Posted on by Jean Lee Cole

Hurrah for volunteers!

We have a volunteer!

Cynthia contacted me about a month ago and asked if she could help us transcribe the WLCB records. (I said yes.) Though she’s retired now, she’s been volunteering at the Loyola/Notre Dame archives, and she heard about our project through Loyola’s archivist. It turns out that she was a curator at the Maryland Historical Society and processed the WLCB collection way back in 1975. That’s right: 1975!

Crazy how history moves in circles and repetitions … no?

Since we’ve gotten her set up, Cynthia’s been plugging away, transcribing the minutes from the 1901-1902 season. And her archivist brain has been leading her to sources that help confirm or elucidate what she’s been transcribing, which she’s been passing along to the team. It’s all been quite exciting.

This week, Cynthia sent me a link to the 1905-1906 Baltimore Blue Book (aka the “Society Visiting List”), which she noticed happens to include the complete WLCB officer & membership list. It did not even occur to me that the Blue Book would publish such a thing.

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One question we’ve been asked repeatedly about the Club is how many women belonged. Based on this list, the WLCB had 71 members during the 1905-06 season, and 15 honorary members (most of these were published authors). We also have wondered how the WLCB cultivated its membership and brought in new members. The fact that the entire membership list was published in the Blue Book shows that yes, belonging to the Club was seen as a worthy attainment for the upper crust—and those who aspired to rise to their level.

Perhaps most interesting to me, though, is what appears a few pages after the WLCB listing: the listing for the Daughters of the Confederacy—Maryland chapter.

1905-06 Society Visiting List, pages 456-457.

As several of the team members’ posts testified this summer, the white supremacist sentiments expressed by some of the members of the Club were a source of concern and dismay. We harbor suspicions verging on certainty that members of the WLCB were also members of the Daughters of the Confederacy, since many of them were born during the Civil War or in the years immediately surrounding it—but we have not had the chance to look into the DotC records (also at MDHS) to find out.

The Blue Book confirms that Mrs. Francis Dammann, a teacher at Boys’ Latin School and an active member of the WLCB during the early years of its existence, also belonged to the Daughters of the Confederacy. Not only that, she was an officer.

The Blue Book also provides an answer to another question that came up over the summer. At several points, the minutes mention another Baltimore literary society for women, the Arundell Club. We hadn’t had a chance to look into the history of this club, but the Blue Book brought the history to my eyes. A few pages before the WLCB entry, the Arundell Club also has a listing—which shows a much larger membership that includes many names I recognized from the early years of the WLCB. Most of them now belonged to the Arundell Club instead.

The numbers imply that the Arundell Club surpassed the WLCB in social cachet, at least. But were they actually in direct competition? I recalled reading in the minutes that the WLCB expressed the desire for both clubs to co-exist and thrive together, so I wondered if the two clubs defined themselves differently—carved out different niches for themselves, as it were.

I did a quick Google search and found an online copy of Jane Cunningham Croly’s History of the Women’s Club Movement in America (1898), a vast compendium of information about women’s clubs in the 19th century. And there, I discovered that Croly described both the Arundell Club and the WLCB in some detail.

If we’d only known in June when we started this project! Alas, this is so often how research goes—you find the source you need after you’ve figured out (mostly) what you wanted to know.

Croly tells us that the WLCB was founded before the Arundell Club, and so had the advantage of precedence. However, neither club had been in existence for more than a few years when Croly wrote her book.

Croly distinguishes between the two Clubs, highlighting the literary aims of the WLCB and the social, cultural, and philanthropic aims of the Arundell Club. She quotes at length from a June 1896 address from Francese Litchfield Turnbull—a real find, since the minutes book from 1896 has been lost. (In fact, we are missing minutes from the entire 1896-1899 period, so Croly’s book is especially valuable.)

Turnbull’s speech succinctly characterizes the aims and goals of the Club, at least as I’ve seen it reflected in the hundreds of pages of documents I’ve now read. She begins by reflecting on the name of the Club—the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore—which, we know, was decided after a great deal of deliberation. She asks:

“Does our title hold any hint that we are to strive tacitly, if not specifically, for some special good to woman in our literary work; that we are, in some sense, to uphold those qualities which are essentially womanly—not necessarily attributes of women only, nor sought for as differentiating them from men, but that we are to emphasize, as opportunity may offer here, those gifts and qualities which conduce to a nobler womanhood?”

