'Colored' Orphan Asylums in Virginia, 1867–1930
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W&M ScholarWorks Dissertations, Theses, and Masters Projects Theses, Dissertations, & Master Projects 2018 Making a Home Out of No Home: ‘Colored’ Orphan Asylums in Virginia, 1867–1930 August Butler William & Mary - Arts & Sciences, [email protected] Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarworks.wm.edu/etd Part of the History Commons Recommended Citation Butler, August, "Making a Home Out of No Home: ‘Colored’ Orphan Asylums in Virginia, 1867–1930" (2018). Dissertations, Theses, and Masters Projects. Paper 1563898917. http://dx.doi.org/10.21220/s2-dg43-1492 This Dissertation is brought to you for free and open access by the Theses, Dissertations, & Master Projects at W&M ScholarWorks. It has been accepted for inclusion in Dissertations, Theses, and Masters Projects by an authorized administrator of W&M ScholarWorks. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Making a Home out of No Home: ‘Colored’ Orphan Asylums in Virginia, 1867–1930 August M Butler Richmond, Virginia Master of Arts, College of William & Mary, 2014 Bachelor of Arts, Texas A&M University, 2010 A Dissertation presented to the Graduate Faculty of The College of William & Mary in Candidacy for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy Lyon G. Tyler Department of History College of William & Mary May, 2019 © Copyright by August M Butler 2019, This work is made available under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International license ABSTRACT No research has been done on institutions created for African American orphans in the South after the Civil War, leaving a significant gap in the literature surrounding not only the nature and operation of these institutions but also how they reflected the various conceptions of the New South that competed for acceptance during Reconstruction and beyond. How individuals and organizations, particularly religious organizations, imagined the “problem” of the black orphan and the nature of a society that failed to deal with it affected the “solutions” they devised in the form of orphan asylums. Four case studies of orphanages in Virginia, operated by individuals from four different Christian denominations in different periods following the Civil War, provide insight into the changing visions of the New South over approximately fifty years. These visions in turn affected the operational values of each institution and the factors which ultimately led to their success or failure. Chapter 1 examines the Friends’ Asylum for Colored Orphans in Richmond, a Quaker orphanage begun during Reconstruction and which saw the African American orphan as emblematic of the hope and opportunity available post- emancipation. This motivated the inclusion of and eventual transfer to African American leadership, which enabled the institution to continue into the mid- twentieth century. Chapter 2 looks at the Lynchburg Colored Orphan Asylum and Industrial School, an institution founded by an Episcopalian minister during the violent reactionary period of the 1890s; his imagined orphan was dangerous, suggestible, and representative of an out-of-control society. His goal was to raise a tractable generation of African American children to restore white superiority which precluded any African American involvement in the project; this, combined with personal failings, resulted in the closure of the orphanage within a decade. Chapter 3 inspects the St. Francis Colored Foundling and Orphan Asylum and its later iteration Holy Innocents’ Asylum, Catholic foundling orphanages in Richmond also started in the 1890s. These saw African American orphans as little more than potential converts, a view somewhere between the hope and control models of the previous two institutions, and this white, foreign-led institution lasted just over twenty years. Chapter 4 analyzes the Weaver Orphan Home, a Hampton orphanage operated by a black Baptist family during the height of Jim Crow segregation. Their early adoption of a family-based model of child welfare, centered on promoting the dignity and personhood of the child, was hugely successful and enabled them to operate for over half a century. TABLE OF CONTENTS Acknowledgements ii Dedication iv Introduction The Garden of Lilies 1 Chapter 1. “Things needful for the comfort of the children”: Friends’ Asylum for Colored Orphans (Richmond), 1868–1969 26 Chapter 2. “We must lift up the negro or he will pull us down”: Lynchburg Colored Orphan Asylum and Industrial School, 1890–1898 59 Chapter 3. “Under the care of a good Catholic white woman”: St. Francis Colored Foundling and Orphan Asylum and Holy Innocents’ Asylum (Richmond), 1894–1897, 1897–c.1920 92 Chapter 4. “As near like a real home as possible”: Weaver Orphan Home (Hampton), 1904–1965 126 Conclusion Legacies 172 Bibliography 177 i ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Wow, where to