A treasure trove of books

By / / 12 Comments

I had the most amazing day putting away books today. No, really, hear me out…

I’ve spent the last few weekends working on un-shuffling our collection of auction catalogs, design references, furniture research, and historical books. We have books on antique lighting styles and manufacturers, Historic construction techniques, preservation guidelines, and Persian rugs. We have entire bookcases devoted to Historic house styles as well specific architects. We love how-to books on wiring, plumbing, and carpentry, and we have too many gardening books to count, though one would not know it from the state of our “garden.”  All of this was well-organized, beautifully displayed, and easy to access.  And, it was all packed into boxes by my husband months ago as we had decided to move the enormous mass of books from our little Falls Church house to the bigger house in Danville, where the sheer volume wouldn’t overwhelm the space like it was doing in Falls Church.  You couldn’t turn around in that house without facing a full bookcase.  We now have one room in the house stuffed full of empty bookcases awaiting transport to Danville, and space, glorious space, in the rest of the house.  Though I will admit my anxiety about not having many of my favorites at my fingertips, and the usual go-to response of opening a bookcase when I wanted to fact-check, I find that The Google usually has what I need, just not in as satisfying of a manner as I am used to.

As I finally got my bookcases in Danville restored, repaired, or merely re-assembled,  it was time to start opening boxes, and re-amassing the collection. To my intense frustration, my darling spouse made no attempt to box the books in any logical fashion, placing books on Historic mansions in the same box as swimming pool maintenance guides and old books from the period we had collected chronicling all of the Worlds Fairs. And none of those books had even started off in the same bookcase! It was as though our entire book collection had been tossed by the sea.

I can hardly complain, not having been part of the book-boxing process, but it was frustrating, no less, to go through the tedious task of re-organizing what had already recently been well-organized.

So far, my productivity from two weekends of unboxing books appeared less than stellar, as precious few were actually in bookcases yet. I had over 50 neat tall stacks on the floor as I re-associated each tome with its brothers in growing piles, as I measured the shelf space needed for each grouping, and decided which bookcase would become their new home.  I do worry that I will have to create a new mind map of the collection, as it will now be stored on three separate floors of the house, so an erroneous mind map could be frustrating, with much stair-climbing involved, when I can’t find a book that I seek.

This weekend was different, however, as I had tired of auction catalogs and the complexities of matching 19th Century sales vs Americana vs European paintings.  Instead, I reached for a dusty box of old books and beat the years of dust out of the first one. With some confusion, I read the title, and was surprised by its unfamiliarity.  I know, and have read, pretty much every book in my collection, and this ancient cloth-covered hardback was new to me.  In confusion, I picked up the next, and the next, still drawing a blank. The fourth book bore a familiar title: the Picture of Dorian Grey, but my recollection of that book is of a crisp shiny dust jacket, artistically embellished. This was a dull green old dusty book with gold lettering on the spine.  When I opened the cover to investigate further, it took me some moments to collect myself, as I danced around the room with joy.  The front cover was inscribed with a delicate handwritten name. Elizabeth Noell.

Elizabeth Noell became Elizabeth Noell Miller, the second Mrs. Miller to inhabit this house.  This brought me back up to a memory from eighteen years ago. After having bought the house at auction. We refused to sign the papers unless the auction company removed all of the junk in the house, everything that had been left behind by the previous family, actually, the original family who had built the house.  This house had been owned by Jennie and her first Husband, Charles Sublett, and Jennie and her second husband E. Howe Miller, and an additional three generations of Millers after that.  We asked that everything that the family had walked away from, everything rejected by the auction-goers that picked the bones afterwards, everything else left behind be removed from the house. Everything, except the books.  A full dumpster went out the back door the next day. Every broken appliance that the family had ever owned.  Don’t hate me for tossing 1950s blenders and 1960s waffle makers—they were good and broken, and no-where close to nostalgic in their states of discarded disuse.  There were piles of old Christmas ornaments; an entire pantry full of jars of mysterious, and likely botulism-containing black liquid; and the general remnants of a life lived that no-one, not even their close relatives, wanted.  I mean, do you really expect us to keep the previous family’s toilet plungers and dish towels? Yeah…no.

