Posted on by Jean Lee Cole

An Obscurity among Obscurities: Miss Laura de Valin

One thing that has surprised me about the members of the WLCB is that so many were published authors. As I’ve been reviewing the transcription of the minutes taken by the indefatigable Lydia Crane, I’ve looked up members here and there to see what became of the works they read during the club meetings, to see if they had a life outside of the club.

Today I found an interesting connection between Club members’ writings and Hunter’s research on the Lutherville Female Seminary.

The minutes for April 10, 1900 relate that a Club member named Miss Laura de Valin read two of her poems, “In the Heyday,” and “A Sonnet.” A quick initial Google search for “Laura de Valin” uncovered this interesting document held in the Johns Hopkins University Library Special Collections, a piece of sheet music titled “A Parting Ode” written by Miss de Valin for the Lutherville Female Seminary in 1859!

The music has a frontispiece for the school which corresponds closely to the image Hunter included in his post.

parting ode
Front cover of “Parting Ode” by Laura de Valin, 1859.

I am leaping to the conclusion that this Laura de Valin is the same as the one who belonged to the WLCB because their names are so unusual– additional genealogical research would be necessary to confirm that this is true.

Assuming it is, then finding this sheet music tells us something about the age of Miss de Valin, and also links her with the Lutherville Female Seminary. Based on the amateurish quality of the verse, I would guess that de Valin may have been a student at the Seminary when she wrote this “ode,” which would make her about 60 years old at the time of the Club meeting where she read her poems.

That would mean that she would have been a young woman during the Civil War, which perhaps explains why she remained unmarried. Membership records show that she lived at 1214 Madison Ave., just a few blocks west of where I live now. She joined in 1899-1900, and left the club (or passed away) sometime before the 1904-1905 season. So her tenure in the club was brief.

Miss de Valin, I discovered, also was a playwright– a “Bibliography of Plays by Marylanders, 1870-1916” published in the Spring 1972 issue of the Maryland Historical Magazine lists two plays by a Laura V. de Valin: The Chaperon; A Comic Opera in Three Acts, from 1892, and Elisa, A Drama in Five Acts, from the same year.

In search of copies of the plays, I checked the MD Historical Society catalog (MDHS publishes the Maryland Historical Magazine, so I thought perhaps the bibliography of plays was based on manuscripts in their collection). I didn’t find the plays there, but I did find out that she edited a journal titled The New Pedagogue: A Monthly Journal Devoted to the Public School Interest of Baltimore, right around the time she belonged to the club. So that tells you that she was a teacher. Perhaps she was a teacher, rather than a student, at Luther Female Seminary. (Again, I am assuming that all of these Laura de Valins are the same person.)

It all makes you wonder: who was Laura V. de Valin? What kind of life did she lead? Did she crave a theatrical life, or was she committed to her work as a teacher? Did she live alone, or with family? What was she like? And what were her dreams?

Only further research will be able to answer these questions about this member of the Club–and we will probably never know about her dreams. But this little tidbit of information points to the ambition and wide-ranging intellect and interests of even the most obscure Club members.

 

Posted on by Ellen Roussel

Ode to Eliza Ridgely

Today, I finished transcribing the last of the minutes recorded by Eliza Ridgely as Secretary; what a bittersweet moment in time this was for me.

Despite my original chagrin with Ridgely’s style of note-taking, I now feel as though I have learned and grown with Eliza for two seasons of the Woman’s Literary Club’s existence, and truly am sad to see her go.

Eliza’s work was characterized by a surprising lack of detail for most of the meetings’ happenings. With her, there was only a vague allusion to what events might have transpired during the actual meetings. Nonetheless, it is Eliza Ridgely who has painted the only picture of the Woman’s Literary Club that I have ever known.

At the end of the second season, Ridgely’s position was taken over by Lydia Crane, who was much less willing to do the amount of work that Eliza put into her position as Secretary. According to Crane, her stipulation for accepting the nomination as Secretary was that she would only be the Recording Secretary during the meetings, and not Corresponding and Recording Secretary as Eliza had been. This leads me to conclude that Eliza Ridgely went above and beyond for the Club. Way to go, girl.

