Complicated customs for social visits in early Laramie
In pre-1900 Laramie, women with time on their hands visited each other in very prescribed ways. It might do for some to visit over the back fence while hanging up laundry, but that was the maid’s job in many Laramie homes. For genteel Laramie women, casual meetings happened in churches and stores, but a visit in someone’s home was covered by much more rigid customs.
The lady of the house didn’t hang up laundry if she possibly could afford to hire someone. The presence of a maid distinguished one social sphere from another. Today we hesitate to refer to fixed rules that governed social interactions, but everyone knew the customs. “Ladies” entertained; their servants assisted in the rituals.
AT HOME DAYS
One of the more formal processes was that which accompanied “At Home Days.” This was a time when women announced that they would be receiving other women visitors—often a regular time every week when the hostess could be counted upon to be at home. Rather than a notice in a newspaper, like an open house announcement, these invitations were delivered in person by the lady of the house or her maid stopping by homes of women she would welcome.
A maid answering the front door would receive a calling (or “visiting”) card inscribed by hand on the back with the date and time of the caller’s At Home Day. Sometimes there was a custom of turning down the upper right-hand corner of the card to indicate the caller had come in person to extend the invitation rather than sending her maid with the invitation.
However, there were other subtle clues that might have meant something in certain social circles. For instance, an upper left-hand corner turned down might mean congratulations, a turned lower left-hand corner could mean that the bearer was offering condolences, and a turned lower right- hand corner could mean “taking leave.” This indicated that the person offering the card would be going on a long trip—so if you wanted to visit beforehand, best to do it now.
Really? I’m sure these clues only worked if everyone knew what they meant. The most common was the one indicating that the bearer of the card came in person (turning down the upper right-hand corner).
STATUS CONVEYED
It would have been a thrill for a newcomer to Laramie to receive an in-person call from a prominent community member like Mrs. Col. Downey or Mrs. E. Ivinson, especially if the caller came in person. No one expected to be admitted to an “audience” while dropping off a calling card. It was simply an invitation to the At Home Day announced on the back of the card.
Women who left their cards generally knew in advance which families had maids and which did not. If a woman called in person at the home of a person who did not have a maid, the call was usually for a much different purpose than purely social—to offer condolences, to bring food or medicines that might be needed, or for some other specific purpose.
MEN EXCLUDED
Men and children were excluded from women’s At Home Days. These were strictly occasions for women to get together. The card itself could be very elaborate, embellished with all kinds of flourishes and hand-applied color, but it only included the person’s name. A street address was not included—everyone knew where the hostess lived. No such thing as phone numbers existed when the custom prevailed.
The European and eastern U.S. calling card custom was adopted for only a short time in the west. Telephones became available in the mid-1880s, and after 1900, fewer homes had maids. One source from England suggests that the At Home Day custom went out of favor by the 1890s, though in Laramie it might have persisted longer.
AIR LOCK ENTRIES
An architectural feature of homes that facilitated the dropping off of calling cards may have predated the need for energy conservation. It was the “air lock” entry that allowed the caller to be invited inside, though not inside the house itself.
This small vestibule, like the one in the 1892 Ivinson Mansion, might be large enough for a chair and a hall tree, for a coat or dripping umbrella. A woman dropping off her card with an invitation would leave the card in a tray provided for that purpose in the vestibule, and then she would be ushered out by the maid.
Now those air locks serve another recognized need—preventing the cold outside air from penetrating to the interior. They are a common feature of some home and office designs now, as well as other institutional buildings.
TRADESMEN ENTRANCES
Another architectural feature of pre-1900 elegant homes was a tradesman’s door off to the side of the house. A friend or neighbor would never call at that door. It was only for door-to-door salesmen or other local tradesmen with business that could be conducted with the owners or perhaps with their housekeeper.
This is not to be confused with the kitchen entrance to the house, usually covered with a back porch where in Laramie, the ice box would be kept, to take advantage of the cold night air. The kitchen entrance was off that porch. This is where deliveries were made of foods that the cook may have requested through a visit to grocers.
The Ivinson Mansion in Laramie does have all three types of entrances, the elegant front door for formal visits, the tradesman’s entrance on the west, and the kitchen entrance on the east.
