The Flagship

 

It's a curiously simple collage picture,
a watercolor painting of a naval warship
steaming through a blue-green sea
next to a vignette of a handsome bearded man
who wears a flashy regal uniform and is framed
in a laurel wreath above two billowing flags.

In the lower corner is the artist's signature:
Willy Stöwer 

I recognized the name as I have collected
many of this German illustrator's nautical artworks on postcards,
but this uncomplicated picture intrigued me for two reasons.
The postmark date is 1898, placing it
at the beginning of the postcard age
as one of Stöwer's earliest postcards.

And that man was not the portrait I expected
to find on a 1898 German postcard.

Who was he? 

 Finding the answer uncovered a history of a failed empire.

SMS Deutschland in 1898 at  
Source: Wikimedia

The ship was called S.M.S. Deutschland for Seiner Majestät Schiff (His Majesty's Ship) in the Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial Navy), the navy of the German Empire which existed between 1871 and 1919. In 1898 when the photo above was taken, the S.M.S. Deutschland was the flagship of the German navy's East Asia Squadron. Here it is anchored in the harbor of Port Arthur, now known as Dalian, in Liaoning province, People's Republic of China. The position of the ship and its surroundings are very like the illustration on this postcard, but the dates do not align, which I'll explain later. 

The S.M.S. Deutschland was the second and final ship of the Kaiser-class of ironclad warships built for Germany by the Samuda Brothers shipyard in London, England. These Kaiser-class ships were ordered just after the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-71 which was won by the North German Confederation states which soon became the German Empire under the King of Prussia, Wilhelm I. These modern ironclad warships were considered military insurance against any future French mischief. The keel was laid down in 1872, it was launched in September 1874, and she was commissioned on 20 July 1875. It would be the last capital ship built by a foreign ship-builder for the German Navy. For the next 43 years all its warships would be built in Germany, with many more to come.   

The full postcard shows the picture of the ship centered with lots of empty space along the borders for a message. A caption explains the scene:

Flaggschiff "Deutschland" verlässt Kiel
~
Flagship "Deutschland" leaves Kiel

The sender's message is in German and dated 9 III 98. The writer had so much to say that they risked annoying the Imperial German Postal Service by continuing onto the back, which in 1898 was strictly verboten!  The card was sent from Altona, a district of the port city of Hamburg on 9 March 1898 and arrived the next day in Steinhorst, a town in Schleswig-Holstein about 30 miles east of Hamburg. The sender had a florid style and the last name is partly covered by the postmarks but I think it is addressed to Frau(?) Aug. Bruchmüller(?) of Steinhorst. 

The S.M.S. Deutschland was 293 ft (89 m) long and had a beam of 62 ft 8 in (19.1 m). It burned coal to fire eight boilers providing power to one 2-cylinder single-expansion steam engine that turned one screw propeller. On full throttle it could make 14.6 knots (27.0 km/h; 16.8 mph) and with less steam travel 3,200 nmi (5,900 km; 3,700 mi) before needing to re-coal. It was armed with one 21 cm (8.3 in) gun and eight 26 cm (10.2 in) guns, and carried a complement of 32 officers and 568 sailors.

In the 1870s steam-powered ships were still thought undependable had not yet become the dominant maritime vessel so the Deutschland was equipped with three masts rigged for sails. It's first service was in squadrons sent to the Mediterranean as Germany, a new empire, was eager to compete with other nations to be a major world power. In the summer of 1889, the Deutschland joined the German fleet which traveled to Great Britain to celebrate the coronation of Kaiser Wilhelm II. This fleet now had many ships larger and faster than the Deutschland so it was relegated to the training squadron based in the North Sea. 

SMS Deutschland before 1896
Source: Wikimedia

As more navies around the world began expanding their fleets, Kaiser Wilhelm II pushed Germany's shipbuilders harder. During maneuvers in the fall of 1894, the German navy simulated a two-front war against France and Russia. The Deutschland's squadron acted as the Russian fleet during the exercises.

Following this, the Deutschland was rebuilt at the Imperial Dockyard in Wilhelmshaven and converted into an armored cruiser. Work was finished in January 1897 when it rejoined the fleet. It now had thicker, heavier armor; a secondary battery of eight 15 cm guns; four auto-cannon for defense against torpedo boats; and five torpedo tubes mounted in the ship's hull below the waterline. The center mizenmast was replaced with a lighter pole used just for signaling. This was the ship that Willy Stöwer painted for this postcard. 

Willy Stöwer (1864–1931) in his studio, 1903.
Source: Wikipedia

Willy Stöwer, born in 1864 in Wolgast, a town on the Baltic coast, was the son of a sea captain and as a young man trained as a metalworker and engineering technician in German shipyards. He was a self-taught artist whose first work came from commissions to illustrate nautical scenes of commercial steamships and naval warships. He proved to be a very prolific artist, and over a career from 1892 to d 1929 created over 900 black-and-white and 335 color illustrations for 57 books, as well as countless  posters, postcards, trading-cards, labels, brochures and calendars. Stöwer's artwork was praised by Kaiser Wilhem II and he became the Emperor's favorite naval painter, sometimes accompanying him on several sea junkets around Europe.  As we can see in this photo of him in his studio, Stöwer painted on really big canvases which was probably part of his artwork's appeal to the people who lived in very big houses.  

The man whose portrait Stöwer painted on my postcard of the Flaggschiff Deutschland confused me because this was not Kaiser Wilhelm, whose imperial visage was instantly recognizable for his Prussian mustache with upturned points. This man's trimmed beard more resembled George, Duke of York, the future King George V, or his first cousin, Tsar Nicolas II. 

George, Duke of York and Tsar Nicholas II, circa 1890s
Source: the Internets

As it happens the man on my postcard was actually related to all three. He was Prince Heinrich of Prussia (1862–1929), the younger brother of Kaiser Wilhelm II. Their mother was Victoria, Princess Royal (1840–1901) who was Queen Victoria's eldest child, which made Heinrich, like Wilhelm, a first cousin of King George V (1865–1936). 

The German royal family was also related to the Russian Tsar Nicholas II (1868–1918) , so that Heinrich and Wilhelm were Nicolas's second cousins once removed through descent from King Frederick William III of Prussia, and third cousins as great-great-grandsons of Tsar Paul I of Russia. One can see Victorian genetic connection in the photo above, George on the left and Nicholas on the right. It was taken in the 1890s but I've been unable to find a source for the original image. Of the three cousins, Heinrich, born in 1862 is the oldest, and Nicholas, born in 1868 was the youngest.

