A few weeks ago I was in Richmond, Virginia and visited the Hollywood Cemetery. While Baltimore certainly has its share of unusual cemeteries, I found this one to be rather intriguing, particularly the different kind of symbolism on the graves. If you want to study Victorian gravestone art, Hollywood Cemetery is the place to go.
Gravestones, like the ones in Hollywood Cemetery, originated as a way to keep the dead from rising from the grave. They were slabs or boulders placed over the ground where the body was buried. Soon, markers included names. Early images on gravestones were less than peaceful, though. Drawings of skeletons or other images of death served to remind the living of where they could end up if they did not live virtuously.
It was during the 1800s that the tone of images on gravestones began to change. At this time “garden cemeteries” replaced overcrowded churchyards and mourning became a much more elaborate practice, from clothing to length of time to gravestones. As many families lost loved ones during the Civil War it seemed that no family was untouched by an untimely death. It is no secret that the Victorians were overtly interested in death and the elaborate graves of the time reflect that. Lilies, like those on the gravestone above, symbolize purity, chastity, and were usually used on the graves of young women or babies. It was also used more generally to symbolize innocence in the face of God.
A couple of weeks ago another bit of guerrilla knitting popped up near where I work. This is on Mount Royal Avenue, which is heavily traversed by MICA students. So, I suspect it was one of them who put this up. On one side it says “Hey Hon” and on another side is this artfully sculpted flamingo. I’m not sure whether the bird is knitted or crocheted, but it certainly makes the piece.
I am really not a big fan of pink flamingos. Yet, for some reason it is traditional to have them all over the place in Baltimore. I tried to research why they are so popular here, but to no avail. But, I did find that in 1957 Don Featherstone designed and marketed the first plastic lawn flamingo. Previously, the company he worked for, Union Products, made only flat lawn ornaments (including flamingos). This young sculptor first made a duck for the company, and then developed the plastic flamingo sculpture. As both lawns and bright colors were popular during the 1950s, these ornaments became very popular.
Plastic pink flamingos have gone in and out of fashion in many places but have become a city symbol here in Baltimore. Some first associate our city with them because of the John Waters film Pink Flamingos (Roger Ebert viewed it with distress). In recent years they have popped up in droves on Baltimore lawns and are often used to represent kitschy hospitality in the city. This winter, Ravens fans took the flamingo craze to a new level by adding flocks of purple and black flamingos to their lawns. As baseball season opens, many are replacing the purple flamingos with orange ones, to display the orange and black colors of the Baltimore Orioles baseball team.
The week I went to Charlottesville seemed to be the week equestrian statues of Robert E. Lee merged with guerrilla knitting. When I was out walking that week I was amused to find that someone had fitted the double equestrian statue of Lee and Jackson at Chancellorsville with a set of leg warmers. (This is the one near the Baltimore Museum of Art.) While I know that some people may find this disrespectful, I was tickled by it. Ever since somebody fitted the horses with leg warmers I've seen people snapping photos and the horses seem to look quite proud. I think this is a good way to draw attention to this statue, which I have always been quite fond of, especially since I recently visited Chancellorsville. But, while researching this statue it was the horses that piqued my curiosity.
Recently I called a friend about this statue because one of his favorite Civil War trivia questions is, “What is the name of Robert E. Lee’s horse?” (Traveler, in case you ever meet him and he asks you.)
Me: “I also now know the name of Stonewall Jackson’s horse. It is Little Sorrell.”
Him: “Yes, Little Sorrell is on display at the Virginia Military Institute Museum. We’ll go see him.” Hmmmm………..
While both horses are famous, Traveler led a more genteel life, though with multiple identities. That animal later known as Robert E. Lee’s pale gray horse was named Jefferson Davis when he was born in 1857. He was originally owned by James Johnson, who won blue ribbons for the horse at the local county fair. During the early part of the Civil War the horse, then named Greenbriar, was owned by Confederate Captain Joseph M. Broun. It was during this time that General Robert E. Lee spotted the horse and aimed to acquire him. Lee, who enjoyed the horse’s skilled trotting, renamed him Traveler.