OPEN HOUSES
A Victorian custom that was followed in early Laramie was that of holding an “Open House” on New Year’s Day. On December 28, 1875, Editor J.H. Hayford of the Laramie Sentinel ran a short note that if any Laramie friends were contemplating holding an open house to receive their friends on New Year’s Day, he would “cheerfully make the announcement in the Sentinel.”
The rules for this open newspaper invitation might have been different. Husbands and adult children might have been included, though it would have been uncommon for young children to have been brought along. Even the children of the hosts would usually be hidden upstairs with a nanny for these festive events.
The December 31, 1878 issue of the Laramie Sentinel shows that a number of women accepted the Sentinel’s offer of publicizing their New Year’s Day open houses. However, all of these announcements stated that the woman of the house was the one holding the event. Had the announcement said “Mr. and Mrs. E. Ivinson will receive at their residence . . . “–-then men would be included. But the 1878 announcements named no male hosts. Did everyone know that meant only women were expected to come? If so, it leaves us wondering why husbands were left home on New Year’s Day.
The notices appeared the day before the events, so there wasn’t time to invest in a new dress or hat. They were worded like these examples: “Mrs. Dr. Dysart will receive from 1 till 6 p.m. Mrs. E. W. Nye will receive at her residence from 1 to 5 p.m., assisted by Misses Connie Henshaw and Clara Donlevy, of Cheyenne. Mrs. L. D. Pease and Mrs. Briggs, assisted by Mrs. T. J. Dayton, Miss Kate Van Buskirk and Miss Ashiton, will receive at the residence of L. D. Pease.” There follows a listing of 11 other women who will be hosting an open house that day, ending with “Mrs. E. Ivinson will receive at her residence from 1-5 p.m. assisted by her daughter, Mrs. G. B. Grow.”
Can we assume that everyone in Laramie knew in 1879 that no men were included in the open invitation to a New Year’s Day gathering?
Note that none of the married women used their first names. They always went by their husband’s initials, unless they were unmarried. Only then was a woman’s first name used in print. [As an aside, an archivist at U.W. told me that one of the researchers requesting to read all the minutes of the Laramie League of Women Voters was looking for the date when the women writing the minutes started using the first names of the women participating in the meeting. It wasn’t until the early 1970s.]
Presumably “Open Houses” announced in the newspapers would allow any woman calling at the home to be admitted to a drawing room or parlor where the hostess would offer tea and polite conversation with whomever happened to be present. When the room became crowded, those who had been there the longest were expected to take their leave and go on to the next house. Some guides suggest that a 20-minute stay per home was adequate.
BUSINESS CARDS
Calling cards morphed into business cards, which men had been exchanging with each other as a means of staying in touch. Unlike calling cards, they carried more information, much as they do today. The most prestigious cards were engraved, with the letters pressed down into the card stock to make an impression. Letterpress companies still exist, producing fancy wedding announcements and business cards for clients—who might be both men and women.
The calling card custom has faded away, though vestiges of it still remained for a while, such as the calling cards that used to be exchanged among graduating seniors of a high school class. These were collected in special autograph card booklets, but never served the purpose that they once had in Victorian times.
GENTLEMEN CALLERS
It was quite different when a man called alone at a Laramie home. If he was unexpected, the maid would probably accept a calling card, and if the man of the house were home, take it to him for a decision on whether the man would be admitted or not. It would be understood that the woman of the house was not involved in this visit.
The customs changed if there were a young unmarried girl in the family and a gentleman caller appeared at the door. These calls would normally be expected. The young woman or her parents might have issued an invitation to an eligible bachelor. For instance, in the 1880s, banker Edward Ivinson issued a dinner invitation to a young cowboy he met at church one Sunday. It was no coincidence that the Ivinson’s daughter Maggie was of marriageable age.
The ploy paid off, for before too long the young man from Pennsylvania, Galusha Grow, wed Maggie and gave up the cowboy lifestyle in favor of managing a bank in California, which Edward Ivinson eventually purchased specifically for his new son-in-law to operate.
By Judy Knight