DeSoto Parish Louisiana

(These are notes used by Sally Gardner Moss Bannerman, when she spoke at a reunion of the Mansfield Female College in the early 1900's, when a number of her school mates were active, and the college was still open.  Sally G. Moss Bannerman was born on 15 Dec 1843, died 13 Sep 1907.  She was a graduate of MFC, probably in the class of 1861 or 1862.  The college held its last reunion in April 1980, honoring the last graduation class, that of 1930.  Each reunion has honored a graduation class, and the unusual part of these reunions is the distance traveled by alumnae to return and celebrate with their former school companions.  These notes were first published in the DeSoto Plume Book, Volume II.)

We little girls visited the brickyard frequently, and watched the slow process of moulding brick with great interest.  I shouldn't be surprised if we counted them on every visit.  I know we worried the workmen with questions they could not answer.  I distinctly remember the day the first brick were deposited on that spot.  In a few days the brick masons were on the ground, with barrels of lime and sand, and we were surprised to see them begin to dig down into the earth to build a college instead of going upward.  Work progressed rapidly, for June 24th was fast approaching and on that day the cornerstone was to be laid, and our first examination and commencement followed in a few days.  Oh!  These were to be gala days, and we could think and talk of nothing else, except what we would wear.  No doubt the anticipation afforded more pleasure than the realization.  But just here in the midst of our happiness, was the first real trouble my little heart had ever known, and oh what mountains we make of molehills in our childhood!  Masonry was in its zenith in Mansfield, but, unfortunately, my father did not belong to that fraternity. The daughter of the Master of the Lodge said, in the presence of my companions:  "Sallie Moss, you can't wear a white dress and blue sash, nor join in the procession on St. John's Day, because your father is not a Mason."

I was struck with amazement, for my father was a trustee and my low-necked and short sleeved jacket dress, tucked to the waist, was already made, sash bought, my first parasol, and open-and-shut fan, with a bouquet of artificial flowers with an oval mirror nesting by my side, long picnic gloves, all were ready for this Important occasion.  Oh, it was cruel to distress a child as that girl did me!  It was a constant thought, that dress and other paraphernalia floated before my mental vision, even when studying gerunds and supines in the verb amo.

The auspicious and long-talked-of day dawned bright and warm.  Impatiently I waited for the hour to arrive for our departure, for we lived three miles out in the country, so apprehensive that something would be done before I was there to see, and perhaps be seen.  I could not wait for the carriage and other members of the family, but asked my father to let me ride behind him, to which he readily consented, adding, "You must hold on tight, for you know Gray Bob is always shighing at something."  I would have risked a mustang fresh from the prairies of Texas, rather than be tardy.

We jogged along nicely until we arrived in sight of the scene of action, then the work of smoothing my dress, rearranging that blue sash fastened over the right shoulder and tied in a bow on the left side, pulling and fixing the lace straw bonnet, lined with canary colored crepe and a bunch of pink flowers against each cheek, trying to hold fan and parasol, loosened my grip.  The old horse became frightened at something on the roadside (just over near the Kansas City crossing), jumped suddenly and ran a short distance, but left me sitting in the sand with my parasol over me, my bonnet on my shoulders--and when my father came back, he found me looking in that little mirror to try to ascertain if I had changed from a nut-brown to a lily-white complexion.  I did not realize then that "Pride goeth before a fall."  But after much shaking and dusting and rearranging of those habiliments, my seat was resumed, and we soon safely reached the scene of activity--on time, too.

The president, faculty and pupils assembled in the Academy, and to my great joy, we were without distinction commanded to fall in line, in pairs, ready for the procession.  A number of Masons, with their aprons and other insignia, soon made their appearances, followed by a large and promiscuous crowd. After parading all around the campus to our hearts content that warm June day, we had no music, not even a fife or drum, to animate us, the Masons stopped at the northeast corner, and with the customary ceremonies, the cornerstone was laid.  We anti-Mason girls were very much amused with the "So mote it be" responses, but had no idea what it meant.  But we managed to see every article that was deposited under that stone--the wine, corn and oil, newspapers, kid gloves, coins of different denominations, etc. There they have reposed for nearly half-a-century, and there may they remain intact until time shall be no more.  Many of us saw the first corner stone laid that day.

If my father and his little daughter did not occupy as conspicuous position as the Masons and their daughters, we did not realize the fact.  Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise, anyway.  Commencement was fast approaching, and after such a demonstration on St. John's Day, the president and trustees thought the Academy would not accommodate the crowd that would attend, and it was decided to build a rustic arbor in front of the Academy, the gallery serving as a rostrum, or, as we called it in those days, a stage.  Upon that rostrum our class members were examined orally, parents and friends attended punctually, and no doubt felt very proud to have such ready answers come from their precious daughters.  Then we had music interspersed, I presume to break the monotony, and to show the progress of the pupils.

