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Showing posts with label MS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MS. Show all posts

Thursday, January 24, 2019

The Delta Bohemian gives Natchez Rave Reviews










The Delta Bohemian® posted a blog about their recent trip to Natchez and the Americana Music Triangle.  We enjoyed hosting Madge and Chilly Billy for dinner while they were here, and encourage you to read and subscribe to this amazing blog.

The Delta Bohemian is based in Clarksdale, Mississippi, where Billy and Madge offer guided tours of the Delta as Delta Bohemian Tours, and operate The Clarksdale White House and The Delta Bohemian Guest House.

Chilly Billy on the bluff at Natchez, overlooking the mighty Mississippi River
photo by Madge Marley Howell



Friday, May 6, 2016

Tate Taylor wants us to vote for Darryl Grennell for Mayor of Natchez. So do I.

Without Darryl, the movie would not have been filmed in Natchez. I thought, “This guy should be running this town.”  
No Images? Click here
Get on Up and Elect Darryl Mayor!
Letter to the Voters of Natchez from Director,  Tate Taylor
 
To the Voters of Natchez:
Natchez NEEDS Darryl Grennell to be the next Mayor of Natchez, and here’s why:
When I was working so hard to make NATCHEZ the location for filming Get On Up! I faced many obstacles, both in the city and from Hollywood. Natchez is not the first choice when it comes to setting up a project like this in terms of resources, community support, or accessibility.
When I met Darryl everything changed.
He was assertive, efficient and sophisticated in his approach to solving potential problems in a way that worked for both local businesses and the interests of Get On Up!. 
I thought to myself, “This guy should be running this town.”  
Continued...
Just for fun watch
the official trailer again!
From left:Mr. Boseman as James Brown and director Tate Taylor on the set of 'Get on Up.' 
UNIVERSAL PICTURES
Darryl saw the potential for the city both in terms of financial gain and community growth. He is a selfless advocate for Natchez and a trusted friend. He helped this
community shine in the eyes of the world when it came to hospitality and business savvy.
Without Darryl, the movie would not have been filmed in Natchez.  
The filming of Get On Up! not only brought international attention to Natchez,
it also brought new revenue and created jobs.  
Please join me in supporting Darryl for Mayor. 
Elect him to help us build the Natchez we all know we can have!
Tate Taylor, Director
 
The Help • Get On Up!
 

Monday, June 4, 2012

So Rose the Dead


Originally posted in 2009.  I found the following clipping at my great aunt's house on the bluff a few years ago. Couldn't ascertain the date of the publication, which I estimate at sometime in the 1930s.  "So Red the Rose" was published in 1935, so it had to be after that.

The author, Thomas Craven was an art critic with a decidedly jaundiced eye.  You can read about him here.

Enjoy!  It's kind of mean, which is probably why I find it so delicious.


Chicago Herald Examiner
A Sunday Edition

Culture of Natchez
Old Mansions Invaded by Tourists
By Thomas Craven

The spirit of the old South, the languorous, magnetic South, lingers on in the little city of Natchez. Situated on the Mississippi, with wooded hills and a magnificent view of the river and the low green fields of Louisiana, Natchez is waging its last fight against the irresistible forces of the changing world. 

As a commercial center, the town is a tomb, a plaintive echo of past opulence, as the sacred citadel of culture with its aristocratic embellishments. It is a landmark in the history of American manners. Here uncontaminated by the encroachments of modern life, you will find mansions, gardens and great estates and the ancestral pride which is the outstanding glory of the ancient regime.

Natchez is famous for its gardens, and that fame is abundantly justified on every hand, but the old houses, with two or three exceptions, are architectural messes. The houses erected from the fruits of slave labor and in the old days staffed with a retinue of black servants are enormous structures with endless balconies or galleries ornamented profusely with grilled ironwork.

You will see in these time-eaten mansions, some of the finest extant specimens of English silver, old chairs and tables of excellent design and incomparable craftsmanship, and occasionally, family portraits painted by real artists such as Audubon and Gilbert Stuart.

The peculiar appeal of Natchez is not based on the intrinsic excellence of its showplaces, nor can it be attributed to any superiority in matters of taste and artistic discrimination. It arises from the legendary appeal of the Old South; and that lure, critically examined, is rooted in snobbery and fantastic notions of superior breeding. 

Snobbery, of course, is not the exclusive possession of the South. We find it permeating the cultural aspirations of Americans of every locality driving our heightened artists into complete subservience to European standards. But as concerns the actual traditions and deposits of slave-holding lords, the South is still esteemed as the cream of American culture.

For this reason, Natchez attracts to its hallowed atmosphere an annual pilgrimage of culture seekers. Conscious of its superiority and literally bankrupt, the town, in plain language, has been forced to sell its most cherished possession, its culture, to outsiders with money to spend. Every spring a week is set aside for the exploitation of inherited treasures and family pride. 

The far-famed old mansions are thrown open to the public – admission twenty-five cents:  visitors are fed and quartered at reasonable rates in houses which, some years ago, could not be penetrated for love or money: the skeleton in every closet is exhibited for a small consideration; and there are other sources of revenue – costume balls, parades, festivals, and garden parties.

