Posted on by Monica Malouf

Surprising Find in Frederick, MD

Over the weekend I took a trip to Frederick, MD for the day. The beautiful town lies northwest of Baltimore, close to the Virginia border. Among the mountains the town boasts colorful buildings and shops, as well as rich history. I had visited with Dr. Cole two years ago for a class trip to the Civil War Medicine Museum, but I hadn’t expected my second visit to tie in with our current class.

As I was walking through the town absorbing the old buildings, I came across a sign that read “Trail Mansion”. This rang a bell in my head, but I couldn’t remember why that name held significance. “Trail” I kept repeating; “Why do I know the name ‘Trail’?” Suddenly it dawned on me–I was thinking of Florence Trail, member of the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore. I realize this could’ve been a common Maryland name or merely a coincidence, but I snapped a few photos anyways, determined to do a little research.

It turns out the mansion belonged to the wealthy Frederick resident Charles Edward Trail, Florence’s father. To double-check this information, I turned to Marina’s blog post about Florence Trail. Yep, she grew up in Frederick; this must have been her childhood home. The red brick building stands tall, with a unique face in comparison to the other dwellings on the street. Nonetheless, it lies tucked away. The mansion serves as a landmark which marks a specific time in history, and today it functions as a funeral home.

Posted on by Jean Lee Cole

The Slush Pile

Things have been a little quiet on the blog because the class has been reading … reading … reading. Having collected literally hundreds (over 500 by my count) works by our industrious Club authors, we now have been trying to read and evaluate as many as we can. Our goal is to choose at least one work by each published author who belonged to the Club, and publish them in a volume we are tentatively titling Parole Femine: Words and Lives of the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore (1890-1941). 

(The title comes from the motto of the WLCB, “Parole Femine,” which in turn comes from the Maryland state motto, “Fatti Maschii, Parole Femine”—”Manly Deeds, Womanly Words.”)

We will be ready to release a table of contents pretty soon, and hope to preview some of the book’s contents as well as provide more profiles of authors in the upcoming weeks. In the meantime, here is a sampling of capsule reviews written by members of the class. You can read the works for yourselves by accessing them on our WLCB archive site through the links provided– and please, we’d love to get your comments!