Prince Heinrich of Prussia (1862–1929)
pastel by Max Krusemark, 1902
Source: Wikimedia

This portrait of Prince Heinrich of Prussia was made in 1902 by German artist Max Krusemark. The features and uniform resemble Stöwer's smaller portrait, but I think that is a coincidence since most royalty learned at an early age to model their uniforms in their most favored photogenic style. 

Since Heinrich's older brother was destined to become the German Emperor, Heinrich followed a different path. When he was 15 years old he entered the Imperial Navy cadet program which began with a two-year voyage around the world (1878–1880). He passed his first naval officer examination in October 1880 and began attending the German naval academy (1884–1886). In 1887, he was given command of a torpedo boat and then simultaneously the First Torpedo Boat Division. The next year he was made commander of the Imperial Yacht S.M.Y. Hohenzollern. 

When the S.M.S. Deutschland was refitted in 1897 for a return to service, Prince Heinrich was already an experienced seaman with the rank of Konteradmiral. In December 1897 as commander of the East Asia Squadron Heinrich left Kiel onboard his flagship Deutschland along with a second warship. They arrived in Hong Kong in March 1898. Since this date is the same as when my postcard was sent, it seems impossible that the photo of the Deutschland at Port Arthur harbor was used for Stöwer's painting of it. 

It was a chaotic time for a warship to be in Asian waters. In April 1898 the Spanish–American War (April 21 – August 13, 1898) began with the sinking of the USS Maine in Havana Harbor in Cuba. Soon the United States Navy was steaming towards Manila Bay in the Philippines where on May 1, Commodore Dewey, commanding the Asiatic Squadron aboard USS Olympia, defeated a Spanish squadron. In a matter of weeks the United States acquired the Spanish foreign possessions and become a major colonial world power. 

The Asian region was still recovering from the First Sino-Japanese War (1894–1895) when a modernized Japanese army sought to acquire the Korean peninsula from China. It was followed by the 1895 Japanese invasion of Taiwan which Japan occupied for the next 50 years.    

The S.M.S. Deutschland remained in China until 1900 before returning to Germany, though I don't know if Prince Heinrich stayed for the duration. In any case the ship and its crew were there during the turbulent Boxer Rebellion (1899-1901), an uprising of North Chinese peasants who feared the expansion of foreign spheres of influence. Militant groups of these peasants, called Boxers because they practiced Chinese martial arts, which in this era was called "Chinese boxing", attacked foreigners, destroyed property and railroads, and murdered Chinese Christians and missionaries. 

This conflict is remembered for the Siege of the International Legations in Beijing (June 20 – August 14, 1900), The 55 day siege was lifted by a military force of the Eight-Nation Alliance—comprising American, Austro-Hungarian, British, French, German, Italian, Japanese, and Russian troops—that invaded China to relieve the besieged legations. They did not march there. They came by ship.

I've greatly compressed this history yet hope it can still explain how this era of colonial expansion by European powers and the new colonial might of the United State was a time of tremendous stress for the world. There were countless conflicts everywhere that involved people fighting against colonial grievances, class injustice, and religious and ethnic oppression, many of which remain complex problems in the 21st century. 

At the turn of the beginning of the 20th century battleships were a way of measuring world power. The S.M.S. Deutschland was just one small ship that served a specific function but it became almost obsolete when it was first commissioned in 1875. When it returned to Germany in late 1900 it was relegated as a harbor ship and renamed Jupiter as a new battleship class would take over the name Deutschland. In 1906 it was removed from the naval register and in 1907 converted into a target ship by adding more watertight bulkheads and ballast. Beginning in June 1908 the ship was deployed in several exercises where multiple battleships and cruisers shelled it. Though it sustained around 140 hits from calibers ranging from 24 cm (9.4 in) down to 10.5 cm (4.1 in), it was not significantly damaged by shell hits above the waterline. However she was sunk twice by shells that struck the water and penetrated the hull below the side armor. 

The results of this target practice on an armored cruiser demonstrated that warships were difficult to sink by shellfire alone, but they were vulnerable to the until-then unknown phenomenon of diving shells. The Jupiter/Deutschland was raised both times after she sank, but after the last raising she was sold for scrap in 1908. 

Prinz Heinrich Cigaretten, circa 1910
Source: Wikimedia

Like royalty around the world, Prince Heinrich took advantage of his celebrity status and licensed his likeness for commercial use. This photo shows his portrait on a tin box for cigarettes. Printed inside the box was a company claim: 

"Prinz Heinrich cigarettes, made from the finest turkish tobacco, are proof that German-made cigarettes far succeed Egyptian brands. Sole manufacturer / Adler Compagnie Cigarettenfabrik Aktien -Gesellschaft Dresden"

The tragic irony here is that Prince Heinrich died of throat cancer on 20 April 1929 at his estate on the Baltic coast.

S.M.S. „Prinz Heinrich“ takes coal in the port of Kiel, circa 1902
painting by Willy Stöwer
Source: Wikimedia

By the time S.M.S. Deutschland was being broken up for scrap, Prince Heinrich had reached the rank of Großadmiral and made Inspector General of the Imperial Navy. At the start of World War One he was commander-in-chief of the Baltic Fleet. In 1902 he was honored by getting his name on his own armored cruiser, the S.M.S. Prinz Heinrich. And of course, Willy Stöwer painted a picture of it. 

The Prinz Heinrich was longer than the Deutschland, at 415 ft (126.5 m) but about as wide. It bristled with armament, including two 24 cm (9.4 in) guns, ten 15 cm (5.9 in), ten 8.8 cm (3.5 in), and four torpedo tubes. It was capable of reaching 20 knots powered by three triple-expansion steam engines, each with it own screw propeller. Surprisingly the ship's complement was a little less than the Deutschland with 35 officers and 532 sailors. During the war the Prinz Henrich served mainly in the Baltic participating in mine-laying and clashes with the Russian navy. In 1916 it was in need of repairs and deemed unsuitable for combat. Her main battery guns were removed and converted into heavy railway guns for use on land. The ship was taken off the navy register and moved to the imperial shipyard in Kiel where for the remaining years of the war the Prinz Henrich served as a floating headquarters for Prince Heinrich, the commander in chief of naval forces in the Baltic. 

