Opening music …

[Trude Eccleston]
My dear Alice;
You are quite the meanest girl I know. Why haven’t you written to me when I know you have lots more time for it than I have. I am pining and homesick for some news of Staten Island. Do write & tell your famishing friend all you can.
It seems useless to say I am having a gorgeous time as I don’t see how anyone could help it down here.
If this is not the place to turn a girl’s head in, “so help me gracious.” Last night I went on a moonlight sail – Oh it was scrumptious.
Now Alice, do write me one letter before I leave here.
Love to all inquiring friends & yourself. Ever your loving friend, Trudie

+++++++

Theme Music …

[Narrator]
I’m Pamela Bannos, in collaboration with the Alice Austen House Museum, and this is My Dear Alice, a podcast series that explores the life of photographer Alice Austen through her photographs and these letters that were discovered decades after her death.
You’ll find images of some of these letters, along with photographs referred to here, at the website that accompanies this podcast.

Chapter 3:

It’s tricky to tell Alice Austen’s story through the letters she received because basically everyone is always asking Alice to join them or they are thanking her for sending them a photo or are relaying the time they’re having while they’re away from her. So we don’t exactly know what happens when they’re together unless Alice photographs the gathering – but which she does mostly seem to do. And yet, like any archive, we only know about what is there, not so much about what is missing. Just as there are gaps in these letters that were returned to Clear Comfort forty years after they were found in a closet there, from the thoroughness of Austen’s photography, it seems certain that there should be more pictures.

And even so, Alice is mostly behind the camera, and when she’s in the picture, she is sphynx-like, her expression, deadpan. In the handful of images where she is smiling or laughing, it is because someone is provoking her and she’s having trouble containing herself. My guess is that her own letters have a dry or wry humor.

At any rate, the collection of letters residing at today’s Alice Austen House Museum, where they were sent in the first place, do reveal more about the correspondent, even as they also help illustrate Alice’s relationship with each of them.

Here’s Julie Bredt in January 1890, asking Alice to visit her in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, where there are going to be numerous gatherings – things are always fun with Julie Bredt:

[Julie Bredt]
O! I am so glad you can come. Yes, I will expect you on the train that gets here at 4 on Friday the 24th, rain or shine.
On the 31st, the boys had promised an Assembly & Saturday a tea, so please remember you will not be home before that.

[Narrator]
For whatever reason, Alice didn’t respond, so Julie wrote again:

[Julie Bredt]
My dear Alice,
This is an extra letter, but I am going to ask you if you won’t come and stay a week or so with me. Now please say yes. I want you to come on the 24th on the 12:20 train. I hope that it will be jolly. There is to be an assembly, I hope, and I expect to have a little dance on the 24th.
We are bound to have fun, for there is a card party Thursday and a Tea and another card party. So be sure and come and bring two or three party dresses. Be sure and let me know right away, tomorrow if you can. But please come Alice dear, as I want you so much and Lent comes in February and there will be no more fun, until about June.
So, you must come; it is not far and I have set my heart on you
As breakfast is ready, I must say good bye.
In haste, Julie Bredt
Be sure and let me know as soon as possible.

[Narrator]
Alice did go to Bethlehem, joining Julie at her party – and letters to her followed. She apparently wrote home letting her mother know of her arrival, and immediately received a reply, filling in on the doings of the previous three days.

[Alice Cornell Austen]
Well, on Saturday I went to town, got the feather trimming, pocket comb, and stockings, of which there were only two pairs left, which were found after a long search, they said at first all were gone.
I had a great struggle at Mary’s for lunch first to get my order taken, then to have it filled, then waiting for change. I got quite wild and could not get into the street until a quarter to two. I was afraid I would be late at the Opera – but as I climbed the first stairs, I heard the first sound of the Orchestra. It was a magnificent performance in every respect.
There is no chorus in ‘Tristan,’ and no overture, but a long orchestral prelude before each act. I never heard such tremendous waves of sound, the orchestra seemed like one great instrument, the scenery very good, especially the moonlit garden of the love scene.
The enormous audience shouted & stamped till worn out, the curtain was raised 3 times after the first act, and three times the singers came before the Curtain.
Trudie & Edith were there. It was not over until 5 minutes to six, all but four hours. I got the book for you.
Take care of yourself my dearest Babe, and give my kind regards to Mrs Bredt.
From, Your Mama

[Narrator]
And then she heard from Trudie, who also spoke of the opera but didn’t mention seeing anyone. Alice had a subscription to New York’s Metropolitan Opera for many years – the season’s tickets are in her scrapbooks.