What is mysterious to me, is why Eliza Ridgely refused to accept her nomination as Secretary in the third year of the Club’s existence. During the second season, Eliza began missing more and more meetings, with Lydia Crane filling in for her, for undisclosed reasons. I can only speculate as to why Eliza would have missed so many meetings and why she did not feel it within her ability to remain Secretary, while preferring to be a member of the Executive Board.

All I can say is that, Eliza, it was a pleasure getting to know you through your words and your writing and your descriptions (or lackthereof) over the past two seasons.

Posted on by Ellen Roussel · 2 Comments

A Bit About Loyola

The fifty-fifth meeting of the Woman’s Literary Club, held on May 3, 1892, was of particular interest to me because of one piece of information that seemed to be thrown in, never to be touched upon again. Namely, the Woman’s Literary Club was invited to a Loyola College debate at Lehmann’s Hall.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog about the vibrant life of Lehmann’s Hall, yet I found no mention in my research of any Loyola affiliation with this destination. It came as a surprise to me that my university, and the Club on which I am doing research, both met at this destination that I have previously written about.

I am disappointed to say that the minutes of the Woman’s Literary Club never again mentioned Loyola or this debate (at least not that I have come to find). However, I decided to do a little digging to see what I could further uncover about this Loyola/Woman’s Literary Club connection.

According to the archived text of “Historical Sketch of Loyola College, Baltimore, 1852-1902”, Loyola held their annual debate at Lehmann’s Hall on the topic of: “Resolved, That the Golden Age of English Literature is Our Own Century” on May 5, 1892, two days after the WLC announced their invitation to be present. While I could not find a transcribed text of this particular debate, I did find that Charles C. Homer won the coveted Jenkins Medal at the end of the debate. This, of course, sparked more questions as to whom Charles C. Homer was and what the Jenkins Medal was.

What I could dig up about Charles C. Homer, Jr. was that he is of German descendant, and was born and raised in Baltimore. He and his brother attended Loyola College, received a Bachelor of Arts degree, and was an involved alumnus. The Loyola Annual is quoted as saying,

“At the recent meeting of the executive council of the Alumni Association Mr. Homer was retired as president of the body. Mr. Homer said a few weeks ago that he was interested in Loyola and everything that appertains to her.”

Charles Homer and his brother both attended Maryland University Law School, and went on to practice in Baltimore until Charles C. Homer left to become Second Vice-President at the Second National Bank of Baltimore.

What I could find on the Jenkins Medal was that it is of high prestige, and is awarded to renowned alumni after the Annual Debate.

I feel as though I have only scratched the surface of the connection between Loyola, the Woman’s Literary Club, and Lehmann’s Hall, and I think further sleuthing is in order to fully uncover the intricate web that has been weaved between these three institutions.

Posted on by Clara Love

Consistency, Thou Art a Jewel

In my last post, I looked at the lack of emphasis the Club placed on the transition between the years 1899 and 1900. Now, I’ve transcribed the minutes of the Club’s first meeting of 1901, since their first meeting of 1900 implied that they would view this point in time as the true ‘turning of the century.’ And this is true! Mrs. Wrenshall acknowledges the new century at the beginning of the January 8th, 1901 meeting.

The President in greeting her fellow members on this first regular meeting of the year, —and the century—congratulated us on the work done in the past, and on the prospects of the future; especially on our continued adherence to the aims which have form the beginning of the Club claimed our allegiance.

So, now they profess to enter the 20th century, a year later than we thought they would. However, just like the last time, the hoopla surrounding the new era ends there. No proclamations of upcoming goals or changes, no discussion of development or anything of the sort. The most important part of the President’s statement is about sticking to the Club’s original, steadfast aims and policies. For the Club members, the turning of a new century is more about preserving what they’ve already established than creating something new.

I noticed this same sentiment during the minutes of the Club’s prior tenth anniversary meeting on March 27th, 1900. The meeting opens with a reading of the minutes of the Club’s very first meeting, and the President’s address includes a similar urging to the Club to stay close to its original roots,

For ten years we have followed the lines marked out at the formation of the Club, never making novelty our loadstone, never deserting our original aims–nor giving up our allegiance to them.