On Tuesday night our grand concert came off, and girls, music pupils, if you could but hear the music we had in those good old days, you would at least exclaim, "Tempora a mores!"  Such songs as Swanee River, Nelly Bly, Hazel Dell, Ben Bolt, Lily Dale, Old Dog Tray, Nellie Gray, Do They Miss Me at home, etc. The Instrumental music was simply entrancing, soul inspiring.  Pride Polka, Sontag Polka, Minnehaha or Laughing Water, Three Bells Polka, Monastery Bells, Waltzes, Rondos, Duets, often accompanied by Professor Plagg and his big violin, made the feet of the good old Methodists twitch and tingle.  I know I made my debut as songstress, all clad in white tarleton, pink sash, and a wreath of white roses with silver leaves and tendrils, sparkling and glistening in the candlelight--my friend and I appeared in a duet entitled, Billy Grimes.  I would sing it for you today--to give you an idea of the style of music of the good old times, but my voice is not as young and fresh as it was, and I fear you could not appreciate the effort.  But to prove the sentiment of the song has not changed in all these years, I will repeat the words:  "Tomorrow, Ma, I'm sweet sixteen, and Billy Grimes, the drover, etc."

We were vociferously applauded and encored, and as our repertoire was limited, we repeated the duet.  I'm sure Jenny Lind or Patti were not more elated with their first public appearance than we were.  Girls, I can't refer you to the opera, but perhaps you who are more familiar with operatic and classical music can tell me where "Billy Grimes"(1) originated.  The rostrum and pillars were decorated profusely with garlands of magnolia leaves, pinned together with thorns; no smilax in those days, but its mother, the bamboo vine, and all evergreens that were indigenous to ravine soil were brought to adorn that rustic arbor and rostrum.

Wednesday was a memorable day, for the first graduates were sent forth from the Mansfield Female Academy.  On that eventful day, three young ladies bade adieu to the infant college, two of whom are now living in Mansfield, Mrs. DuBois, and Mrs. Mollie Stuart Elam.  The same Alma Mater has sheltered and nurtured eight daughters of these worthy mothers, half of that number has passed away, among them our beloved, honored, and most efficient president for so many years, Mrs. Mollie Elam Sutherlin.  I cannot tell you so much about the music, but I remember the call for money that day, for the purpose of purchasing that old bell, lightning rods, and a chemical apparatus--the Laboratory was already projected.  Dr. Thweatt knew when and where to make that important call, and the good people under that rustic arbor responded liberally and with alacrity--the bell and lightning rods were paid for and $1,700 subscribed for the apparatus.

Our first commencement closed with great eclat, money was free and plentiful and everybody was happy.  That night, July 2nd, in that dining room, we had a grand reception (you would call it now), at that time it was a "conversation party," so called to distinguish.  Oh!  Such a crowd, jumbled together of all ages, sexes and sizes.  Cake, lemonade without ice and candy were in abundance and everybody had a pleasant time.  I know I did, for there I met my first sweetheart.  In those good old days, we had no Lowney's Bon-bons, chocolates, caramels, and the variety of fancy candies of this present day.  But there were small pieces of very common candy, wrapped In a variety of colored papers, frizzled at both ends, with a verse or couplet of very sentimental poetry wrapped around the candy, and that was given by the boys to their sweethearts, with the emblem.  Well, when one was handed to me, I was very shy and modest, I suppose, and no doubt he was.  I did not have the courage to open it in the little fellow's presence, for you know we can always tell by intuition what is coming, and I did not disclaim possessing in a small degree the characteristic erroneously supposed to belong to the feminine gender.  I was anxious to read that verse, but had to bide my time; but I was amply rewarded when I did open it, for the piece of paper upon which was drawn double hearts with an arrow piercing them, held the words: "In hoc signe vinces" [In this sign you shall conquer] written beneath the hearts.  Alas, my knowledge of Latin was too limited for me to translate it, and I hastened to our beloved president.  After his translation and application of the motto to the hearts, I was happy.  But I fancied that the incipient stage was developed into full growth the previous night, when that little boy heard "Billy Grimes" rendered so artistically.

"Backward, turn backward, oh time, in thy flight . . . Make me a girl again, just for tonight."(2)

1.  One version of Billy Grimes may be found at the Digital Tradition Database.

2.  Mrs. Bannerman paraphrases the first two lines from Florence Percy's  (real name Elizabeth Akers Allen) poem Rock Me to Sleep Mother, which was set to William Martin's music in 1860, and became a very popular song.

MFC Alumnae & Graduates 1856-1895
MFC Alumnae & Graduates 1897-1929
Brief History of MFC
 

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