George PeabodyGeorge Peabody
After the war, when he was about nineteen, he became a partner with Elisha Riggs in a dry goods store in Georgetown and through his energy and skill the business increased tremendously. They moved to Baltimore, and when his partner retired, about 1830, he found himself, according toThe Encyclopædia Britannica, at the head of one of the largest mercantile concerns in the world. About seven years afterwards he established himself inLondon as a merchant and money-broker at Wonford Court in the city, and in 1843 he withdrew from the American business.
He was never married. He was a very intimate friend of Mr. Corcoran's, and in several letters to him speaks jokingly of himself as a confirmed old bachelor, and in one flouts the idea that he is attentive to a certain lady, saying that he never but once seriously thought of marriage.
Of course, he and Mr. Corcoran were near the same age and were both making their way as young men here in Georgetown at the same time, and it is very interesting to follow, from many letters, how their friendship continued through all their lives.
Mr. Peabody made frequent visits to his homeland, and used often to visit Mr. Corcoran at his home in Washington, and to spend the summers with him at the White Sulphur Springs.
When hearing of the beginning of the great gifts of his friend on this side of the water, he wrote in October, 1851:
However liberal I may be over here, I can not keep pace with your noble acts of charity at home; but one of these days I mean to come out, and then if my feelings regarding money don't change and I have plenty, I shall become a strong competitor of yours in benevolence.
However liberal I may be over here, I can not keep pace with your noble acts of charity at home; but one of these days I mean to come out, and then if my feelings regarding money don't change and I have plenty, I shall become a strong competitor of yours in benevolence.
He certainly made good his words. In London he entertained in princely style. The following letter is one of the many telling of his parties there:
London, May 16, 1853.My dear Corcoran:On the 18th I am to give a grand banquet to the American Minister and about sixty-five English and eighty-five American ladies and gentlemen, and have invited about fifty more forthe evening. Mr. Van Buren will be of the party and I hope to make it the best dinner party I have ever given, as I have the Star and Garter, Richmond, and the proprietor has no limit. I enclose you the programme of music during and after dinner.I have taken the house—Star and Garter—for a Fourth of July dinner to gentlemen only, and expect about 150. I hear from Mr. Ingersoll that your friend, Mr. Buchanan, will leave in June. Now, although I only know Mr. Buchanan from his high character and what you say of him, particularly as he is unmarried, and I would like to invite the party for the fourth of July to meet "the American Minister, Mr. Ingersoll, and the new Minister, Mr. Buchanan." Will you confer with Mr. Buchanan on receipt of this and try to get me permission to give the invitations as I propose? If Mr. Buchanan leaves 13th or 16th June, he will arrive in ample time.Very truly,George Peabody.
London, May 16, 1853.
My dear Corcoran:
On the 18th I am to give a grand banquet to the American Minister and about sixty-five English and eighty-five American ladies and gentlemen, and have invited about fifty more forthe evening. Mr. Van Buren will be of the party and I hope to make it the best dinner party I have ever given, as I have the Star and Garter, Richmond, and the proprietor has no limit. I enclose you the programme of music during and after dinner.
I have taken the house—Star and Garter—for a Fourth of July dinner to gentlemen only, and expect about 150. I hear from Mr. Ingersoll that your friend, Mr. Buchanan, will leave in June. Now, although I only know Mr. Buchanan from his high character and what you say of him, particularly as he is unmarried, and I would like to invite the party for the fourth of July to meet "the American Minister, Mr. Ingersoll, and the new Minister, Mr. Buchanan." Will you confer with Mr. Buchanan on receipt of this and try to get me permission to give the invitations as I propose? If Mr. Buchanan leaves 13th or 16th June, he will arrive in ample time.
Very truly,
George Peabody.
In 1867 he gave $15,000 to found the Peabody Library in Georgetown. A large donation was given by him to the second Grinnell Arctic Expedition. The museum in Salem, Massachusetts, called by his name, is a fascinating collection of historic relics. To his birthplace he gave 50,000 pounds ($250,000) for educational purposes; for the Peabody Institute in Baltimore 200,000 pounds ($1,000,000.00); to the trustees of the Peabody Educational Fund to promote education in the Southern States (part went to Washington and Lee University in Lexington). A dear old cousin of mine has told me of his visit to the White Sulphur to confer with Mr. Corcoran and Mr. Peabody on this subject. The thing he is remembered for in London is the erection of a huge block of model houses for working people at a cost of 500,000 pounds ($2,500,000). I suppose it was then that Queen Victoria wished to do him honor.
His true nature remained untainted by success, and Gladstone said of him: "He taught the world how a man may be master of his fortune, and not its slave."
In 1867 the Congress of the United States awarded him a special vote of thanks, and two years later, when he died in London on the 4th of November 1869, his body was brought home to America on a British warship, to be buried in Danvers, the town of his birth, now renamed Peabody in his honor.
NNOWADAYS, all to the east of here bordering on Rock Creek has been made into a park and playground, and some attractive houses built overlooking them.
NOWADAYS, all to the east of here bordering on Rock Creek has been made into a park and playground, and some attractive houses built overlooking them.
On the southeast corner of Montgomery (28th) Street and Dumbarton Avenue, the large brick building now used as a colored Temple of Islam was where Henry Addison, who had been mayor, was living when he died in 1870.
This house later was the home of General Christopher Colon Augur. One night he came out on his porch to remonstrate with a crowd of negroes gathered on this corner and making a disturbance. He was promptly shot by one of them.
