Bronze’ is deliberate, premeditated and according to order. Paul Kester, who adapted it from the collaboration of Henry Kistemaecker and Eugene Delard, deprives it of none of its routine possibilities, and it is by no means a botch. The acting is very good, and it includes that of Fred Eric as the sculptor, Walter Connolly as the honest friend, Miss Marion Barney as a merry widow, Sydney Mather as a semi-villain, and others, among them Miss Ethel Remy, who is rather fugitive and fawn-like as the ingenue who spilled the beans.”

From the “New York Tribune,” 19 Sept 1920 page 38.

Three years later, “The Woman in Bronze” became a silent movie. Moses and his wife also attended the movies quite frequently. In 1920 he wrote, “We still keep up with the movie attendance. We do not always strike a good picture.” I wonder if they ever saw the movie version of “The Woman in Bronze.”

Scene from the 1923 movie, “The Woman of Bronze.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 1037 – The Bohemian Settlement House, 1920

In 1920, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The New Year was ushered in by a very cold day. The Madam had the girls from the Bohemian House (another settlement House where she taught sewing) out for dinner and I am sure they enjoyed themselves.”

The “Madam” was Moses’ wife Susan “Ella” Robbins Moses. The “Bohemian House” was actually the Bohemian Settlement House. The Women’s Presbyterian Society established the Howell Neighborhood House for Home Missions in 1905, also known as the Bohemian Settlement House, located in the “Little Pilsen” neighborhood. The first settlement house was in a small building on the corner of Nineteenth Place and May Street. By 1912, a fund-raising drive resulted in a new building at 1831 South Center Street (now known as Racine Avenue). Since its establishment, the Bohemian Settlement House served a community predominantly composed of Bohemians, Poles and Czechs, offering social services and personal welfare assistance. Services expanded over the years, and by 1914 the there was a library, English Night School, Boys and Girls Clubs, and Sunday school.

The Bohemian House was featured in “Home Mission Monthly” in 1912 (Vol. 26, No. 5, page 125). Helen I. Duncan wrote an article entitled, “The Bohemian Settlement House:” Her is the article:
“In ‘Little Pilsen,” a district with a population of 40,000 Bohemians. The former May Street Mission, which appeared in last year’s report as the Centre Avenue Mission, has again changed its name, and now appears with enlarged facilities and opportunities as the Bohemian Settlement House. In seven years the work which started with a kindergarten for children of this crowded Bohemian neighborhood has so grown and developed that it now includes all the activities usually carried on by a social settlement. These activities are supported, however, by religious backing which so few social settlements believe to be essential.

“Most interesting phases of our educational work are the new Bohemian school for children and English school for adults. To the Bohemian school, held twice a week, come fifty children who want to learn to read and write the mother tongue, which they speak in their own homes, and which is often the only language the parents can read. In English school, as in most of our classes, no direct attempt is made to present the religious side of our work; Protestants, Catholics and Free Thinkers are welcomed without question. We are finding, however, that even when no words are spoken, the Spirit of Christ is working through these classes. They are proving a source of help and inspiration to many who can not yet acknowledge the Christian Church. But as we win confidence and trust, our church membership too is growing: we were glad to count fifty-four communicants at our Christmas morning celebration of the Lord’s Supper. For the last two years all the religious work has been under the charge of the Rev. Vaclav Vanek, a most able and gifted Bohemian preacher.”

By 1965 the Bohemian House merged with the Bethlehem Community Center to form the Neighborhood Service Organization. The new charter stated the Neighborhood Service Organization’s goal: “To be a neighbor to the neighbors in such a way that families are strengthened, lives are made more meaningful and purposeful and individuals see and understand the dignity and worth that is theirs as children of God.” Over time, the demographics of the neighborhood changed, and by the 1970s Mexican immigrants replaced many of the Central European immigrants. The Bohemian Settlement House is still serving immigrants, and is now known as the Casa Aztlàn. Here is some additional information from the National Park Service about Pilsen Historic District, Cook County, Illinois: https://www.nps.gov/nr/feature/hispanic/2010/pilsen_historic_district.htm

Also, the University of Illinois at Chicago holds the Bethlehem Howell Neighborhood Center Collection, including the Bohemian Settlement House. In their special collection (MSBHNC70) Here is the link for more information: https://findingaids.library.uic.edu/sc/MSBHNC70.xml

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 791 – Mrs. Thomas G. Moses, 1911.