  • “The Ever-Ready Edgar,” by Louisa C. Osborne Haughton. We have to include this one. It’s a revenge story in which four women team up against a playboy, all of whom had previously been seduced by him. There’s some enormous plotholes/coincidences: all of the women Edgar courts share the same initials as himself (E.M.), and all of them happen to be acquainted despite the fact that he met and interacted with them all over the globe. This one was discussed at club meetings at least once—maybe several times. Furthermore, its subject matter deals overtly with gender.—Hunter Flynn
  • “Anne” (Her Eyes are Like the Violet), by Lizette Woodworth Reese (poem, 1887). This poem was read and discussed on June 3, 1890 during the 3rd Salon. “Anne” is a sweet and (in my reading) sapphically charged poem about an older woman admiring a young girl. The young girl is compared to violets, a flower symbolizing innocence. The girl’s innocence and goodness are also juxtaposed with the stiff, old tradition of the church, and the narrator concludes that she is unafraid of the preacher’s threats of hellfire because, “she is highest heaven to me.” It doesn’t get sweeter than that.—Katie Shiber
  • “Two Negatives” (1889, short story), by Mary Spear Tiernan. This short story opens with women working in a Confederate treasury. I immediately said yikes, mostly because the Confederacy makes me cringe. However, I must say that I am glad I got past my initial reaction, because this story was entertaining. One woman wants to let a man down easy instead of letting his proposal “dangle” like all the other men she writes to (bringing up the question- how easy was it to get a marriage proposal back then?).  The ending has a fun twist, with a case of mistaken identity getting settled with new romance.—Marina Fazio
  • How Sammy Went to Coral-Land, by Emily Paret Atwater (children’s fiction, 1902). About a salmon named Sammy who ventured from the north to Coral-Land. He goes on a journey where he meets others unlike him. He learns that a hug from an octopus is not affection, but the squeeze of death as well as a school of fish is not a classroom with a teacher. Sammy encountered many situations and obstacles to find out what he was looking for were right there all the time—HOME. —Ju’waun Morgan
  • Buttercups and Daisies, by Elizabeth Graham (poetry, 1884): poetry. Graham uses fairytale, sing-songy rhymes, and her poetry centers around romantic, mystical imagery. Nevertheless, the physical appearance of her book of poems—both the font used and the illustrations—is gorgeous. I enjoy the poem “Children of the Sun,” finding the subject matter deeper than merely child-like poetry. The language is simple but somewhat sensual, which surprised me. The book of poetry praises summer and spring in relatively generic ways, but I still find the text beautiful and intriguing because of the typeface and illustrations. There appears a turn with the poem “Mid-Summer”, and the urgency within the poem illustrates the fleeting time left in the season. I think that and “Waiting” are stronger than the poems that precede. —Monica Malouf
  • “The Tale of the Wild Cat,” by Maud Early (folklore?, 1897). I chose this to read first for the title only and thank God I did. This is so bizarre and fantastic. I love it. Without a doubt should be included. Also, I love how she says “they are very rude primitive drawings at any rate” as if that weren’t completely evident already. I can conclude by this that Maud Early has too much time on her hands, but nonetheless, I am pleased. —Ellen Roussel
  • A Royal Pawn of Venice, by Francese Litchfield Turnbull (novel, 1911). I don’t not like it. It’s another one that I can’t really tell if it’s good. It reminds me of books on royalty I used to read as a kid, so I’m not sure if it’s meant to be for children or not. I like the switch of perspectives in the chapters. I also think it’s funny the way Turnbull throws in random Italian words to prove she is #fortheculture. “Dio! But it was good to be born in Venice, where life was a festa!” —Katie Kazmierski
  • Pollyanna’s Jewels, by Harriet Lummis Smith (novel, 1925). The story begins with Pollyanna and a man named Jimmy moving to Boston with their children Jimmy Junior, Judy and a baby named “Baby.” Pollyanna’s job is to be a stay-at-home mother and care for the children. She also has to deal with bothersome pets and troublesome relatives. The story is actually very dark which surprised me greatly. During the story, a boy name Philip loses both of his parents because they left everyone to be together (leaving their own child behind). People living in the neighborhood are extremely mean to Phillip and shun him because of his family. Pollyanna feels pity for Phillip, and attempts to be nice to him, but will not allow her own children to play with Phillip because she fears her family will be shunned also. Overall, the story has additional sub-plots that seem to all turn to a dark ending. Going into this book, I was under the assumption that it would be cheerful, but in reality, it was very sad. I don’t recommend reading the book unless you enjoy sad endings. —Jonathan Flink
  • “De Clar Pitcher” by Letitia Yonge Wrenshall (story, 1906): This is……….Not Good. I don’t know why I expected anything other than bad racialized dialect from Mrs. Wrenshall, but here we are. As I think some others have pointed out, this might be good to include since it so perfectly captures the insidious racism present through the highest offices of Club leadership. —Clara Love
  • The Cottage by the Sea, by Mrs. James Casey Coale (novel). The book offers a messy and unplanned plot which becomes incredibly predictable when devices are introduced. There is almost no character development at all. It felt like there was this big, grand, Victorian novel in the making by Coale, but she shaved everything down so much that it lost almost any significance as a piece of writing. The only redeemable aspect of this novel was Coale’s description of the main character and her best friend: “The two girls kissed each other, and now began the day of all the week to each of them. It was the one in which they were the happiest. It seemed as if they could not do enough for each other. The benefits of this friendship was mutual, for the refinement of their ideas which one imparted was received by the other, and it did not have the effect of lifting her out of the sphere in which she had been placed, and in which she contented, because she was good and happy. Nelly gave such true affection to her friends that it was a benefit to them on both sides. A true loving nature does bestow happiness to those, who have that in them, that is able to receive and appreciate kindness. The minds of some unfortunate people being so filled with either envy or jealousy, or both, there is no room for a better feeling” (11). —Tara Brooky
  • “Finding Five-Cent Christmas Opportunities,” by Emily Emerson Lantz (journalism, 1915). This is weird. It feels a bit like one of those commercials designed to bring tourism to a city that is, once you get there, kind of lames. But I can’t explain why I enjoyed reading it so much. It really gives you a picture of some of the best Baltimore had to offer for five cents in 1915, with shout-outs to just about every major landmark in the city (including Loyola College in its downtown location). Lantz is clearly an animated writer, and I would love to see some stuff like this included. Made me crave fried oyster and wienerwurst. (This is admittedly only interesting to a niche audience.) —Hunter Flynn
  • Old Manors in the Colony of Maryland, by Annie Leakin Sioussat (history, 1913). Old Manors in the Colony of Maryland is a nonfiction account of a bunch of rich white man stealing land from Native Americans and pouring their money onto it. The content is not particularly appetizing. She clearly has a pride of the land and those who “settled” it, collecting from the dedication that her ancestors were among them. I am unsure as to how much this work would contribute to the anthology and the ends we seek to accomplish. —Katie Shiber
Posted on by Monica Malouf