[Trude Eccleston]
I suppose you will be on hand for the opera this Saturday, will you not? Effie Emmons is going to have an at homes these next two Saturdays and I believe she is going to ask you to pour tea for her this Saturday. She asked me your address & I told her I would give it to her if she would come to the house, & I also told her that we had an Opera every Saturday and that I should not be able to come to her teas, which of course made her feel very sad.
“Tristan & Isolde” was simply magnif & I did wish you could have seen it. Last Saturday you did not miss anything as it was a repetition of the “Barber etc,” I did not go as I was sick & did not care enough about it to make the effort.
There is nothing going on down here this week strange to relate. I shall be away having some clothes fixed up, I must have a pink dress for the last Assembly on the 13th.
Now then Alice, remember me to Miss Bredt and with lots of love for yourself. I remain as ever your loving friend.
Trude Eccleston

[Narrator]
In mid-April, Trudie went with her sister Edith’s family to Fort Douglas in Salt Lake City, Utah, where her army Lieutenant brother-in-law was transferred. Alice photographed the family on their front porch in Staten Island and titled the picture, “Moving Day.”

Trudie’s first letter to Alice arrived a month later, acknowledging that it was the first she’d written …

[Trude Eccleston]
… so I hope you feel properly complimented. I have grown so lazy since my arrival here that I do nothing but loaf.

[Narrator]
Trude seems pretty carefree, conveying to Alice all her new experiences. I can’t help but think of Alice’s feelings in reading of the excitement of new surroundings. She had not yet traveled beyond the Northeastern states.

[Trude Eccleston]
The post is beautifully situated right at the foot of the Snow Mountains – we have an exquisite view of the Valley & the City below, and also the Lake, which is like an ocean & as blue as a sapphire.

[Narrator]
And what she must’ve thought at hearing about Trudie’s expanded social life…

[Trude Eccleston]
The girls who are visiting here now I do not like very much, they are too free & easy for my style – decidedly fast.
So much for the girls; now for the men. I like all the officers so far; I could not very well help it as they have all been so polite to me. If I have any preference, it is for the older bachelors with perhaps one exception; Mr. Gregg. We have had quite a flirtation in a mild way.

[Narrator]
In a subsequent letter, she wrote:

[Trude Eccleston]
I am having two very flourishing flirtations with Dr. Edie & Mr. Gregg. I like the latter best, but I don’t let on I do. Mr. G is much younger & handsomer, by far. The Dr. is an old hand at flirtation so is more exciting, but I have wisely decided to let up a little now as things are getting too hot for me.
Mr. G gets mad whenever I am with the Dr & vice-versa & that making up business gets to be too tiresome after a while.

[Narrator]
Trudie’s letter went on for twenty pages – 10 double-sided two-page spreads – providing details including of her dancing activities:

[Trude Eccleston]
The band here plays splendidly; I never danced to better music, and the floor is fine.
They have these informal dances every Friday eve. The band plays selections between the dances & we all go home at eleven.
Tomorrow night we are to have a big dance.

[Narrator]
And from a subsequent letter:

[Trude Eccleston]
This eve we are all going up to the hop room to raise Cain. One of the girls knows a whole lot of new dances and she is to teach us all how to dance them. We will also have the “song & dance” & “Razzle Dazzle” and end up with a ballet in which Mr. Gregg always excels as the highest kicker.

[Narrator]
She conveyed her sporting activities:

[Trude Eccleston]
I am gradually waking them up to tennis. The court was in a dreadful condition, so I woke the Colonel up to the fact that I was very anxious to play; so he has had a lot of soldiers fixing it up in fine style. So that now we are all tennis crazy, and we are going to begin operations tomorrow. I have been challenged by all the officers, so mean to have some fun and plenty of exercise to keep from getting too enormous.

[Narrator]
She spoke of going to the big Salt Lake, meeting one of the Brigham Young family, and gave her general impressions of the Mormons.