 

Prince Heinrich seems to have genuinely earned the many medals and awards he wore on his uniforms. During his life he was an avid automobile driver who promoted the first auto races in Germany. He also was one of the first royalty to travel in Graf Zeppelin's airships. And when the Wright brothers brought their airplane to Germany, Prince Heinrich earned one of the first pilot licenses. Though I expect he followed his elder brother's political policies, I have to wonder what he thought about the terrible war that began in that fateful summer of 1914. Unlike Wilhelm, Heinrich had a broad military experience and surely understood the powerful and horrific havoc which was released upon the world. 

Prince Heinrich of Prussia (1862–1929)
photograph by Emil Bieber, 1913
Source: Wikimedia

This last photo appeared in a book entitled "Men around the Kaiser; the makers of modern Germany"  by Frederic William Wile, a prominent American journalist who worked as a Berlin correspondent for the London Daily Mail and the New York Times. About Prince Heinrich he wrote:

    It was under the personal supervision of the Kaiser's brother that the German Navy rose to the emergency with promptitude and thoroughness and made itself ready, as if overnight, to hold its own in the new conditions of sea warfare.  That is why the Admiral Royal, whose pictures so often make him look like a twin of King George or the Czar, holds a place in the affections of his Fatherland almost second to none.  Germans have had few national idols since Bismarck. Prince Henry is one of them.

    

    Thoroughly imbued with the democracy of the sea, with an active career of more than thirty years to his credit, Prince Henry is a sailor-man through and through—an admiral first and a Prince after- wards.  He has had little time, and less inclination for the luxurious pastimes of his royal estate.  The fashions and frivolities of Court life have never appealed to him.  His hobby is the sea, and he is happiest when cultivating it.  Naval cadet at sixteen, when the fleet was little more than a flotilla of nondescript frigates; battleship-captain at thirty, and rear-admiral four years later, 1906 found Prince Henry commander-in-chief of the homogeneous squadrons which the German Admiralty keeps assembled in home waters as one great sledge-hammer entity, steam up and eager to deliver the decisive blow at the psychological moment. An apostle of the "Ready, aye ready!" policy of perpetual preparedness for war, he was fitted both by temperament and training for the leadership of the Empire's battle forces afloat.

    Only the most urgent diversions, such as important foreign missions on behalf of the Kaiser, enticed

him from his flagship at Kiel, where, too, he has long had his home.  A stickler for discipline, his indomitable energy and devotion to duty were at once the marvel and inspiration of the entire Fleet.  German naval officers are notoriously the hardest working—and hardest-worked—in the world. They

had a constant example in Prince Henry.  He took a deep interest in the men behind the guns and the unseen heroes of the hold.  Regardless of personal comfort he participated regularly in the long

practice cruises of the High Seas Fleet in and out of season, and he is to-day given chief credit for the strategic and tactical skill which the Kaiser's battle squadrons have attained.  After Prince Henry hoisted his farewell signal as Commander-in-Chief of the Fleet three years ago, he was rowed ashore from his flagship by a crew of lieutenants, a pretty and affectionate tribute to the esteem in which the Navy cherishes him. 

Prince Heinrich of Prussia (1862–1929)
Photograph by Ernest Flagg, 1914
Source: Wikipedia

This story turned out to be a biography, naval history, and art review all-in-one. I had not expected to discover such a prominent, but now largely forgotten, historic figure as Prince Heinrich of Prussia hidden in a postcard. The S.M.S. Deutschland was not an important ship and did not participate in any great sea battles. Instead it represents a little cog in a gigantic military-industrial complex which led the nations of the world to war in 1914. Untold millions of marks, dollars, and pounds were spent on naval warships, each larger and more weaponized than those before. The race between nations to build the largest navy of dreadnaught-size battleships is considered one of the causes of the Great War. Tragically these monstrous and expensive battleships were not a decisive factor during the war. Instead it was new destructive inventions of machine guns, barbed wire, submarines, and airplanes that changed how a war is waged.

Looking backwards at the history of the Great War allows us to see how international political relations broke down; how military decisions were forced upon entire populations; and how futile it was to spend incalculable public money on a conflict that could never be won. In 1898 the outcome could not have been predicted or even imagined, but the wheels and cogs of the military-industrial complex kept turning relentlessly and mindlessly. That is how empires fail. I worry that in 2026 we are facing the same kind of unimaginable dreadful future. 

Prinz-Heinrich-Mütze
Prince Henry yachting hat
Source: Wikimedia

I can't resist adding one more historic note on Prince Heinrich. He was clearly a sailor who loved all kinds of ships and boats. Outside of the navy he enjoyed participating in yachting, basically a recreation on big sailboats. His naval uniforms were inappropriate for what was essentially an activity for civilians, albeit wealthy ones. So he popularized a wool cap that was the headgear of the Imperial Yacht Club. It is known today as a Prinz-Heinrich-Mütze or Prince Henry cap. It is usually made of corduroy in dark blue, black, or gray. It is similar to a mariner's cap, also called a Greek fisherman's hat, which I have in my wardrobe and wear in the cooler fall and winter months.  

However there is another hat in my home that looks pretty close to being a Prince Henry cap, too. It is on a bust of my father-in-law, Isador Caplan, who many years ago was honored for his generous contributions to a British arts organization by having his likeness preserved in bronze. The artist did such an amazingly accurate sculpture that Isador's glasses and his hat fit perfectly. Isador passed away many years ago but his bust is a treasure my wife and I are proud to display and tell stories about his life. I think he would be very pleased at his cap's connection to Prince Heinrich of Prussia.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where most folks are tied up securely to the dock.

The R. S. C. Orchestra of Rogersville, Tennessee

 

This is Cecile Justa Bidez
with her father Dr. Leon Aloys Bidez.
Cecile, age 17, played cello
(her bow is in motion)
and Dr. Bidez, age 50, played violin.
Both were college music teachers.

This is Eva Elsa Bidez
Dr. Bidez's eldest daughter.
She plays violin and
in this photo is age 24.
She was also a music teacher.

This is Hope Amy Bidez
Dr. Bidez's youngest daughter.
She is 15 years old
and plays cornet.