As I conclude the year 1911, Mrs. Thomas G. Moses re-enters the story as a one-line entry in a newspaper article published in the “Joliet Evening Herald-News” (11 June 1911, page 12). I seldom explore the life of Thomas G. Moses’ wife, Susan “Ella” Robbins, in my posts. One of the reasons is that she primarily remained absent from print, being primarily identified in minimal public records and a few brief mentions in her husband’s memoirs. Prior to 1911, there are only a few mentions of “Mrs. Thos. G. Moses” in the newspaper mostly associated with various church events.

It is not that she was confined to the home, unloved by her husband. However, like most women of her time, she was cast in a supporting role. Ella spent much of her married life taking care of home responsibilities while her husband crisscrossed the country to complete one theater project after another. After the children were grown and her own parents had passed, what was there to do other than housekeeping? Primarily volunteer and church work. Her husband worked until his death, never really slowing down. Ella had not worked outside of the home since getting married. For one year, she worked as a seamstress’ assistant in Sterling, Illinois, before giving birth to their first child.

Ella was the love of Tom’s life, their first having met in the one-room schoolhouse in Sterling. Moses recalled their first date in 1872, writing, “The first party we attended together compelled me to do some hustling in putting my clothes in shape, as about the only clothes I had were made from my Father’s cast-offs, which had done good service in the tannery. A paper collar and “dickey” over my flannel shirt, a piece of ribbon for a tie, a good coat of blacking on my heavy shoes and I was ready to shine in Society. I think Ella was awfully brave to go with me, especially when the other boys always dressed better than I.” The couple was married on October 31, 1878, with their first child, William Pitt Moses, arriving in 1879.

Ella was her husband’s confidant, counselor, and eventual caretaker. When Moses’ father and step-mother rejected him, Ella and her family were there to welcome him with open arms and support him. They offered unconditional love, something that had vanished when his birth mother passed away at a young age. Ella became his rock, an integral link that completed her husband’s network of support throughout the decades. When her husband did return home after a project, he escaped to the solace of his attic studio, always painting. He also left home between work projects to hone his artistic skills on sporadic sketching trips. All the while Ella was there to keep everything quiet on the home front. She was the one who packed up their entire house and moved east when her husband started a new studio in New York in 1900, with children in tow. She was the one who kept children and grandchildren from bothering their father/grandfather while he was painting. As most women during this time, her life was defined by the desires and actions of her husband. There was little time for her to follow her dreams as she was always busy with home and church projects. We will never know if this was “enough” and made her life complete.

It was a time when women could note vote, and most of their activities were limited by gender. As fascinated as I am with this particular period of time, I would have hated the restrictions of being a female at this time. I think of my mother’s frustration when she first purchased a car during the 1950s. She had an advanced degree, a full-time position as a teacher, and a guaranteed income, yet could not secure a car loan without the co-signature of a male, ideally a father or husband. Yes, my grandfather thought this was ridiculous too, so he loaned her the money. Forty years prior to my own mother’s experience, women had limited control of their bodies, their bank accounts and property without some form of guardianship from a male; these restrictions suggest that women were in capable of making important decisions. And yet there remain men who yearn to return, restricting women. We remember that when women are kept at home, unemployed, and constantly pregnant their voice in society is effectively silenced.

One of the few outlets for women during the early twentieth century was charitable work for religious organizations. Such was the case for Mrs. Thomas G. Moses and the Woman’s Foreign Missionary Society of the Chicago Presbytery. In 1911, she was a speaker at the annual meeting held at DuPage church. The Thursday, June 8, event was attended by 125 ladies, 67 of whom were representatives from various Chicago churches, with the remaining number coming from the surrounding parishes and towns. The morning session opened with a hymn, a devotional service and words of welcome from Mrs. M. B. McNutt. Then various reports were presented from the secretaries, treasurer and a personal story described foreign missionary work.

Mrs. Thomas G. Moses spoke in the afternoon about “Where Foreign and Home Missions Meet.” Other afternoon speakers discussed reports on recent gatherings, a plea for young people to commit to mission work, and thoughts for the coming months.

