Grandmother's Love for Literature and Culture

 

As I mentioned in my last post, Mamma had been raised to be a lady, and to love culture. And she wasn’t the only one. There was a poetry society in Pauls Valley. Every month the ladies would get together and read poetry, that written by famous authors and poems they had written themselves. Mamma named her second oldest son Homer, after the author of the Odyssey and Iliad. She had a pet banty rooster she named Chanticleer, the clever rooster who outsmarted Reynard the Fox in Chaucer’s Nun’s Priest’s Tale.

She was also a member of the Alternate Saturday Club, formed in 1897 “to promote social, intellectual and moral culture.” The ladies wrote essays on works by leading authors, presented recitations, musical programs, and held discussions of current and past events.

In 1907, when Oklahoma became a state, small communities around the country were growing, and making an effort to improve their lives. Two national organizations grew out of this need, the Lyceum Movement and the Chautauqua Institute. The Chautauqua Institute was the one which sent teams to visit Pauls Valley. It was founded originally as a religious movement, but soon offered academic subjects, music, art and drama, sending out teams to small towns across the country. Prominent speakers and performers appearing on the Chautauqua circuit included William Jennings Bryan, Theodore Roosevelt, John Philip Souza and the American Opera company. They usually performed plays also, and Wenonah told me that the girls would all fall in love with the leading man.

In 1910 one of Mamma’s Chickasaw friends, Jessie Moore, visited the Chautauqua Institute in New York, and sent her this postcard. She wrote:

My expectations of Chautauqua were real, but the realization exceeds anything I ever dreamed. Could I afford it would come here every summer of my life. I nearly run my feet off for fear I will miss something. Will be home Sept – kiss Mahota (Aunt Kaliteyo’s middle name.) Lovingly, Jessie Moore^[i]

                                          Post Card from Jessie Moore, 1910

 

Mamma had an impressive library, with a set of books of poetry and literature, another about European history, and a set of children’s books called the Children’s Hour, that she read to her children from. She also had many novels, histories and biographies: the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe, novels by James Fenimore Cooper, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Mark Twain, you name it. Mamma never passed up a book store. She even had a copy of the Dawes Commission Rolls. My mother Wenonah said she never had to go to the school library to find background for a report. There was always plenty of information among Mamma’s books.

I gravitated toward the adventure stories: the James Fenimore Cooper books about the Algonquin Indian tribes, the Tarzan series, Pistol Pete’s autobiography, Mark Twain's tales of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, books about Comanche torture, about Isaac Parker, the “Hanging Judge,” who had sent Sam Paul, my great grandfather, to prison. Here’s a picture of Mamma’s copy of "Tarzan of the Apes," that I read surreptitiously after my bedtime, by flashlight.

                                                Tarzan of the Apes, First Edition, 1914

It was contagious. Visiting Mamma in the summers I would spend most of my time reading. My mother was an avid reader also, and she loved poetry, as did my Uncle Haskell. Actually, Pappa loved poetry too. After his death, a book of poems was found next to him open to the poem, “The House by the Side of the Road,” by Sam Walter Foss, which, as I claim in my book, “Wenonah’s Story,” was a plea for forgiveness.

Mamma left copies of several poems among her papers, none with the authors’ names though. The only one I’m sure she wrote herself is this one. which she enclosed it in a letter to Wenonah in 1948. She was sick and lonely.

Dear Jim:  I’ve neglected to write, only wanted to feel better. The wind has almost killed me. The dust has nearly choked me to deth. The mussels of my throat hirt so bad that I could hardly turn in bed. Still I have seen wind worse. I have done nothing to bring this on. I am and have taken care of myself. It is spent me. I am worn out and useless… 

The Mystic Bridge of Snow 

The nite is dim thoe snowflakes falling fast

through the still air. The earth is growing cold & while

beneath this soft pure covering through this gloom,

I see affar a Mystic Bridge of Snow

 

It falls from your high casement near yet far

Oh straight my trembling fancy to its glow.

Forms a white pathway of these falling flakes

& crosses on this Mystic Bridge of Snow            

 

The snow flakes tap against my window pane.

I heed them not. Their mistery is I cannot know.

That they have crosssed to me this winter nite.

Upon a frozen white Bridge of falling snow.