Between them are the rest of their college orchestra,
1st Row (L — R) 

        Hattie McArthur,
                                                   Albert Price,
                                                                                        Miss L. Franklin,    
                                                                                                                                        Georgia Smith

 

2nd Row

        Jennie Mather,

                                        Mary Logan Caldwell,
                                                                            Helen Brown,
                                                                                                        Nell Divine,
                                                                                                                                 Mary Haverly

3rd Row

                Miss Loonet,
                                                "Bob" Caldwell,   alias, Auntie Dinah's darlint'.

                                                                                                Lulu Hale

                                                                                                                                Lida Merriman

4th Row

            Maude Haltenbeck

                                                                    Ruth Powell

                                                                                                            Will Graybill

They were all members
of the Rogersville Synodical College. 
And sometime around 1898 they posed outside
at the entrance of one of their college buildings.

This large format photograph shows a group of 19 musicians, all young women except for two young men, with their music director, Dr. Bidez. There are five violinists including Dr. Bidez; three mandolinists; three guitarists; four pianists, each holding a symbolic roll of music; two percussionists on snare drum and tambourine; a cellist; and one cornetist.  

I can confidently provide all their names because they were all neatly identified on the back of the photo.  

However figuring out the location was a challenge
because there is no imprint of a photographer
and the ensemble's name was just an abbreviation
written above the photo on the card mount.

R. S. C.  Orchestra

The name of the director was written as just "Dr. Bidez" but the surname proved to be unusual enough to be distinctive in archive searches, as did the names of his three daughters: Eva, Cecile, and Hope Bidez. I found all of them, except for Hope, in the 1900 U. S. Census for Rogersville, Tennessee. Listed on a single census page, with 50 lines for each individual, is the entire school population for that year—principals, teachers, and students for the Rogersville Synodical College.  

Leo A. Bidez, "Teacher of Music", was 52, born in August 1847 in Belgium to Belgian parents. He immigrated to the United States in 1876. His daughter Eve E. Bidez, also a "Teacher of Music", age 26, was born in April 1874 in Belgium. She immigrated a year later in 1877. Her younger sister Cecile J. Bidez, age 19, was born in March 1874 in North Carolina. Her occupation was also "Teacher of Music". Hope Bidez was not listed but I discovered her life facts later.

There were 30 students, all young women ranging from ages 13 to 22, averaging to 17½ years. Most were from Tennessee or Kentucky, with a few from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Ohio, and even one young lady from Nebraska. 

Besides the three Bidez music teachers, there were two teachers of Latin, and one each for Art, Elocution, and Primary, all single women. There were two principals, Nannie McVeigh, the "Lady Principal" and William M. Graybill, "Head principal". Only Graybill and Dr. Bidez were married but it seems Mrs. Bidez was not then a resident. Principal Graybill's youngest son, William M, Graybill, Jr., who is the guitarist seated right on the bottom row, is age 18 in the census. But I think in this photo he looks younger, more like age 16, so that is how I calculated the ages of the Bidez family members.     

Rogersville is located in the northeast corner of Tennessee in the rugged ridge and valley region west of the Appalachian Mountains. It's actually just 90 miles northwest of my home in Asheville, North Carolina. Rogersville has always been a small town despite being the county seat of Hawkins County, and it current population in 2020 is 4,671 residents. In 1900 it was much smaller with only 1,386 residents. But that was still large enough to have a school of higher learning.  

According to a 1893 report in Higher Education in Tennessee by Lucius Salisbury Merriam, Construction of the school began in 1849 after the Independent Order of Odd Fellows (IOOF) purchased a 66 acre parcel in Rogersville. In September of the following year it opened with 116 pupils as the Odd Fellows Female Seminary, which seems a strange oxymoron as the Odd Fellows were a non-sectarian and non-political fraternal men's society. In any case, the society was soon unable to afford the expense of operating a school and the property was sold to a joint stock company made up of members of Rogersville's Presbyterian churches. 

The school prospered before the Civil War but had difficulties afterward. In around 1880 it came under direction of the Presbyterian Synod of Nashville, Tennessee, which advanced its mission to become a female college in 1892. For the 1890-91 school year the college claimed 170 students and 13 teachers. It seems likely that the 1900 census record listed only those students living on campus and there were many more who lived in the town of Rogersville. 

In 1897 the Rogersville Synodical College engaged Dr. Brez and his two eldest daughters to teach music there. That summer Dr. Brez's name was included in newspaper advertisements for the college.

Chattanooga Daily Times
30 July 1897

    ROGERSVILLE SYNODICAL COLLEGE — The strong faculty, increased advantages, healthful location, beautiful college home and moderate rates continue to attract a large attendance of excellent young ladies to this old and honored institution.  The patrons of the school are pleased with the mental, social and moral culture of their daughters, and realize that they have at Rogersville the best advantages and kindest attention at very low rates.  Conservatory course of music with four teachers.  Director,  L. A. Bidez, LL. D., graduate of University of Brussels and Royal Conservatory, Germany.  Forty-eighth session begins Sept. 8, 1897.  For catalogue, address. 

                                                                                W. M. GRAYBILL, President, Rogersville, Tenn. 

I found Dr. Bidez in a family tree on Ancestry.com. His full name was Leon Aloys Henri Bidez which allowed for more name and initial combinations in search through newspaper reports on him. After his arrival in America he used Aloys Bidez fro several years. Then in the 1890s it was just L. A. Bidez, sometimes with the honorific Dr. or Prof.   

  

Compared to many music teachers of this era, Dr. Bidez earned an advanced  degree and studied with notable teachers in Belgium. According to a 1934 newspaper report on the Bidez family, Leon's father was fortunate to win a lottery exempting him from military service. Instead he got an education, entered the Belgian civil service, and eventually earned a promotion to a high office in the Belgian treasury. For this he was given a splendid jeweled sword from King Leopold II (which was the reason for this report.)   

When Leon was a young man he also won the same lottery exemption and used his freedom to study law and music. Evidently his musical talent won his heart as he became proficient on piano, organ, violin, and clarinet. In 1876 he came to America to take a position in one of New York's orchestra. Unfortunately an Atlantic storm lengthened his voyage and when he arrived the position had been filled. 

Charlotte, NC Observer
12 July 1878

After staying in New York for a short time, he arranged for his wife and two children to join him and moved to the Cleveland, Ohio area. In 1878 he was engaged as a music teacher by the Charlotte Institute for Young Ladies in North Carolina. Advertisements for the school promoted him as "a distinguished teacher of Vocal and Instrumental music, of Harmony, Through-base (sic) and Orchestration. and himself an author of a Text-book on Piano-Forte teaching." 