Margaret Sutton Briscoe: Honorary Yet Extraordinary

Photo found at: https://consecratedeminence.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/margaret_sutton_briscoe_hopkins.jpg

Margaret Sutton Briscoe was a prolific writer and an honorary member of the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore. Although she published numerous texts, her greatest contribution to the Club appears to be her reputation. As I researched Briscoe, I kept finding short-story after short-story, as well as poems and essays; however, I barely found mention of her within the WLCB’s meeting minutes. Sure, she was in the meetings, but she only played a minor role. I found this very curious, but as I’ve learned more about the club, her honorary status has become less and less surprising.

Briscoe wrote and worked as a publisher in New York City, where she met and married her husband, Arthur Hopkins. She moved with him to Amherst, MA where they both served as faculty and influential individuals at Amherst College. She was involved in numerous philanthropic and women’s clubs, as expected of a society woman of the time. In fact, she checks off all of the expected boxes in my mind. She wrote, worked, traveled, devoted her time to social activities and clubs, knew Mark Twain, allegedly used the pseudonym “Travers Hopkins”, and boasted a high reputation. She possessed interesting anecdotes about her life, identifying as a true southern woman (in what I assume she would consider a sea of Yankees), was shipwrecked in the Adriatic Sea, and had a text written about her by a student. She opposed suffrage, a fact that is disappointing but not surprising for the traditional, southern Christian woman. She was a successful writer, counselor, and socialite, and although I imagine her southern sympathies would prove problematic (her family owned a plantation on the Chesapeake Bay), there remains something likable about her.

Briscoe still proves a bit of a mystery to me, even though biographical information is widespread thanks to Amherst College’s archives and Five College Archives & Manuscripts (asteria). I still wonder how much involvement she had with the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore, and I hope to unearth some hidden minutes or mention of Briscoe. I enjoy her writing; it’s no surprise that she gained such popularity in periodicals like Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, Harper’s Bazar, Century Magazine, etc. Her language, work, and biography mirror the witty and sassy look in the eyes of the woman whose photo accompanies this text. She is charming and challenging, and for this reason I keep hoping she will surprise me with more involvement in WLCB.  I expect she will remain a mere influential individual, bringing to the Club prestige and clout, but some part of me will hold out for a new discovery while continuing my research.

 

Biographical information found at The Consecrated Eminence: The Archives and Special Collections at Amherst College and Five College Archives & Manuscripts Collections (hyperlinked above).

Posted on by Jean Lee Cole · 2 Comments

Alice Emily Sauerwein Lord

A woman, with the name longest name ever I might add, Alice Emily Sauerwein Lord was called “the literary life of Baltimore” in her obituary published in the Baltimore Sun. Her father’s name was Peter G. Sauerwein. She spent most of her adult life residing in her home on 1728 St. Paul street with her husband Charles.