Just east of here on Dumbarton Avenue at number 2720 is the home of the Alsop brothers, the well-known columnists, and a new Roman Catholic Church has been built for the colored people. There are six colored churches in the region hereabouts: This Catholic one, three Baptist churches, and two Methodists. Mount Zion Methodist on Greene (29th) Street is over a hundred years old. In the nineties, there were two men in the choir there, one an exceptional organist and the other, who had a very fine bass voice; he later went to Paris.
From this point to Rock Creek is the district that wasknown as Herring Hill, a synonym in the minds of old residents for the negro district. It got its name from the fact that in the spring great quantities of herring came up this far into the creek from the river, and were caught in large numbers.
I think this account, by Mr. William A. Gordon, of some of the customs of the negroes in the years gone by is very attractive and interesting:
Christmas was the great time for the negroes. Ordinarily, they were not allowed in the streets after the town bell rang at nine o'clock at night, but at Christmas this restriction was removed, and as midnight approached, bands of them would go through the streets singing hymns and carols before the houses of their white friends. The next morning the leader of the band called at the house and received a token of appreciation in the way of small coin.On May Day there was a parade of the negro drivers; many drove carts, drays and wagons, for on that day they had holiday, and paraded with wagons and horses adorned with ribbons, flowers and bright papers, the drivers wearing long white aprons, and headed by a band. They would then go to the woods and feast, dance and sing.
Christmas was the great time for the negroes. Ordinarily, they were not allowed in the streets after the town bell rang at nine o'clock at night, but at Christmas this restriction was removed, and as midnight approached, bands of them would go through the streets singing hymns and carols before the houses of their white friends. The next morning the leader of the band called at the house and received a token of appreciation in the way of small coin.
On May Day there was a parade of the negro drivers; many drove carts, drays and wagons, for on that day they had holiday, and paraded with wagons and horses adorned with ribbons, flowers and bright papers, the drivers wearing long white aprons, and headed by a band. They would then go to the woods and feast, dance and sing.
At the southeast corner of Dumbarton Avenue and Greene (29th) Street, the four little yellow houses made into one make the home of Drew Pearson, the widely-known columnist and commentator—co-author with Robert S. Allen of the original "Washington Merry-Go-Round."
A block west, on the southeast corner of Washington (30th) Street is a fine old house where Mrs. James Cassin lived as a wealthy widow during the 1850's. She was Tabitha Ann Deakins, of that old family so prominent in the making of the town.
James Cassin had come from Ireland to the City of Baltimore when he was about twenty years of age, on account of religious troubles, the motive which sent so many emigrants to the new country. He then moved over to this thriving seaport, married and settled, leaving his wife a very young widow with three sons. One of them, John, went far from home to live, and his mother's letters to him contain a great deal of interesting gossip. In one she tells that Margaret McVean has gone to Baltimore to buy her wedding dress, and, horror of horrors, has allowed the groom, Dr. Louis Mackall, to accompany her. Of course a chaperone was in the party, but what an indelicate thing for the groom to know anything about the wedding clothes! She ends with, "What are the young people coming to?" How often have we heard those same words in recent years. Of course in those days, a bride went into deep retirement for a week before the fateful day, not going out into the street at all, and as for seeing the groom on the day until she met him at the altar, that was simply unthinkable!
Margaret McVean was the daughter of the Reverend James McVean, who was born near Johnstown, New York, in 1796. He was a graduate of Union College in 1813, and of Princeton in 1819. It was said that he spoke seven languages with fluency and that the chair of Greek at Princeton was always open to him. He came to Georgetown about 1820 and married Jane Maffitt Whann in 1828. For twenty years he was the principal of a classical seminary for boys in Georgetown, the same one founded by Dr. David Wiley. There a large number of young men were prepared for college, who afterwards attained distinction in various professions or government positions oftrust and honor. He was for twenty-five years superintendent of the Presbyterian Sabbath School. He died July 8, 1847, and as a testimonial of respect, the Board of Common Council and Aldermen, of which he was a member, suspended business for eight days, and crêpe was worn on the arm for thirty days.
Another of these letters of Mrs. Cassin's tells that her son, William Deakins Cassin, has just become engaged to "that harumscarum Mittie Tyler." She fears for their future. Mittie (Mary) Tyler was the daughter of dear old Dr. Tyler across the street.
The mother-in-law's fears certainly did not materialize, for Mrs. Cassin, junior, lived a long and honored life. I remember her faintly when she was about eighty years old, with hair parted in the middle and combed down over each ear as "coal black as a raven's wing," as the old saying goes.
They all seemed to marry their neighbors in those days, for Sue, another daughter of Dr. Tyler's married Granville Hyde across the street.
The Hyde's house was next door to the Cassin's on the south. One can see that it is quite old, and it seems that it was built about 1798 by Charles Beatty, one of our old friends of the early days of George Town. He ran one of the ferries across the river to the Virginia shore. About 1806 he had sold the house to Nicholas Hedges; then it went to James Belt in 1822, and to Joshua Stuart in 1832. Later, it was bought by Mr. Thomas Hyde, one of the early merchants of Georgetown. His son, Anthony continued to live there and was for many years secretary to Mr. W. W. Corcoran. Anthony Hyde was very musicaland was part of the orchestra which furnished the music in Christ Church before it had an organ. Here grew up Mr. Thomas Hyde, who was very prominent in Riggs Bank and an early president of the Chevy Chase Club. He was a very distinguished looking man to the day of his death.
On the northeast corner of Washington (30th) and Gay (N) Streets is where tradition says Ninian Beall built his hunting cabin when he landed here. That could be borne out by the fact that a very fine spring of water was on that property. Many, many years later the family of Judge Dunlop at 3014 N Street used to send for pitchers of water from that spring, as they had an inherited right to do so.
