Despite the apparent solidarity of the state's
loyal population, the Maryland Fair could only be termed a modest financial
success when compared with similar 1864 events. The final tally exceeded
just over eighty-three thousand dollars. In contrast, both
the New York and Philadelphia fairs each cleared over one million dollars.
Yet, when compared to all similar soldier relief fairs, the Maryland total
stands respectable. Chicago's, of December 1863, "netted between
$86,000 and $100,000"; Boston's, held in the state whose militia first
answered Lincoln's Call to put down the Rebellion, garnered but $146,000.
Both Illinois and Massachusetts possessed vastly larger and much less philosophically
divided populations. While competition for donations
from other cities most likely affected Maryland's net amount, both economic
realities and the state's political division did factor largely.
Maryland Unionists, nonetheless, regarded their fair efforts to be
fruitful. Governor Augustus Bradford at the May 2 closing ceremonies
remarked, "success is not to be estimated merely by its financial results,
but by the wholesome moral influences it exerted . . . it has brought together
loyal women . . . and served to show that American patriotism is confined
to no climate, nor indigenous to any particular soil." The
press singled out the organizer's and participants for their devotion.
The Baltimore American lauded "the noble women of Maryland who have labored
so long and so well . . . [they] deserve all praise and honor."
Unfortunately, few primary documents exist to assess the women's own
perception of their efforts. A reminiscence by Elizabeth Blanchard
Randall provides a rare, illuminating example. Randall, who supervised
the Anne Arundel County effort, spent several days away from her husband,
children, and other responsibilities in order to prepare her stands.
Upon his arrival in Baltimore on April 24, her husband "found her very
happy as she had been the whole week taking charge of two tables."
Evidently, Mrs. Randall received both the approval and encouragement of
her spouse for her soldier relief activities. Apparently supportive
of her volunteer work in Annapolis, she recalled years later, "he insisted
on my taking part in an immense fair to raise funds for the Sanitary commission,
to which the Ann Arundel table, of which I had the management, was able
to contribute $1000." Elizabeth Blanchard Randall's reluctance
to take credit for her actions may stem from the fact that she was writing
a complimentary life sketch of her deceased husband, an accomplished Maryland
politician. Yet, even in her modest and limited comments, one can
detect the pride of her accomplishment at the fair.
The Maryland Fair did succeed in fostering both a benevolent and patriotic
spirit within the state's loyal populace. Before the end of the event's
run, Baltimore's own African-American community expressed an interest in
holding a similar fair for the sake of their own sons in uniform.
"We have heard them express impatience at being held in dependence on their
white brethren in this matter" reported The New Era.
Fanny Turnbull and Elizabeth Albert, the wife of the fair's co-chairperson,
went on to found the women's Baltimore branch of the U.S. Sanitary Commission,
serving as president and treasurer, respectively. Each also later
served as an officer in organizations caring for the orphans of Union soldiers.
Maryland Fair organizers accounted for two of the seven officers for the
Shelter for the Orphans of Colored Soldiers, as well as six of the eight
for the Union Orphan Asylum. Of this latter organization, "under
the management of ladies exclusively," many women connected with war-time
relief efforts continued to contribute their time and money, even holding
small-scale fundraising fairs, throughout the 1870's.
The women's moral influence and organizational example permeated Baltimore's
Unionist society. Perhaps, as the ultimate compliment, the city's
formerly Secessionist women, renown in wartime for their open and clandestine
devotion to the Confederacy, organized their own large-scale fair for general
southern relief in 1866. Utilizing the sanitary fair model, their
event, also held in the great hall of the Maryland Institute, featured
an art gallery and some stands bearing the same names as its 1864 Unionist
antecedent.
In conclusion, Maryland Unionist women drew upon their domestic skills
to aid in the physical well-being and morale of U.S. soldiers throughout
the Civil War. The socially acceptable women's traditional roles
of providing nursing assistance, making garments, and preparing food served
as an extension of their prior domestic and charitable work. Though
barred from the political process, they expressed their devotion to the
Federal government through the organization of patriotic activities, thereby
buttressing the martial spirit of Union volunteers and civilians participants
alike. The Baltimore Sanitary Fair provided the unique venue to bring
together both benevolent and patriotic impulses of the women. The
fair presented them with a different and larger scale organizational challenge,
allowing females to stretch, without irreparably changing, the bounds of
their traditional domestic sphere. Enhanced societal roles would
still lie years away. Yet, in a period of over four months, they
organized committees, decided local responses, solicited donations,
and prepared items and publications, while all the time juggling their
schedules and household responsibilities, for the singular purpose of achieving
a successful effort. The noble nature of their cause allowed women
to place greater demands upon men and Maryland's Unionist society without
repercussion to their own femininity or personal reputation. On the
contrary, Baltimore's Sanitary fair provided women with a rare opportunity
to garner wide personal recognition in a socially acceptable, almost heroic
fashion. As an article from Almira Lincoln Phelps book Our Country
extolled:
Never again during our life can such noble opportunities
for noble deeds present themselves for women. . . . The female who administers
to the dying necessities of the soldier . . . does she not, through her
sympathetic nature, expose herself to heart-wounds more cruel to be borne,
than the sabre's gash or the fatal shell?
If, therefore, there are women sighing to distinguish themselves and
seeking for ambitions worthy their abilities, to-day they have abundant
opportunity for both, and history is awaiting to write out their meritorious
record.
|