 

I stand outside the nite is dark & cold.

Within that room. There’s warmth I cannot know

the fire doth make a summers glow.

Thoe nite is white with mystic falling snow

 

Its cold as deth out here alone

the light has vanished in the cold & gloom

without some guide to light this lonely way.

I cannot cross again this Bridge of snow

 

The light has vanished it is dethly cold.

The earth is hidden in a gleam of light. I see

Only my heart’s deep longing formed. This Bridge 

Between me & this Mystic falling snow.

 

 

 

---

[i] Jessie Moore was a remarkable person. She was an attorney, passing the bar in 1923, serving as clerk for the state supreme court, the second woman elected to a state office in Oklahoma. She served on the Board of the Oklahoma Historical Society for 35 years. She was appointed Assistant Commissioner of Charities and Corrections for Oklahoma, and was head of the Women’s division of Emergency Relief during the depression. And with all that she found time to serve as president of the Alternate Saturday Club in Pauls Valley. From Chronicles of Oklahoma, Vol XXXIV, Number 4, 1956.

Life in the "Wild West"

 

I guess I should explain my reluctance to call Bill Paul “Grandfather” or even “Pappa,” as my mother referred to him. He died in 1930, long before I was born, so I never knew him. By the time my mother was old enough to remember much, he had become an alcoholic and was usually excluded from family events. His oldest son Willie provided most of the financial support for the family, moral support for Mamma, and parenting for the younger children. It wasn’t always that way though. For the first fifteen years of his marriage he was successful, wealthy, and shared an active social life with Mamma and the older children. Since I’ll be writing about that period of time for the next couple of posts, I’ll refer to him as “Pappa.”

 

Pappa, sitting at his desk, about 1920

 

After Mamma and Pappa, were married in 1898, Pappa became a rancher. He had bought some stock with some of his inheritance, and had gone in with a rancher named Byars. He was an expert horseman, competing in rodeos in roping, and he worked on the ranch as a foreman over the other cowboys. See my book, “Wenonah’s Story,” for more detail.

After a year or two on the ranch, Pappa was thrown from a horse, and suffered a temporary paralysis of his legs. Since he was no longer able to work as a cowboy, he and Mamma moved back to Pauls Valley.

Pappa’s brothers in law, George and Charles Brooks, Lillie and Kittie’s husbands, were both in real estate, so he decided to try his hand as a real estate broker. Pappa already had several Chickasaw allotments in his immediate family and all his relatives had allotments as well. He was outgoing and likeable, so buying, and selling property was an easy transition for him. Soon he owned several rental houses and was even building buildings. He built the First Baptist Church, the Masonic Lodge, and a large building down town. I remember as a child walking past it. It had “W. H. Paul” printed on a frieze across the top. Mamma and Pappa soon became wealthy. The couple entertained often, and took vacations to Arkansas, Texas and Colorado.

The summers were hot in Pauls Valley, so Mamma started spending the summers in Colorado. They stayed with Mamma’s “Sister Ada,” who lived in Colorado Springs with her husband, Robert Freeman, and they lived in Colorado Springs, so they stayed with her. I have a picture of Mamma at Seven Falls with her family at the time – Willie, Homer, and Victoria. Notice Mamma’s fancy dress.

 

Victoria Paul with children: Homer, William, and daughter Victoria at Seven Falls, Colorado, about 1908

 

 My mother described Mamma’s sister Ada as being kind of glamorous, wearing fancy clothes. She was also very pretty. She gave Mamma a housecoat that was covered with feathers, purple, if I remember right. Wenonah said that Mamma never wore it. I guess she thought it was too ostentatious for Pauls Valley.  

 

Sister Ada

 

The Paul family owned half a square block just three blocks from downtown, with horses, cows, chickens, a barn and a servants quarters, with a live in maid and housekeeper. Willie, the oldest son, got his grandfather, Sam Paul’s farm as an allotment. When he was older he worked the farm himself, but during the early years Pappa hired a man to farm the land for a share of the crops. Pappa wasn’t interested in farming. My mother said that she never saw him in work clothes. Every morning he got up, put on a suit and tie and walked downtown to his office.