The long, red building there, now the Colonial Apartments, is still spoken of as The Seminary. It was there that Miss Lydia English conducted her fashionable school for young ladies for many years before the Civil War. This was the school to which Andrew Johnson, while senator from Tennessee, sent his daughter. Years after, when he was being criticized for his defense of Roman Catholics, his enemies brought against him the fact that he had sent his daughter to a "convent" in Georgetown. They had confused the Visitation Convent with Miss English's Seminary. It is said that the roster of the patrons of this school in thoseante-bellumdays included the names of the most famous men in the country.
Miss Lydia EnglishMiss Lydia English
Among those names was that of Senator Thomas Hart Benton of Missouri, nicknamed "Old Bullion," on account of his opposition to paper currency. He was one of the supporters of President Andrew Jackson in his war on the United States Bank. One of the pupils at the Seminarywas his daughter, Jessie Benton, who afterwards became the wife of General C. Fremont, known as "The Pathfinder of the Rocky Mountains."
Miss English had large means of her own, which enabled her to keep her school going in spite of "ups and downs." But, when in need of advice, she would always turn to her near neighbor, James Cassin.
At one time she had nine teachers besides herself. In 1835 she had 130 pupils. It is said she was a stern headmistress, but she stood for all that was fine, and meant a great deal to Georgetown.
There is a story told of old "Aunt Abby," whose business it was to sit behind the parlor door whenever the young ladies had gentlemen callers, and how reassuring was the sound of her deep snores. Another story goes that the young bloods of Georgetown used to gather on the opposite corner where there was a pump and pretend to be getting a drink of water, while they were really serenading the hidden charmers, and that sometimes billet-doux and sweetmeats were drawn up in baskets unbeknownst to the "powers that were."
In 1859, Miss Harrover took over the school. The catalogue for that year calls it the Georgetown Female Seminary, and in the front is printed the following letter from Miss English:
To my former Pupils and their Parents, and to other Friends:At the request of Miss Harrover, who, for two years past, has satisfactorily conducted the Institution, over which I so long presided, and the care of which I relinquished, only because the condition of my health and hearing made it imperatively necessary. I would state, that my interest in its prosperity is undiminished, that I earnestly desire to see itflourish, and that as far as I have it in my power, it is my wish to extend its usefulness.In renting the Seminary, I retain my own suite of apartments, and have never withdrawn my residence from it. So far as I have influence, and opportunities, I endeavor to promote the improvement and comfort of the inmates of this establishment. I can not but feel a special interest in the children and other relatives of those who in former years were under my care and instruction, and it affords me much pleasure to see them pursuing their education within the same establishment. I shall rejoice to see the number of these, in the coming year greatly increased.With kind greetings, and best wishes, I remain,Yours respectfully,June 20, 1859.L. S. English.
To my former Pupils and their Parents, and to other Friends:
At the request of Miss Harrover, who, for two years past, has satisfactorily conducted the Institution, over which I so long presided, and the care of which I relinquished, only because the condition of my health and hearing made it imperatively necessary. I would state, that my interest in its prosperity is undiminished, that I earnestly desire to see itflourish, and that as far as I have it in my power, it is my wish to extend its usefulness.
In renting the Seminary, I retain my own suite of apartments, and have never withdrawn my residence from it. So far as I have influence, and opportunities, I endeavor to promote the improvement and comfort of the inmates of this establishment. I can not but feel a special interest in the children and other relatives of those who in former years were under my care and instruction, and it affords me much pleasure to see them pursuing their education within the same establishment. I shall rejoice to see the number of these, in the coming year greatly increased.
With kind greetings, and best wishes, I remain,
Yours respectfully,
June 20, 1859.L. S. English.
Among the names of the pupils I find that of my mother, and many more familiar to me all of my life.
When the first battle of Bull Run was fought, with such disastrous results to the Union Army, this building was immediately taken over by the United States government as a hospital, and Dr. Armistead Peter, although a Southern sympathizer, was drafted to be in charge of it. An old lady has told me how she was brought by her nurse on that Monday in July, the day after the battle, to watch the unloading of the wagons full of maimed and bleeding soldiers.
The row of frame houses across the street, on N Street, was built at that time as barracks for the non-commissioned officers on duty at the hospital.
Apparently, after the war, Miss Harrover never resumed her school, as, in 1870, it was being used as an apartment house. I rather think it must be the oldest apartment house in the District.
The part of the building on the corner was torn down several years ago and the Edes Home built. It is a home for Georgetown widows. As the money for it was left by Miss Margaret Edes, who was certainly never a widow, and the wording of her will said "for the indigent widows of Georgetown," many people think it was a mistake and was meant to read "the indigent women of Georgetown."
Just across the street from the Seminary stands the house which was "Old Dr. Tyler's" home. First of all, it was the home of George W. Riggs; after that, for many, many years, that of Dr. Grafton Tyler, the beloved physician. He was a native of southern Maryland, and a cousin of President Tyler.
During his long life Dr. Tyler enjoyed many honors of high professional distinction and was the intimate friend and companion of distinguished statesmen, jurists, and scholars.
In those days doctors took families at "so much" a year, including the slaves. Not long ago I heard this story about the dear old doctor. For years and years he had attended a family where there was an addition almost annually, and he had never sent a bill. Finally, when they were all nearly grown, the father inherited a nice little sum of money. Not long afterwards Dr. Tyler was called in for a slight illness. When the first of the year came round Dr. Tyler sent a bill. The morning after its receipt the father burst into the doctor's office in a rage, "What did he mean by sending him a bill? Tut, tut!" And there the matter ended.
