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In 1887, Moses wrote, “My discontent with studio work got the upper hand and I quit on February 11, and joined Burridge, Moses and Louderback.”

Burridge, Moses, & Louderback was short-lived and lasted until 1888. During that time it provided Moses with a wonderful opportunity to be associated with two other individuals who were well-respected in the fine art world. The company focused on stage production work and had their office and several frames in the Chamber of Commerce building in Chicago. Their main studios were at the Columbia Theatre and Grand Opera House.

Previously known as Haverly’s Theatre, the Columbia’s stage was 70 by 54 feet. Advertisements listed Louderback as the business manager. He was well-respected owner of an auction house with fine art galleries, carrying a variety of high-end fine products in the Chicago area. It was Louderback & Co. that had previously hosted the first Scene Painters’ Show in 1885 at 215 Wabasha Avenue.

Burridge was a year younger than Moses, born in 1857. He initially trained with Harley Merry at his Brooklyn Studio during the early 1870s. By 1876 he worked with Phil Goatcher for the Philadelphia Centennial World Fair, painting the “Seige of Paris.” He would later paint a the “Battle of Gettysburg” panorama. After working in Philadelphia, he returned to New York and painted at the Bijou and Fourteenth Street theatres. Then he headed for Chicago where work was plentiful and his skills were in demand. From 1882-1885 Burridge worked with John A. Havlin at Chicago’s Grand Theatre. He was also listed as the scenic artist for the Standard Theatre before partnering with Moses and Louderback. Burridge’s skill and connections would have been an asset to the newly formed studio.

The work of Burridge, Moses & Louderback during 1887-1888 included “Gypsy Baron” for the Conried and Hermann Opera Company, 2 panoramas for Joe Murphy for “Donah,” and 2 complete productions of “Kerry Gow.” They also stocked the Grand Opera House in Columbus, Ohio and Foster’s Opera House in Des Moines, Iowa. They also worked in New York City and Moses noted that they produced scenery for the Duff Company’s production of “Dorothea” at the Standard Theatre. Moses wrote, “This was a great experience for me, for the production came out fine. The 1^st Act was a scene in County Kent, England – grain fields and fine rolling country. Stage right a lot of hop vines on poles. Left, a wayside inn. All very sunny, but inclined to be grey. At rehearsal, on came the Inn Kepper with a pair of the brightest scarlet satin knickerbockers. What a yell Burridge gave out. They killed the whole set. Burridge insisted on a change of color, which was done. “ During this same time, Burridge, Moses & Louderback stocked six city theatres with all of the necessary scenery. Of this busy period, Moses wrote, “We worked day and night.”

On November 20, 1888, Burridge pulled out of business because he and Louderback couldn’t agree on the running of their company. Louderback came from a “managing art” background while Burridge came from a “creating art” background. Moses was caught in the middle. As Burridge’s replacement, Howard Tuttle was brought on board. He joined Moses and his assistant (Ralph Terwilliger) at their loft studio on Lake Street. Tuttle would remain with Moses for the next few years, traveling to Riverside, CA, San Francisco, CA, Evansville, IN and Corvallis, OR. He would later be responsible for scenery at the Davidson (Milwaukee, WI), the La Crosse Theatre (La Crosse, Wisconsin), Grand Opera House (Oshkosh, WI), Illinois Theatre (Rock Island, IL), Calumet Theatre (Calumet, MI), and Stone’s Theatre (Flint, MI).

Without Burridge, however, Moses’ business venture was not nearly as successful. Moses wrote, “I would have been better off had I remained at Sosman and Landis’, as my share of salary only amounted to $42.00 per week. Not very much of a hustler. While I was not pleased, I was anxious to keep on.”

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses travelled a bit more than usual after completing the panorama with David A. Strong. One of his “short trips” was to Toronto, Canada. There he had a scenery painting project where he had to really “hustle” in order to meet the impending deadline. Moses wrote, “I enjoyed my short stay there, as I liked the city very much, so much like the U.S.”

Moses also went to Milwaukee to paint some scenery for the Academy of Music. For this project, he was working for Jacob Litt and recalled that one piece was a wire fireproof curtain that was “hard to paint.” Moses never liked painting woven wire asbestos and would complain about them in later years too. Yet they were a permanent fixture in many collections. Occasionally they would be poorly shipped or hung, adding to his exasperation. He would reiterate that the curtains should never be folded, but always rolled, to prevent the huge dents that would ruin the painted compositions.