By 1881 the school had renamed itself as the Charlotte Female Institute and described its music department under Dr. Bidez as "unrivalled in the South for the thoroughness and high grades in culture."  The institute also took pride in its several "instructresses" of modern languages, mathematics and natural sciences, history, literature, and art. Today the institute is known as Queens University of Charlotte.

Savannah, GA Morning News
3 September 1887

Some time around 1885 Dr. Bidez and family moved to Rome, Georgia where he became a music teacher at a women's college there. This school was founded in 1873 as the Cherokee Baptist Female College by the pastor of Rome's Baptist Church. A few years later it became the Shorter Female College to acknowledge the financial contributions of Alfred and Martha Shorter. In the 1880s it adjusted its name to Shorter College, possibly to placate parents who considered their daughter's height to be average or even tall. This private Baptist school is now know as Shorter University. 

The Bidez family lived in Rome for only a few years when they left in 1889 for Lexington, Kentucky where Dr. Bidez was engaged as a music teacher at Hamilton College, another school for young women. It was established by a banker, James M. Hocker, in 1869 as the Hocker Female College. In 1878, like Shorter College, it changed its name to Hamilton College in honor of a generous benefactor. It was at this point Leon Aloys Bidez began using the initials Dr. L. A. Bidez in reports of his conducting concerts, playing church organ, and giving violin recitals with his daughters. This school closed in 1932, during the Great Depression, when the number of students declined.

Lexington, KY Herald Leader
23 July 1891

This job did not last very long at all and by the summer of 1891 the Bidez family uprooted themselves to be replanted in the great prairieland of Emporia, Kansas. A Lexington newspaper notice showed that they auctioned off a lot of fine household items before the move. In Emporia, Prof. L. A. Bidez taught music at the State Normal School. Newspaper reports cited his educational background and the talent of his two daughters on violin, mandolin, and piano. A Normal School was a common type of college for training teachers, primarily for women but also men. Evidently Bidez schedule was relatively light as he found time in 1892 to travel back to Brussels, Belgium to visit his parents. He sent a letter to the Emporia newspaper describing city life in Belgium in contrast to American cities. He considered America better.    

In the summer of 1897 Bidez returned to the east where he and his daughter's Eva and Cecile were hired by the Rogersville Synodical College. Later that fall he received the sad news of his father's death. He seems to have stayed in Rogersville through the winter as he conducted or performed several concerts. But I suspect he returned to Belgium sometime in the next year or two as his name came up several times in Tennessee newspapers until disappearing in 1900. The school must have been suffering financial difficulties as it canceled its 1903-04 school year. In 1916 the Synodical College closed though the school continued to provide grammar and high school classes. Over the next decade the college buildings were demolished and the property was bought by the city of Rogersville which turned it into a public school for preK to 8th grade. In 2023 it celebrated its 100th anniversary.   

In 1901 Dr. Bidez was in Maryland playing piano at the commencement exercises at Mount Saint Mary's College and Seminary, a Catholic college for men and now a co-ed university. Whether he was engaged as a music teacher there or at its companion school, Saint Joseph's Academy, a Catholic school for girls is unknown.

All I can tell from newspaper reports is that from 1902 the Bidez were now living in Emmitsburg, Maryland, just south of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, where these two schools are considered the foundation for the Catholic parochial school system in the United States. One report on a June 1902 commencement at St. Joseph's Academy for Girls listed the names of Hope Bidez and Alix Bidez, the youngest sister, as playing violin and mandolin at the event. So perhaps this move was for advancing his daughter's education. As Emmitsburg is relatively close to Harrisburg, Washington, D. C., Baltimore, and Philadelphia this may have provided other cultural advantages for a musician like Dr. Bidez. 

However I suspect Dr. Bidez was developing health problems as sometime around 1905 he and his wife moved to Columbia, Tennessee, southwest of Nashville, to be close to one of his daughters who was now married. On 1 June 1909 Leon Aloys Henri Bidez died there after a lengthy illness. He was 61. He was survived by his wife, two sons, and four daughters. 

* * *

This story of Dr. Leon Aloys Bidez is not the one I expected to write about. After I properly identified him and his three daughters, placed them on the steps of a now forgotten school building in a tiny rural town, and figured out their narrow time frame of three years at the end of the 19th century, I might have ended it there. But I was intrigued by how a man from Belgium ended up in East Tennessee. He arrived in America in 1876 on the centennial year of our nation's founding. The Statue of Liberty would not grace New York's harbor for another decade. He clearly brought with him a special talent for music along with the skills to teach it. His background in what we now call classical music was not a sub-genre then. It was all the traditions of French, German, Italian operas, symphonies, and chamber music of Europe. He likely thought of it as the contemporary music of his time.

As a genuine professor, Dr. Bidez was in contrast to thousands of American musicians of the day who assumed that honorific, "Prof." just through their talent on an instrument, usually cornet, and their ambition to lead a band or orchestra. They had no educational credentials or degrees like Bidez. His knowledge of harmony, orchestration, and instrumental technique was the result of long study at a European conservatory, a type of music institution that was limited to only a few places in America.       

 

Bidez was also an example of a great cultural exchange in 19th century America when countless European musicians immigrated here to play in professional orchestras and bands. Perhaps he aspired to do exactly that, but circumstances in his life put him onto a different path as a music teacher. It helped that he had three talented daughters to inspire him.

When I began uncovering his career path I was surprised at the type of small academic institutions he found work. The development of small colleges in America, especially as railroad lines began linking town after town in the late 19th century was one of the important developments in the history of American public education. But we forget that in this era many schools of higher learning were restricted to men only. Yet Dr. Bidez found employment in schools for women, at a time when women were subject to many more civil restrictions and societal obstacles than they have in our 21st century. 

As I've outlined in this story, Dr. Bidez taught music at six different female institutions, possibly more. These schools promoted for young women a standard academic curriculum of Latin, elocution, literature, math, etc., but classes in music and art showcased a school's commitment to refined culture. I doubt that any mother and father expected to see their daughter become a successful concert pianist or opera singer. But they very likely believed such an arts education would provide their girl with better prospects in marriage.   

