I recently got into a conversation about Turkish corners, a popular decorative fad in the late 1800s and the early 1900s. I was asked why I hadn’t written about them.
For the second time in the last couple of months I answered, “I did about six years ago.” When I thought about the old column, I remembered I had since discovered additional information on it. I guess six years is long enough for people to forget an old column and for me to find additional information to complete the story I had started.
My adventure into family stories began with finding a photo of my great-aunt sitting in her Turkish corner. For those who have never had the pleasure of sinking into a Turkish corner, here is what you have missed.
Exotic foreign styles have long fascinated people in America. The 1840s saw an explosion of Egyptian motifs. Then in the 1850s the architecture guide books of Andrew Jackson Downing and Samuel Sloan popularized Gothic, Italianate and Moorish influences and inspired some of the buildings in Columbus. A popular early Victorian decorating guide, “The Grammar of Ornament” by Owen Jones, also used many Moorish elements.
One of the more interesting fads was the Turkish corner. With the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869, America’s attention turned toward the Middle East. In 1876 the American Centennial Exposition contained an impressive display of artifacts from the Ottoman Empire. The public’s interest in things Middle Eastern or Oriental mushroomed. Out of that interest arose the Turkish corner. Turkish corners began to appear in American parlors during the late 1870s and reached their peak of popularity during the 1890s. They provided a way in which middle class Americans could, without much expense, add a touch of the exotic to their homes.
Just what was a Turkish corner? That is best answered by a description given in Will Harben’s 1908 novel, “Gilbert Neal.” Harben wrote, “His feet sank deep into rare rugs, and the Turkish corner, with its lounge and billows of downy pillows, its cushioned stool, tabourets, brilliant Oriental draperies and tenselled canopy was really a gorgeous creation.” A Turkish corner could be as exotic as the recreation of a Bedouin tent or as simple as a collection of Oriental pillows and foreign objects nestled around a comfortable chair in the corner of a parlor.
The lack of real understanding of Ottoman or Moorish style led to Turkish corners becoming basically any eclectic assortment of exotic furniture, pillows and objects placed in the corner of a room. The popularity of Turkish corners resulted in spin-offs such as suggested in “Helping Hand,” a 1902 publication of the Women’s Baptist Foreign Missionary Society. They suggested, “A Turkish corner is very nice in a girl’s room, but a missionary corner is better.”
When Turkey sided with Germany in World War I, Turkish corners, which were already going out of vogue, all but disappeared. Their demise was recorded in a 1918 article in House and Garden magazine. “No one used the ‘Turkish corner’ and it only collected dust, so it went the way of the useless. Then came the smoking room which was almost ungrateful in its appellation as though the man of the house were not permitted to smoke where he wished.”
Interior photographs of the old T.C. Billups home that once stood at 905 Main St. in Columbus document the use of a Turkish corner. The home was built by my great-grandparents, T.C. Billups and Ida Sykes Billups, in 1889. It was constructed in the Eastlake style and was the house where I spent the first two years of my life.
Photos given me by Marcella Billups Richards, my great-aunt and a daughter of the house, document the home’s interior during the 1890s.
Two of the photographs show the parlor, one being early 1890s and the other about 1898. The 1898 photo shows Marcella’s sister Elizabeth Billups Johnston in her Turkish corner.
Bet, as Elizabeth was called, died fairly young and I never knew her, though I wish I had. My mother always talked about what a fun person she was. She traveled, kept up with styles and enjoyed life. In going through a box of family mementos, I came across a small silver purse that had belonged to her.
It was not just any old purse but a sterling silver one with dragons on it. Not only that, but inscribed on one side is “EBJ” and on the other “First Prize Lady Driver Miss. & West Ala. Fair 1908.” I had often pictured her racing cars in 1908. I knew the family had an early Jackson model automobile and had seen a photo of my grandfather, Elizabeth’s brother, at an Ole Miss Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity party around 1910. I also have a newspaper clipping from Senatobia concerning students from Ole Miss driving around town scaring horses, dogs and people. In response local citizens were demanding that automobiles be banned from the town but that’s another story.
In 1908 the Columbus fairgrounds were across the street from Friendship Cemetery and advertised that “portions of the track in front of the grand stand were brilliantly illuminated by electric lights.” The track was not for automobile racing but for horse and harness racing. Elizabeth wasn’t driving a car. She was driving a single harness sulky, the small two-wheeled cart pulled by a horse in harness racing. For a Southern lady in 1908 that’s still pretty adventurous. For being “Best lady driver. single harness,” first prize was a sterling silver card case.
I have Elizabeth’s portrait, and she looks all the Southern lady, but the photo of her in her Turkish corner and a little silver card case show a touch of the daring and exotic for a Columbus lady of 116 years ago.
Rufus Ward is a Columbus native a local historian. E-mail your questions about local history to Rufus at [email protected].
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