The scenery that Moses painted for the Academy of Music in Milwaukee was in the second-generation space. Milwaukee’s first Academy of Music performance venuewas an exact model of the Philadelphia Academy of Music. The auditorium was 100’-0” deep by 64’-0” wide, and was divided into a parquetted, dress circle and upper tier. It was furnished with patented seats arranged with “a view to comfort” (“The Chronicles of Milwaukee: Being a Narrative of the Town From Its Earliest Period to the Present, 1861” page 285). The newspaper article noted “it is impossible for the spectator to so locate himself that a full and comprehensive view of the stage cannot be obtained.” The stage was thirty-six feet and flaked by two private boxes. There were dressing rooms and an orchestra box in front. William P. Young was the builder and it was inaugurated on March 16, 1860. In 1876 a second Academy of Music was built in Milwaukee between Wisconsin and Michigan. The design was a commission of Edward Townsend Mix and had a 1,600 seat capacity. This was the stage that Moses provided scenery for in 1886.

My interest traveled briefly to Litt as I recalled an image of a letterhead with his name on it (Twin Cities Scenic Co. collection catalogue, Brockman, 1987). I started to scan newspaper archives for Litt in both Milwaukee and Minnesota. There is mention of Litt in 1886 when he ventured to Minnesota with his sister. On July 31 the St. Paul Daily Globe published, “Jacob Litt, the dime museum proprietor and manager of the academy of music, Milwaukee accompanied by his sister, is in the city, expecting to spend a week at Minnetonka” (page 3). It is possible that his trip was as much for business purposes as pleasure.

Jacob Litt is recorded as being “the first theatrical manager to amass a great fortune and reach the millionaire class solely as a result of his own labors” (“The Stage in the Twentieth Century” by Robert Grau, 1912, page 135). He began his theatre career in the box office of Milwaukee’s Grand Opera House. He soon became the first manager to arrange a circuit of theatres for theatrical combinations in the Northwest and became wildly successful. He leased theatres in Milwaukee, St. Paul, Minneapolis, and Chicago, every endeavor becoming a lucrative success.

By 1889, Jacob Litt had taken over the People’s Theatre of Minneapolis that had opened on October 31, 1887 (20 Washington Avenue North). The venue was first owned by Lambert Hayes W. E. Sterling of Buffalo, New York as the theater’s first manager. By March of 1889,

Kohl and Middleton leased the theater. In July Jacob Litt took over, renaming it the ” Bijou

Opera House.” Unfortunately, a gas jet behind the scenes started a fire and burned the building to the ground on December 28, 1890. A second “Bijou Opera House” was built on that same site in 1891. Twin City Scenic Company began in the Bijou Opera House in Minneapolis. There were three principle employees who opened the scenic studio. Theodore Hays, manager of the Bijou, became the first president of Twin City Scenic Co. William P. Davis and William Knox Brown supervised the scenic art and stage mechanics departments. The company would later expand into St. Paul’s Grand Opera House for additional studio space.E. Sterling (the first manager of the People’s Theatre) returned to Minneapolis to open the New People’s Theater at 322 Marquette Avenue on March 24, 1894. By December 16 of that same year the theater was acquired by Jacob Litt, who renamed it the ” Metropolitan Opera House.” As a director and producer, Litt’s Broadway credits include “The Diplomat” )1902), “The Proce of Peace” (1901), “Caleb West” (1900), “The Ghetto” (1899), “Shall We Forgive Her” (1897), “The Last Stroke” (1896) and “Yon Yonson” (1894.)

It is important to recall what was also happening in the Twin Cities prior to the establishment of Twin City Scenic Company. In 1881, Charles S. King was brought in to install the stage machinery for the Grand Opera House in Minneapolis, Minnesota. At the time, he was thirty years old with seven years of practical experience in the industry. Keep in in mind that Moses had been working for Sosman & Landis since 1880. There is mention in the Minneapolis Tribune that “Mr. C. S. King, the stage carpenter at the Grand Opera House, was initiated into some of the mysteries of stage mechanism as exemplified in our new temple of amusement. Mr. King who was summoned here from Chicago, is regarded as one of the best stage-carpenters in the country, having had wide experience and possessing perfect knowledge of his progression. He says that our opera house will have the finest stage, the easiest worked, and will be the best appointed theatre west of Chicago, or of many large eastern cities” (page 5). When King was working on the stage at the Grand Opera in Minneapolis, the local stage carpenter for the venue was William Knox Brown, one of the three founders of Twin City Scenic Company.

Scenic artist John H. Young recalled in 1912, stating, “Jacob Litt always gave carte blache order for scenes, asking for the very best that could be painted, but if any breakaways were to take place in the scene such as a falling bridge carrying a man or woman with it, he always demanded that I be the first one to try it. This naturally had the tendency to make me arrange a safe fall. This method was adopted by the great Salvini at Wallack’s old theatre when he produced ‘Samson’ and the breaking away of the temple as he pushed aside the great stone columns, causing the entire building to collapse, was rather a trying test of my nerves” (Grau, page 230-231).