[Trude Eccleston]
I went to the Lake with “the gang” as they call themselves on Saturday and enjoyed it immensely. It takes about two hours to go from here on the train. The salt is so thick that one can’t sink. It is impossible to swim any way but dog fashion & floating is what everyone has to do as you can’t sit at the bottom.
I ate four bags of popcorn that day and a ham sandwich large enough to feed a Mormon family.

[Narrator]
Trudie is funny and fun and a lot about Trudie.
Near the end of the letter Alice’s presence shines through, alongside Trude’s younger brother, who also misses her:

[Trude Eccleston]
Tell Sam, the crushed morsel of rose is pressed in my bible, and your forget-me-not shall be put in even a safer place.

[Narrator]
Alice speaks the language of flowers here – as she will again, later in this story.
Trude ended her first letter encouraging Alice to send gossip and more letters, and finished in her particular way:

[Trude Eccleston]
Give my love to Julia and tell her not to try to comfort my friends for me. It is much better to let them forget me in a measure than to keep my memory so green all the time. Give lots of love to all my friends when you see them and write again soon.
With piles of love for your own dear self, I am your loving friend. Trudie Eccleston
I cannot write to anyone first – haven’t got the time – my friends must good & write me
first.

+++++++

[Narrator]
That summer, instead of joining the Ecclestons in the Hudson Valley, Alice visited Bessie Strong and her Uncle Pete’s family in New Brunswick, New Jersey; she attended July tennis matches; and also went to a place called Denning’s Point, by Fishkill on the Hudson, where she would repeatedly photograph the home of the elderly Denning sisters, who were distant relatives of her maternal grandmother. Jane Denning, her sister Emily Denning Van Rensselaer, and Emily’s daughter Emmie – lived on an estate called Presqu’ile.

Alice photographed the estate grounds, as well as the women and the rooms of the house.
Her interior photographs are exquisite in their light and clarity.

Each of the three women wrote to Alice over the years, in thanks and praise for her photographs. In one letter, well-known amateur photographer John Coates Browne is noted as recognizing Austen’s talent, suggesting that she leave her home darkroom and get a studio.

[Jane Louise Denning]
Mr. Browne says without any flattery, the interior of the church is one of the best interiors he ever saw. And he would be proud to have done any as well – and that the artist must be good indeed to be entrusted with such a Lens. I was telling him of your small accommodations, and he said tell Miss Austen she ought to make her work pay for a studio. That her photographs would pay well and satisfy any customer.

[Narrator]
Later, Alice sent John Browne some of her landscape photographs and he shared instructions on how to mix developer and other chemical formulas with tips for printing and toning.

The elderly Jane Denning would also praise Alice:

[Jane Louise Denning]
I think my dear Lolla you are a wonderful specimen of the girls of the present age.

[Narrator]
And she commented on Austen’s portrait of her sister and niece, with their dog, Beauty:

[Jane Louise Denning]
Emmy is delighted with Beauty and I am equally pleased with Emmy. Her downcast smiling face conceals the strong lines of thoughtful meditation on the misfortunes of others which characterize her life. Cousin Emily looks like herself.
And now I must thank you again in the name of the Presqu’ile trio.
Do give our love to your mother and aunt.
Ever yours affectionately, Jane Louise Denning

[Narrator]
The photo of mother and daughter Van Rensselaer were among others of the Presqu’ile estate that were separated from a bound album and sold on eBay last year. It is not clear from which collection they were derived.

In July 1890, Alice photographed Emmy and Emily and some local women and children who had come inside to witness the annual night-time bloom of the cereus plant. Seated in darkness, the group is lit by magnesium powder flash. Smoke from the little flash explosion veils the side of the photograph.

+++++++

Austen spent the rest of her summer in Bennington, Vermont, where Julia Martin was staying with the elderly Mrs. Cooper, who she would soon begin working for.

During her Vermont visit Alice photographed covered bridges, waterfalls, and vistas as she traveled by donkey cart – which she also photographed – and upon her return mounted large prints into a photo album – some of which also sold on eBay last year.

While staying with Julia, Alice met Mrs. Snively, Mrs. Cooper’s daughter, who Julia often mentioned in her letters. Alice photographed them all.

Altogether, Julia, Alice, Mrs. Snively and whoever else they could round up, had loads of fun. They went to a village fair and put their faces in the cutout holes of a painted backdrop of a group called the Simpkins Family, with Alice assuming a male role, and all the faces deadpan serious.