I came across the Rogersville Synodical College in an article found in a 1912 education journal entitled: The School Review, vol. 20, p. 458. Though the article was written over a decade after Dr. Bidez and his daughters taught there, the author was still describing the same college educational opportunities available to women in this era. Here is an excerpt from the beginning of the article: 

STANDARDS OF SOUTHERN COLLEGES FOR WOMEN

by Elizabeth Avery Colton 

Meredith College, Raleigh, North Carolina 

    There are in the South one hundred and forty-two colleges for women distributed as follows: in Maryland, seven; in Virginia, thirteen; in West Virginia, Florida, and Oklahoma, one each; in North Carolina, eighteen; in South Carolina, ten; in Georgia and Alabama, nine each; in Mississippi and Texas, fourteen each; in Louisiana, five; in Arkansas, two; in Missouri, eleven; in Kentucky, fifteen; and in Tennessee, twelve. North Carolina appears ignominiously to head the list; but an equally close-range searchlight might prove several other states guilty of an equally absurd number of nominal colleges. For three institutions in Kentucky and an additional twelve in Tennessee failed to respond to requests for catalogues. In fact, I am not absolutely sure that the above numbers are complete for any state except North Carolina. But as hardly a fifth of the institutions enumerated are giving any standard college courses, it is safe to assume that no institution doing any college work has been omitted.

    Only four of all the colleges for women in the South have been recognized by the Association of Colleges of the Southern States; and only six others are included by the Specialist in Higher Education in either his third or his fourth class. The remaining hundred and thirty-one southern colleges for women have never been classified according to any national or sectional standard. I have, therefore, attempted to formulate a basis of classification which might indicate, however inadequately, some distinction between institutions which are merely inferior secondary schools and those which are really doing more or less college work. With this object in view, I have during the past year compiled statistics showing the specific admission requirements announced in the catalogues of southern colleges for women; and with these statistics as a basis I have grouped all these institutions under the following heads:

    1. Institutions belonging to the Association of Colleges of the Southern States.

    2. Institutions offering from three to four years above standard collegeentrance requirements, but not conforming to the regulations of the Association of Colleges of the Southern States.

    3. Institutions counting two or more years of preparatory work toward a baccalaureate degree.

    4. Institutions counting from three to four years of preparatory work toward a baccalaureate degree.

Using these rules the author goes into detail, assigning only four colleges to the first group; thirty-four in the second group; forty-nine in the third; and fifty-five in the fourth group. Rogersville Synodical College and Hamilton College in Lexington were placed in this last group as examples of so-called "colleges" which actually only offered a secondary level education and did not deserve to be called a college. The author's main critique was that most Southern colleges for women did not follow accepted collegiate curriculums and failed to engage enough fully credentialed faculty. They also accepted younger girls who had not finished high school. Essentially what her research showed was that most of these institutions were really only preparatory or "finishing" schools that failed to deliver proper degrees in higher education.    

This next excerpt from this review of Southern colleges for women caught my attention because it directly comments on the use of music in these schools. 

    The tendency on the part of the southern girl to specialize before she has acquired even a good high-school education causes one of the leading distinctions between eastern and southern colleges for women. Of the 1,030 students now at Vassar, for example, only 100 are taking lessons in piano, voice, organ, and violin, combined; at Greensboro Female College, on the other hand, there were last year out of a total registration of 215 exactly 151 studying music. This proportion of music students-one-tenth at Vassar and nearly three-fourths at Greensboro-is, I find, typical of women's colleges in the East and in the South; and perhaps I should add that even the few who study music in eastern colleges are working primarily for an academic degree. This is not true of the majority of music students in southern colleges. Eastern colleges do not try to compete with conservatories, and they no more think of advertising their music departments than their departments of mathematics. A department of music is, of course, indispensable in a woman's college; but if an institution wishes to be recognized as a college, it is safer for it not to try to be "the leading conservatory of music in the South!"

We have to wonder if Dr. Bidez thought he was making a difference for the young women he taught in these colleges. Did he envision a world where women gained the right to vote, found careers in law, business, science, and even music? Did he dream that his daughters' talents might earn them a life on the concert stage or a position teaching at a conservatory? I suspect that like every good teacher he hoped his lessons would motivate a young person to become the very best they could be.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where it's ladies day all weekend.

More Portraits by Hermann Torggler and Other Artists

 

She turns her head and returns our gaze. Her candid expression might be an invitation, a challenge, or a dismissal. But perhaps that question is her intent. Nonetheless she wishes us well. 

Glück und Gruss! ~ Good luck and Greetings!

The young lady in the big hat has no name because she was not a real person. She is a product of the imagination of one of my favorite Austrian artists, Hermann Torggler (1878—1939). Her simple pencil portrait is on a postcard that was sent to Fräulein Emmy Trutschel(?) on 6 January 1899.    

In January of this year I featured a medley of Torggler's artwork in Portraits by Hermann Torggler. Today I expand on that theme by presenting more of his portrait drawings of young women and contrasting them with works by three artists who influenced him. There's a sub-theme about eyes, too.

Hermann Torggler was born on 27 February 1878 in Graz, Austria, the capital city of the southern Austrian province of Styria. His Wikipedia page is in German and is short on biographical details, but it seems that at a young age Hermann demonstrated an artistic talent worthy of study at the Königlich Bayerischen Akademie der bildenden Künste in Munich. It was founded in 1808 by King Maximilian I of Bavaria, but it is now known as just the Academy of Fine Arts without the "Royal Bavarian".

Akademie der Bildenden Künste,
München, Bavaria, 1900
Source: Wikipedia

In the 19th century it became a prestigious center for training artists from all over the German and Austrian Empires as well art students from other European nations. From 1813 it had admitted women, but in 1852 it reverted to accepting only male students. The Academy's grand main building was designed by Gottfried von Neureuther in a Neo-Renaissance style and finished construction in 1885. It was destroyed in WW2 but slowly restored between 1947 and 1959.

According to Hermann Torrgler's Wikipedia page, he studied at the Academy under two men, Wilhelm von Diez and Gabriel von Hackl. Wilhelm liked to fish. 

Wilhelm von Diez (1839–1907)
Source: Wikipedia

Wilhelm von Diez (1839—1907), was born Albrecht Christoph Wilhelm Diez, (in 1893 he was ennobled for his artistic services adding "von Diez") in Bayreuth, Bavaria. As a young man he briefly studied at the Munich Academy for four weeks, but he left to pursue his own education as a draftsman and illustrator for various weekly newspapers and books. In 1871, Diez was engaged as a teacher by the Munich Academy of Fine Arts and soon afterwards was made a professor there. 