To be continued…

In 1886, Sosman and Landis completed the construction of their scenic studio on Clinton Street in Chicago, Illinois. By this time, Moses had been working at Sosman & Landis for six years. The company knew what he was capable of and who were the best scenic artists to use on specialty projects. Moses’ typed manuscript records that he and David A. Strong started on a panorama of Grant’s trip around the world that year. Moses wrote, “We were alone in the big studio for some time before the whole force came over. We enjoyed painting the panorama as it was continuous. There was some careful blending to be done.” The remainder of the Sosman & Landis crew was still finishing projects in the old studio space.
Little is known about this panorama, but it was likely a moving panorama that documented General Grant’s worldwide tour. After leaving the office of the presidency in 1877, Ulysses S. Grant embarked on a journey around the world, visiting Europe, the Middle East and Asia over two and one-half years. The trip was first published in 1879 as “General Grant’s Tour Around the World: With a Sketch of His Life.” It provided an abundance of opportunities to paint visions of foreign lands and exotic scenery for American audiences. Sadly, nothing is known of the completed composition or where it toured across the country.

What is of interest to me, however, is Moses’ mention that he and Strong were the painting team for this project and the primary crew at the new Sosman & Landis studio before the arrival of the remaining crew. Strong was fifty-six years old and Moses was thirty years old in 1886. This was a perfect pairing of aged experience and youthful enthusiasm. We know that Moses was very fast and Strong was known for his production of visual spectacle. Working with Strong in any capacity must have been an asset in Moses’ career and training.

By this time, Moses had already made a name for himself and was well-respected as a scenic artist in many areas of the country. Working with Strong would have been the icing on the cake. They would have painted side-by-side, chatted about past projects, and anticipated each other’s approach to painting a large composition. It takes a very short time to recognize the skill and speed of a fellow artist when painting a backdrop together. A panorama would have provided ample opportunity for Moses to study Strong’s approach to scenic art and mirror it so the composition would have an overall unity. Strong would have set the tone of the entire piece, being the more experienced artist.

Let’s recall the significance of Strong (1830-1911) to appreciate this pairing. Strong was born in Connecticut where he became known as a decorative painter and scenic artist at an early age. By the age of thirty-four, he was working professionally at theatres in Washington, D.C. and New York, primarily staying on the East Coast. There, his contemporaries were Layfeyette W. Seavy, Richard Marston, Robert Smith, William Wallack and E. Hayes. At the age of forty-four, he moved to Chicago and painted for Crosby’s Opera House, Haverly’s Theatre, and McVicker’s Theatre. Strong was also a well-known stage machinist who specialized in burlesque pantomime, such as “The Black Crook” and “The White Fawn.” Well skilled in the creation of painted panoramas, he also was known for painting the 1871 “Panorama of Ireland.” Strong was affectionately referred to as “Old Trusty” by his fellow scenic artists and well-respected for his “facile brush,” and “the quality of opaqueness” in his painting, characteristic of the Dusseldorf School.” Moses wrote, “His color was deep and rich and his drawings very correct.”

Strong was not simply a scenic artist. As previously noted, he was also a member of the Theatrical Mechanics Association. Strong, Henry C. Tryon and Charles S. King would have been a powerful triumvirate of theatrical engineering at Sosman & Landis during this time, allowing the company to soar to the top of their industry. The construction of a new studio space was proof of their success.

By 1886, Sosman & Landis studio had contracted enough new business to justify the construction of a premiere studio space on Clinton Street. This would be their main studio until the 1920s when Chicago Studios would rent the facility. We also know that by this time, Henry C. Tryon, John H. Young, Hardesty Maratta, Ed Morange and Charles S. King were all part of the studio’s work force. I wish that I could have been there to see all of that talent under one roof.

To be continued…

In 1886, Thomas G. Moses promised to remain another year at Sosman & Landis. This regular line of studio work involved travel and it kept him busy all year.  His typed manuscript notes that he completed two “short trips” to paint scenery in Bay City, Michigan and Toronto, Canada. Putting on my detective hat, I started to search for possible venues. In a relatively short time, I was able to determine that Moses had likely been sent to outfit the newly constructed Wood’s Opera House. Here is what I uncovered about Bay City:

Most of Bay City’s early theaters were housed in multi-purpose facilities. For example, Sidney Campbell’s “Globe House” was initially built as a hotel. By 1865, the “Globe House” was purchased by A.N. Rouech who added a performance space on the building’s upper level. Various records indicate that this was considered the community’s first permanent theater. Similarly, James Fraser’s “Fraser House” also included a multipurpose room that functioned as both a ballroom and a theater on its upper level. Without any form of permanent seating, each space was more like a performance hall (or Masonic hall) with a stage located at the end of a long rectangular room.

The 1869 Westover Opera House was constructed and considered to be the first standard theater facility for Bay City residents with fixed seating. Unfortunately, fire destroyed the opera house in January of 1886. This building had been located on William Westover’s business block, utilizing the third and fourth floors. At that time, it was reported as being the finest theater facilities north of Detroit. I always read between the lines of “finest theatre” as it often appeared to be a marketing ploy.