Last spring the PILGRIMAGE netted the town about $40,000 and enabled the mortified aristocrats to carry on another twelve months.

After the curiosity seekers have departed, laden with cultural baggage and sometimes with antique chairs and soup tureens, the aristocrats close the doors of their august abodes and meditate on the glories of a vanished society -- the life described by Stark Young in his fable. SO ROSE THE DEAD.


Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Matters Familia - The Long Farewell

203 Clifton Avenue, Natchez, Mississippi
In 1885, my great grandfather, William Howard Pritchartt (Will) of St. Louis, Missouri, was a purser on a steamboat on the Anchor Line on the Mississippi River.  While on a cruise downriver to Natchez, Mississippi, he met and fell in love with Miss Anne Mounger, also of St. Louis.  After he married her, they returned to Natchez and he bought two lots on the bluff overlooking the river and built this house, completed in 1900 for the sum of $3,700.  No one but Pritchartts have ever lived there.

I had hoped the house would stay in our family for many more generations, but things don't always work out the way we want, and we sold it last week to friends who will be loving stewards for our old legacy.  

In cleaning out the house for the first time in over a century, I found a small photo album with pictures of a family during happy times. The inscription at the beginning of the album reads, "To dear Aunt Lucy with love from Anne."  

Anne was my great grandmother, and was the photographer who took and developed these photos.  I remember hearing about her love of photography and found a metal cannister with Kodak stamped upon it as well as a metal gelatin developing tray.

Will and Anne had two children -- Anne Mounger, born in 1895 and William Howard, born in 1898 -- who brought their parents many joys.  Anne, who was called Annet, lived there until her death in 1992.    She was my great aunt, a brilliant woman who never married, but traveled the world, studied history at Barnard and returned to Natchez where she taught mathematics for 40 years.  William Howard, my grandfather, was called "Boy" most of his life, and was a quiet, gentle man who offered his own family an example of an honest, dignified life.

I offer the following as a tribute to my forebearers. 

(Simply click on a photo to see a larger version.)

Newspaper article from St. Louis Newspaper about 1885 

"SURPRISE - Among the many gallant and courteous gentlemen who do service in the offices of the various steamboats coming to this city, and particularly those of the Anchor Line, there are none perhaps more courteous, polite and efficient than Mr. W.H. Pritchartt, of the steamer Arkansas City. 

As a proof of his popularity, and the esteem in which he is held, especially by the ladies who are fortunate enough to secure passage on this boat, Mr. Pritchartt was presented, on the last trip to Natchez, with a beautiful stool or ottoman cover, exquisitely finished, and wrought in various colors. To say that the fortunate gentleman was surprised would be putting it mildly. 

The fair donors of the handsome present were Mr. Capt. C.B. Ziegler, Mrs. Oscar Moore, and Miss Anne Mounger, all of St. Louis. These ladies are making the round trip on the elegant steamer. Mr. Pritchartt is proud of his treasure, but cannot realize how the ladies managed to resurrect Joseph's many colored coat of ancient fame, with which the dainty piece of work is finished." 

Taken in November, 1888


Excerpt from his obit in 1934 - Natchez Democrat: 

Will
". . . For a time he was connected with the Anchor Line steamboats on the Mississippi river. When he came to Natchez in Sept, 1889, he went into business with the late Captain S.E. Rundle. In 1905, with W.R. Wade, he organized the firm of W.H. Pritchartt & Company and was connected with it until 1916. ............" William Howard Pritchartt was born in St. Louis in 1856 and died in Natchez MS 1934. He married the lady Annie Munger that made him the stool."


Mississippi Democrat Friday September 14, 1934
William Howard Pritchartt 1856 - 1934

VALUED CITIZEN SUCCUMBS AFTER SHORT ILLNESS - Funeral of W.H. Pritchartt Will be Held from His Late Residence in Clifton Avenue This Afternoon-

The death of William H. Pritchartt, which occurred Thursday at four-thirty p.m., brought sorrow to a wide circle of friends for he had been prominent in the business and social life of this section for many years.

Mr. Pritchartt was a native of St. Louis and was the son of the late William H. Pritchartt and Mrs. Maria Bingham Pritchartt.

For a time he was connected with the Anchor Line steamboats on the Mississippi river. When he came to Natchez in September 1889, he went into business with the late Captain S.E.Rumble. In 1905, with W.R. Wade, he organized the firm of W. H. Pritchartt & Company and was connected with it until 1916. He then became connected with the Famous and Price Store, where he remained for fourteen years.

He served as a member of the city council for many years and at one time was a member of the city Water Commission. He was a member of the old Prentiss Club and of the Woodmen of the World.

He is survived by his wife, Mrs. Anne Munger Pritchartt, one daughter, Miss Annet M. Pritchartt, and one son, W. Howard Pritchartt and one grandson, W. Howard Pritchartt, III, two sisters, Mrs. W.E. Henderson of San Diego, Cal, and Miss Sallie B. Pritchartt of Los Angeles, and numerous nieces and nephews.