"Mädchenantlitz" (Girl's face), 1896
by Wilhelm von Diez (1839-1907)
Source: Invaluable.com 

Most of Diez's artwork that I could find online at Wikimedia Commons were pictures of large scenes involving people in historic costumes with lots of horses. He didn't seem to produce many portraits of individuals. However this painting from 1896, entitled "Mädchenantlitz" (Girl's face), shares qualities that are in this next postcard by Hermann Torggler.

This image shows another young woman turned toward us, her wide eyes adding a bit of allure to her gentle smile. The printed title: H. Torggler — Studienkopf 8  or "Student head" is an art student's exercise, presumably done while Torggler was at the Munich Academy. This postcard is part of a series produced by the publisher, Fr. A. Ackermann, of München, which I am still hoping to collect a full set.

The card was posted on 27 September 1901 from Královské Vinohrady ("Royal Vineyards"), a district of Prague, to Wohlgeboren (Wellborn) Fräulein Grethe Fahrner of Krems an der Donau, a city in Lower Austria on the Danube River. The sender filled up all the free space around the picture with a message that unfortunately was written in pencil making it too difficult to decipher the words.

The other artist that Hermann Torggler studied with was Gabriel (von) Hackl (1843—1926). He was born in Marburg an der Drau, the historical German name for Maribor, the second-largest city in Slovenia, when it was part of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. Hackl was the son of a surgeon and after finishing his early school years in his hometown was sent to the University of Vienna to study anatomy, archaeology, and drawing. It is interesting how in earlier times higher education for many professions included drawing and drafting classes in their academic programs.  

Portrait of the artist Gabriel von Hackl, circa 1914
by Leo Samberger (1861-1949)
Source: Wikimedia

In 1865 Gabriel von Hackl was accepted as a student at Munich's Academy of Fine Arts where he must have excelled, as in 1878 he became a professor there. Two years later he was promoted to head of the drawing class, a position he held until 1919. This portrait of Hackl, which I believe is black and white photo of a painting in color, was made by one of his students in Munich, Leo Samberger (1861-1949). 

Two Women Sketching a Sculpture, 1878
by Gabriel von Hackl (1843—1926)
Source: Wikimedia

There are not many examples of Hackl's artwork on Wikimedia. Most show family groups or bucolic country scenes. However he was clearly very skilled in different mediums. This pen and ink drawing of 1878 shows two women, possibly private drawing students, sketching a sculpture. His careful attention to the women's clothing, hat, hair, and expression resembles many of the female characters found in Herman Torggler's drawings. 

Das Wunderkind, 1878
by Gabriel von Hackl (1843–1926)
Source: Wikimedia

Some of Gabriel von Hackl's paintings are historic scenes and I have to include this one because its title, "Das Wunderkind" fits with my recent story on two prodigies, Willie and Johanna Hess. This painting shows an event at an 18th century aristocrat's dinner party where a small boy entertains guests by playing a violin while sitting on the dining table. Another slightly older girl leans distractedly on the host's knee. A father figure stands in the background. The title alludes, of course, to Wolfgang and Nannerl Mozart who performed at many courts when their father Leopold Mozart took them on a grand tour through western Europe from 1763 to 1766.  

This painting highlights a German style of depicting famous personages doing ordinary things, a kind of historic realism. I suspect that the public's interest in this style of art was partly driven by publishers in the 19th century adding more illustrations to books and magazines. As we all know, a good picture can tell a story better than a thousand words. In any case, Hackl's subject matter, if he intended this picture to be the Mozart family, may have inspired Hermann Torggler's interest in musical subjects, and in particular, famous Germanic composers. I featured his series of composer postcards back in 2020 in Hermann Torggler's Great Composers - part 1 and part 2.  

This next postcard of Hermann Torggler is another Studienkopf, number XIX. This young woman, really a girl, I think, gazes at us with a subtle upward tilt to her head. It's enough to make us turn to see what she is looking at. She has an innocent neutral expression typical of a youth whose head is in the clouds. 

This  card was sent on 28 December 1899 to Monsieur Gerôme Walder of Mühlhausen, Elsass, then a part of Germany, but now known as Mulhouse, Alsace, France. It is a city near the border with Switzerland and Germany, the largest city in Haut-Rhin and second largest in Alsace after Strasbourg. 

Though Herman Torggler's Wikipedia page has only a brief sentence about this next artist, I think Torggler was tremendously influenced by him. His name is Franz von Lenbach (1836—1904). He was one of the leading German portrait artists of the 19th century, sometimes called "Munich's Prince of Painters". Franz von Lenbach made numerous self-portraits during his lifetime and this next one shows a serious artist capable of seeing into any subject's soul. (I believe it shows him looking into an oval mirror, so it is a reverse image and in real life he held his paint palette in his left hand, not his right.)  

Self-portrait by Franz von Lenbach, 1903
Source: Wikipedia 

Lenbach was born in 1836 in Schrobenhausen, Bavaria, the fourth child from the second marriage of the Schrobenhausen master builder Franz Joseph Lenbach. The father's first two marriages produced a total of 17 children, eleven of whom were still alive in 1844 when Franz's mother died.

Initially Lenbach's education and training were to prepare him to work in his father's construction business. After his father died in 1852 he was sent to a polytechnical school in Augsburg where he learned figure drawing and began painting townscapes and other studies. In 1854 Franz was admitted to the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich where he completed three semesters of basic drawing training before moving into technical painting classes in 1856. 

Though his home was now in Munich, within a few years Lenbach also traveled to many different places around Europe and was producing landscape pictures which earned critical praise that described him as a German Impressionist, though his talents covered many different styles. After his initial success and more travels around Italy and Spain, in the late 1860s he began concentrating on fine portraiture which accorded him the most success. By the end of his life he had painted the likeness of Otto von Bismarck, the two German emperors Wilhelm  I. and William  II, the Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph, Pope Leo XIII, as well as many prominent German and Austrian figures from the arts, society, and business. 

Portrait of a Lady
by  Franz von Lenbach (1836–1904)
Source: Wikimedia

This first example by Lenbach is simply titled "Portrait of a Lady". It looks very like one of Torggler's Studienkopf,  but it is a painting, not a drawing. It shows the same attention to expression, fashion, and posture that Torggler would follow in his drawings. 