The books were boxed and left in a closet. The closet and the entire room they were in was eventually demoed, and the books moved to the attic for another decade.  I had completely forgotten about their existence until just now.  Okay, so, for those who know me, this incredible level of forgetting something so significant and meaningful is hardly a surprise.  For everyone else, interpret  this statement with dramatic effect as though it were a rare occurrence.
The one thing that the books had in common was that they were all terribly dusty, but some vigorous cover-smacking and page flapping took care of that.  The second thing was that they were all very old—not a glossy dust cover in sight (thus, the dust).  They were also very hardy, and in surprisingly good condition.  No flaking pages or cracking spines. Though the titles were dulled, but still readable on some, the rest were appropriately only slightly faded.  Many were lovingly inscribed Elizabeth Noell, and others Elizabeth Noell Miller.  While I expected her signature to be affixed to short stories and poetry, I was much surprised to find that the majority of Elizabeth’s books were on European history and travel, modern politics, philosophy, languages, and fiction from the time that was dense and nuanced, not the trite novels I had expected.  Even though Lady Chatterly’s Lover was the sole “romance” in the bunch, it is still a complex story.  Some Jules Verne hinted at her playful and imaginative side, but most of what she had in her collection was intended for her own self-improvement and education.

A particular book, The Miller of Old Church, by Ellen Glasgow, contained her maiden signature and a newspaper excerpt pinned to the last blank page in the book, proclaiming it in her delicate handwriting as her “Outlook for August 19, 1911” the newspaper excerpt stating “Miss Ellen Glasgow’s novels always combine an attractive rendering of character with a background of social problem.  In “The Miller of Old Church” one feels that Ms Glasgow is more successful in the first element than in the second.  Her men and women are delightfully introduced; their by-play or talk, their emotions, and their mutual relations are admirably presented, but the plot does not develop very strongly, and there is a lack of clearness in the working out of the author’s purpose.  This is to show the conflict in the New South between the old and aristocratic strain and the rough and practical rising generation, which may have grown out of the “poor white” class but has come into independent and vigorous existence.  Criticism aside, the book is thoroughly readable, is one of the best of this Summer’s novels, and has already interested and entertained a very large number of lovers of fiction.”

It leaves me to wonder how this critique is driving her “outlook,” and what is the significance of August 19,1911?  Given that the Miller fortune was “new money” with her future father-in-law arriving from Lawrence Massachusetts with very little to his name, and building a dry goods business and a tobacco business with great success; was she sympathizing with the heritage she would be married into, or was this an eye-opening novel for her, given the “old money” of the South from whence her own family heritage came?  This is one of the few books she inscribed twice, once inside the front cover and more elaborately inside the rear cover opposite this pinned clipping, literally stuck through with a metal sewing pin. 
Some books are inscribed with the names of other members of the Noell family, and other familiar names from the history pages of Danville itself, such as the bold signature of Mrs. James L. Pritchett, Danville VA 1914.
As I moved through the boxes, Elizabeth Noel’s signature gave way to that of Elizabeth Noell Miller.   The collection then shifted to the books of E Howe Miller Jr., starting from some of his medical references.  The gem of the bunch being an incomplete series of twelve volumes on surgical techniques through stereographic photos.
 

Flashback to 1981, Westford Academy.  Mr. Prescott’s Freshman Earth Science class where we were handed binders with the pages in them to be removed and placed flat on the desk.  We were given a set of stereo-view glasses affixed to a frame that sat on the desk at just the right distance from the pages.  Through these glasses, we bent over the alps, giant icebergs, cascading waterfalls, and deep canyons.  We peered at birdseye views of valleys gouged out by glaciers and volcanoes emerging from the sea.  We had a fully 3-D experience of the natural wonders of the earth, and we all LOATHED the experience.  Yes.  We despised every minute we were forced to look at such irrelevant things.  Or, at least everyone else did…I secretly enjoyed the dizzying perspective, and imagined myself floating above the world as I strained to see every detail, but I was sure to not admit it to my disgruntled high-school classmates.  I was already “different” and didn’t need to be seen as even more so.

These surgical stereo-views showed the diseased body part, and walked the future surgeon from incision through closure.  A few pages even show ungloved hands around the surgical site. Though the photos are in black and white, they are quite crisp and detailed.  Now I have only to hunt down some stereo-view glasses so that I can see the photos as they were intended to be viewed.  E. Howe Miller, Jr. eventually became Dr. Miller, a well-respected orthopedic surgeon, and the husband of Elizabeth Noell.

The medical reference books gave way to college-level textbooks, such as Organic Chemistry, then to grade-school books on French, spelling, and geometry.  This is where it got fun, as the future Dr. Miller drew pictures in his books.  From artistic caricatures with humorous commentary to rough sketches of things; he was obviously not the most dedicated student when he was younger.  His “Plane And Solid Geometry” book, autographed by him in 1895, had his grades penciled above the book’s Preface:
Chem-B
Eng-C
Dec-C
Latin-D
Eng Comp-C
Alg-C
Geom-B
Ironically, the Plane and Solid geometry book contained drawings of planes. Airplanes, that is.