One night Alice photographed herself with Mrs. Snively and Julia Martin, the three of them in bed together, each with their nighties buttoned to their chin and an arm overhead. Julia feigns she’s asleep, while Mrs. Snively and Alice gaze off in different directions. Who really knows what is going on in this heavily staged picture.

Earlier that same day, a smiling Mrs. Snively arm-in-arm with another woman, pulled up their skirts and kicked their legs can-can-style, scandalously revealing their black stockings. That other woman, Mary Sanford, deserves a history of her own. In fifteen years, she and her life partner Helen Stokes would be living in Manhattan’s Greenwich village, active in the burgeoning socialist movement. Helen Stokes would become one of the founding members of the American Civil Liberties Union.

Mrs. Snively is a different sort of compelling character, being the wife of an episcopal minister with two small boys. She was nearly a decade older than Julia and Alice, who were both twenty-four during that summer of 1890. Julia was smitten with Mrs. Snively and Alice teased her for it. After their extended visit, they both wrote to Alice:

[Julia Martin]
Woe be, I have not been to see my “Idol” as you call her, so I have to content myself with looking at her photograph, for which I am greatly obliged to you. It is not bad, neither is it Mrs. Snively at her best. I suppose Mrs. Snively has written thanking you for the pictures, & I am overcome with jealousy. She is a trump & no doubt about it.
As I cannot get a letter from her, I have been to Mrs. Cooper’s & gotten a hat box of hers & shall keep it always with most tender care. And seeing it has belonged to her, I know it will preserve my hat from harm.

[Narrator]
Alice could be counted on for recapping visits by sending photos. The only letter from Eliza Snively confirms every photo of her that remains in the archive.

[Mrs. Snively]
My dear Alice –
Thank you so much for the charming photographs which reached me safely Friday afternoon. They are certainly lovely & I cannot tell you how much pleasure they have given me.
The picture of Laddie & myself are the very best we have ever had taken. I am very much pleased with Mother’s – it is a great thing to have her just as I see her every day – I really don’t understand how they all could have turned out so well.
Miss Sanford & I have enjoyed the Simpkins family & our dance greatly – the “Sleep babies sleep” is fine.
I can’t tell you how I miss you girls, I have been as blue as possible ever since you left.

+++++++

[Narrator]
Alice had started making dramatizations for the camera, and her subjects contributed with their own quirkiness. In group photos, they’d look in different directions or present a particular object to the camera. These seem to have been late-19th century ploys, as other group photos from the time show similar posing and gestures, some of which may have been left over from painted portrait conventions, others from the lingering novelty of the camera.

Today we have an impression of Victorians as being stuffy, humorless, and lacking color – literally – sometimes we forget that some of what we know of that era is through the limitations of photography. They had to stand still for the camera – sometimes for longer than felt natural. Early flash pictures feel more contemporary in the way they capture a moment. And the monochrome, or sepia toning, today used to convey the past or nostalgia – muted the colorful clothing and interiors, which from the patterns and textures, show fashion and rooms as nearly visual overloads – effectively dulled in every way through photography and the passage of time.

Alice Austen’s dramatizations for the camera remain enigmatic because their immediate context has been lost. We’re left with sometimes stunning images that resonate because they give us a glimpse into not just another time, but into the private lives of people so unlike ourselves. Or are they?

Here’s Julie Bredt:

[Julie Bredt]
Alice, do you know I am crazy to travel – also I seem to be possessed with the idea lately; it is so strange you should be, also. I wish we could go together – can’t we? Maybe you can propose something.
How lonely you must be without Gertrude. Is it not strange, everyone seems to be away traveling around the country. It is the strangest thing. A friend of mine sails on the 19th. I would have loved to go to Europe with them, but they are going to make quite an expensive trip of it, so my Mamma said no. I did not mind so very much.
Still, I do want to go somewhere, don’t you? To see something of the world; you know we are so young, and would like so much to see something of the world you know?

[Narrator]
Trudie Eccleston’s last letter from Utah, months before Julie Bredt acknowledged how lonely Alice must be without her, spoke of her flirtations with two men who were competing for her attention. One of those flirtations may have resulted in the officer’s transfer to New York. This man, only ever referred to as Mr. Gregg, appears in Alice’s photographs on Staten Island in the summer of 1891. He’s at the beach with a group of Alice’s crowd – and Trudie. He’s dressed finely, posing in the front of Clear Comfort – alone and with Trude. And Alice’s photographs in which she appears with Trudie take a decided turn.