begin? Seven years is a long time, and in truth this journey started even before I got to graduate school. But while “the very beginning” may be “a very good place to start,” I think in this case it makes more sense to work backwards. And so first, my committee: Kate Jones, who kindly took notice of me while on her fellowship at the Library of Virginia and gave me invaluable advice in the earliest days of this project, before returning at the end as an incisive outside reader; Fred Corney, whose humor and easygoing charm got me through the doldrums of years four and five; and Mel Ely, whose thoughtful and thorough comments exceeded my expectations and sharpened this dissertation immeasurably. Scott Nelson made his seminar my first year of grad school so engaging, refreshing, and fun that I knew I wanted to work with him forever. His advising over the past six years has been the perfect fit for me, and I would not have gotten through without him. This last year was made possible through the generous provisions of the Provost Dissertation Fellowship, and my heartfelt thanks go out to Dean Virginia Torczon for deciding my project was worth her time, energy, and funding. And to Sarah Glosson, whose ingenious “boot camp” enabled me to get more work done last summer than I had ever thought possible and whose continuing encouragement throughout the year was very welcome. Kristen, Molly, Jan, Tyler, Neeve, Mallory, and Summer were the best cohort anyone could have asked for. This dissertation would not have gotten far without the wonderful librarians and archivists I had the pleasure of working with. Audrey McElhinney was my best friend at the Library of Virginia for a few months while I pestered her about looking at the Weaver Home records. She, along with Jim Greve and Chad Underwood, fought hard for me to access those, and were unfailingly friendly about it, too. Katie Lemza, of the Office of Archives and Black/Asian Catholics in the Diocese of Richmond, got me the diocesan records of St. Joseph’s Parish. Carla Canady and Sister Celia Struck, the archivists for the Josephites and the Franciscan Sisters respectively, were enormously helpful over email, and special mention must go to Sister Ellen Carr, who “did some digging” in the Baltimore archives while in town on her own business! J. David Young is not an archivist, but the Executive Director of the FRIENDS Association for Children, and took the time to speak to me on the phone about the history of the organization and Lucy Goode Brooks. Lara Vapnek is likewise not an archivist, but she took the time to advise a fellow historian on the practice of wet nursing and recommend additional resources in that vein. The administrative apparatuses of William & Mary are more helpful and, indeed, friendly than most. History department mavens Daneene Kelley and Gail Conner, before her untimely passing, kept us all on track with funds, forms, and food. Swem Library graciously allowed me to keep books for years on end, and the Inter-Library Loan department more than earned their pay with all the books I asked them for. Beyond the administration, William & Mary’s academic programs and institutes are unparalleled. The Omohundro Institute gave me more than just the ability to footnote properly (although that was a significant benefit); they also continued to employ me for several freelance projects that kept my editing pen sharp and my bank account comfy. Many thanks to Ginny Chew, Meg Musselwhite, Kathy Burdette, Nadine ii Zimmerli, and of course Gil Kelly, esq. That first year of graduate school of course led to many more, and I would be remiss not to mention all those who taught me something (in a classroom) along the way: Karin Wulf, Chandos Brown, Guillaume Aubert, Scott Nelson, Cindy Hahamovitch, Liz Barnes, Hiroshi Kitamura, Susan Kern, Fred Corney, Paul Mapp, Mel Ely, and Michelle Lelievre. The “other institute” bears special mention, as it is no exaggeration to say that I would not have been at William & Mary, or even in graduate school, without it. NIAHD entered my life at the tender age of sixteen and I refused to leave for the next fourteen years. It incited a desire to study history critically and an interest in Virginia and its unique place in the national story; it provided an environment in which to blossom not only as a student and teenager, but as a burgeoning leader; and it gave me valuable experience as a supervisor, manager, problem-solver, and teacher. “It” of course is only as good as its people: the Whittenburgs and Dave Corlett, who have been there since the beginning; Sarah McCartney, who taught me so much of what I know; and Julie Richter, who has solicited my opinions as an equal. Not to mention the hundreds of students I have watched grow into young adults, the dozens of RPAs I have enjoyed the insanity with, and the fellow instructors who know. As we say at my alma mater, Texas A&M, “From the outside looking in, you can’t understand it.