As the world changes around these women, they retain these old values from ten years ago, and never seek to grow or change their Club except to add new members who fit within their preset boundaries. The President’s address at this anniversary meeting ends with the motto, ” Consistency, thou art a jewel.” The Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore so treasures their original aims and borders that, it seems, it will continue to retain them without addition or adaptation for the new century.

Posted on by Katie Kazmierski · 2 Comments

Lydia Crane: Uncovering a Legacy and a Grave

As the rest of the team knows, Lydia Crane, the Club’s dedicated Recording Secretary for over 15 years, has held a special place in my heart over the course of our transcribing. There’s something about her tireless devotion to the Club and her attention to detail in recording minutes. Every detail, that is, other than clues to who she was herself.

I’ve been looking more into Lydia and seeing what I could find about her. I was thrilled when Sydney found her memorial on Find a Grave, which tells me she was born on July 22, 1833 (happy 184th birthday, Lydia!), and died May 4, 1916. This also showed me who her father was, William Crane. Crane founded Richmond African Baptist Missionary Society in 1815, opposed slavery, but also did not call himself an abolitionist, as he criticized them as harshly as he did secessionists. I’ll probably write more about him later, as he was a fascinating figure.

And of course, endless information is available about him, while nearly nothing can be found about Miss Lydia Crane.

Yesterday, when we visited Green Mount Cemetery I was particularly excited to find her grave. We had the location of William Crane’s grave from findagrave.com, and I was confident that Lydia would be right there with him.

The grave of William Crane (1790-1866), father of Lydia Crane (1833-1916).

But, as Sydney mentioned, we couldn’t find her. Or maybe we did, but her grave is weathered arguably beyond recovery.

What might be Lydia Crane’s grave. The writing is completely illegible, though we’re pretty sure we can make out a ‘Crane’ in the top right corner. It’s located in the Crane family plot at Green Mount Cemetery.

I was disappointed, to say the least. I tried fiddling with that photo over and over again in Photoshop, and so far this is the best I could do:

The black and white and dark contrast makes the ‘Crane’ a tiny bit easier to decipher, but even then it’s a shot in the dark. I wont give up on this though–I’ve already asked my dad, a photographer, to come with me to the cemetery with his DSLR camera and off-camera flash, which supposedly will help make the shadows work more in our favor to decipher the inscription. I’d also like to do an etching.

I might seem crazy for the lengths I’m going to to try to uncover Miss Crane’s memorial, especially considering we already do know her first name along with her birth and death dates, which is more than we know about many of the Club’s women. But it troubles me that someone as vital to the Club’s history as her could nearly disappear herself from history. A woman with such detailed accounts of something should at least have a legible gravestone.

Sydney suggested I also contact the woman who published Lydia’s memorial on Find a Grave, which I did this afternoon. Her profile on the site boasts an astonishing 992 memorials added to the database, almost 100 of them with the surname ‘Crane’. I’m interested to know what her connection with the Crane family is, and if all 100 of these Cranes, spanning various generations and locations, might be her ancestors or simply people she’s intrigued in. Lydia Crane could just be a name to her, or maybe she knows something more.

 

Posted on by Hunter Flynn · 1 Comment

Getting to the bottom of Lanier’s burial

During our trip to the Green Mount Cemetery today, I was perplexed by one instance in particular: the circumstances of the poet / musician Sidney Lanier’s burial ground. For one thing, the stone was unlike any I had ever seen at a cemetery. For another, his grave was actually located on the plot of the Turnbull family (Mrs. Frances L. Turnbull being the founding president of the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore)—no other Laniers around him. This means, of course, we weren’t able to identify the name of his wife, who we know also to have been a member of the Club.

I decided to see what I could find out concerning all of the above.

Photo of Turnbull plot lifted from findagrave.com. Lanier’s grave is the reddish stone with the plaque; the three stones next to him are Turnbulls.

First of all: why the Turnbulls? In Aubrey Harrison Starke’s extensive biographical and critical study of Sidney Lanier (see the “sources” page for citation), he details the nature of his friendship with the Turnbulls. Apparently, Lawrence Turnbull, c-owner and editor of the Southern Magazine,  first visited Lanier at his home in Macon, Georgia, after having read his poem “Nirvana.” It’s not unreasonable to assume that the friendship to ensue from this visit is one of the primary ties that drew Lanier to Baltimore in the first place.