Charles W. Lord as I previously mentioned was Alice’s husband. Born in Newberry Port Massachusetts, he moved to Baltimore in 1848. He worked for his own firm, not so ironically named Charles W. Lord. Alice was his second wife, he chose to marry her after his first wife’s passing in 1876. Charles seemed like a good fit for Alice, a very accomplished man to compliment a very accomplished woman. He was very generous to many churches, was the head of his own firm, and also was the director in the Baltimore and Cuba Coffee Company, the Maryland Fire Insurance Company and the Peabody Heights Company. Overall he was an extremely active member in the Baltimore community and had many positive impacts on it. I mean we all know that behind every great man is a great woman, right? I’m guessing that Alice was that woman. Charles was 81 year’s old when he passed. Alice stated in his obituary in the Baltimore Sun that this was due to a brief illness caused by extreme stress at work.

Lord was known throughout her life as being strongly related to literature. She was a member of the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore (duh), long with the Woman’s Club of Roland Park, an honorary member of the Lend-a-Hand Club of Mount Washington, and also was a member of the Woman’s Club of Mount Washington. This was one busy lady. She was a pretty well known writer. Some of her most famous and influential works include A Symphony in Dreamland and The Days of Lamb and Coleridge.

Her funeral service was held on March 18th 1930 and was conducted at a funeral parlor near Orchard and McCulloh street. The Reverend who held this service was named R.S. Litsinger, who belonged to Lord’s parish of St. John’s Protestant Episcopal Church located in Mount Washington. She is buried in the Green Mount Cemetery, which is conveniently located 11 minutes from Loyola’s campus… oh I feel closer to her already.

Overall finding out information about Mrs. Lord’s life has presented me with a pretty difficult task. Despite this, I will keep searching for more information and hopefully will post again about her again soon.

 

Posted on by Katie Kazmierski · 4 Comments

Mary Noyes Colvin, PhD

As I write this, my head is spinning with so much information on the woman, the myth, the legend, Mary Noyes Colvin, and yet also, so many questions left frustratingly unanswered. Let’s start from what I consider the beginning. I only found two published works by Colvin: one, an edited translation of “The Siege and Conqueste of Jerusalem”, by William of Tyre from way back in 1130-approximately 1190, complete with an extraordinarily detailed introduction and notes, index, and vocabulary by Colvin. The other, her dissertation for her PhD… in German. Think she’s cool yet? Yeah, it gets better.

After studying at Mount Holyoke College and teaching thereafter for a few years, Colvin enrolled in the University of Zurich. There, in 1888, she became the first woman in the university’s history to be awarded a PhD. I found this information from an article about her being appointed professor of romance languages at the Western Reserve University in Ohio in 1893. Interestingly enough, I came across more or less the same blurb in countless newspapers from the time in January 1893: The Indianapolis Journal in Indiana, Galena Weekly Republican in Kansas, the Lafayette Gazette in Louisiana, Buffalo Evening News in New York, the list goes on. Mary Noyes Colvin was appointed a professor at a college in Ohio, and cities around the country told her story. She was, it seems, kind of a big deal.

That particular article goes on to tell that since 1889 Colvin was secretary of the Bryn Mawr Preparatory School, a Baltimore girls school that still exists today. That’s where Baltimore comes in, and with it, our WLCB. According to our membership list, Colvin was only a member of WLCB in its first season, 1890-91, but I think she must’ve been a member from 91-92 as well, as her and the Club in 1892 played a big role in fighting to improve Baltimore schools, specifically girls schools. In an article sub headlined “Many of the Defects Pointed Out by the Committee of the Woman’s Literary Club Have Been Remedied Since the Committee Made Its Investigation”, Mary Noyes Colvin is credited as having reported on the areas in which Baltimore schools were failing. Professor Wise, the Superintendent, supposedly takes Colvin’s advice, and it is announced that the several changes to schools have been made, including “raising the curriculum of the female grammar schools to an equality with male grammar schools”. You go, Mary.

