TAHLEQUAH DAILY PRESS — During the Civil War, soldiers sometimes spent more than a month's salary on a valentine card. And it may not even have gone to their wives or girlfriends, but to their mothers.

While such sentiments may be admirable, few women today would want lavish amounts spent on a card. They'd want a more lasting, and visible, token of affection, such as a piece of jewelry.

The women who attended a Victorian valentine workshop at the Murrell Home Saturday didn't spend nearly a month's pay for the event, but came away with several cards and a plethora of ideas for creating others. Martha Ray, director of historic sites for the Oklahoma Historical Society and a showcase of knowledge about Victorian customs, led the workshop.

"Valentine's Day originally was a holiday that was celebrated by women, and the cards were given from woman to woman. It was friendship then, not love," Ray said.

During the Civil War, men got into the act by sending cards to their wives, girlfriends, and of course, their mothers back home. In that era, a handmade, imported valentine card could cost as much as $22, and the foot soldier only drew about $12 a month, if he got paid, Ray said. Cheaper cards were available, and postage was affordable -- a penny in those days.

"They were expensive, but you can buy one for as little as a penny then," she said.

Ray displayed samples of Victorian valentines, plus a few from the early 1900s, including a century-old card depicting a car with flowers on its wheels, carrying Cupid.

During the 1890s, valentine cards began to incorporate humor, not necessarily the kind the recipient would appreciate.

"A man might send a lady a valentine and not sign his name. It might even contain a marriage proposal," Ray sent.

On Valentine's Day, the man might hang around the woman's house to see how she reacted to the card, and to him and any other men who might be present.

Another "funny" card might say something like, "You may have the biggest nose in town, but I still love you." Again, the man's joy came from viewing the woman's reaction.

Like Victorian interiors with their plethora of fancy furnishings and knickknacks displayed about everywhere, Victorian valentines were elaborate. They included many cutouts, multiple pieces, hand-cut paper lace, feathers and other "froufrou," as Ray termed it.

"They could be hand-painted, hand-tinted. You could buy any type of valentine here in the United States that was available in Europe," Ray said.

The makings of such cards abounded in the packets Ray distributed.

"There's pink stuff everywhere. It just flies everywhere!" she said, pursuing a piece of feather boa that escaped from one of the packets.

One Victorian card was hand-shaped, with a feather boa. The sentiment fit into the card like a hand into a glove.

Victorians fancied intricate shapes, fold-out cards, and cards with many parts.

"You're not going to use everything that's in there. You have a choice of what to use," Ray said.

The packets contained enough material for several additional cards to be made at home. She also told them where to seek more supplies.

"You can use pattern paper, you can use wallpaper, you can use scrapbooking paper, whatever you like," she said.

Victorians often used illustrations cut out of magazines or advertisements.

The tables also contained fancy. deckle -edged scissors, hole punches and ink pads for antiquing the edges of the paper.

Ray asked how many had attended a similar workshop before. Five of the 16 raised their hands.

"I never know who's going to be in the class, but what we're going to be doing this year is totally different," Ray promised them.

Martha Spillman of Fort Gibson was one of the repeats.

"I had done a class with Martha [Ray] five or six years ago. It was so much fun. We made a purse card, and I've used that pattern over and over," she said. "I was lucky I wasn't working today. Martha is such a great teacher."

Many people have asked her where she got the ideas for the cards she made, and she came ready to get more ideas.

"Today you're going to be making an envelope card because the Victorians liked them," she said.

Ray told them to select five pieces of fancy paper. After forming the envelopes, they cut out tags that would express sentiments. Each would be inserted into one of the envelopes and attached with a ribbon, perhaps with a heart adorning it.

Ray showed them a card with the sentiment stating, "In the game of love, I consider myself a winner, and you're the prize."

First, the group members picked out the paper for the five envelopes, resulting in a frenzy of trading.

"Does anybody like this paper?"

"Does anybody like these colors?"

"Are you using those polka dots? I'm looking for more polka dots."

Ray had additional sheets of paper so all could put together their desired ensembles.

Then it was time to cut.

"You need to hold it very tightly so it doesn't slip," Ray said.

They folded the paper and used glue sticks to form the envelopes.

"Well, it doesn't have to be perfect," one cardmarker commented. "They're handmade. I'm not perfect, so they're not either."

"Are you a teacher? How do you know how to do that?" one woman asked the person sitting beside her.

"No, I just listened," was the response.

Several groups of friends or relatives attended the workshop.

"My stepmom recommended it as something fun to do," said Sara Kruczek, a student.

She came to the workshop with her stepmom. She planned to give the cards she made to her stepmother, her mother and sisters.

What about a boyfriend?

"Possibly; we'll see," she said.

As an experienced cardmaker, Spillman was beginning to suggest ideas.

"You could make a double package and put two of them together, one on the inside and one on the outside," she said.

Intent on her cardmaking, she turned to Ray.

"Do we have to go to lunch or can we stay here and work?" she said.

Several joined her, continuing with their craft during the lunch hour.

Cora Lathrop said one thing that motivated her to attend the workshop was "the need to be creative and get out of the house in the cold weather."

She had an altruistic motive, also.

"I'm going to send my cards to the troops. The Cherokee Nation Veterans Office is asking for cards to send," she said

Ray interrupted the conversation and card-making.

"You all need to come to a stopping spot so we can go on," she said.

She told those who hadn't finished the envelope cards they could do so at home, while they went on to a mason jar card. Each cut a mason jar from a sheet of vellum, a translucent paper. They glued it onto a card, then filled it with whatever they wanted -- hearts, butterflies, confetti -- that floated free inside the jar shape.

It could contain a sentiment inside such as, in the case of the butterflies, "You make my heart flutter."

They also learned to make an envelope for the card, using matching or contrasting paper.

Ray told them to fit the cards inside the envelope first.

"You need to make sure your card will fit in there before you do any gluing," she said.

She said the homemade cards and envelope can be sent through the mail.

"If you're going to mail them, just make sure you have them weighed at the post office so you get the proper postage," she said.

The participants left with cards, and a sense of triumphant satisfaction.

"Ta-da! Mine's done!" Lathrop said as she held up her mason jar card.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Spillman complimented -- enough reward for a job well done on a chilly Saturday afternoon.