Lee’s son Robert E. Lee Jr. noted that the general was quite close to his horse. After the war Lee kept Traveler and continued riding him. After General Lee became president of Washington College in Lexington, Virginia, Traveler spent his retirement grazing on the school’s lawn. While Lee died in September 1870, Traveler was not far behind when he died from tetanus after he stepped on a nail in June 1871. He is buried at the Lee Chapel at Washington College.
Unlike the elegant Traveler, Little Sorrell was a small horse often described as ugly or dumpy. Yet, he was a smart horse and a good ride. Jackson had originally taken to Little Sorrell when he looked to purchase horses for both his wife and himself. Jackson found himself riding the little horse more often than the horses he bought for himself. Jackson soon found that the awkward looking little horsed was a nimble trotter and nicknamed him “Fancy”. The horse also kept his head in battle and was not often spooked by the noise of cannons or gunfire. Stonewall Jackson died at Chancellorsville, the scene that inspired the double equestrian statue photographed above. He was riding Little Sorrel when he was shot.
After General Jackson died, Little Sorrell was captured and re-captured a number of times, until the Yankees got tired of this and gave him back to the Confederacy. The horse lived for about 20 years more after the war, making the circuit of southern fairs and even appearing at the 1885 New Orleans World’s Fair. Ladies in the south had much affection for Little Sorrel, clipping souvenir hair from the horse’s mane and tale and fashioning them into rings and bracelets. After the World’s Fair Little Sorrell’s health quickly declined and he ended up living at an old soldier’s home in Richmond, Virginia. During his last months, Little Sorrel was so feeble that the veterans at the home devised a sling to lift the horse whenever they wanted him to stand. Unfortunately Little Sorrell met his end when this sling slid off on him one day and he fell, breaking his back.
As my friend alluded to, a lot of people have seen Little Sorrel since he died. This horse is indeed on display at the Virginia Institute Military Museum if anyone wants to see his stuffed effigy. If you would like to see Traveler and Little Sorrel in the form of the double equestrian statue of Lee and Jackson, it is near the Baltimore Museum of Art. It is across the street, on the western edge of Art Museum Drive. For more details and a map, see this page about the Lee and Jackson monument on the Monument City blog.
Last winter, just before Christmas, I spotted this pile of fire hydrants on Howard Street. That entire week people kept excitedly asking, “Did you see the fire hydrants??” I never did find out the story behind this, but it was an amazing sight and has been in the back of my mind ever since. The pile was in front of the A. E. Harrington Plumbing Company, which I also tried to research (to no avail) when I photographed the tiny Statue of Liberty they have on the roof. Well, even though I have no research I decided to post this simply because it was interesting.
I do like fire hydrants and way back I did write an entry on the history of fire hydrants so that will have to do until I find out more about this pile, if I ever do.
This post isn’t about Baltimore, but I wanted to write about Lee Park in Charlottesville, Virginia. I visited there recently and I just liked it. We cut through the park to get to a bookstore and the first thing I saw was some guerrilla knitting on a tree. I was tickled, as I usually am when I find knitting on trees. But, I am not familiar with the Charlottesville knitting scene so I didn’t turn up any information about that. Instead I will write about this interesting statue of Robert E. Lee and his horse Traveler, which is also in the park.
In 1917, a prominent local citizen, Paul Goodloe McIntire, bought this property. He had a house removed from the lot and tuned it into a formally landscaped park. Eventually gave it to the city of Charlottesville, intending it as a memorial to his parents and also as a place for an equestrian statue of Robert E. Lee and his horse Traveler. For McIntire, getting this statue in place was a long and worrisome adventure. He commissioned Henry Shrady, who at the time was engrossed in his most famous work, an elaborate equestrian statue of Ulysses S. Grant.
Between finishing that project and his poor health, Shrady made little progress on the Lee statue over the next few years. On his deathbed in 1922, Shrady begged his doctors to keep the cloths covering his wet clay model wet. They didn’t know what he was talking about and so the model was ruined when the canvas dried and stuck to the fine details of the sculpture. Another artist, Leo Lentelli, worked diligently to research the details and to finish the sculpture. The Roman Bronze Works finally cast it in New York during the winter of 1924. On May 3rd, 1924, it was unveiled as Lee’s great granddaughter (aged 3) Mary Walker Lee pulled away a Confederate flag.