Dr. Grafton TylerDr. Grafton Tyler
For a great many years Dr. Tyler was the physician for Georgetown College. It is still a tradition in the familyabout the turkeys and the very delicious raisin bread that came every Christmas from the priests.
His son, Dr. Walter Bowie Tyler, followed him, but not for long, as he had consumption, as tuberculosis was called in those days. He was asked to be pall-bearer at the funeral of a young lady who, as a dying request, asked to be carried up to Oak Hill because she had a horror of being put in a hearse. Dr. Tyler struggled along for two or three blocks when my father, who was very fond of him, stepped in, pushed him aside and finished the journey.
On the block above, on Washington (30th) Street, in a white, frame house on the west side of the street, lived Captain de la Roche, who was the architect of Oak Hill Cemetery and of Saint John's Church where he was a vestryman when it was remodeled in 1840. Apropos of that, several years ago while I was living away from Georgetown for a short period of years, on one of my return visits, I was standing on the corner of Dumbarton Avenue and 31st Street waiting for a street-car. The wait was long and I looked about me up and down the streets, to the westward, above the tree tops was an object totally strange to my Georgetown eyes, a church steeple of the somewhat Bulfinch type. I reasoned that it could not be anything but the steeple of Saint John's, but I knew I had never seen it look like that—it had always resembled a large pepper pot more than anything else. Upon inquiry, I found that not long before the vestry of Saint John's had found that some repairs were necessary on the tower, so one of their number, a civil engineer, ascended with an architect and while hunting around, they discovered part of the original tower still there, inclosed in the moremodern square building. It was torn away and the old church now bears part of its original headdress. Only the lower story of the tower remains as the smaller ones which used to surmount it had, of course, been lost.
Captain and Mrs. de la Roche had three daughters; two of them had married officers in the United States Army. When the Civil War came their sympathies were with the South. One husband promptly resigned and went with the Confederates. The other would not resign but his wife, being a very resourceful person, kept after him, not being able to stand having a husband in the hated Yankee army, until, during a temporary illness, she got him discharged as not fit for marching.
Captain de la Roche having died, his widow was forced to take boarders at her table, and several of the Union officers availed themselves of the bountiful Southern fare. After a while the youngest daughter, who was a red-hot rebel, found herself deeply in love with a young Yankee doctor. I wonder if he was on duty at the hospital in the Seminary down the street? An engagement followed and the marriage was imminent, but she could not bring herself to confess to her friends that she was about to become the wife of one of the despised soldiers. Finally her mother told her she must at least tell Mrs. Cassin, their neighbor on the corner, who was very devoted to her. So she summoned all her courage and marched down the street. After a great deal of humming and hawing, she finally got out the news and asked Mrs. Cassin to come to the quiet wedding at the home next day, but said, "Please don't tell Mittie until it is over."
Around the corner from Washington (30th) Street, at 3018 Dumbarton Avenue, is the house that Mr. GeorgeGreen built for his large family, when he sold his place, "Forrest Hill," which was part of Rosedale, to President Cleveland for his summer home. This is now the home of Justice Frankfurter.
Going westward along Dumbarton Avenue on the northern side of the street, now high up above it, stands the house where lived Jeremiah Williams, a prominent merchant, whose daughter married Paymaster Boggs. It is still sometimes called The Old Boggs Place.
The great bank of earth there shows what a deep cut had to be made when the street was leveled in the days when Alexander Shepherd, as Governor of the District, performed the office of surgeon on the streets of the city. He made of it a wonderful job, but was roundly hated by many of the property owners whom he left sitting way up in the air, or contrariwise, down in a hole.
The house is now divided into two houses—the one on the east, 3035, is the home of that fine commentator, Richard Harkness.
Across the street at 3040 is where Dr. and Mrs. Louis Mackall, Senior, lived and their daughter, Miss Sally Somervell Mackall who wrote her book about Georgetown calledEarly Days of Washington.
Before them the Edes family had lived there. The story is told of Miss Margaret, she who left the money for the Edes Home, one night, when she went up to her chamber, as they were called in those days, that she saw a man's boots protruding from under the bed. Instead of losing her head, she began whistling a little tune as she walked about the room, pulled out the bureau drawers as if looking for something, then went out of the room, closed thedoor and softly locked it, sent for the police and captured the burglar.
On the northwest corner of Dumbarton Avenue and Congress (31st) Street was the home of Judge Henry Henley Chapman, who came to Georgetown from Annapolis in the early twenties. He married Miss Mary Davidson, daughter of Colonel John Davidson whose brother Samuel was the owner of Evermay. Two of Judge Chapman's daughters married Francis Dodge, junior; first Jane, then Frances Isabella. His son, Edward, lived on in the home until his death when Mrs. Frances Isabella Dodge took it, had it remodeled somewhat, and entertained there a great deal. After her death it was bought by her stepson, of course also her nephew, Henry Henley Dodge, and I myself remember going to lovely parties given by his children in the big, old rooms.
The house was pulled down about 1900 and a row of brick houses built in its place. It was a handsome house, facing on Dumbarton Avenue, painted a greenish tan, with long porches running along the back building overlooking the yard which extended back to Christ Church. In this yard were two very handsome trees, one a horse chestnut and one a magnolia. It was enclosed by an iron fence, one of the kind despised and pulled down in the nineties, and now being eagerly sought and replaced in doing over old houses.