Clearly, the future doctor needed to work harder.  One humorous inscription declared boldly in ink “Stolen From EH Miller.” Below this, a statement in pencil in a plain hand  responded “Also returned!  Thanks”.  Probably a tongue-in cheek statement made to a friend not known for his record on returning books.  Apparently the ploy worked, as the book ended up in E. Howe’s possession once again.  It reminds me of all of our extension cords, ladders, and power tools boldly labeled “Stolen From Tom Bells, 878 Main Street” in an attempt to shame workers who might think of making them part of their personal collection of tools.  Sure, it will make them harder to sell at our estate sale, but that’s not my problem.

At the end of the “First Book in Latin” is a pencil-scribbled theological argument:

“If God exists, he exists necessarily.

Yet, granted that everyone understands that by this word, ‘God’ it is signified something that which nothing greater can be thought, nevertheless, it does not therefore follow that he understands that what the word signifies exists actually, but only that it exists mentally, that which nothing greater can be thought; and this precisely is not admitted by one who holds that God does not exist.”

Though the theological argument dates back to the eleventh Century, I don’t find the works of Anselm of Canterbury in the collection.  It does, however, explain the presence of a well-worn book authored by Rene Descartes among the dusty books.

Another ancient book yielded a more modern surprise.  While fluffing out the pages to dislodge the tenacious dust, a colorful envelope fluttered to the ground.  There in changing rainbow colors of ink, a teenage voice from the 1970s trying hard to sound cool and aloof, yet interested at the same time; the awkwardness of a letter written from a teenage girl to a teenage boy was palpable and adorably charming and innocent at the same time.  While I would never divulge its contents, as the author is likely reading this, the great-granddaughter of E.H. Miller and Jennie Sublett-Miller made her presence known among the well-loved possessions of past generations.  It was slipped into a book inscribed with her grandmother’s hand.  Perhaps the volume was one that she, too, had read and valued.

As I finished the last of the boxes, the treasure I had hoped to find finally surfaced.  The last pair of books in the last box, a two-part series on the life of Napoleon Bonaparte contained the name I had most longed to see, but doubted I would.  The inside cover was stamped with not one, but two names, the top one, Samuel Sublett, and the bottom one Charles Sublett.  The same Charles Sublett who returned from the Civil war nursing his war wounds and wooing Jennie Crosby to be his wife.  He succeeded, and built her a home that would some day become my own.  That he didn’t live long enough to produce children to carry on his name and legacy is a sad thing indeed, but his memory still echoes strongly in this house, his onetime home, and home to Jennie’s second husband and three additional generations of Miller children.

The most challenging aspect of this journey into the past, ironically, was time itself.  I had counted the number of boxes and, correspondingly, the number of weekends before my big 50th birthday bash, and calculated the number of boxes I needed to empty each weekend in order to have the house presentable for the hordes of guests we were expecting.  Accordingly, I made a deal with myself that I would only check a small portion of these mysterious books for treasure as I was dusting them off and putting them away, and would leave the full extent of getting to know the Miller’s book collection to another time.  I hope to re-visit the collection in the future and look for more insights into the family who loved this house before we had ever laid eyes on it.  The entire collection is now comfortably ensconced in a single bedroom, with a bookcase I had previously earmarked for sale, now with a new purpose and higher rank among my collection of antiques, as it perfectly fits the entirety of this precious collection of books.

In a tribute to the owners of the books I had spent the afternoon handling, I dug out the precious few photos I have of Dr. and Elizabeth Miller and decided that there was no time like the present to begin putting out family photos.  A glamorous shot of the third Mrs Miller, and the figure of her husband as a ten-year old youth now also grace an ebonized etagere in the hallway.  The remainder of my Miller family photo collection now has plans for framing so that they, too, can remind us, and our guests, of the esteemed family who lived in and loved this house.

Carla Minosh

While I am new to Blogging, I have always enjoyed sharing the stories of my crazy life, so this is simply another medium to share, and hopefully entertain and enrich others. Perhaps you can feel thankful that your life is so steady and predictable after reading these, perhaps you can appreciate the insanity and wish you had more of it in your life. Either way, the crazy tales are all true (to the best of my spotty recollection) and simply tell the tale of a life full of exploration, enthusiasm, curiosity and hard work. I hope you all enjoy being a part of the journey.

Share with your friends

Related Posts

12 thoughts on “A treasure trove of books”

  4. raynnowui21

    There are some attention-grabbing points in time in this article but I don’t know if I see all of them center to heart. There may be some validity however I will take hold opinion till I look into it further. Good article , thanks and we want extra! Added to FeedBurner as well slots for real money

    Reply
  5. bonesy

    I'm new to your blog. I found your blog through finding The Vivacious Victorian blog. I live two blocks from that house, in my own big Victorian house. Although my house is not near as large as yours or Amy's, I think 10 rooms of various size is fine for us. These ten rooms are about 3000 sq ft.
    I enjoyed reading of your books. I love books, and have dedicated one room as the library. There are more oddities than books in the room.
    I loved in another of your posts how you wrote about the house not feeling so big the longer you've been there. I felt that way also. Now it is my comfy home, that is always in need of money ! The work is never over. I also love that your husband says fear is the enemy of restoring a house. It's true. If I had fear, nothing of any degree would have gotten done here that really needed attention.
    Thanks for your great blog. Sorry I hijacked your page. Just so much to say !