For the remainder of her life, Ella, was an active participant in various church activities. As wonderful as this sounds, what else could she do? Church socials, fundraisers, and other volunteer work kept some women’s minds and bodies active. A few were able to rise above social constrictions in 1911, but most of them were an anomaly.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 175 – Thomas G. Moses and the Memorial Year

In 1878, Thomas G. Moses and Ella Robbins were inseparable as they made plans for a fall wedding. Moses wrote that they spent all of their spare time together planning for the future. He continued to work as a scenic artist, starting the year with an advertising drop that led to some scenery for a “barn storming company.” Soon he was employed to decorate Sterling’s Academy of Music and paint all of the scenery.

Stage of the Academy of Music in Sterling, Illinois.

During this time, his father actively worked against him to discourage clients from hiring him, especially the owner of the Academy of Music. His father even explained to the owner of the venue, Mr. Tracy, that Moses was “too young for such a big job.” Fortunately, Tracy responded that he had “full confidence” in his ability to do the work. In the end, Moses worked all summer at the Academy in addition to completing a small number of other painting projects.

It is one thing to disapprove of a child’s career course, but another entirely to try and undermine it. After having read the thoughtful and loving notes sent to Moses by his father after first moving to Chicago, I was confused. What had happened? Initially, he had the support from his family, receiving the trunk of clothes and his first diary. This goodwill seemed to have vanquished. Moses’ typed manuscript paints an entirely different picture of his father from the few handwritten notes contained at the Harry Ransom Center. Could it the increased hostilities between Moses and his family a result of his stepmother? Moses recalled when she first arrived, writing, “We figured a new Mother would not be so cross. When she arrived with the girls, and gave us a “once over,” I felt in my bones that we had got in a cinch.” Later he added, “When the new Mother took charge of affairs, there were many radical changes made. Many of them made my young life a burden, and had a strong influence on my whole life, and also kept my nose to the grindstone.” This situation would be made worse after viewing his birth mother’s sketchbook. He had lost a fellow artist before he even realized that he would become one himself. Despite any ill feelings, Moses returned to Sterling in 1878 and attempted to carve out a career as an artist in this small town.

That summer, Ella moved into town from Robbins Range, accepting work as a dressmaker with Mrs. Wilson. Meanwhile, Moses boarded at the family home of his good friend Will Tuller, eventually moving later to the Galt House after extending relations of the Tullers decided to visit.

Galt House in Sterling, Illinois where Moses stayed before his wedding.

Of this period, Moses wrote, “Ella and I spent all the spare time we had planning for the future. We had our little home all spoken for and a list made up for the furnishing. Those were indeed happy days. After all we had both gone through, for Ella had a hard time on the farm – nearly five years of hard work, cooking for a bunch of “hobos” that was composed of a dozen farm hands, if not more. We agreed to start housekeeping very quietly and not try to make a splurge. Mrs. Robbins assisted as much as she could. Our little cottage had plenty of ground to stand on an all kinds of fruit. We had everything that was necessary to make us comfortable and happy.”

Wedding announcement for Thomas G. Moses and Ella Robbins in 1878.

The couple was married on Thursday, October 31^st, 1878. Moses recalled the ceremony, writing, “I left town about noon, arrived at Robbins Range at 3 o’clock. We were married at 4 o’clock. After a fine dinner we left for town and our little home. We found a nice warm fire to welcome us. Everyone seemed pleased, except my Father.” After the wedding Moses had very little scenery to paint, but his work at the Academy put him “on the list.” He wrote, “Father heard so much praise of my work that he finally weakened and we called the old score off and ‘we lived happily ever after.’”

Thomas G. Moses and Ella Robbins Moses, 508 E. 7th Street in Sterling, Illinois.

Thomas G. Moses and Ella Robbins Moses in 1879 in front of their house in Sterling, Illinois.

They managed to meet their expenses the first year of marriage, but it was a “hand to mouth existence.” During the spring of 1879 Moses secured painting work to decorate a church in Tampico, Illinois. He intensely disliked working for churches. His feelings did not stem from the artistic compositions or the denomination’s theological stance. It was the people. Moses wrote, “My experience with Church Committees, of all denominations, was such that I almost promised myself never to enter another Church. I found a lot of dishonest men that were pillars of the church and naturally I looked upon them as good Christians, and their word should have been as good as their bond.”

To be continued…