Christ ChurchChrist Church
The Lancastrian School was sustained by private contributions and municipal aid for thirty-two years. The name came from Joseph Lancaster, a Quaker, who started this system in England of coeducational schools, free to those who could not pay. Lancaster had a school of one thousand pupils in Southwark, but disagreements arising with some of the authorities, he emigrated to America in 1818. He died in New York in 1838.
About 1840, Samuel McKenney, whose house adjoined this property on the south, bought it and gave it to his daughter who had gone to southern Maryland to live, and so she came back to Georgetown. Her descendants, the Osbournes, lived there until just a few years ago when the "cult" for old houses in Georgetown began. When a garden was made there recently, some of the old foundations of the schoolroom were uncovered.
Almost next door is the Linthicum Institute, which still conducts its night school for white boys, and above it is the hall where the old Georgetown Assemblies are still held. Here also Mrs. Shippen has her Dancing Classes, and here now my grandchildren are learning where I had my first lessons in the same art. The old hall looks just as it did in my day.
Then at 3018 is Christ Church Rectory, where I happened to be born; it was not the rectory then.
Christ Church, as you recall, was founded in 1817 in Thomas Corcoran's house. The illustration shows the first church building of the three which have stood on this spot. It was begun May 6, 1818, and the first service heldat sunrise on Christmas Day that same year, the rector being the Reverend Ruel Keith, who was Professor of Theology at the College of William and Mary, and later, in 1823, with Dr. Wilmer, founder of the Theological Seminary, near Alexandria.
Among the founders of Christ Church were Thomas Corcoran, William Morton, Clement Smith, Francis Scott Key, John Stoddert Haw, John Myers, Ulysses Ward, James A. Magruder, Thomas Henderson, and John Pickrell. The present building of Christ Church was erected about 1885. The windows which were made especially for it in Munich, Germany, are very beautiful. The big one in the north end was put there by W. W. Corcoran in memory of his father, Thomas Corcoran.
I have heard from the daughter of one of the belles of the fifties, whose family were Christ Church people, that in those days the beaux might join a lady after church and escort her home, but under no circumstances did they entertain callers on Sunday. All of the food for Sunday use was prepared on Saturday.
It was during the fifties that Dr. William Norwood was the rector of Christ Church. He was a Virginian and very outspoken in the expression of his political views in that day of heated opinions. So violent was the feeling that, although he had a brilliant mind and a saintly character, he was obliged to resign. He returned to his native State and was for many years the revered rector of St. Paul's, Richmond. I remember hearing that as a young man he had a classmate at college, Clement Moore, who one night came into his room, saying, "Norwood, I'd like to read you something I've written to see what you think of it." He sat down and read to him "The Night Before Christmas,"that beloved old poem without which Christmas hardly seems like Christmas to me, even now.
Dr. Norwood was followed several years later by Reverend Albert Rhett Stuart, under whose leadership the present church was built. I remember the big basket which was carried around by a fine-looking, tall colored woman with articles for sale for the benefit of the Ladies' Aid Society of Christ Church.
The interesting white house over on the northeast corner was at one time the home of the Godeys, then of the Curtis family. When they lived there, "music filled the air," for a son and a chum of his used to sit out on the long, side gallery and play for hours on the violin and 'cello. It was for several years the home of Justice and Mrs. Owen J. Roberts.
Only two houses on this block are of any age. The little white cottage near the corner of Washington (30th) Street was the home of three Miss Tenneys and their sister, Mrs. Brown, who had a school for small boys and girls. Then the garden ran to the corner. The father of these ladies and of William H. Tenney had come to Georgetown from Newburyport, Massachusetts, in the early part of 1800.
Just across from it, the large yellow mansion was the home of Commodore Cassin, built by him, I think, in the early 1800's. In 1893 Mr. and Mrs. Beverley Randolph Mason, of Virginia, opened here their school, Gunston Hall, named, of course, for Mr. Mason's ancestral home, which continued in Washington as a flourishing boarding school for girls for fifty years. After that, this building housed the Epiphany School, an Episcopal institution.
The property along 30th Street here was all owned at one time by the Matthews family. Henry Cooksey Matthews came to Georgetown some years before 1820. He had been born in 1797 on the farm near Dentsville, in Charles County, Maryland, where his forbears had lived for four generations. He married his cousin, Lucinda Stoddert Haw, whose home, you remember, was on Gay (N) Street, and they built the large house on the southeast corner of Washington (30th) and West (P) Streets.