In 1885, Westover planned to renovate the opera house as it was considered unsafe and badly in need of repairs.  He hired J.M. Wood to oversee the renovation project as he had initially designed the structure when the Westover block was built. Westover’s manager, John Buckley, even made arrangements with the “Washington Avenue Rink” to temporarily construct a performance space for productions during the renovation. However, the attendance at the temporary location was poor and the remodeling of the facility did not start right away.

In the “Bay City Tribune” the future performance space was described as being a “three story building in front, with stores and offices on each side of the main entrance and a large hall or assembly room on the third floor.” The opera house would have a large gallery, a fire wall, and an iron drop curtain between the stage and auditorium. The space would seat 1,200 individuals under a 48’-0” high dome. The article went on to describe the design in detail. The stage would be larger than that at the Academy of Music and thoroughly equipped with scenery and stage machinery. The building would include “more artistic effects than can be found in any opera house in the state.”

Westover decided to approach the city for financial assistance to help defray the high costs involved, requesting that the city donate $15,000. The city wasn’t that interested donating funds to a private endeavor, but did organize a committee to raise funds from the community for this purpose.

Amazingly, fate intervened and on January 17, 1886, the building caught on fire. In a very short time the entire block containing the opera house was considered a total loss. Sadly, only a small fraction of the damage was covered by insurance and any future theatre seemed impossible.

Regardless of the dire circumstances, a new Woods Opera House (1886-1902) replaced it that same year. It was considered Bay City’s first building solely devoted to theatre, positioned on the corner of Washington Ave. and Sixth Street. The first attraction at the newly constructed theatre appeared the first week of September. Inside the building, three levels comprised the performance space that included a main floor, balcony and gallery. There were three drop curtains and enough back drops that could create up to thirty different scene changes. This was the scenery collection that Moses had traveled to Bay City to paint on site.

Sadly, Woods Opera House would only live for sixteen years. Like it’s predecessor, it was destroyed by fire on August 29, 1902. “The Tide of Life” would be the opera house’s last performance as a fire would destroy the theater that evening. The financial lost was estimated at $113,000. Again, there was no hesitation to construct a new theater on the same site and the Washington Theatre opened the following year.

Historical note about J. M. Wood. Wood was a native of New York City, born in 1841. Early in his career, he moved to Chicago and started working as an architect. He eventually opened an office for himself and completed many designs for theaters, opera houses and concert halls throughout the United States. Projects include the New California Theater (Los Angeles), the Grand Opera House (Portland), the Tacoma Theater (Tacoma, Washington), New Broadway Theater (Minneapolis), Blake Opera House (Racine, WI), the Grand Opera House (Warsaw, WI), Rockford Opera House and Grand Opera House (Danville, IL), Academy of Music (East Saginaw),  Academy of Music (Kalamazoo, MI), Redmond’s Opera House (Grand Rapids, MI), Academy of Music (Toronto, Ontario, Canada), Academies of Music in Franklin, Oil City and Altoona (Pennsylvania), Academy of Music (Cedar Rapids, IA), and many others too numerous to mention. Wood was noted as “an enthusiast in this branch of his profession, and has devoted a great deal of time and study to the comfort, convenience, acoustic qualities and effect in the design and arrangements of opera houses, theaters and concert halls” (“The Bay of San Francisco,” Volume 1, 1892).

To be continued…

Much of the above information was posted online at the Bay-Journal. Here is the link: http://bay-journal.com/bay/1he/theater/woodsopera.html#thumb

After the West Virginia sketching trip in 1885, Thomas G. Moses found himself quite busy with both work and study. He remained at Sosman & Landis Studio, did some extra work at the Lyceum Theatre, and even joined a class as Crossman’s Studio to study figure drawing. Despite his busy schedule, Moses also managed to complete a few watercolors for a collector named Fanning. For these commissions he received the “magnificent sum” of $100.00 per dozen, averaging four pictures a week; each was 14 x 22. Fanning wanted Moses to go to New York City and do nothing but paint woodland scenes, but he had to refuse. Work was too plentiful in Chicago and he had the responsibility of a home and family there. He wrote, “I was ambitious to do something besides a scene painter, to leave something besides a name, which is about all a scene painter leaves as his scenic work is soon painted out.”

That year Moses also created some perspective interiors for the decorating firm of Mitchel & Halbach. He started when the company opened under the direction of Otto W. Mitchel and J. Fred A. Halbach.

Mitchel & Halbach was a Chicago theatrical decorator firm. Like P. M. Almini and Otto Jevne who preceded them, both of the founders advertised as fresco artists, working all over the country in state house, theaters and private residences. Otto W. Mitchel was a decorator and furnisher born in Vesbeck, near Hanover, Germany on October 8, 1853. He arrived in Chicago by 1873 and he immediately began studying studied Fred M. Atwood. In 1880, Mitchel married Edith Geiger in 1880 and had a son, Louis. By 1885, he engaged in a decorating and furnishing business with J. Fred A. Halbach, forming Mitchel and Halbach. The company incorporated as Mitchel & Halbach Co., on April 13, 1908. Company offices where initially located at 195 Wabash Ave in 1887, 264 Michigan Ave. in 1905 and at 718 S. Michigan Ave. in 1911, and 1715 S. Michigan Ave. in 1922. Mitchel was a Mason, Republican, and member of the Chicago Athletic Club.