Upon his coming to Baltimore, the Turnbulls and the Laniers immediately developed a close tie. Mrs. Turnbull’s relationship with Lanier in particular is thought to be especially important by Starke. He writes of Mr. Turnbull’s “poetic, music-loving wife,” that her “romantic idealization of Lanier has stamped itself unmistakably on Lanier’s character as it appears through the aura of Lanier legend.” He continues, “[Mrs. Turnbull] must be remembered as a real benefactor of Lanier’s Baltimore days.”

I can’t help but wonder how much her “romanticization” of Lanier could be rooted to his reputation as a Confederate nostalgic. A favorite topic of Lanier’s poetry was that of an agricultural utopia. Most of it is Wordworthian, and innocent enough (read: “Corn“). But some of his worst poetry depicts the Antebellum South as having been populated by “happy” slaves (read: “Civil Rights“). But that’s a discussion for another day.

But regardless of how close the Laniers were to the Turnbulls, why would he want to be buried with them? Turns out, it was supposed to be temporary. Starke writes that Lanier had requested that an autopsy be performed to find out the cause of the disease that took his life. But here’s the weirdest thing: he died in Lynn, North Carolina. But they carried his body all the way to Baltimore.

For reasons not specified by Starke, the autopsy was never performed. He was interred at the Turnbull lot in 1881. The stone wasn’t erected until 1917, after his wife requested that his body remain there. But the stone did come from Georgia; pink and black marble.

Close-up of the stone, courtesy of Clara Love. The epitaph reads, “I AM LIT WITH THE SUN,” and was lifted from Lanier’s poem, “Sunrise.”

I was also able to determine (finally!) the maiden name of Lanier’s wife: Mary Day. Turns out Lanier met her in the middle of his time in the Confederate Army, in 1863. She was from Macon, too, and had studied music in New York. She lived for forty years after Lanier’s death, and edited and compiled his works. She died in 1931 in Fairfield County, Connecticut.

But her grave isn’t there. Apparently, she doesn’t have one. Starke’s text was published prior to Mary Lanier’s death, but her page on Find a Grave states that her ashes were spread with her husband’s. That is to say: she rests with the Turnbulls, too.

Posted on by Sydney Johnson

Update to Names

As my last posts have shown, it has been quite the challenge to try to find who some of these women really are. Notably the married women. I was particularly surprised to find that Mrs. John C. Wrenshall, the long lasting president of the Club, was one of these people that was almost impossible to find.

Or so it seemed.

With the help of Hunter we were able to figure out that Mrs. John C. Wrenshall is ACTUALLY Mrs. Letitia Humphreys Yonge Wrenshall. It is definitely a mouthful but also really exciting to find out another lady’s real name.

Her husband, John C. Wrenshall was actually a captain in the Confederate army. John and Letitia were wed November 22, 1866 in Savannah, Georgia.

Another thing to add to the search is the information that we found while on our tour of the Green Mount Cemetery. All of the team was present for our search which we feared might be fruitless from the get-go. Fortunately we were able to find more than we thought. We were able to find the graves of Miss Caroline Barnett (1871-1957), Miss Virginia Woodword Cloud (d. 1938), Miss Eveline Early (1868-1933) and Mrs. John D. Early (otherwise known as Maud Graham Early 1842-1905), Mrs. Charles W. Lord (otherwise known as Alice Emma Lord 1848-1930), Mrs. William M. Powell (otherwise known as Emma B. Powell 1852-1952), and Mrs. Lawrence Turnbull (otherwise known as Francese Litchfield Turnbull 1844-1927).

Just being able to figure out a few more of these names and years keeps the search going. Another interesting thing that we found was that Sidney Lanier’s grave was in the same plot as the Turnbull’s plot. There was the grave for Sidney Lanier but not for Mrs. Sidney Lanier who was a honorary member of the club. We did not know of a connection between the Laniers and the Turnbulls, but we are aware that Mrs. Turnbull was always a big fan of Sidney Lanier and on her grave is a quote of his.

We also are fairly sure that we found the grave of Lydia Crane since we were able to find most of her family but were unable to determine which one was hers due to the weathering of the tombstones. But I know that Katie is going to want to do more hunting to find the truth.