Mr. Matthews and his wife were devoted members of Christ Church and named their son for one of its rectors, the Reverend Charles McIlvaine, who later became Bishop of Ohio. Mr. Matthews used to play the flute in the orchestra in Christ Church.
Mr. Charles M. Matthews also married his cousin, who was a daughter of Thomas Corcoran, junior, and niece of W. W. Corcoran. Mr. Matthews, until his death, managed the estate of Mr. Corcoran. He built his home on the southern part of his father's lot at the northeast corner of Washington (30th) and Beall (O) Streets.
Back in the eighties Miss Charlotte and Miss Margaret Lee came from Virginia and opened The West Washington School for Girls, sponsored by several of the gentlemen of Georgetown, in the old home of Henry C. Matthews. There, in the last year of its existence, I learned the beginnings of the three R's.
Nearby, at number 3014 P Street, in the fifties and sixties, William R. Abbott conducted a well-known school for boys. At that time it was only a one-story building. Mr. Abbott was the son of John Abbott, whose home was on Bridge (M) Street. The Abbotts lived in the house onthe west next door to the school. In later years it was occupied by the Lyons, Hartleys, and Parris families.
In one of these houses was the school for boys founded by Dr. David Wiley and continued for twenty more years by Dr. James McVean.
There is a fine row of houses just beyond here where have lived, at various times, the Magruders, the Kenyons, the Yarnalls, and, long ago, in the early 1800's, Colonel Fowler, who came from Baltimore and whose wife was a sister of Dr. Riley's wife, made his home at number 3030 West (P) Street.
For many years this house was used as the rectory of Christ Church. There lived Dr. Norwood and his large family of daughters, all of whom left their impression on the City of Richmond in after years. Also, Dr. Walter Williams, and Dr. Albert Rhett Stuart, of South Carolina, who was for twenty-five years rector of Christ Church.
The end house was the Morton's home for a great many years. Four unmarried sisters lived there long, long after their parents had gone. But parental influence was strong in those days, for one of them in her late seventies was still "engaged" to the love of her youth, disapproved of by her father. Once a week she met him and had lunch with him down town. He came sometimes to Sunday dinners, swathed in his long, black cape.
During the fall great droves of cattle and flocks of sheep from western Virginia were driven through the streets and gathered at Drovers' Rest, two miles west of town. Some days many thousands filled West (P) Street from morn to eve, and, occasionally, a wild steer ran amuck and then there was great excitement. Also, largeflocks of turkeys, hundreds of them, were driven up from lower Maryland and passed through the streets to pens on the outskirts of town, where one could go and pick out his own bird.
Across the street at number 3019 is the house Mr. Linthicum built in 1826. Thomas Corcoran, junior, made it his home from then until 1856, when it was bought by John T. Cochrane for his sister, Mrs. James A. Magruder, who brought up there her three nieces and one nephew. Two of the nieces, Miss Mary Zeller and Mrs. Whelan, lived on there all their lives. Miss Mary used to tell me many tales of old-time days and ways. The old house remained entirely unchanged until about twelve years ago, when it was bought and done over inside. It had a lovely stairway and dignified, square rooms.
The row of three quaint little brick houses here seem to be an unknown quantity to even some of the oldest inhabitants and nearest neighbors. In number 3021, long ago, lived Horatio Berry, the brother of Philip Taylor Berry. In number 3025, the quaint locks on the doors all have on them a small, round brass seal, bearing the coat-of-arms of Great Britain, the lion and the unicorn rampant, also the name "Carpenter & Co.", and in the cellar are crossbeams hewn by hand.
Next we come to a pair of cottages, changed from their pristine loveliness—now the "Mary Margaret Home," for old ladies. The one at 3033 P Street in my girlhood was the home of Mrs. James D. Patton, the former Jennie Coyle. She gave me piano lessons for four years, but she gave me much more! She formed a group of girls into a King's Daughters' Circle, "The Patient Workers," which met at her house on Saturday mornings when we sewedand made articles which we sold at a Fair in the Spring. The proceeds were divided between the Children's Country Home and the Children's Hospital. There is still a brass plate in the hospital bearing the name, "The Patient Workers" for a bed we named.
The two big houses on the northeast corner of West (P) Street and Congress (31st) Street were built by Joseph H. Libbey, a well-to-do lumber merchant. They continued to be in his family for a long time. The one on the east now is the Catholic Home for Aged Ladies. In front of it is the largest and most beautiful elm tree in Georgetown. The two houses at 1516 and 1518 Congress (31st) Street, Mr. Libbey built about 1850 as wedding gifts for his two daughters, Martha, Mrs. Benjamin Miller, becoming the owner of number 1516. It is still owned by her descendants. Number 1518 has changed hands several times. It was where Richard V. Oulahan, the well-known newspaper correspondent, lived until his death several years ago. At that time it was said of him: "He gathered news like a gentleman and wrote it like a scholar."