Fred A. Halbach was born in Peru, Indiana, on December 25, 1856. He began his artistic career with the firm of William Cheney in Toledo from 1871-1877. In 1877, he moved to Chicago where he continued to develop his skills as a decorator. In 1880, he moved to New York where he was employed as a designer and decorator at Pottier & Stymus, a prominent American furniture and design firm. They made furniture in Neo-Greco, Renaissance Revival, Egyptian Revival, and Modern Gothic Styles, employing 700 men and 50 women by 1872.

By 1885, Halbach had returned to Chicago where he met Mitchel. Halbach was a Republican and member of the Royal Arcanum, Royal League, Union League, Athletic Club, and the O’Klok Klub.

Mitchel & Halbach added the finishing touches to theatrical, commercial, and residential interiors, specializing in hand-painted frescoes, glazed and stenciled canvas-on-plaster wall coverings, stained glass work, and other decorative painting.

By 1911, the firm was credited with decorations for over 300 theatres nationwide, including the New Majestic Theatre (Houston, TX), Empire Theatre (NYC), Broadway Theatre (NYC), American Theatre (NYC), Weber’s Music Hall (NYC), Chicago Opera House, Columbia Theatre (Chicago), Hooley’s Theatre (Chicago), New Orpheum (Los Angeles, CA), New Orpheum (Salt Lake City), New Orpheum (New Orleans, LA), New Orpheum (Memphis, TN), New Orpheum (Denver, CO), and many other.

One of the more famous venues that they decorated was the 1911 (Sparks) New Theatre in Fort Smith, Arkansas. Interior decorations were a mixture of Beaux-Arts and Art Nouveau styles. The theatre was designed by the architectural firm Boller Brothers of Kansas City and intended as a live performance venue with a large fly space, an orchestra pit that seated up to twenty musicians and an auditorium that seated 1,200 people on the main floor, two balconies, and two sets of boxes. In 1929, $20,000 was spent to purchase equipment to show “talking movies” and the venue changed with the times. By the 1930s the space was remodeled in the Art Moderne style. The New Theatre was the only theatre in Fort Smith that would admit African Americans. The upper balcony was reserved for African American patrons during the days of racial segregation.

George Sparks had been a wealthy Fort Smith businessman who had been impressed by a 1903 performance at the New Amsterdam Theatre in New York. After returning to his hometown, he decided to build a similar theatre. Unfortunately, Sparks died in a shipwreck off the California coat in 1907. However, his estate left enough money in his will to build both a theatre and hospital in Fort Smith by 1911.

To be continued…

Tom Moses’ Trips – West Virginia, 1885

“In looking over our sketches of this wild territory we were impressed with the wonderful amount of really good material that is so essential in the making of a good picture; fine composition and color everywhere. Color values are strongly emphasized by the combination of dark pines and hemlocks, the light birch and beech, red sand-stone and dark grey granite, bits of broken limbs bleached to a warm grey dropped on a bed of dark moss and the dead brown leaves, and are bound to make a color value and balance so that one does not have to study very long nor go wandering away from the sketch in Virginia, with the picture quality, at every turn. In these woods no big expanse of space can be found; simply lovely vistas, either looking toward the sun, with lovely bots of sky showing through or as one turns about the charming forest interior, framed on either side with beech and birch trees; a colorful foreground of rocks and dead leaves, fading away into a dense blue green backing, with only a bit of sunlight sifting through the tree-tops and making a glistening high light on a rock or a cluster of foliage.

The range of light toward sun-down is very interesting, and how often have I sat and watched it, and then had to pick my way out of the forest, where it becomes dark very soon after the sun sets, and the awful tangle of the underbrush and moss covered rocks makes it difficult to walk and carry a heavy load. It is also very easy to lose one’s way. The screech owl will always assist you with his mournful hoot.

There is so much in Virginia forests that we will fail to find in other states, that I could be satisfied to go back there each year if it were not for the fact that I have made up my mind to get sketches from all over the country; so far I have succeeded fairly well.

We left Schell for Piedmont, changed cars and took the B. & O. R. R. for Chicago. We again passed through Deer Park, which is more of a summer resort than we had thought from a casual glance from the train. We all agreed that we had a good time, our sketches would repay us for the time and money expended and we all desired to repeat the dose.

Some years after this trip we learned that our congenial acquaintance, Mr. Murphy, had been caught red-handed by the revenue men and that before he would surrender was literally shot to pieces. We regretted learning this, as Murphy was a good story-teller and liked our cigars – ten for twenty-five cents. Some smoke!

