26–27: Please meet me.”51 Her letter with its tone of urgency succeeded. The AAUW did meet in Natchitoches. Topics addressed included “Our Part toward Tomorrow,” “In International Relations, Survival of the Fittest,” and “University Woman’s Objections.” While efforts toward concrete actions regarding the war effort do not seem to have coalesced as a result of this convention, the very act of meeting kept the organization active.52
French spoke at numerous local AAUW branches during her tenure. She served until 1943, when she was succeeded by C. C. Colvert.53 The transition was facilitated by a past president, Sarah Clapp, who wrote to her: “In the helter-skelter of Saturday, you disappeared without my saying to you how great is my satisfaction in your administration from the first day to the last, how high a mark you have set for future presidents to aim at, and what a pleasure it is to work with you in any capacity whatever.”54 This view was seconded by Dr. Agnes Ellen Harris, who wrote: “You have been such an ideal and wonderful President.”55
French was awarded an AAUW International Fellowship Grant for 1951–1952. She continued to attend state and national conventions. As was her custom, in her 1949–1950 conference program book she took notes on a lecture (likely that of Helen Dwight Reid) that particularly resonated with her: “1. Think for ourselves on every question. 2. Hold fast the spiritual, moral, and democratic ideals and values of our forefathers—the founders of America. 3. Must not hate men, but must hate wrong … hate war and end war for all time. 4. We must be stabilized and retain our ideals of peace and culture. 5. Get ready for tomorrow.”56
The work of the AAUW at that time paved the way for the acceptance of women in academe and indeed, shone a spotlight on women’s issues in general. French recognized the importance of this and lent her time and prodigious energy to that work. Her years with the AAUW as both member and as leader meant much to her. Her AAUW pin remained in her possession to the end of her days.
French was active in a number of other activities. She was a member in the Colonial Dames of America, she taught Sunday school at the First Methodist Church in Shreveport and at the London Methodist Church in the summer, and she was a member of the Shakespearean Society of America, Phi Theta Kappa and Chi Omega, the Modern Language Association, and the National Society of the Daughters of the Byrons of Runney.57 Put all this together, and we have a picture of a committed, active woman. This is even more extraordinary in light of the health issues that French faced. She took numerous absences from the Woman’s Department Club in the late 1920s, including one attributed to “continued illness.”58 We have an indication of what may have been wrong in an early letter from her sister Annie: “It is hard to get away with … that flu after having it. Hope your heart holds out better than before.”59 This is the first clue of the heart condition that later took French’s life. She took a year off from the Woman’s Department Club in 1929–1930 but apparently returned undaunted and resumed her lectures and busy schedule.60
Mother Katherine
French’s daughter Katherine attended Centenary College during her mother’s tenure there, graduating in 1935.61 This must have been a complicated situation as French proved to be a concerned and somewhat overprotective parent. Young Katherine spent part of her first year at Mount Holyoke, apparently on some kind of transfer program, as she is also listed in the 1931 Centenary College yearbook. Correspondence from that time has French issuing orders to her daughter on virtually every issue from wardrobe to travel plans to study efforts. When Katherine struggled at Holyoke with both health issues and study skills, her mother attempted to help by sending material for her projects, including information for a paper on ballads:
I have gathered up material for your Shakespeare and your ballad paper. Now Angel, this ballad material is absolutely new. Your teacher likely does not know half as much as I do. Not boasting, but I spent years at work on it. The only new book worth reading is Davidson’s [sic] Traditional Ballads of Virginia62 and I have gleaned the best of it. The article I send is one I prepared for the press and has never been published. You can use some of that as you had gone with me saying you as a child had accompanied your mother on your researches. Such a character as Aliza Bullard or Mrs. Watkins or your Aunt Nanny Bob’s mother are the ones to use. Do you recall our trip to Columbus and can you remember Mrs. Branson. If you can remember her and her singing…. You do not need to do any library work as it is all here. You may have to omit a lot of the personal incidents as they may be too personal. Mrs. Foster knows I lecture on this and asked me to address her classes the last time I was there.
This is a very uncomfortable missive. French tells her daughter to use her material and claim she remembered things she clearly did not and instructs her as to how to pass off her work as her own. This overprotectiveness is tempered by another sentiment: “I hope deeply that this critical theme works the charm and gets you a good grade. I wish to help you in any honest way, but not for anything would I make it too easy for that would do you no good.”63
Overestimating her daughter’s modest academic efforts and abilities, French fruitlessly tried to get Katherine placed at Oxford. Either projecting her own wishes or hoping to provide inspiration, she wrote: “Every thing has its price, and the intellectual life demands a heavy one. However, you and I will sacrifice everything trivial for its possession.”64 Daughter Katherine was not a stellar undergraduate student, but it should be added that she went on to earn a master’s in art from Columbia University in summer sessions between 1937 and 1941. French wrote to her daughter during her summers in New York, confessing to nostalgia for her own days there: “I well recall my similar experiences. After New York, one gets lonely anywhere. But shall we omit going to the big city for that reason? I get so lonely for it, and for you, and for life some days.”65
French also explored the possibility of obtaining a position as president of Mount Holyoke, probably to be nearer her daughter. Here she hit a brick wall as the then president of the college, the iconic Mary Woolley, had no intention of resigning.
Like the rest of the nation, during the 1930s the Frenches were going through financial difficulties. Frank never struck it rich in oil, hoped-for appointments from the governor either did not pan out or did not pay much, and French often worked for long periods at Centenary without pay because of the toll the Depression took on the college’s financial situation.66 “This was the Depression,” said Kay Tolbert Buckland. “She taught for nothing at the college. She got very little. Nobody had any money to pay anything…. They worked for nothing…. Mom said they ate pancakes morning noon and night. They had friends jumping out of windows. A lot of their friends were these very wealthy people and they’re the ones who got hurt the worst.”67
Prior to and during the Depression years, Frank traveled a lot for work, trying to strike it rich in oil. A frequent word in French’s 1929 diary is lonely. There are several times she mentions spending nights alone because he was working. She also noted that he came to his mother-in-law’s funeral in 1920 ninety minutes late. Whether or not these entries indicate trouble within the marriage, they do indicate at least routine periods of separation as Frank and Katherine pursued their own careers.68
Briar Lodge: Old Kentucky Home
Despite deep financial problems, French managed to travel. In 1938, she sailed for England aboard the steamer Bienville, a trip made with her sisters and friends. She also made a point of staying in touch with her Kentucky roots. She was often a guest of honor at events in London. In 1933, she gave a speech near her childhood home at the dedication of a new state park, known today as Levi Jackson State Park. She attended the first Laurel County Homecoming in London in 1935, gave a speech about mountain ballad origins, and introduced Millie Phelps, who sang “Barbara Allen.” She continued to travel to London for summer homecomings and wrote “A History of London” for the town’s Founder’s Day celebration on August
