The Nana Letters: A Love Story

The Nana Letters

The Love Letters of Anna Todd

Edited by Mary C. Olson

Copyright 2013 Mary Olson

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Table of Contents

Prologue

Introduction

Part One: Young Lady in Search of a Lively Correspondent

Part Two: The Heart That Is Beating for Thee

Part Three: Family Objections

Part Four: Grant in Woodstock

Part Five: Mrs. Grant Henry

Epilogue

Appendix

Notes

Bibliography

Nana Todd

Prologue

When there is a death in the family, some things are irretrievably lost. But sometimes things come to light that were thought lost or were previously unknown. In 2003, and Jon and Linda Gresham were sorting through crumbling letters, stained diaries, sepia photos, and old newspaper clippings glued into a book on agriculture, all of it the records of several generations of the Henry family --from Madison County, New York to Defiance County Ohio to their destination in Des Moines Iowa. Jon’s mother, Catherine Henry Gresham, had always talked about family history, so when Jon and Linda opened a package of letters from Nana Todd to Jon’s grandfather, Grant Henry, they knew who she is, but were quite unprepared for the drama that unfolds as they read the letters. It is a story of burgeoning love growing into a commitment that the correspondents believe will last a lifetime, but the fascinating aspect of this love story is that the lovers have never met face to face. Jon and Linda were entranced with Nana, with her boldness toward Grant, her frequent use of sentimental poems and song lyrics, her strategies for overcoming family interference and Grant’s several attacks of cold feet. Fascinated, they kept reading through to the sad ending. And there were the photos the lovers exchanged, the autograph book with Nana’s poem, the telegrams, all of it saved by a man who felt compelled to keep these fragments of his first great love.

It is likely that no one had read Nana’s letters after Grant put them away for safekeeping in 1888 until Jon and Linda discovered them in 2003. When Catherine talked about Nana, some of her information was inaccurate, probably misremembered from a conversation with her father. Grant’s second wife, Bertha, and Catherine after her, saved the letters because they were part of Henry family history, not because of any interest in Nana. But Nana deserves to be remembered for herself. She would no doubt blush to know that her private correspondence is publicly revealed, but her engaging personality is so clearly made manifest, and all of them have been gone so long from this life, that there can surely be no harm in allowing others a glimpse into Nana’s private world.

Introduction

The year is 1887. The West is still wild, the telephone has only recently been invented, Grover Cleveland is serving his first term as U.S. president, and the Statue of Liberty has been in place less than a year. The U.S. has thirty-eight states. In Canada, the prime minister is John A MacDonald, and the transcontinental railroad is only two years old.

In Iowa, a young man looking for love advertises himself in a personals newspaper. He is twenty-one-year-old Grant Henry, a Berwick storekeeper and son of a farmer, slightly crippled from contracting polio as a small child.

Sixteen-year-old Anna Todd in Woodstock, Ontario answers his advertisement. No longer in school and with no marriage prospects or occupation, she longs for something that will end her state of limbo. Their correspondence warms rapidly and leads through thorny paths to what seems to be a happy ending, but ultimately to tragedy.

Grant places his ad in the February edition of The Chicago Helping Hand, a newspaper that specializes in personal ads, saying he is a good-looking man seeking young ladies in search of a lively correspondent. From the beginning he is captivated by Nana Todd and she by him. Their letter-writing relationship progresses at dizzying speed.

In her second letter Nana flirts shamelessly, in spite of her disclaimer that she is not a flirt. She sends kisses and a pun on tulips. Grant’s third letter mentions love. They both seem hopelessly eager and naïve in their ability to accept one another as represented, although Nana lies about her age. Nana’s third letter is addressed to My dearest Grant, and then My darling Grant. They exchange pictures accompanied by the hope that they will not be rejected because of looks, each in turn followed by reassurances that this will not be the case. Grant’s picture shows a small, thin, somewhat melancholy young man with slightly protruding ears. The leg brace that he wears is not visible. Nana wears a stylish black dress and an elaborate hat. Unlike Grant, who gazes into space, Nana looks cheerfully and directly at the camera. She looks quite self-confident and mature enough to be at least eighteen.