Back to the hustle, bustle, dirt and smoke of a large city, with a lingering taste of the woods which will last for some time, we take up the big landscape painting again and begin once more to turn our ability and labor into the big dollars.”

Concluded

Side note: When I was restoring the Scottish Rite scenery in Danville, Virginia, we were able to take some trips into the Blue Ridge Mountains. One of my favorite trips was with my folks and son, Aaron, as we ventured into the mountains and stayed for the weekend. I had previously driven the length of the Blue Ridge Parkway with husband and son after traveling from a scenery restoration job in McAlester, Oklahoma, to a family gathering of my in-laws in Delaware. I never felt like an outsider in the region and the Danville Masons who hosted me announced that I would never be considered a “Yankee.” In kindness, they explained that their designation often referred to an attitude, or a state of mind, rather than a geographical designation. Even those who had nothing to do with the project or the Fraternity were so very kind and welcoming during our stay. I loved the area and the people, so much that it was hard to return to the Midwest.

In ending this segment I think of the lyrics from John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads:”

“Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains
Shenandoah River,
Life is old there
Older than the trees
Younger than the mountains
Blowin’ like the breeze.

Take me home, country roads, to the place where I belong, West Virginia, Mountain Mamma. Take me home, country roads.”

Here’s the link for a video with some lovely pictures to accompany Denver’s song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UNoZtIPWpyE

Tom Moses’ Trips – West Virginia, 1885

“When we three [Thomas G. Moses, Henry C. Tryon, and John H. Young] were working together there was a constant stream of talk, not always about art. Tryon was very fond of an argument: one instance: In painting a rock in the water, the wet part of the rock, being so much darker, forms a sharp line on the top of the water. Young and I had always painted a light line – Tryon proved to us that the line was dark and water threw a shadow on the rock. He would lie on his back for hours studying the light coming through the eaves of a red maple. At that time of year the color was fine. He succeeded in making a very effective sketch; the undertone was fine and the cool, grey lights were very effective.

Rattle snakes were numerous. As it was getting rather cool for them, they would get out in the open to warm up. Tryon and I were climbing over a big rock that had been split open, one-half of it rolling down the mountain side. At the base of this rock was a ball of rattlesnakes that was at least eighteen inches in diameter and contained at least twenty-five old and young. A small pebble caused them to break apart and there was an awful squirming for shelter.

On one of our trips we came across a rough, little cabin where we stopped to get a drink. It was occupied by a family of the peculiar type of mountain whites – tall, fair and very gaunt but very hospitable. They invited us to dine. There was something frightful in the desolation of this place. In the front of the cabin was a door yard of wet clay where one or two gaunt hogs were wallowing. Beyond was a stagnant pool surrounded by hundreds of acres of charred, ghastly trunks of burned trees, and beyond these again the pine forests stretched, unbroken and black on every side, covering range after range of mountains until the low grey sky shut down and barred them in. An unspeakable monotony, a feeling of despair, hung over the black and grey landscape. There was not a flower, a waving stalk of corn nor the twitter of ad bird. There were, year after year, only the stagnant pools, the hogs and the enormous, still, sullen forests. Children came and lived a life of indolence, had very little schooling and passed out at an early age, the world no better for their having lived.

The small cabins, nestled against the side of a big rock or hemlock for protection, were, as a rule, very crude. The logs were a good size and carefully chinked with a clay that dries hard; rough stone chimneys, no windows possibly enough air sifts through the chimney. These cabins usually contain two rooms and a small ladder leads up for a person to stand upright, but room enough to put several children in. As it never gets very hot during the summer, it is not hard on the children.

We saw several looms under a shed attached to the cabin. Many of the mountain women are expert weavers and are kept busy, not only on their own clothes but those of the neighbors as well. There are enough sheep raised to furnish the wool for the necessary clothing and no more. The small gardens produce enough for the wants of each family. The men manage to raise enough tobacco for their own use, and as both men and women smoke and chew a large quantity must be grown.

Most of the corn is made into “Moonshine” – what little is left is used for food. With all the poverty and desolation we heard no complaint. We regretted that we were unable to make a linger stay for we were beginning to be deeply interested in the country.”

To be continued…

Tom Moses’ Trips – West Virginia, 1885

“Another long tramp into the wilderness brought us to the head of the north branch of the Potomac, a spring as little known as the source of the River Nile. We tramped through jungles. Forded streams and climbed precipices until I gave out and had to rest and take the good-natured jibes of [Henry C.]Tryon and [John H.] Young.

After a good rest, in which my tramping friends participated, we pushed onto the Potomac. It is a narrow powerful stream; a number of cataracts, in a series of eleven bold leaps, are a shining flood down the mountain side; gloomy chasms open from either side, dense, dark laurel thickets choke every approach, but through all the vigorous, bright stream leaps and shouts with a mad joy as it forces, its way on to the ocean. In the early spring this stream must be very powerful as is indicates by the amount of good-sized logs and debris of all kinds piled up on the banks, at present out of reach of the water which, at this season of year, is clear and cold.