Contrary to what you see in the movies, the people in small Oklahoma towns, at least in Pauls Valley, were very cultured and sophisticated. Mamma went out visiting once a week. She would have one of the boys hitch up the buggy an then she would visit one or more of her lady friends. She had a calling card she would leave if a friend was not home, or was unable to accept visitors.  On other days, ladies would come to visit Mamma. She had a parlor at the front of the house just for that purpose. Visitors would knock at the door. The maid would answer and accept the card. If Mamma was receiving visitors, they would be ushered back to the parlor and served tea or coffee. And if Mamma was busy they would just leave their card.

 Whenever Mamma and Pappa would go out, they always dressed up. Like I said before, Pappa always wore a suit and tie, and Mamma had fancy dresses too. She ordered them from catalogues, and she hired a seamstress to make alterations. Once a dress she ordered never came and, according to my mother, Wenonah, Mamma swore that the postmaster’s wife had intercepted it at the post office.

Just as Grandmother Lumpkin predicted in her letter to Mamma quoted in my last post: “you will have everything that you desire without having to work and make it.”

I’ve puzzled over where this elegant life style came from. These are the sort of customs I associate with 19^th century British society, not the American western frontier, but I think it came from Mamma’s parents. They had both been raised in the old South, where the ideal was to have servants to do all the work. Even though Mamma had grown up in a pioneer family, living on a farm, in a log cabin, she had still been taught to live the life of an elegant lady.  

More about that in my next post.

 

Grandmother's Wooing

 

William Paul, on Old Deck, about 1892

Around 1893 or so – Grandmother, Victoria Rosser, would have been 16 , and my grandfather, Bill Paul, 17 – Bill started riding up to the Rosser house on his horse, Old Deck, asking to see Grandmother. They had known each other since the Rossers came to Indian Territory seven year earlier, and may have been in the same school together. But apparently Grandpa refused to let Bill in, or Vick out, since their feelings for each other were mutual. I thought at first his opposition to their relationship might have been prejudice against Indians, but that didn’t really make sense since the Chickasaws were the most prominent members of the community, but Bill wasn’t just any Chickasaw. His father, Sam Paul, had been the Progressive candidate for Chickasaw governor, until he was murdered by his own son, Bill’s older brother Joe, in 1891. And if that hadn’t been enough family scandal, Joe himself was murdered in 1895 by his cousin,  Jennison. 

In the meantime, Vick’s mother died of a tumor in her abdomen, so Vick and Bill were probably drawn together even more since both had recently lost a parent. After his wife’s death Grandpa sent Vick and her younger sister, Ada, to stay with their older sister, Cora, who was divorced and living in the nearby town of Wynnewood, where she had opened a millinery (hat) shop. “Old Sis,” as Vick called Cora, was even more opposed to her love affair with the young Chickasaw than her father, so this arrangement just led to more tension. That’s when Grandpa sent Vick to Georgia to visit his mother, Sarah Rosser Lumpkin, to try and cool things down a bit.

Here’s a letter Vick received from Grandmother Lumpkin after her return from Georgia. 

 1895: Envelope: To: Miss Victoria Rosser, Wynnewood, Chickasaw Nation, Indian Territory.

            From: Cedartown, Ga., 1895

To Vicie,

Dear Grandaughter

I received your letter also ---- little ears which were the first I ever saw of the kind. (Mamma must have sent her some animal ears which were intended as a good luck charm) We had a very smart statesman of whom it was said that he carried a rabbit foot in his pocket for luck. I think if there is anything in it, that one of those ears would do as well. I want you to write a long letter. When you wrote me you did not say anything about Cora and I have not heard from her since she first got home. (Mamma’s sister Cora must have recently visited their grandmother. She got a divorce from her husband about this time so it may have been that event that occasioned her visit) I am very anxious to hear from her - we should be glad if she could be near us so we could see her any time - We also hope to see you and little Sis (Sister Ada) I forgot to keep the size of the square I sent you, but you can send me the length of it in your letters, with piece. (I can’t make out all the words but Grandma Lumpkin was apparently sending her granddaughter pieces of material for a quilt Mamma was making for her hope chest.) - thanked? Ada - you and she were getting on well with your music which I want to hear (the melodian) - you must persevere and keep up your practice, and do not neglect it to make a quilt - The snow gin away very slowly - Cora carried a pacel of things for your ma’s grave but the weather has been very unfavorable to work with flowers - The cold has just withered my flowers - I have a friend in town who has saved some. I had a letter from Kittie (another of Mamma’s older sisters) last night saying all wise well - give love to all of the family and write soon to your affectionate

Grand Ma SDL (Sarah Dismukes Lumpkin - Dismukes was her maiden name)

Footnote: Scans Family - My Scans - Scan 0002 - 2-1 & 2. From family Bible.