Home of Judge Henry Henley ChapmanHome of Judge Henry Henley Chapman
There is a delicious story of how, in the long ago, when all five of the daughters were still at home, a wandering cow got in at the gate, and at four o'clock in the morning (I hope it was the summer time) Aunt Peggy Davidson roused all the girls to go out and get the beast out of thegarden. An old colored man was passing, delivering milk, and was heard to exclaim, "Good Gawd, Mis' Chapman's yard is full of ghoses!"
Immediately across from this house stood, and still stands, the old Berry house. It, too, shows how it was hoisted above the street when its level was changed. It was built by Philip Taylor Berry in the early 1800's and no other family had ever lived there until his last daughters died, ripe in years.
There were four of them, all old maids (Georgetown had five or six houses of four old maids in my childhood). These were in two sets, but the two older ones far outlived the two younger, who were always very retiring and delicate. When the last two were up in their nineties, being bed-ridden, one on one floor, the other on another, each with a nurse, they used to send messages to each other and exchange the novels which they read over and over again. At last, one night in the winter, the old house caught on fire and when the firemen got there it was so far under way that both old ladies had to be carried down ladders to the street, quite a perilous trip, which they both survived, however, and lived for several years thereafter.
The two older sisters were descendants of John Stoddert Haw; the two younger, of Samuel McKenney and thereby, of course, of Henry Foxall. One of them, I heard all of my childhood was very, very pretty, but, although they were both great friends of my mother, I never saw her face, for she never went out of doors without a heavy, blue barège veil. It is said her eyes were weak but there was, too, a romantic story of her having been "disappointed in love," as they said in those days.
Old McKenney HouseOld McKenney House
A little farther west on Dumbarton Avenue on the north side of the street, above its stone wall topped with a white picket fence, is the old McKenney house. This is the house that Henry Foxall gave to his only daughter, Mary Ann, when she became the bride of Samuel McKenney in 1800. Until a few years ago, there lived here her granddaughter, Mrs. McCartney and her children and grandchildren, the fifth generation to live in the old house.
It was such a dear, sweet old house and the garden, too. At the marriage of the daughter of Mrs. McCartney, the lace wedding veil was the same that was worn long ago by Mary Ann Foxall, whose namesake she was.
The old house was full of treasures and curios, an exquisite little white marble clock which once upon a time ticked off the hours for Marie Antoinette, that beautiful and tragic queen. It was presented to Henry Foxall by his friend and partner, Robert Morris, who had gotten it from Gouveneur Morris, he having bought it in Paris. Also there was lots of lovely old Spode china, and there is a story told of how Aunt Montie was found one day feeding the cats from the priceless dishes. When reprimanded, she explained she didn't want to use any of the "nice new china."
In 1840 a maiden lady from Philadelphia came one day to have lunch, or midday dinner as I imagine it was in those days, and was planning to take the stage-coach for her return journey soon after the meal. She had been telling stories to the children and when the time for her departure neared, little Henrietta McKenney burst into tears; she didn't want such a delightful story-teller to go.Mrs. McKenney urged her to stay, so she agreed to stay for a day or two, at the end of that time, for a week or so. The time passed and she stayed on. Her visit lasted forty years, and was ended only by her call to another world. She had asked soon after her settlement into the home life for some duties so she took over the charge of the linen of the household and the making of the desserts. She had one fetich, the candles must be extinguished at ten o'clock. She had her way, even if guests were present—they were put out. She went to bed—they were relit. One night after her death, a young son of the house, about thirteen or so, was put to sleep in her room; at ten o'clock the candle just went out. Every night it happened; they hunted for drafts. No drafts could be located; the candles just always ceased to burn when the clocks reached the hour of ten.
In this block about 1820 Mrs. Mary Billings, an Englishwoman, opened a school where she started to teach both colored and white children together, but a great deal of prejudice arising on the subject, she devoted herself entirely to the colored race and continued to do so for a number of years until she moved over to the city. Later, Mr. Street's school for boys stood here. It was just opposite the old McKenney house with a yard running down almost to High Street.
The Methodist Episcopal Church on this block was formerly located on Montgomery (28th) Street. It had its beginning there in 1800. The church on the present site, which has a modern façade, was used as a Federal hospital during the Civil War, Dr. Peter being in charge of it as well as the Seminary.
St. John's ChurchSt. John's Church
On the other side of High Street stands St. John's Episcopal Church, the lot for which was given in 1796 by the Deakins' family. Reverend Walter Addison of Prince Georges County, Maryland, had visited George Town in 1794 and 1795 and held occasional services, so a movement was started to build a church. Among the subscribers were Thomas Jefferson and Dr. Balch. The first rector was Reverend Mr. Sayrs of Port Tobacco in 1804. Five years later he died and was immortalized in an epitaph in the church, written by Francis Scott Key:
JOB: J. SAYRSHU: EELRECTOR PRIMUSHIC(QUO CHRISTI SERVUS FIDELITES MINUS TRAVIT)SEP: JAOOB: 6 JAN. A. D. MDCCIXAET XXXVHERE ONCE STOOD FORTH A MAN, WHO FROM THE WORLDTHOUGH BRIGHT ITS ASPECT TO THE YOUTHFUL EYE,TURNED WITH AFFECTION ARDENT TO HIS GOD,AND LIV'D AND DIED AN HUMBLE MINISTEROF HIS BENIGNANT PURPOSES TO MAN.HERE LIES HE NOW—YET GRIEVE NOT THEN FOR HIMREADER! HE TRUSTED IN THAT LOVE WHERE NONEHAVE VAINLY TRUSTED—RATHER LETHIS MARBLE SPEAK TO THEE, AND SHOULDST THOU FEEL,THE RISING OF A NEW AND SOLEMN THOUGHTWAK'D BY THIS SACRED PLACE AND SAD MEMORIALO LISTEN TO ITS IMPULSE! 'TIS DIVINE—AND IT SHALL GUIDE THEE TO A LIFE OF JOY,A DEATH OF HOPE AND ENDLESS BLISS THEREAFTER.