In what, today, might be her most famous photograph, Alice and Trude Eccleston pose for the camera in a curtained and stage-like setting. Theatrical like Victorian burlesque, they stand facing each other in white corseted undergarments, black stockings, and white half face masks. Their hair is down – the only such picture in the entire collection, and alarmingly, Alice’s hair is almost to her knees. They lean toward each other, faces nearly touching, holding cigarettes to their mouths. The scene could only be more scandalous if it was taken from within a church rectory, which, in fact, it was, because that’s where Trudie lived, her father being the church minister.

Another photograph from that same August evening shows the two women in bed, gesturing toward the camera at the foot of the bed. Each has a hand open, palm forward, and Trudie holds up her other hand between them gesturing the number “two.” It reads as if they’re signaling 5-2-5. The meaning is lost.

Honestly, I’m a little lost as to how these photographs were even made. Both photos were shot with a flash, which still consisted of lighting a wick to ignite magnesium powder, creating a burst of light. Camera self-timers would not exist for another ten years, at least that’s when the first patent was applied for. So perhaps Alice was able to modify her camera somehow to delay triggering the shutter, or there was a very long wick leading to the flash ignition.

All of this is to say, things are always more complicated than they first appear.

A couple of months after these puzzling photos were made, Austen composed another of today’s most popular photographs from the collection, and which in this case, she titled or captioned, by writing on the glass negative, merging the image with text. Called “The Darned Club,” the picture features Alice and Trude, along with friends Julia Lord and Sue Ripley (who were cousins.) The women are divided into face-to-face pairs in profile to the camera. Trude and Alice stand close, their hands clasped with fingers interlaced around each other’s waist; Julia and Sue are in the same position but standing further apart – Sue with a stifled smile. Alice is the only one taking her position with total seriousness, standing so close to Trude that their bodies fuse, her shoe nearly on top of Trudie’s. Earlier in the summer, in another titled photograph, Alice and Trude appear facing the camera holding hands, while struggling to balance in the water in beach innertubes. Alice’s script says, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the twin characters from Alice in Wonderland.

The Darned Club, said much later to have been named by the men who were excluded from the women’s activities. The name also seems to have been a play on words.

Earlier in the summer, Alice’s mother had written:

[Alice Cornell Austen]
Sue Ripley came here to say that her Darning Club would be put off till Tuesday and would take the form of Tennis.

[Narrator]
These same women also had a cooking club, which met regularly, and was also photographed by Alice. There are a few letters that reference darning socks, which is to say, mending holes in fabric.

By the time Alice photographed The Darned Club, Trude Eccleston and Mr. Gregg’s engagement had been announced. With this information, it’s not difficult for me to read further into Alice’s presence in her portraits with Trudie. Still, there’s no indication or acknowledgement of this engagement anywhere in Austen’s archive – I found it in a two-sentence announcement in a San Francisco newspaper.

+++++++

Austen’s photographs and scrapbooks illustrate what was important to her. They give visual, albeit cryptic, glimpses into her 19th century life. The letters that she saved further illuminate the distant past, which is why they have such an aura to them.

Here’s Julia Martin, Julie Bredt, and Bessie Strong bringing life to activities that defined these young women of the late 19th century: horses – parties – dances – and fashion.

[Julia Martin]
The sleighing is fine & yesterday afternoon I had a splendid sleigh ride with my friend Mr. Durant. Two horses & a cutter & at the rate of “a mile a minute.”

[Julie Bredt]
The day I left you, I went up to Uncle’s first, and he was not down so I went uptown and got a dandy cape. Black Sable, just like Russian, only black. I am sure you would like it. Ask them to show them when you get yours.

[Bessie Strong]
Wish you could see my three hats. I have trimmed my evening bonnet: black velvet with gold trimmings and pink orchids; it is a thing to be proud of.

[Julia Martin]
This summer, Mrs. S has invested in a pole for her buckboard, and sometimes she drives two horses, and one goes like the wind.

[Bessie Strong]
For the last two Saturday evenings we have had choir meeting here and after the practice was over, we played “ring a peg” and last night, Whist. We had very good fun.

