As I hoisted my bike up about a foot in the air to clear the railroad tracks, I wasn’t thinking about the Victorian Era. I was watching my daughter ahead of me as she followed her dad on this interesting bike ride.
Diverging from the Elijah Furnace trail and crossing into Panther Hollow, it was one of the two parts that required walking instead of pedaling. We were almost to our destination of Schenley Park in Oakland, Pennsylvania.
Shocking elopement
My teenaged daughter lives a different life than her counterparts in the Victorian Era. Alexandrina Victoria became the Queen of England at 18 in 1837. Four years later, Pittsburgh’s socialites were shocked to hear of the elopement of Mary Elizabeth Croghan.
At the young age of 15, Mary was the bride of 43-year-old Captain Edward Wyndham Harrington Schenley of the British Army. The defamation was deepened by the fact that it was the third elopement of the captain. The couple met while Mary was in boarding school in Staten Island, New York.
Mary’s maternal grandfather, General James O’Hara, was a successful businessman in the early days of Pittsburgh’s industrial boom. As the only child and heir, Mary was set to inherit large tracts of land in the Pittsburgh area. When her father found out about the marriage, he was outraged.
Between fainting and the audacity of requesting the federal government to stop the newlyweds’ ship bound for London, the father of the bride also contacted church ministers. He wanted the marriage publicly denounced. Parenting a teenager is difficult. It seems that being raised in the Iron City gave Mary an iron will. Even Queen Victoria refused to present the couple at court in London. As is the case with many scandals, the drama simmered down.
The star-crossed lovers remained in London for the duration of their 36-year marriage and were parents to 11 children. Mary became astute in business dealings and a well-known philanthropist.
Schenley Park
Schenley Park was the dream of E.M. Bigelow, Pittsburgh’s first Director of Public Works. He was later known as the “Father of the Parks.” He enlisted help from R.B. Carnahan, a businessman in Pittsburgh with ties to Schenley.
Carnahan traveled to London to convince Mary to donate the land instead of selling the property to a real-estate developer. A gift of 300 acres was secured. The creation of the park increased the value of the surrounding land.
Mary Schenley later sold another 100-acre tract for development for three times their assessed value. At the time of her death in 1903, she was the largest owner of real estate in Allegheny County.
As I jumped back on my bike and pedaled through Panther Hollow, I didn’t know much about Mary Schenley, but I could appreciate the lasting beauty of her gift. The rugged nature of the area persists. Peaceful streams meander under the rocky foundations of several bridges.
History of bridges
Upon closer inspection, I could make out the letters WPA engraved on one of the largest stones. Between 1938 and 1939, 11 bridges were constructed by the Works Progress Administration along the streams leading to Panther Hollow lake.
Established by Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the WPA provided relief for the unemployed in the form of jobs and income. In the chasm of despair created by the Great Depression, the WPA lifted millions of Americans by giving them worth and purpose.
After another grueling feat of guiding my bike upwards along the steps out of the hollow, I was rewarded with a ride across the Schenley Bridge. Adorned with hundreds of locks of love, the bridge is a gateway into Oakland.
The tradition of putting a lock on a bridge comes from Paris. Lovers profess their undying love for each other before they toss the key into the Seine River for good fortune. In Oakland, this translates into combination locks on a 125-year-old bridge over Panther Hollow.
Passing by Phipps Conservatory, I could see the Carnegie Museums up ahead. Our trip through Panther Hollow was an intrepid journey through time and city folklore.
When Mary Schenley passed away, her obituary in the New York Times stated that her elopement was “the greatest romance in Pittsburgh’s early history.”
Just as her love affair strengthened and grew over time, Schenley Park continues to evolve by providing a natural sanctuary for city dwellers, university students and other visitors.