I haven’t had time for this blog in awhile, and frankly I wasn’t sure what to do with it. It seemed a little stiff in the writing style. I wondered if I should delete this blog and merge it with my new one, A Baltimore Gardener. But, the new blog makes me see more clearly what I can do with this one. Plus, people seem to be reading and linking to posts here so I won’t take them down. So, while I won’t update this as much as that one I do want to keep it and add to it, concerning odd things I find around the city. For example, guerrilla knitting is suddenly popping up wherever I go. I once wrote about this in my Sweater Trees post here. Plus, I’ve been dying to write about an odd pile of fire hydrants that I saw on Howard street just before Christmas. More pictures and historical bits to come!
In the woods between the Wyman Park Dell and Johns Hopkins University sits this old fountain stone. I’ve seen it for years without actually knowing what it was. Apparently this spring was in use for many years but didn’t have a name until the 1930s, when it was refurbished with this stone, which came from a different spring. It reads, “Presented by H.S. Rippel 1895”. Though the spring was heavily used in the 1930s and ‘40s it dried up about 25 years ago. I got some good leads on this fountain stone from Monumental City and went to the Maryland Room at the Pratt expecting to find little or nothing on this fountain. But, I lucked into some old newspaper clippings in the vertical files, mostly from The Baltimore Sun.
H.S. Rippel was a Baltimore businessman who donated money for this spring, which originally belonged to a location in Druid Hill Park. Rippel was the builder who erected an early City College building at Howard and Centre streets. According to the Sun, the fountain stone was likely cut by Rippel’s own workmen. The original Rippel’s spring was in Druid Hill Park and according to an October 19, 1941 Baltimore Sun story, it was shut down in the 1920s by the health department due to contamination. Water pollution was a fear and problem in Baltimore from the beginning of the 1800s, when “progress” began to cause problems with the water supply. In the early to mid-twentieth century, the Baltimore Health Department worked diligently on shutting down unsafe public fountains. Like Rippel, the springs and fountains in Druid Hill Park were shut down but later many were converted to piped in city water.
The spring in the Wyman Park Dell had no name until this stone was moved and the spring refurbished. Photographs from the 1941 Sun story show a “bubble fountain” (what we know as a modern drinking fountain) near the bridge over Stoney Run. This fountain fed from Rippel’s Spring. Also according to that Sun article, Rippel’s Spring was “once popularly regarded as highly valuable for it’s radium content.” Kids often made pocket money bottling and selling this water in the neighborhood. In 1983 The Baltimore Sun Article interviewed a man named Web Kefauver. He related that in 1925, when he was a boy, he lived in the Tudor Arms apartment building and sold water from Rippel’s spring. He bottled the water and loaded up his wagon, taking it to local apartments. The water was then hauled up via the dumbwaiters, a common feature in those old buildings. Mr. Kefauver charged 50 cents a week for his services.
Even though the Wyman Park spring was never shut down, public spring fell from popularity after World War II.A 1947 Sun article warns against drinking from springs and streams because of the threat of typhoid fever. It mentions threats of severe contamination and dysentery, among other things. Officials at that time concluded that even springs like Rippel, which were in wooded areas, were still probably contaminated because they passed through areas of the city with poor sanitation. A 1952 Baltimore American story echoes these fears of contamination and typhoid and was still reporting cases of illness.
The 1983 Sun article also reported Mr. Kefauver’s regrets that the spring was drying up. Then, a representative from Johns Hopkins University said that the water table was dropping. Also, there was a high nitrate content in the water and there were traces of coliform bacteria, probably from animal waste. Currently the spring is no longer working, but it still remains an interesting bit of neighborhood history.
Resources
Monumental City, "Hope Springs Eternal" The Sunday Sun, October 19, 1941
The Baltimore Sun, February 6, 1983
The Baltimore American, 1952
(Exact authors and article titles will be updated soon.)
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