[Julie Bredt]
Last night we went to a spider party at Dodson’s. It was the greatest fun – they had twine run all over the house, a ball for each person. And then we had to untwist it and at the end win a prize. Then we danced afterwards.

[Julia Martin]
The ice is splendid, and we had a fine skate yesterday. The thermometer was eight below zero, but it was cold! I slept with all my underclothes on.

[Bessie Strong]
We had a most delightful time at the phantom party at Mrs. Wells’, and the Thursday evening, we all met again at a “Progressive Euchre” party at the Deshlers’.
Our last gaiety was a “dove” or “hen” tea – party. It was very small, only about fourteen girls being invited, but we had a very pleasant time.

[Julie Bredt]
I have been having a most hard question to decide; it is whether to have a pale pink mull, or a white and green for a ball dress. I have two whites, so I rather think it will end in me getting the pink. What would you if you were me?

[Bessie Strong]
Cousin Evie sent me one of the Staten Island papers containing an account of the “Cricketers’ Ball.” From it I learned that “Miss Austen was attired in white nun’s-veiling, profusely trimmed with lace, a pearl necklace and pearls on her hair.” Did you have a good time? Mr. Baldwin told me he went with your party and was dancing with Miss Eccleston when she sprained her ankle. It must have somewhat spoiled the fun for all of you.
I told Charlie Ludlow that you would probably be here for some of the dances – he seemed very much pleased.

+++++++

[Narrator]
In the next episode, all kinds of relationships take center stage – and Henry Gilman is back in the fray:

[Henry K. Gilman]
Hoping to see you in the not distant future. I am Truly Yours, Henry K Gilman

[Narrator]
This episode featured the following voice talent in their order of appearance:
Rachel Hilbert, Sydney Hastings-Smith, Reute Butler, Penelope Bannos, Liv Glassman, Ella Stevens, Natalie Welber, and Benjamin Jouras.

Sound editor: Kendall Barron
Original music by Nicolas Rosa-Palermo and me, Pamela Bannos.
Other music from FreeSound, MusOpen, and other public domain sources – links are in the website that accompanies this podcast, where you’ll also find images of some of the letters and photographs that are referred to in each episode. That’s My Dear Alice dot ORG.

Cast in the order of appearance:
Trude Eccleston: RACHEL HILBERT 
Julie Bredt: SYDNEY HASTINGS-SMITH
Alice Cornell Austen: REUTE BUTLER
Jane Louise Denning: PENELOPE BANNOS
Julia Martin: LIV GLASSMAN
Mrs. Snively: ELLA STEVENS
Bessie Strong: NATALIE WELBER
Henry K. Gilman: BENJAMIN JOURAS

Voices in the introduction (in order):
Ella Stevens
Maya Slaughter
Ella Stevens
Kylie Boyd
Natalie Welber
Graham Goodwin
Madeleine Bagnall
Efren Ponce
Cristina Bragalone
Reute Butler
Ella Stevens
Benjamine Jouras
Kristen Waagner

MUSIC AND SOUND FILES USED IN THIS EPISODE:

Theme music by Nicolas Rosa-Palermo: Interpretation of the 1889 Santiago Waltz 

The Edwardian Pianist (Adam Ramet) by permission:
1890: J.E. Peilgen, Danse Elegante
The Edwardian Pianist’s YouTube Channel

Sheet Music Singer (Fred Feild) by permission:
1846: Signor Blanco, Tu Sanduca (derived from)
1896: Harry Greenbank & Sidney Jones, from the musical play, The Geisha, The Amorous Goldfish (derived from) 
The Sheet Music Singer’s YouTube Channel

Musopen website:
1830: Frederic Chopin, Waltz in G flat major, played by Olga Gurevich. (licensed under Creative Commons Public Domain Mark 1.0 license)
1892: Isaac Albeniz, Asturias (Leyenda), from Suite española Op. 47, performed by Gordon Rowland. (licensed under Creative Commons Public Domain Mark 1.0 license)

Freesound website music:
Ohrwurm: Chordephon – mechanical zither (licensed under CC Attribution 0 license)
Sentuniman: nostalgic finale (licensed under CC Attribution 0 license)
Avnonsen: Aksamin Vakti Gecti (licensed under CC Attribution 0 license)

Free Sound website sound effect:
Werra: vintage camera flash powder and shutter (licensed under CC Attribution 0 license)

Adobe Stock music:
Two Souls (Jane Louise Denning Music) Audio standard license, via Adobe Stock.