Back in the eighties, a party was given at number 1518 one night for the young niece of two maiden ladies whose home it then was. The guests were about sixteen and seventeen years old, and the boys had all just arrived at the age where their most treasured possessions were their brand new derby hats. When the party broke up and the guests trooped upstairs to get their wraps, the young gentlemen found, on entering their dressing room, that on one of the beds reposed the crowns of all their derbies, while on the other, neatly laid out, were all the brims. The culprit was never caught. Only the other day one ofthe long-ago guests was told by the offender that he had been the originator of the diabolic idea.
If you look west along the next block of West (P) Street, you notice how different are the north and south sides. Along the south side are houses of an absolutely different period. All those on the north side were built in the seventies or later, including the Presbyterian Church, except the one on the corner of Congress (31st) Street, which was the residence of General Otho Holland Williams, a Revolutionary officer, who was in the same company with General Lingan. His house has, of course, been completely changed and made into two houses. It was never beautiful, but it was a dignified old mansion, with high steps leading up to a quaint doorway.
Across Congress (31st) Street, at number 3108 West (P) Street, the house with the high steps going up sideways was built by Judge Morsell about 1800. For a while, the Barnards lived there. Then the Marquis de Podestad, Minister from Spain to this country, made it his residence. After the Civil War, General George C. Thomas resided there. Next door is where the Shoemakers have lived for many years.
The house with the nice, old hipped roof was at one time owned by a Captain Brown. In the eighties and nineties the Misses Dorsey of Virginia had here a school for girls called "Olney Institute." Afterwards, Reverend Parke P. Flournoy, once a chaplain in the Confederate Army, lived here up into his nineties with his family.
Still a little farther on, and incorporated with the old Tenney house, now owned by Mrs. Stephen Bonsal, is where Miss Jennie Gardiner had a school for little children about the same time as the Dorseys' school. For some time before the Civil War it was the home of the Reverend Mr. Simpson, whose wife was Miss Stephenson from near Winchester. Her father, whose home was Kenilworth, near there, made her a present of the house. Following the Civil War, it was for a long time the home of William H. Tenney, who had a prosperous flour mill.
Just across the street from it, the imposing looking yellow house with the mansard roof is the one that Elinor Glyn bought and "did over," and then never lived in, as she decided to go back to England to her mother, who was in delicate health. Later it was the residence of Mrs. Isabella Greenway, Representative in Congress from Arizona.
A block from here just above Q Street on what is now dignified by the name of 32nd, but will always remain to old Georgetonians, Valley Street, lived a very interesting character, still remembered by some people in Georgetown as "The crazy man of Valley Street."
Among other shabby houses, one which was quite different in appearance and stood a little back from the street, with a tree in its tiny patch of a yard, was where he lived. It looked as if it had a story—and it had. It was told me not long ago by an old friend. I call him a friend, for whenever I went to the institution where he was a doorkeeper, I went back in memory to the years when he was our postman. In those days your postman was your friend. You thought over what your Christmas gift to him would be as much as a member of your family. Not like it is nowadays, when he drops your letters through a slit in the door. You don't know his name, youdon't know what he looks like, you don't even know whether he is white or colored.
This is the story of "the crazy man of Valley Street." During the Civil War, Captain Chandler was in command of a United States vessel cruising in the Chesapeake Bay searching ships carrying contraband. He was accused of making a traitorous remark and dismissed from the service. His family was living at the Union Hotel, but they left and went to New York to live. He took his savings and built for himself the little house on Valley Street. Its interior was made to resemble exactly the cabin of a ship.
My friend told me that his first encounter with the old gentleman was one Monday morning about nine-thirty when, having been changed to this new route, he stopped to open the gate to deliver a letter. It was locked. He knocked. At last a window was thrown up and the old man's head emerged. He said the captain looked very much like the pictures of General Robert E. Lee.
Seeing it was the postman with a letter, he said he would open the gate, so he pulled a rope—and presto! open it flew. He said he never opened it until ten o'clock in the morning and wanted to know if his mail could be delivered after that, which the carrier obligingly offered to do, by changing his route somewhat.