Victoria Rosser, in about 1892

Around the time Vick visited her grandmother in Georgia, Bill got married !  To his cousin, Abbie McClure. I guess he just gave up on Vick since the Rossers were determined to keep them apart. But then something happened that changed everything. Abbie’s brother murdered Bill’s brother Joe. The Paul and McClure families’ relationships were complicated, and I won’t try and explain them since I don’t understand them either, but after Joe's death, Bill’s marriage to Abbie soured, and his relationship with Vick Rosser started up again. 

The scandals continued. In 1897 Jennison was found run over by a train, with bullet holes in his chest. Bill and his brother Buck were prime suspects in the presumed murder, but neither was indicted. When I asked my mother about it, she said simply, “Pappa and Uncle Buck were away at school. They couldn’t have done it.” Actually Sherman, Texas, isn’t that far from Pauls Valley, even on horseback. 

So, in spite of Bill’s marriage, he and Vick kept seeing each other, and in November of 1898 they were married only a month after his divorce from Abbie McClure. 

Here’s another letter from Grandmother Lumpkin, just a couple of months before her wedding. 

Cedartown, Ga                                                                     July 9, 1898

     Dear Vicie

                  Your good letter to hand, picture a fine substantial looking fellow and strong. - you say you would not have him go to the War (The Spanish American War). He looks well fitted by nature for campaigning. I hope however he will not have to go for now - I think the War may end pretty soon - we have destroyed the Spanish fleet at Santiago and will bombard the city if they do not surrender very soon - I am glad to hear that you all are well and that you have a good prospect ahead and feeling happy - large weddings have gone out of style here in Ga - They get married in a traveling suit and take a trip off somewhere - Marry at a church mostly (Mamma and Pappa got married at the Garvins' home) - You did not say that Mr Morris had married out in California - We thought it would be an easy matter for him there when Cora was here (Mr Morris was Sister Cora’s ex-husband.)- I am sorry you do not hear from her - I have replied to her last letter to me long since, but perhaps she did not get it - I hope you will be good to old Sis, as you call her - I leave it as my dieing request - I fear that crops will be short this year in Ga. for the lack of rain. People are becoming discouraged - Glad you have good seasons - We have clouds but little rain - Mr L’s (Lumpkin) health is very precarious - he complains of his head and is more and more unable to move around - I am better and more active than I ever expected to be anymore. You ask after your Uncle D’s family (Perhaps Dismuke? which was Grandma L’s maiden name) - I have not seen any of them in some time. They have had a death in the family, Tidies husband. Left her in good circumstances with 3 little ones to raise - his bro Jones lives with her - She is a thorough going woman - good woman – Bessie’s health is better. Aunt Della is badly broken down - Dave looks well and handsome - The Bookmart kin are pretty well and nice. Your Uncle Jacks wife has gone north to visit his relatives -well I suppose I shall have to quit calling you the little girl now. I hope you may enjoy a long and happy life, though I shall not be here to hear from you very much longer- You must be a very good wife- amiable and sweet tempered, as you will have everything that you desire without having to work and make it. (after all, she was marrying a rich Indian) Your lives have fallen in pleasant places. Write me soon again. I shall like to hear from you. Give my love to your Pa and Sisters.

Your Affectionate Grandma. S D Lumpkin.

Footnote: Documents - Scans family - My Scans - Scan 0002_3-4. 

Shortly after this letter was written, Mr. Lumpkin died, leaving Grandma Lumpkin alone. Grandpa Rosser brought his mother out to Indian Territory, but she didn’t live long. Grandmother’s “Old Sis” Cora married again, this time to a Doctor Glaze, and they moved to Idaho, where she opened a flower shop. They had a daughter together named Mildred. 

Cora Rosser Glaze, 1912