1887 Alice & Bessie Strong: Elisabeth Briard Strong is a main correspondent. She lives in New Brunswick, New Jersey, where Alice’s Uncle Peter and Aunt Nellie also live. Strong plays the piano and guitar; Alice played the banjo (as also referenced in a Trude Eccleston letter.) Clear Comfort’s piazza often contained the elements seen here: a hammock, birdcage, telescope, and rocking chairs.

1890 Alice & Julie Bredt in Clear Comfort’s front yard: Julia Frederica Bredt was three years younger than Alice. She once lived across the street and her father bought the New York Yacht Club’s villa, next door to Clear Comfort. Julie was fun-loving and living in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania by the time of this photograph.

1890 Julia Martin with the Sibleys: the women appear to be wearing mourning clothing. Julia Taber Martin was Alice’s childhood friend. She wrote 87 letters in the collection – she will soon move to Santa Barbara, California. In 1890, she is living in Albany, New York, and spending time in Bennington, Vermont, with the elderly woman she is working for.

1887 Alice Cornell Austen with Tristan, the cat. According to a 1951 Life magazine article, Alice Austen named the cat after seeing the opera Tristan & Isolde, the opera her mother references in a letter in this episode. The Austens had two dogs and several cats throughout the years.

1890 letter read in this episode from Alice Cornell Austen referring to the opera Tristan and Isolde.

Metropolitan Opera season tickets and other tickets that were part of the items that the Staten Island Historical Society received as Clear Comfort was emptied in haste during the 1945 eviction.

1888 Emily Dening Van Rensselaer, her daughter Emmie, with their dog Beauty – a photograph referenced in this episode by Emily’s sister Jane Denning, who died in 1889 at age 80. (My mother Penelope Bannos, age 92, read for Jane Denning in this episode.)

1888 Denning’s Point and Presqu’ile: Alice Austen photographed the home (Presqu’ile) and grounds many times. These exterior and interior photos are on mounted pages that were removed from an album and sold on eBay in 2021.

1890 nighttime bloom of the cereus plant. Austen shot this photo in the dark, lighting the room with the flash from magnesium powder. She photographed the once-a-year night blooming plant more than once – there’s another reference that a bloom occurred at Clear Comfort at a later date.

1890 Bennington, Vermont photos: Austen spent part of the summer with Julia Martin who was working for Mrs. Snively’s mother, Mrs. Cooper. Together with another family, and Mary Sanford, they went to a village fair and there’s reference to a house with a bowling alley. Austen photographed Julia, Mrs. Snively, and herself in bed together.

Mary Sanford (who kicks up her leg Can-Can-style with Mrs. Snively in Austen’s photo) was a resident of Bennington, VT. She was also a photographer (Julia Martin references her in a letter in a future episode as photographing Chicago’s Columbian Exposition in 1893.) Her archive is at the Bennington Museum in Vermont. Sanford’s longtime partner, Helen Stokes was a founding member of the ACLU and the women were early socialists. They lived in New York’s Greenwich Village in the 1910s.

The intention behind Alice Austen’s dramatized photos from 1891 is unknown. Her negative sleeves go no further than descriptive notations of the photo process. Two photos: “Trude & I masked, short skirts,” and “Trude & I in bed,” were taken in Trude Eccleston’s bedroom in the church rectory on the same August night.

1891 Trude Eccleston & Mr. Gregg at Clear Comfort. Trude met Mr. Gregg while she was in Salt Lake City, Utah, with her sister’s military family at Fort Douglas. He was transferred to Fort Totten at Willets Point (now part of Flushing, Queens) by this time. This photograph was taken three days after the dramatized photos, above. Trude and Mr. Gregg’s engagement was announced in a San Francisco newspaper in October.

1891 The Darned Club (Alice, Trude, Julia Lord, and Sue Ripley.) Many years later said to be so named by the men who were excluded from the women’s activities, the name also seems to be a play on words. Alice’s mother refers to Sue Ripley’s “darning club” and the women also had a “cooking club.”

1891 Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. As a smaller image, I had seen the two women as trying to balance in beach inner tubes, but the larger image reveals they are inside barrels.