She does not wait for an answer before continuing. “Then,” she says, “as a Woman’s Literary Club, this purpose should fix our point of view in our contact with literature.”

Croly then includes the following, verbatim:

The “modern need of the ideal” — that’s a nice turn of phrase. The need, in modern times, of the lofty aspirations of the past; and the need to apply the modern “precision of method” and “carefulness of study which realism has introduced into art” to bring hazy idealism into the sharp focus of the present. And the womanly attention to morality, beauty, and truth—coming out of the 19th-century Cult of Domesticity—governing all.

In contrast, the Arundell Club (whose president, Miss Elizabeth King, is pictured above) seemed to be a less “idealistic” organization, at least in Turnbull’s characterization of the word. They focused on philanthropy and social reform, on the one hand, and social activities, on the other. While the Arundell Club’s 300 members more than tripled the membership of the WLCB in 1898, Croly notes that the Literary Committee had just 25 members. So perhaps they ceded the literary ground to the WLBC. We should find out for sure, of course.

Regardless of the Arundell Club’s activities, Turnbull’s speech and the characterization of the WLBC in Croly’s book confirms for me what I and the rest of the Aperio team discovered this summer: the WLCB was, at least in its early years, a serious literary organization, not a social club. It was the kind of book club where the members actually read the books—and also wrote them.

And knowing that the Arundell Club took on the more social and philanthropic roles expected of women’s clubs of the time, I’m now willing to give the WLCB a bit of a pass on their decisions not to engage directly with “causes.” I wonder if the rest of the Aperio team will agree.

In the meantime, thanks to Cynthia for helping us—me, anyway!—answer some questions. She’s passed along lots of other discoveries, but I’ll save them for future posts.

Posted on by Jean Lee Cole

Taking names

As Sydney’s posts have documented, one of the challenges we’ve faced is the difficulty of finding even super-basic information– like, names–of the members of the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore.

Today, I happened to stumble upon a treasure trove of a document that had passed under the radar of our summer researchers. I was checking and verifying the names and addresses of the membership, which Sydney has painstakingly transcribed over about half of the summer. Names, we have all discovered, are very difficult to transcribe.

In the middle of a large, mostly empty, unlabeled book in the “Memberships” box of the WLCB, I ran across a few pages where the WLCB Constitution had been painstakingly copied, followed by an undated pledge signed by the membership.

Pledge
Pledge signed by officers, Board of Management, and members, probably 1898. MD Historical Society, MS988.vii.

We’ve been trying to find some of these names for some time. Mrs. George K. McGaw (Margaret!). Mrs. R. K. Cautley (Lucy!). If we had realized how momentous this document was when we’d run our eyes across it earlier in the summer, we’d have saved ourselves a lot of work– many of the most active members of the Club, unsurprisingly, appear on this list.

Page 2 of signatures. MD Historical Society, MS988.vii.

I was able to date this document tentatively to the 1898-1899 season. Part of my logic was that Mrs. John C. Wrenshall (Letitia!) took over the presidency of the Club from Mrs. Lawrence Turnbull (Francese!). I also referred to the lists of officers and Board of Management that Sydney & Clara have compiled this summer– and while the signatories here most closely resemble those listed in the programs for 1898-1899, they don’t match exactly.

So, an answer raises more questions: how stable was the Board of Management in the Club? Did people switch in and out after being elected? But for now, I am very happy that we now have first names for about 15% of the Club.

It is one of the few “public” documents of the Club in which the women made a concerted effort to use their first names. Now that I’ve become more familiar with the documents, I’m seeing first names scattered about here and there, including in the title page of the membership dues book from 1890 (which lists Mrs. Christine Ladd Franklin as treasurer). They also sign their first names when elections are being held (They are the ones voting, after all, not their husbands!) Their first names also appear in the minutes, perhaps because those are more “private” documents.

On this pledge, there are only 2 or 3 instances where a signee has used her “married” name (Mrs. Thomas Hill), or used initials rather than writing out their full names. I find these hesitations both sad and touching.

If only they had written their names. With their names, we can start fleshing out their histories.

Posted on by Ellen Roussel · 1 Comment

Arguing for Creative Ability in Women by Ignoring the Topic

Since the beginning of the Aperio research project, I have been steadily plugging away at the first recorded seasons of the Woman’s Literary Club– 1890-1891, 1891-1892, and now, the 1892-1893 season. Even though I am in the thick of the third season, I’d like to take this time to rewind a few paces and talk about something I came across during the second season of the Club. This is a topic I came across that, initially, I found very troubling. However, the more I have looked into this, the more disturbing I have come to find this topic, both in regards to the Club, as well as to this time period–and history–as a whole.