    Reply
  9. JAMES STOOD

    I am James Stood from New York, United States, I am really excited about the work of DR. ZUMA, if not for him, I could have committed a suicide by now, or join my ancestors now, my wife left me with our two kids without having any misunderstanding, I tried to console her to come back to me, nothing was working out, I tried my best to have her back, I begged her, kneeled before her and begged her in tears, her no was still NO, she said she is not interested in the relationship anymore, I cried all through running up and down the streets, family relatives all to have her back because I missed her a lot mostly my children, I was not even seeing their faces at all. After a week, she brought a divorce letter to me for me to sign, I looked up and down, tears rolled down and I was frustrated, I told her, I will have to think about it. To God be all the Glory, I was directed by a friend of mine to a specialist world best known male Love Spell Caster called DR. ZUMA, I speak to her on phone, emailed each other all the time and he told me not worry about anything at all, I should relax my mind and calm down that my wife is going to come back before the week runs out, he also said he don’t charge for any of spell works, all I have to do is to provide the money needed for him to buy the materials to cast the love spell on her, I send to him and after two days he mailed and said he is done with the work, that my wife is going to come back in three days time with our children and she will kneel before me and begged in tears and promise not to leave me with any heart break again and she will cancelled the divorcement letter. I hacking into the words of DR. ZUMA and believed in him, all to my greatest surprise the words of DR. ZUMA came to pass and my wife now love me and we are now living together as one. I don’t have anything to say thank you to DR. ZUMA so I have to tell the world about him and you also can find a favor in him by contacting him on his email address spiritualherbalisthealing@gmail.com Whatsapp: +1(506)800-1647

    Reply
  10. Jessica L. Smith

    After being in relationship with Wilson for seven years,he broke up with me, I did everything possible to bring him back but all was in vain, I wanted him back so much because of the love I have for him, I begged him with everything, I made promises but he refused. I explained my problem to someone online and she suggested that I should contact a spell caster that could help me cast a spell to bring him back but I am the type that don’t believed in spell, I had no choice than to try it, I meant a spell caster called Dr Zuma zuk and I email him, and he told me there was no problem that everything will be okay before three days, that my ex will return to me before three days, he cast the spell and surprisingly in the second day, it was around 4pm. My ex called me, I was so surprised, I answered the call and all he said was that he was so sorry for everything that happened, that he wanted me to return to him, that he loves me so much. I was so happy and went to him, that was how we started living together happily again. Since then, I have made promise that anybody I know that have a relationship problem, I would be of help to such person by referring him or her to the only real and powerful spell caster who helped me with my own problem and who is different from all the fake ones out there. Anybody could need the help of the spell caster, his email: spiritualherbalisthealing@gmail.com or WhatsApp him +15068001647
    you can email him if you need his assistance in your relationship or anything. CONTACT HIM NOW FOR SOLUTION TO ALL YOUR PROBLEMS

    Reply
  11. BeachRiders Dubai

    Hello Dear

    It is a Good Article Blog thank for sharing.

    Charter fishing | Deep sea fishing dubai – beachridersdubai
    Deep sea fishing | Dubai fishing – beachridersdubai
    Dubai deep sea fishing trip | Dubai fishing trip – beachridersdubai
    Fishing packages | Fishing trip dubai – beachridersdubai
    Fishing in dubai | Fishing boat dubai – beachridersdubai
    Yacht rental dubai | Yacht rental in dubai
    Dubai yacht rental | Luxury yacht rental dubai
    Yacht rental dubai marina | Luxury yacht rental dubai marina
    Yacht rent in dubai | Dubai yacht rental prices
    Yacht renting in dubai | Dubai marina yacht rent

    Reply

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Danville Experience

ABOUT ME

While I am new to Blogging, I have always enjoyed sharing the stories of my crazy life, so this is simply another medium to share, and hopefully entertain and enrich others. Perhaps you can feel thankful that your life is so steady and predictable after reading these, perhaps you can appreciate the insanity and wish you had more of it in your life. Either way, the crazy tales are all true and simply tell the tale of a life full of exploration, enthusiasm, curiosity and hard work. 

WHAT TO READ

SEARCH

FOLLOW US

Facebook Twitter Instagram Youtube

Copyright @2023 – All Right Reserved. Danville Experience