And yet, while I can find information like all of this, I can’t find Mary Noyes Colvin’s birthday. She might’ve grown up in New York, as the earliest information I can find about her is from 1882 in an article announcing her previous work experience as a teacher in Dansville, New York, and appointment of another position at Genesco State Normal School. The same article credits her as being the daughter of Judge Noyes and “possessing rare accomplishments”… lol. Maybe if I had Judge Noyes’s full name I could find him, and in turn, find Mary Noyes’s date of birth and death, but alas, for once, it has proven difficult to find even a man from this time period. I guess I can’t complain, considering I’ve found more about Mary Noyes Colvin than her judge father or even her husband, who must exist, because of the whole, “Mrs. Colvin” thing but he’s MIA too.

So, I still have questions. But I’ve got a good amount of answers, too. Mary Noyes Colvin was nothing short of a badass. And to further solidify that, check out these people who knew her vouch for it in this compilation of letters of reference of hers, circa 1882-88.

*Mic drop.*

Posted on by Tara Brooky

Mrs. [Catherine B.] James Casey Coale

Very little is recorded about Mrs. James Casey Coale or her husband outside of the one instance she was mentioned in the Club’s minutes. In the minutes her two novels, The Cottage by the Sea and Lelia the Hindoo Girl, were inducted to the library making her an honorary member on Meeting of April 9th, 1901.

My research began with her husband, Mr. James Casey Coale. I discovered his Ancestry.com page and found out he was an Insurance Agent married to an illusive “Catherine B.” Catherine B.’s Ancestry.com page had even less sources than her husband’s, making it very hard to tell if this is the woman I have been searching for. Since both James and Catherine lived in Baltimore the same time time frame as the club, I assume this was the right couple.

Mrs. Coale was born in Maryland, 1823. Mr. Coale was born in 1826, making him 3-4 years younger than his wife. Mrs. Coale gave birth to one and only child, a daughter by the name of Elizabeth Coale in 1849. Mr. Coale died April 13th, 1891.

On the census Mrs. Coale’s occupation is listed as “Keeping House” rather than “At Home” as most women have listed at the time. On the same census, three Irish immigrants are listed as “servants” in the Coale’s household. This indicates the Coale’s were most likely well-off. Because they were wealthy, it bugs me that this was the extent of information I could find on the Coale family.

Posted on by Jill Fury

Clara Newman Turner: A Glimpse of her Life

While I’ve been unable to find any published works of Clara Newman Turner, more frequently referred to as Mrs. Sidney Turner, this member of the WLCB has proved to be quite fascinating. Namely, because she was a cousin of the famed and beloved Emily Dickinson.

Mrs. Turner was born Clarissa Badger Newman in the year 1844. At the age of eight, Clara’s parents died, and she and her three sisters, Anna, Sara, and Catherine, became wards of Mr. Edward Dickinson, father of Emily. Clara grew up in Amherst, Massachusetts, alongside Emily. She went on to marry Sidney Turner in October of 1869.

Turner was from Norwich, Connecticut, and documents indicate that the couple lived there for part of their lives, as well as in Baltimore. While there are no records to indicate that they had children, it appears that the couple had dogs. Mr. Turner served as the Chairman of the Committee of the Kennel Club, and Clara was, for a time, the vice-Chairman of the Ladies’ Branch of the Kennel Club.

Besides being involved with the Kennel Club and the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore, Clara acted as a vice-president of the Young Women’s Christian Association of Baltimore, was a member of the Woman’s Auxiliary of the National Civil Service Reform League, as well as a member of the Women’s Civic League. Turner was also, like several of her WLCB peers, on the executive board for the Edward Allen Poe Memorial Association. Additionally, Mrs. Turner was a member of the First Presbyterian Church of Baltimore.

While, as mentioned, there are no works of Turner presently available, it is known that she wrote an essay called “My Personal Acquaintance with Emily Dickinson,” and shared it at a WLCB meeting. This personal piece was later edited by Clara Newman Pearl, niece of Clara Newman Turner, and then included in The Life of Emily Dickinson. The writing of Turner indicates that the two women were very close and fond of one another.

Clara Newman Turner passed away in 1920, and a copy of The Civic Courier, distributed by The Women’s Civic League, indicates that she was living The Cecil, a hotel in Baltimore, before her death.

Portrait of Clara Newman Turner, courtesy of The Kennel Club: A History and Record of Its Work