Let me preface this by saying I cannot do justice to this topic of study; there is far too much to say, and far too little a space to say it. At this time, I do not feel equipped enough to make any kind of philosophical, historical, or, frankly, academic, statement about this. However, what I can speak to is why this particular topic caught my eye and got my wheels turning.

Without further ado, let me explain how the Woman’s Literary Club, for the umpteenth time, has left me greatly distressed.

The 42nd meeting of the Club, on January 5, 1892, began like any other. The ladies met in their usual place, 12 East Centre Street, reviewed the Secretary’s minutes from several meetings prior, and discussed membership in the Club–a very common topic of conversation it seems.

Following this discussion, Lydia Crane read an article from “The Critic” by Molly Elliot Seawell called “The Absence of the Creative Faculty in Woman.” In it, Seawell makes the claim that “woman–not excepting Sappho, George Eliot and Austen–has created nothing that will live in music, art, literature, or even in mechanical invention, and is made up of emotions; while man possesses intellect.”

Following this article, Miss Szold read a response to it, also published in “The Critic”, and the President facilitated choosing women to lead a debate on the question: does the creative faculty exist in woman?

After some digging, I was able to find the article “The Absence of the Creative Faculty in Woman” which made the argument, without substantial evidence it seems, that woman cannot be genius because no woman has made anything eternal, and even when woman is praised, it is only praise because it is coming from man.

The article is not brought up again until the 14th Salon on January 26th. At this meeting, of the two women who were supposed to engage the Club in a discussion of whether or not women have creative ability, one of the women was absent. Therefore, the Club only listened to the views of the woman arguing for creative ability in women. To do this, Mrs. Sioussat read an article from “The Critic” in support of woman having creative ability. I have issue with this because it seems a little counter-intuitive to me to argue for the creative ability of women by reading an article written by someone else on the topic. It just seems, for a women’s literary club, these women should be more concerned with giving validity to this topic. Their work is being called into question and being denied a reputable place in history by another woman. Instead of discussing this, it seems like the women almost do everything in their power to not talk about it. In fact, after the reading by Mrs. Sioussat, the President immediately switched into “Sidney Lanier groupie” mode, which seems to be her default at nearly every meeting. It doesn’t sit well with me that these women can allow themselves to be belittled, not talk about it, and then immediately jump into the hundredth discussion of a white man and his poetry. It says a lot to me that the Woman’s Literary Club didn’t do justice to this issue.

I have struggled to make my peace with various aspects of the Woman’s Literary Club in the past, but this is one under-step by the Club that I am having a very hard time looking past.

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.

Posted on by Ellen Roussel

Shortchanging the Janitress

Last week, Katie and Clara both discussed the philanthropy efforts, or lack thereof, of the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore. Since I have currently been transcribing the formation and early establishment of the Club, it was interesting and insightful for me to read their thoughts on the generosity of the Club in later years and as evident (or not) through the programs.

It wasn’t until I made my way into the second season of the Club’s existence that I began seeing any mention of philanthropy in the minutes. Around the November 1891 entries, the President puts in the motion to raise money for the janitress of the Academy of Sciences building who recently lost most of her belongings in a fire. The women second and third the motion, and agree to inquire whether or not she can be helped.

Several meetings later, the President again announces that a purse will be collected for the janitress to which the ladies can contribute if they so desire. Almost within the same breath it seems, the President moves on to more pressing announcements of upcoming classes. Eventually, we make our way to December 1891, where it is reported that $16.00 was raised for the janitress, which falls short of the $25.00 goal. Then, the women speculate on whether they should buy the janitress a sewing machine to replace the one she lost in the fire, which would require them to supplement the addition funds from their own budget, or, if they should just give her the $16.

The women then debate whether they should just give her the money because it probably would not be “judiciously spent” or if they should buy the “very-useful” sewing machine, and possibly risk losing $9 from their ample funds. After all, as the women say, they are not a philanthropy club and “must be just before [they] are generous.”

It was eventually decided that a decision of this gravity (whether or not to help a woman in need) was too much of a mature consideration for that meeting, so they postponed the decision until a later time.

I have not yet reached the meeting where the decision is resolved, but let me tell you, I am truly waiting with baited breath to see what kind of convoluted decision they make in regards to someone a little less fortunate than them.