JOB: J. SAYRSHU: EELRECTOR PRIMUSHIC(QUO CHRISTI SERVUS FIDELITES MINUS TRAVIT)SEP: JAOOB: 6 JAN. A. D. MDCCIXAET XXXV
HERE ONCE STOOD FORTH A MAN, WHO FROM THE WORLDTHOUGH BRIGHT ITS ASPECT TO THE YOUTHFUL EYE,TURNED WITH AFFECTION ARDENT TO HIS GOD,AND LIV'D AND DIED AN HUMBLE MINISTEROF HIS BENIGNANT PURPOSES TO MAN.HERE LIES HE NOW—YET GRIEVE NOT THEN FOR HIMREADER! HE TRUSTED IN THAT LOVE WHERE NONEHAVE VAINLY TRUSTED—RATHER LETHIS MARBLE SPEAK TO THEE, AND SHOULDST THOU FEEL,THE RISING OF A NEW AND SOLEMN THOUGHTWAK'D BY THIS SACRED PLACE AND SAD MEMORIALO LISTEN TO ITS IMPULSE! 'TIS DIVINE—AND IT SHALL GUIDE THEE TO A LIFE OF JOY,A DEATH OF HOPE AND ENDLESS BLISS THEREAFTER.
In 1807 the vestry included Charles Worthington, Washington Bowie, Thomas Corcoran, John Mason, Thomas Plater, Benjamin Mackall, Philip Barton Key, and William Stewart. A little later, in 1811, an old writer says: "At that time the church was thronged to an over flow with all who were most elevated in station and in wealth from the Capital; the pews in the gallery were rented at high rates and to persons of great respectability. The street before the church was filled with glittering vehicles and liveried servants."
In 1831 the vestry failed to elect a rector as successor to Reverend Mr. James. For seven years, the church was closed, worse than closed, for it fell into disrepair to such an extent that the birds and the bats made their nests in it, so that it was called "The Swallow Barn." A sculptor rented it for his studio, which scandalized many of its old-time worshippers who hated to think of the statues of heathen gods and goddesses in the temple of the Lord. At last, in 1838, a vestry was elected, and from that time, St. John's has always flourished.
In its chancel are paintings of the four evangelists done by the Reverend Mr. Oertel. He was also a wood-carver and a musician, and was from Nuremberg in Germany which, I suppose, explains why he was always called Master by his wife. They lived for a good while on Gay (N) Street. Mr. Corcoran bought several of his pictures for his gallery. His best known work was called "Rock of Ages," and represented a female figure with long hair and floating white garments clinging to an enormous cross. This picture was often used on Easter cards.
Several years ago a large boulder was placed on the bank of the churchyard, bearing this inscription:
COLONEL NINIAN BEALLBORN SCOTLAND 1625 DIED MARYLAND 1717PATENTEE OF ROCK OF DUMBARTONMEMBER OF THE HOUSE OF BURGESSESCOMMANDER IN CHIEF OF PROVINCIAL FORCESOF MARYLANDIN GRATEFUL RECOGNITION OF HIS SERVICES"UPON ALL INCURSIONS AND DISTURBANCESOF NEIGHBORING INDIANS"THE MARYLAND ASSEMBLY OF 1699 PASSED"AN ACT OF GRATUITY"THIS MEMORIAL ERECTED BY THE SOCIETY OFCOLONIAL WARS IN THE DISTRICTOF COLUMBIA, 1910
Just behind the church and adjoining it on little Potomac Street, is a house where, fifty years ago, used to live two old maid sisters who were absolute hermits. Their food was drawn up in a basket which they let down to an old family retainer containing the money with which to do their purchasing. Whenever the organ was played in St. John's, they used to take a hammer and beat upon the wall as long as the music continued.
The large yellow house at the southwest corner of Market (33rd) and Second (O) Streets is where Thomas E. Waggaman lived in the nineties. He built an addition on the west as an art gallery for his collection of pictures. It is now a separate house. Here, some years ago, lived Jouett Shouse at the time he formed his Liberty League. Recently, Colonel and Mrs. Alf Heiberg made it theirhome. They placed an eagle over the door and called it "Federal House."
Right across the street stood a dear old house some years ago. It was white, with double piazzas all the way across the front. The yard was enclosed by a paling fence and from the gate a double border of box led to the door. It was the home of Dr. Hezekiah Magruder.
About 1833 the family of Admiral James Hogan Sands lived there. William Franklin Sands, author ofUndiplomatic Memorieswas one of his sons. The old house was torn down about 1890.
Across the street, at number 3318, is the home of Mr. and Mrs. David E. Finley. He is the Director of the National Gallery of Art.
Number 3322 is the interesting old house where, in the forties and fifties lived Baron Bodisco, Minister from Russia to the United States. He had a very romantic marriage of which I shall tell later. Just before the marriage he purchased this house from Sally Van Devanter, who had inherited it in 1840 from her husband, Christopher Van Devanter, apparently, the builder of the house. Baron Bodisco, the same day he bought it, gave it to his fiancée, Harriet Beall Williams. Whether it was a wedding gift or whether, as a foreign envoy, he could not hold property, I do not know. She kept the property for twenty years until her remarriage to Captain Douglas Scott, when it was bought by Abraham H. Herr. During the Civil War, it was headquarters for the officers of the Second U. S. Regiment, whose enlisted men were quartered in Forrest Hall.