The correspondence begins in March, soon featuring expressions of warm affection, but by April, something has happened to make Grant cautious--he writes to break off the correspondence. His excuse is that he has too much work to allow him the time to write letters. Although Anna is devastated, she replies gracefully, assuring him that she would not stand in the way of his work, and hoping that some time in the future he may wish to resume the correspondence. Grant gives no clue as to the real reason for backing off; perhaps his mother discourages him (as she will try to do later), perhaps he has met another lively young lady, or perhaps he is not ready to go where the path seems to be leading him. Or perhaps he really does have a lot of work to do. There seems to be one or more letters missing at this point, because in the next letter, written in June, the correspondence has resumed as if nothing has happened. Who wrote to break the silence? There is no way to know, but Grant’s reluctance has disappeared--by the end of June, he proposes marriage. It comes as no surprise that Nana accepts. She has been sending broad hints all along --lengthy discussions on the likelihood that she will become an old maid, and finally a complaint that her mother is insisting that she go to college. She has no desire to go to college, but for an old maid, it seems necessary. She is stuck with it unless something intervenes.

Nana’s acceptance is only conditional, however. First she must unburden herself --she is penniless. If Grant can accept her on these terms, she is his. The revelation is surprising, not because she has given a false impression of wealth, but because the obverse is so evident. Grant, of course, is not put off by her penury. They set a wedding date for the following May. Thereafter her letters are filled with plans for the wedding. Always impassioned, they become more so. Her sister finds it queer that she could fall in love with someone she has never seen, but at first no one seems to have objections to the wedding. In a moment of dramatic irony, Nana tells Grant that she is never ill, so he need have no fears about her health. The path to matrimony is not smooth, however, for family interventions arise, and Nana makes plans to elope.

Nana’s forwardness may seem surprising because we have the idea that girls of her time were expected to be demure and compliant. In fact, Nana does expend considerable effort to seem compliant, but at the same time, she does her best to remain in control of the situation. She uses several methods to do so. First, while claiming deference to Grant in everything, she makes sure her opinions and wishes are known. Second, she tries to forestall any possibility of his backing off by telling him she knows he would not do such a thing. Third, she provides many disclaimers about her looks, talents, and financial situation, but in such a way that one does not really believe her. Fourth, she flatters Grant and appeals to his need for love by admiring and approving of everything about him indiscriminately. Although she claims little experience with gents, and swears absolute fidelity to him, she makes it known that there are other young men who might be interested in case he decides to back out. Finally, she calls upon the cultural ideals of love and fidelity found in poetry and popular song lyrics. Within the confines of her limited feminine role, she adroitly negotiates the paths open to her in order to arrive at the desired destination of matrimony.

Managing Grant is the easy part. She must engage in power struggles with others, and those others are almost all women. Both mothers forbid the marriage, and her sister uses clandestine means to discover and reveal her plans. Once these contests begin, for Grant it is a matter of where the strongest influence lies --in his love for Nana and desire not to disappoint her and to have a mate, or in his filial deference to the wishes of his mother and father.

Nana says in her first letter that her mother is a widow. About her father, she says only that he was English. Perhaps he has been dead for many years, or perhaps Nana does not want to present herself as a victim or needy, but as a person who can take care of herself (although she would prefer to have someone carry her off.) However, the absence of a protective father figure may have given added impetus to the need to marry.

Part One

Young Lady in Search of a Lively Correspondent

Letter One¹

Nana to Grant

Woodstock March 2/87

To Mr.___________

Berwick, Iowa

Friend ____________

While perusing the last No. of the Chicago Helping Hand, I noticed your advertisement.

You wish young ladies in search of a lively correspondent to answer your notice. I am one of those young ladies, so here I am trying to write you a letter. I am delighted with your description, but you omitted one thing --your age. I shall be very happy to exchange photos as well as correspond with you. You say you are good looking. Well, I am one of those who does not judge a gentleman by his looks. I like him for himself and not his looks. Now, perhaps you will think this statement of mine too impudent, after you saying you were good-looking. But suffice it to say that I shall be only too glad to find a young man --or old one either --who is good-looking and along with his good looks can be nice and unconceited. I suppose you will expect my description; well, here goes then, from the top of the head to the sole of my foot.

I was 18 years of age on the 28th of last month.² I am 5 ft. 5 in. in height; weigh 128 pounds, have blue eyes and brown hair, rosy cheeks, and a dimpled chin, take no. 4 shoes, wear no. 6 ¼ gloves, and measure 21 inches around the waist. There, now how does that catch you? Quick, I suppose. But there is yet one fact of which I ought to inform you; I hardly like to tell you, but then I think the truth is more precious to you than fibs. This it is that I must tell you --I am not pretty and I am not ugly; neither am I rich.

I am a Canadian by birth but have always felt a special friendliness for the Yankees. I am convinced that, as the saying goes, the Yankee boys snag the bag.³ I live in the most charming, picturesque town in Ontario; it is called Woodstock. My mother is a widow, and I have only one sister and two brothers single; I shall soon be able to say I have only one single brother. I expect I shall be an old maid. Of course I have a little temper of my own, but as it can stand a good test, it is very