The trout are never molested unless there is a big dinner in sight. Had we had the time we could have made some very good sketches, but in place of sitting down for that we wearily traced our steps. The sun had set and the air was cooling rapidly.

What a surprise awaited us at the hotel! The trout had been molested and a big dish of them was ready for us, with side dishes of venison. It would not be to my credit to tell how many we three ate. The following day we rested and late in the afternoon, we had the engineer take us back to Schell. We received a hearty welcome from all, even from Murphy, and were told the latest news. A firm of Tanners were going to a mill at Davis to cut, grind and pack hemlock bark to be used in tanning leather and to cut trees into lumber. All this would put a lot of sawdust in the river, kill the fish and ruin virgin forests. It will also bring a number of men in to the wilderness – the type that will make “Moonshine Stilling” more profitable. A summer hotel is also contemplated for Davis and the West Maryland Road (called “The Senatorial Railroad”) will be put through to Elkins. The next time we go to Davis and the wilderness we will have to wear a coat to dinner and tip the waiter.

Several more sketches were added to our collections. While I was making one I was compelled to set my easel in the water, my stool was partly in the water, but my feet were dry. I was along, half dreaming, viewing the big subject before me when I was suddenly aroused by a girl’s loud laughter. I could not make out from whence it came as I had not discovered any worn path or trail with the exception of a large log which lay across the brook. This was hewn flat on the top, but it did not seem to lead to any path. I soon saw two young girl’s coming through the jungle and heading for the hewn log which was large enough for a horse to cross. The undiscovered path from the far end of the log must have led to some settlement back in the wilderness. As soon as the girls discovered me laughter ceased. One was a typical mountaineer while the other was from some city or small town. The mountain girl had neither shoes nor stockings and no head covering; a simple calico dress was her make-up. The city girl was nicely dressed – shoes, stockings and hat. They were rather shy but I spoke pleasantly to them and they ventured near enough to see what I was doing.

As they wanted to cross the Blackwater I walked down to the boat and rowed them across, then went back to my painting. In the solitude of the woods I dislike very much being disturbed as, in this case, I seem to lose the feeling with which I was inspired at the beginning of the sketch, to the extent that I do not get the same result that I do when I hear no human voice, nothing but the many noises of the woods.”

Tom Moses’ Trips – West Virginia, 1885

“The peculiar beauty of the [Blackwater] Falls is due, however, to the unapproachably wild surroundings, the river being enclosed between two ramparts of mountains. Down the precipices of one side [John H.] Young and I climbed, but the wall of rock on the other side is too sheer; the foot of man has never scaled it. Vines and elk-wood cover both sides, from the airy summit to the rushing brown water below. It is the inaccessible, utter solitude of the place which gives it its singular charm. After you have reached it, at the risk of your life, you think of it forever after with a sense of possession – it belongs to you, and to no one else. At the foot of the falls is a well about twelve feet deep, worn smooth and round by the action of the rock of a loose stone which the water has revolved incessantly but never had enough force to drive out.

The wilderness runs back from the river hundreds of miles and is, as yet, literally unexplored by civilized people, according to the word of our landlord Davis. There is a house named Koesson’s somewhere in the wilderness, where a German of the name, together with four other families, settled fifty years ago. They never appeared in the settlement, lived upon game and a few pigs, dressed in skins and had all property in common. “They took nyther law, decency nor God in that wilderness,” said the landlord, and I reckon they haven’t found any to speak of since.

An energetic explorer of this range of mountains, from Pittsburg, succeeded, in the summer of 1878, in taking a boat and launching it in Blackwater. It was the first one that had ever insulted that untamed little savage of a stream. He proposes to finish his work by venturing into the heart of Canaan, as the natives call the wilderness, and unearth this barbarous tribe.

We spent a day near the Dobbin House – a ruined old building within three miles of Davis. The landlord informed us that it was built by a Judge Dobbin at the outbreak of the Civil War. He wanted to escape the worry and excitement, so he settled here until the strife was over, then moved back to civilization, leaving a lot of cheap furniture and cooking utensils for the use of sportsman, artists and guides, with a request “not to remove anything as souvenirs but make use of everything and occupy the house as long as you wish.” It was a large two-story affair, with a mammoth stone fire-place and was certainly a good shelter for anyone. I fear it will not remain there much longer as there is no one to repair it and it was beginning to decay when we visited it twenty years after Judge Dobbin had left it.”

To be continued

I was researching “Koessen’s house” for this installment when something caught my eye in an internet search! “Koesson’s” actually appeared in an article written for In Harper’s New Monthly Magazine (No. CCCLXII. July 1880, Vol. LXI, pages 167 to 185.). I was shocked when I read the paragraph in the article and realized that it was the same location Moses mentioned in his story for the Palette & Chisel newsletter. The 1880 Harper’s magazine article was written by Rebecca Harding Davis and titled, “By-paths in the Mountains.” It explores the landscape and history of West Virginia through the eyes of its fictional adventurers, including the falls of Blackwater and Dobbins House. Her travelers journey in the same country that Moses, Young and Tryon would explore five years later. Could this article have been their incentive? As I carefully read the entire article again, I experienced a sense of déjà vu and noticed something else.