Bodisco HouseBodisco House
But to return to the period when it was owned and occupied by the Van Devanter family. During these years, they apparently had a most interesting guest, Mrs. Henry Lee, the widow of "Light Horse Harry," and the mother of Robert E. Lee. In Dr. Douglas Freeman's bookR. E. Lee, he quotes two letters from Mrs. Lee written not long before her death from "Georgetown." She did not specify where she was, but Mrs. Beverley Kennon, many years afterwards, said that this was the house in which she resided.
Also, the Van Devanter family, a few years ago, found among old books two books with inscriptions of names of the Lee family, evidently left there during this time.
Here, at a ball one night, a young man who was making his entrance into Washington society under the care of a senator had the following experience. (The account is taken fromHarper's Magazine):
This was my first entrance into fashionable life at one of Madame Bodisco's birthnight balls. I was under the care of Senator ——. As we entered the house, two tall specimens of humanity, dressed very much like militia generals, in scarlet coats trimmed with gold lace and white trousers, met us at the door. Thinking them distinguished people, I bowed low and solemnly. They stared and bowed. "Go on," said the Senator, "don't be so polite to those fellows, they are servants; give them your cloak." I hurried in pulling off my cloak as I went. Just within the first door of the drawing room stood a fat, oily little gentleman, bowing also, but not so magnificently gotten up as my first acquaintances. Certain of my game now, I, in superb style, threw over him my cloak and hurried on. Senator —— pulled me back, and to the astonished little fellow now struggling from under my broadcloth, I was presented. I had nearly smothered the Russian Minister who, however, laughed merrily at the mistake. He hardly knew what I would accomplish next,and left me as soon as he possibly could, to my fate. I wandered about rather disconsolate. The lights, music, dancing, fun and laughter, were all novelties and charming for a while, but I knew no one after an hour's looking on, hunted up the Senator and begged him to introduce me to some of the young ladies. He hesitated a moment, and then consented, and I was led up to and presented to a magnificent creature I had long looked upon with silent admiration. Miss Gennie Williams, who was seated in an easy, nonchalant manner, conversing with a circle of gentlemen, and favored me with a gracious nod. As I stood wondering whether this was the end of my introduction, a mustached dandy came between us and said, "Miss Williams, permit me to relate the joke of the season." To my horror he began the story of the cloak. My first impulse was to knock him down, my second to run away; on my third I acted. Interrupting the recital I said: "Begging your pardon, sir, but Miss Williams, I am the only person who can do justice to that joke," and continuing, I related it without in any way sparing myself. She laughed heartily, as did the circle, and rising from her chair, took my arm, saying kindly that I must be cared for or I would murder some one. With a grace and kindness I shall never forget, she placed me at my ease.
This was my first entrance into fashionable life at one of Madame Bodisco's birthnight balls. I was under the care of Senator ——. As we entered the house, two tall specimens of humanity, dressed very much like militia generals, in scarlet coats trimmed with gold lace and white trousers, met us at the door. Thinking them distinguished people, I bowed low and solemnly. They stared and bowed. "Go on," said the Senator, "don't be so polite to those fellows, they are servants; give them your cloak." I hurried in pulling off my cloak as I went. Just within the first door of the drawing room stood a fat, oily little gentleman, bowing also, but not so magnificently gotten up as my first acquaintances. Certain of my game now, I, in superb style, threw over him my cloak and hurried on. Senator —— pulled me back, and to the astonished little fellow now struggling from under my broadcloth, I was presented. I had nearly smothered the Russian Minister who, however, laughed merrily at the mistake. He hardly knew what I would accomplish next,and left me as soon as he possibly could, to my fate. I wandered about rather disconsolate. The lights, music, dancing, fun and laughter, were all novelties and charming for a while, but I knew no one after an hour's looking on, hunted up the Senator and begged him to introduce me to some of the young ladies. He hesitated a moment, and then consented, and I was led up to and presented to a magnificent creature I had long looked upon with silent admiration. Miss Gennie Williams, who was seated in an easy, nonchalant manner, conversing with a circle of gentlemen, and favored me with a gracious nod. As I stood wondering whether this was the end of my introduction, a mustached dandy came between us and said, "Miss Williams, permit me to relate the joke of the season." To my horror he began the story of the cloak. My first impulse was to knock him down, my second to run away; on my third I acted. Interrupting the recital I said: "Begging your pardon, sir, but Miss Williams, I am the only person who can do justice to that joke," and continuing, I related it without in any way sparing myself. She laughed heartily, as did the circle, and rising from her chair, took my arm, saying kindly that I must be cared for or I would murder some one. With a grace and kindness I shall never forget, she placed me at my ease.
Next door to this house, at one time, lived Hamilton Bronaugh.
Just across the street, the big red brick Victorian house is where James Roosevelt and his family were living in his father's first administration.
Around the corner on Frederick (34th) Street, the house which has a walled garden on the corner was the home of John G. Winant, when he was here before going as Ambassador to the Court of St. James.
A block or two north of here, at 1524 Market (33rd) Street, was the old Yellow Tavern, much used by those going to and fro to Rockville and Frederick Town.
On Fourth Street (Volta Place), where the playground is now, was where the old Presbyterian burying-ground used to be, which was the principal graveyard until Oak Hill was given to the town in 1849. Among the tombstones moved from there, when it was given up, were those of James Gillespie, member of Congress from North Carolina, who was the first member of that body to die after the removal of the seat of government, and John Barnes, who had been collector of the port, and who, in his will, left money for a poorhouse for Georgetown. He died in 1826 at the age of ninety-six.