Cosima Wagner, 1870
by  Franz von Lenbach (1836–1904)
Source: Wikimedia

What I had not appreciated until I began looking closely at Franz von Lenbach's artwork on Wikimedia is how many portraits of women he painted, including several connected to music. One that I had never seen before is a portrait of Cosima Wagner, née Liszt (1837– 1930), the wife of composer Richard Wagner (1813–1883). Cosima was also the daughter of Hungarian composer Franz Liszt (1811–1886). 

I won't go into the complicated love life of Liszt and Wagner, except to say that it was a monumental soap opera that ran for decades. In 1870, the year Lenbach painted this portrait of her, Richard and Cosima finally married on 25 August, eight years after the start of their affair. Later that same year on Cosima's birthday, December 24th, Wagner arranged for her to be awakened that morning by the sounds of an orchestra, a "Symphonic Birthday Greeting", which became known as the Siegfried Idyll, one of Wagner's finest instrumental works. 

It is now recognized that Cosima inspired some of Richard Wagner's best work. After his death in 1883 she ran his Bayreuth Festival as its director for more than 20 years. It was her dedication to his music that established its core repertoire around his ten principal operas, or "music dramas" as he preferred to call them. In some ways it was her vision that turned the Bayreuth Festival into a place of pilgrimage for all lovers of Wagner's music. (Read more about Bayreuth's Festspielhaus and Wagner in my January 2024 story: A Temple of Music.)

Clara Schumann, 1878/1879
by  Franz von Lenbach (1836–1904)
Source: Wikimedia

This is another of Lenbach's striking portraits. It is of Clara Josephine Schumann, née Wieck (1819–1896), the wife of German composer Robert Schumann (1810–1856). Clara Schumann was a virtuoso pianist, as well as a composer, and noted piano teacher. Though her husband's music she became  a close friend of German composer Johannes Brahms (1833–1897) and Hungarian violinist Joseph Joachim (1831–1907) among many others. 

In 1878 when Lenbach painted her portrait she had just been appointed as the first piano teacher at Dr. Hoch's new Konservatorium in Frankfurt, Germany, where she was the only woman on the faculty. Her fame as a concert soloist attracted many students from abroad, including Britain and the United States.  That same year the Konservatorium held events celebrating her 50th year on stage which she had begun in 1828 at age nine by performing at the Gewandhaus in Leipzig. They celebrated it again in 1888 on her 60th career anniversary. Clara Schumann remained at this teaching post until 1892 and is universally recognized for her contributions to improving modern piano playing technique.

Lenbach concentrated on Clara Schumann's face while only sketching her dress and leaving out any background. I find it a poignant and honest likeness of a woman who endured much sorrow in her life, yet lived for music.   

Yvette Guilbert, circa 1902
by  Franz von Lenbach (1836—1904)
Source: Wikimedia

This last portrait by Franz von Lenbach is of the French cabaret singer Yvette Guilbert (1865–1944). Guilbert was born in Paris and was forced to find work as a singer to support her family when her mother's millinery business failed and her father abandoned his wife and children.  She developed a style of singing French chanson which proved hugely popular in Parisian theatres and cabarets. By 1890 she was the headline act at the Moulin Rouge in Montemartre.  

For her performances she usually dressed in bright yellow gowns with long gloves and stood almost perfectly still as she sang, emphasizing the lyrics by gesturing with her long arms. Many of her songs were "patter songs", almost like monologues that told a ballad type story. Her international popularity increased when in 1897  she married Max Schiller, a theater impresario, and began touring Europe making successful tours of England and Germany. She came to the United States in 1895–1896 where she performed at Carnegie Hall in New York City. 

I think this portrait captures Yvette Guilbert unique individualism, though I believe this is another black and white photo of an original painting in color. It is a confident face of a singular entertainer.

This last portrait postcard by Hermann Torggler shows a closeup of young woman with loose long hair and a black ribbon tied around her throat. Her dark eyes and disdainful bearing suggest someone not prone to suffer fools gladly. This is not another Studienkopf  but has a title:

Meine Ateliernachbarin. ~ My studio neighbor.

We are left to wonder about this woman. Is she an artist, too? What kind of relationship did she have with Hermann? I think Torggler leaves the question hanging on purpose and instead wants us to use our imagination. That is the true purpose of all art. 

This card was never posted but dates roughly to 1900 like Torggler's other cards.  

Picture of a Woman with a mandolin, before 1904
by  Franz von Lenbach (1836–1904)
Source: Wikimedia

I found one last portrait by Franz von Lenbach that caught my attention because it includes a musical instrument. It's a pastel drawing, dated 1904, of a woman with a mandolin. It lacks refinement so I think it is more a sketch for Lenbach to consider using for a full portrait. As I looked at it, there was something that seemed familiar. I knew I had seen another picture of a young woman with a mandolin very like this. 

It is a postcard I featured back in March 2019 in my first story on the artwork of Hermann Torggler: The Girls of Austrian Postcards. The card shows a young girl seated in a kitchen and playing a mandolin-like instrument as she waits for a kettle to boil. Her attention seems focused on something hidden beyond the steam. The captioned title reads: 

Heimchen am Herd ~ Cricket at the stove 

The similarity of Torggler's drawing to Lenbach's pastel is likely just a coincidence. In fact, though the postmark is obscured, I think Torggler's image was likely done around 1899 to 1902, predating Lenbach's work. But artists are always drawing, sketching, and testing ideas. It's conceivable that they knew each other and shared concepts for new works or artistic directions.  I think the resemblance does show how Lenbach influenced Torggler's artistic style, even as he moved on to create his own original identity. 

I hope to add more to this connection between Torggler and Lenbach in future stories about Hermann Torggler's portrait postcards. There are several more in my collection which date from the years of the Great War.   

Self-portrait by Hermann Torggler (1878–1939)
Source: The Internets

Perhaps the best reward for my research this week on Torggler's teachers was discovering this self-portrait of Herman Torggler. There is no date but he appears to be fairly mature, perhaps in his 30s or 40s, which roughly would be 1908 to 1918. Note the portrait pictures on the wall behind him. It's interesting that in this picture he appears to be left-handed like Franz von Lenbach. Or was this a mirror image too? 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where the eyes of time are always following you.