The funeral service will be held from the residence, 203 Clifton Avenue on Friday evening at five-thirty, and interment will be made in the family plot, city cemetery. Rev. Joseph Kuehnle will officiate.

Pall bearers: Percy A. Benoist, J. Balfour Miller, C.F. Patterson, J Lamar Carkeet, Ernest F. Stattman and C.V. Hollis.


I found the stool about a year ago.





Annet, age 11; Boy age 8; Jet, age 10


Annet, Age 13.  When Annet was born she was named Anne.  But because her mother and grandmother both shared the same name, they stuck a "t" on the end at called her Annet (pronounced like Janet).  All her life, people called her Annette, never realizing the error, but she never corrected anyone.  I named my daughter after her.  When I told her, she exclaimed, "No one has ever named anyone after me except for an old Black man, who named his yellow mule after me when I was a little girl."

Annet, age 16
Boy and Ida, the cook

Annet and Jet.  Jet was the beloved family dog.  One night she came downstairs and went, one by one, to each person, saying hello...as it turns out she was saying goodbye.  After she'd greeted each family member she went out into the upstairs hall and died.


Annet, age 12, standing on the carriage block in front of the house.  The block remains.

Boy's Cat

Annet's Cat

Aunt Puss and Annet, age 12.  Aunt Puss was my great grandfather's sister, Sarah Pritchartt Caskie
Boy, age 10 and Bess, boy's dog.  The name is rather prophetic, as he eventually married Bessie Rose Grafton, whom everyone called "Bess."

Boy, age 8 and The White Gobbler

Boy, age 11

Boy's Cat

Clifton Avenue.  The bluff has caved off over the years until now the street ends just past the house.  A herculean effort has been made to save the remaining bluff, and it seems to be working.
Annet and Possum; February, 1910

Annet and Possum; February, 1910

George, age 2; Annet, age 13.  I don't know who George is.

Mardis Gras, 1909.  The Automobile Parade.  Annet, age 14 with unknown driver.
Natchez, Mississippi as probably seen from the ferry that used to transport people across the river between Natchez, MS and Vidalia, LA

Possum.  In addition to the cats and dogs, turkeys, chickens and Dolly the pony, there was also a pet parrot whose cage hung from the ceiling in the stairwell.  The parrot was often let out of his cage.  There was an old black man, an ex-slave named Wes who lived in a small shack behind the house.  That parrot loved Wes.  One night, Wes was awakened by the sound of the parrot calling, "Wes!  Oh, Wes!"  Wes ran outside in time to see the parrot being carried away by an owl.

The Side Yard

The New Puppy
The Side Yard

This is a daguerrotype.  I think it may be my great-great grandmother.  While going through the house, I found her marriage license, dated 1865.

On board the US gunboat des Moines, anchored at Natchez, 1906.  William Howard Pritchartt and William Howard Pritchartt, my great grandfather and my grandfather.

White Turkeys
Annet, age 12; boy, age 9

Annet, age 16 with her mother, Anne.

Annet, age 10; the fig tree brought from Farmerville

Annet in Colonial Costume, Age 15

I don't know who this is, but since it was the last picture in the album, I think it must be the aforementioned dear Aunt Lucy.
The Back Gallery

Boy, age 13 and Dolly

Boy, age 13.  I can still remember when there was earth on the other side of the street, all gone now.

Boy and Jet
Boy on the back gallery.  We still have those little children's folding chairs.

Clover, age 11 months

The Dining Room

The Dining Room.  We still have my great grandfather's rolltop desk.

White Wyandottes

The Sitting Room.  Although the piano is gone, we still have the stool as well as the flower painting on the wall.  I found the menorah in the pantry in pieces.  At least, I think it's a menorah.  My great grandparents were Catholic. 

The Sitting Room.  We still have those fancy Victorian chairs, which were bought from the owners of the antebellum house, Montebello, after it burned around the turn of the century.
The White Gobbler

Unknown

The Upstairs Hall.  The window at the end of this hall opens onto a balconey.  On warm, summer nights when I would sleep over at Annet's, she would put the daybed seen in this photo out on the balconey.  I would lie on the cot with the stars shining overhead and the lights of Vidalia across the river twinkling like jewels in the night.  To this little girl, Vidalia seemed a huge, shining metropolis.  Ah, the magic of childhood.

White Turkeys

"My First Brood"

Will and Boy, age 13
I was clearing things out of the attic the other day when I noticed the sun shining on the wall by the stairs, clearly showing the house address, which is painted on the glass above the door.

The sun sets behind the river directly in front of the house. I've so often sat outside to watch it turn into an orange ball against a pink sky that I'd never seen it from inside.

Every afternoon it shines the address on that wall. The house seems to be saying, "I am here. Always."
Since writing this post, the house was sold once again to Will and Gay Austin from McComb, Mississippi.  They've done an incredible renovation for which they won an award from the Historic Natchez Foundation.  I'm very grateful our old family home is in such good hands.


Related posts:

So Rose the Dead
Matters Familia -- The Fabric of Time
Matters Familia -- Photos of Annet Mounger Pritchartt
Matters Familia -- Ephemera
Found Items
Matters Familia -- Hidden Treasures