Here is the 1880 paragraph in Harper’s Magazine: “The wilderness upon whose edge our travellers had just entered, runs back for hundreds of miles, and is as yet literally unexplored by civilized people. There is a house name Koesson’s somewhere on it, where a German by that name, with four other families, settled fifty years ago. They never appear in the settlement, live upon game and a few pigs, dress in skins, and according to Jerry, have all property in common. “They took nyther law nor decency nor God in thar with them,” said the shrewed hunter, “an I reckon they haven’t found any to speak of since.” An energetic explorer of this range of mountains, from Pittsburg succeeded in the summer of 1878 in taking a boat and launching it to then Blackwater. It was the first that had ever insulted that untamed little savage of a stream. He proposes to venture in it this summer up into the heart of Ca-na’an, and to unearth this barbarous tribe.”

It seemed familiar as Moses copied the entire paragraph in his own story. He wrote,” The wilderness runs back from the river hundreds of miles and is, as yet, literally unexplored by civilized people, according to the word of our landlord Davis. There is a house named Koesson’s somewhere in the wilderness, where a German of the name, together with four other families, settled fifty years ago. They never appeared in the settlement, lived upon game and a few pigs, dressed in skins and had all property in common. “They took nyther law, decency nor God in that wilderness,” said the landlord, and I reckon they haven’t found any to speak of since. An energetic explorer of this range of mountains, from Pittsburg, succeeded, in the summer of 1878, in taking a boat and launching it in Blackwater. It was the first one that had ever insulted that untamed little savage of a stream. He proposes to finish his work by venturing into the heart of Canaan, as the natives call the wilderness, and unearth this barbarous tribe.”

There were more similarities between Rebecca Davis’ 1880 article and the article written by Thomas G. Moses over thirty years later. Did he need inspiration, or was he trying to pad out his own story for the press?

Then I thought of Jimmy Buffet’s line from the song “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes:’

“Good times and riches and son of a bitches, I’ve seen more than I can recall.”

Maybe the explanation was that simple.

To be continued…

Tom Moses Trips, West Virginia, 1885

“On a trip to Blackwater Falls we experienced a hard battle to get through the laurel, not so much ourselves as the unwieldy stools, easels and paint boxes, which managed to get caught at every other step, sorely impeding our progress.

On reaching the brink of the Falls we discovered a very precipitous bank, impossible of descent. We made a couple of sketches up the river from the brink, then tried to figure out some way to get below, for that was the sketch we wanted. Tryon was not quite through with his sketch, but agreed to follow us, so Young and I forged ahead down the river, trying to find a place to crawl down.

We went fully a mile before we found an opening; then the walk back to the falls was pretty hard – mostly over rocks in midstream, which was madly rushing over and around them. It was hard to keep our feet from slipping on the wet stones.

On reaching the bottom of the Falls we were surprised to find Tryon calmly sketching and smoking his big pipe and quietly giving us the merry “Ha! Ha!” We were quite anxious to know how he did it. He explained that he had come down on a big pine tree which grew within three feet of the bank and was fully sixty feet high. He had dropped his stool and easel before going down himself. For a wonder, nothing was broken; they just happened to fall on a lot of moss and leaves. One look at his clothes, face and hands proved that he had paid the price, but he did not mind that. The pleasure of beating his two young students (as he always called us) was all he cared for. The effort of getting down and back was offset by the good sketches we had made. On returning we asked Tryon why he did not return the same way he had dropped into the pocket. He looked at the big tree, shook his head – then went back with us.

Several years ago, possibly ten, a hunter was lost in the wilderness near Davis. His dogs returned to the settlement and were fed, but were unable to return with help. Two years before our visit the hunter’s remains were discovered in the thickest mass of laurel that could be found. He was identified by the papers in his pockets. Whether he was lost or attacked by man or beast will never be known.

It is hard to realize that within a shirt distance from hustling cities there is to be found such a virgin forest, affording the artist all kinds of motifs. As we went down the river from the Falls we discovered quite a drop, the numerous cascades being small in themselves but in the aggregate nearly two hundred feet. The Falls are about eighty feet high.”

Historical note: Blackwater Falls State Park lies just west of the Allegheny Front, a high ridge that acts as the drainage divide between the Ohio and Potomac River systems. The Blackwater River originates in the southern end of Canaan Valley, travels north and then west to reach Blackwater Falls where the water plunges 57 feet. An illustration of Blackwater Falls was published in an article from Harper’s Magazine Vol. 61, N. 362, pages 167-185. The article was “Bi-paths in the Mountains” by Rebecca Harding Davis.