On Sixth Street (Dent Place), between Market (33rd) and Frederick (34th) Streets, was the house which Francis Deakins sold on February 8, 1800 to Old Yarrow, as he was called, one of the most mysterious and interesting characters of the early days. It is not known whether he was an East Indian or a Guinea negro, but he was a Mohammedan. He conducted a trade in hacking with a small cart, and his ambition in life was to own a hundred dollars. Twice he saved it and each time ill fortune overtook him. The first time he gave it to an old groceryman he knew to keep for him. The old man died suddenly and Yarrow had nothing to prove that he had had his money. So the next time he picked a young man to keep it for him. Then this one absconded. Some of the gentlemen of the town became so interested that they took up a collection and started an account for him in the Bank of Columbia. He must have been quite a figure in his day, for his portrait was painted by James Alexander Simpson, and is now owned by Mr. E. M. Talcott, who inherited it from Normanstone.
Quite a number of attractive houses have been built in this neighborhood in the last few years and a good many "done over," all of them, fortunately, in the style suitable for Georgetown.
They are very largely owned and occupied by people connected with the Government, many of them in the State Department. In one of these houses, a few years ago, lived the writer, Michael Strange, who had been the wife of John Barrymore.
OON the southeast corner of Third (P) Street and Frederick (34th) Street, the attractive, low, white frame house is where Doris Fleeson lives, who writes such interesting articles forThe Evening Star.
ON the southeast corner of Third (P) Street and Frederick (34th) Street, the attractive, low, white frame house is where Doris Fleeson lives, who writes such interesting articles forThe Evening Star.
At 3327 is a fine tall old brick house painted yellow, which has for many years, until very recently, been the home of Hon. and Mrs. Balthasar Meyer. On the second story it has a lovely long music room used for dancing and by Sylvia Meyer, their daughter, the talented harpist of the National Symphony Orchestra.
Some of the Key family lived here years ago, I suppose, of course, relatives or descendants of those two famous lawyers here, Philip Barton Key and his nephew, Francis Scott Key. And nearby lived anotherrealMarylander named Mary Ritchie.
And speaking of names, the strangest woman's name turned up in the title of 3321, which in 1818 was owned by Harry McCleery. He had five daughters and in his will left $3,000.00 to each of four of them; among these, one named Zerniah. To Clarissa, the fifth, he left the house he lived in (this house) and the stone houses on the corner adjoining, with all thereto belonging to be held in trust for her by her two brothers. I wonder if Clarissa was an invalid or if it was the law that, at that time, a woman could not hold property!
This house later on in the eighties and for twenty years or more was the home of the Humes. Mr. Thomas L. Hume and his wife, Annie Graham Pickrell left a large family of children when they died early.
Mr. Hume also owned a place a little way out of town. One day when General Grant, who was a friend of his, was there Mr. Hume said he couldn't think of a name for the place. General Grant looked around and noticing the walnut trees said, "Why not turn walnut around and call it "Tunlaw"?" And so Tunlaw Road came into being, back behind Mt. Alto Hospital.
Just to the east of 3321 P Street was the old Lutheran burying-ground. About the time of the Civil War it seems to have been abandoned and the records lost. And near here stands the Lutheran Church, the fourth building on this site, for this church dates back to 1769, when it was a little log building. According to tradition, Dr. Stephen Bloomer Balch preached his first sermon here when he came to be Pastor of the Presbyterians. A prized possession of this church is a very old German Bible printed in Tübingen in 1730. Another treasured possession is the bell, over a hundred years old, which, at one time, was purchased by a congregation in West Virginia, but after twenty-five years, was reclaimed and brought back by a faithful church Councilman and housed under a small stone structure of its own. It is believed to have been cast in Europe.
Crossing High Street (Wisconsin Avenue) and cutting down to Beall (O) Street, one comes to what used to be Hazel's stable—his initials, "W. C. H." are in the bricks up in the peak at the top of the building. Here the doctors kept their carriages, here "hacks" were hired whenneeded for parties or funerals, and here was kept for a month or so every fall and spring my little bay mare,Lady Leeton, and the red-wheeled runabout which was brought in from Hayes for my use.
I can see Mr. Hazel now in his buggy, he weighed about three hundred pounds and his side of the buggy almost touched the ground as he drove about town.
At 3131, at the home of his daughter, is where General Adolphus Greeley was living several years ago when a very interesting event took place one spring afternoon, in 1935. I was walking down 31st Street when I heard the strains of "The Star-Spangled Banner." I wondered if I was hearing a radio but when I reached the corner of O Street I noticed a policeman and an Army sergeant chatting in the middle of the street and coming up O Street was Justice of the Supreme Court, Owen J. Roberts, bareheaded, with a lady, to whom he said, "They are probably saying, 'Some old geezer named Greeley'!" So I glanced west down O Street and there, drawn up along the southern sidewalk, was a company of U. S. Cavalry, red and white guidon of Company F from Fort Myer. Then I realized that it was the day of days for General Greeley. At last, on his ninety-first birthday, he was being decorated with the Congressional Medal of Honor. It had been many a year since his fateful expedition to the Arctic in search for the North Pole.
Just across the street from here now lives Senator Henry Cabot Lodge and a little farther on, the old house up on a low terrace is where the Lancastrian School was opened in November 1811 under Robert Ould. In a few weeks there were 340 boys and girls under tuition, and in1812 an appropriation was asked for an addition to accommodate 250 more scholars.