After that, for years, Mr. Postman was a friend to the old man, though he never really entered the house. Each month a check for twenty dollars would come from a nephew in Chicago, which the postman would take to Mr. Berry with a note from the captain, asking to have it cashed, and specifying the number of dollar bills, fifty-cent pieces, quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies. A little colored boy who lived nearby was commissioned occasionally to purchase necessary food, but the old man himself never went out except after dark.
Finally, one day when the little boy came to do the errands, he could get no answer to his knock, so he got a man to lift him up where he could peer over the high board fence at the side and look into an open window. Through it he saw the old gentleman, sprawled out in a big chair, immovable. They broke into the house and found that he was paralyzed. He could not speak, but shook his head when they said they wanted to call help from the police. He was laid on a mattress on the floor, and before long, all his troubles were over.
His nephew came from Chicago, bought a lot in Rock Creek Cemetery and had the old gentleman decently buried. But not long after, his son in New York, reading of it in the paper, came down and had his father reinterred in the family lot in Oak Hill. So, in death, the old gentleman was accorded the honor of two funerals.
Washington BowieCourtesy Frick Art Reference Library.Washington Bowie
CCOMING east from Valley (32nd) Street is the lovely old house which the Seviers bought in 1890. It has never had a name. It was built by Washington Bowie, another of the shipping barons. His wife was Margaret Johns before becoming Mrs. Bowie. This whole block was his estate and was entered in his day through the double iron gates on West (P) Street. The carriages passed up and around a circle of box to the path, bordered with box leading to the porch with its lovely doorway. The doors opening into the hall that runs right through are of solid mahogany with big old brass locks. In the dining room is an especially beautiful white wood mantel, carved with a scene of sheep and shepherds. The tradition is that L'Enfant planned the garden, and also left his spectacles lying on the piano.
COMING east from Valley (32nd) Street is the lovely old house which the Seviers bought in 1890. It has never had a name. It was built by Washington Bowie, another of the shipping barons. His wife was Margaret Johns before becoming Mrs. Bowie. This whole block was his estate and was entered in his day through the double iron gates on West (P) Street. The carriages passed up and around a circle of box to the path, bordered with box leading to the porch with its lovely doorway. The doors opening into the hall that runs right through are of solid mahogany with big old brass locks. In the dining room is an especially beautiful white wood mantel, carved with a scene of sheep and shepherds. The tradition is that L'Enfant planned the garden, and also left his spectacles lying on the piano.
The Sevier House (Built by Washington Bowie)The Sevier House (Built by Washington Bowie)
In 1805 the place was bought by William Nicolls of Maryland, whose wife was Margaret Smith, a descendant of Captain John Smith. They had two daughters, Roberta, who married William Frederick Hanewinckel of Richmond, and Jennie, who married Colonel Hollingsworth. The Hanewinckels used to come back to the old home sometimes in the summer, even to the grandchildren, and the descendants still love the old place and consider it their ancestral home, for they had it longer than any other family. Colonel Hollingsworth was the superintendent of Mount Vernon before Colonel Dodge. I remember Colonel Hollingsworth well, a tall, fine-looking old gentleman, with a long, white beard. Of course, in those days we went to Mount Vernon by way of the river, on the steamerW. W. Corcoran. It is still, I think, by far the most pleasant way to approach the dignified old mansion, and Captain Hollingsworth would often be on the boat and talk with us. I've never forgotten the dear old-fashioned nosegay he picked and gave me from Mrs. Washington's garden. Mrs. Hollingsworth was a tiny little old lady. I can see her now with her snow-white hair and her big, black bonnet. Poor soul, it was a terrible trial to her when the place had to be sold after her husband's death.
It was put up for auction in 1890, and Mr. and Mrs. John Sevier, who happened to be visiting Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dodge in Georgetown at that time, though they spent a great deal of their time in Paris, heard of the sale and bought the house on the spot. Mr. Sevier was a descendant of the famous Tennesseean of that same name. Later they added the wings extending far out on each side, which are really two charming little houses. The old garden is still full of wonderful box, and besides, there are lots and lots of lovely roses, the pride of their stately mistress.
Mrs. Sevier told me of being at a spa in Germany one summer when she was young, with Mr. Sevier. When they asked for the first floor apartment instead of theirs on the second, they were told by the proprietor that it was engaged for "some Englishman; he did not know whom." It turned out to be the then Prince of Wales, Edward VII. The prince, on seeing her, asked to be presented. She wasvery beautiful then, tall and fair. She met him three times, in the garden or at the spring. When he was leaving, he asked to say good-bye. She, unthinkingly, stood on the step above him, (a terriblefaux pas, she learned afterwards), gave him some roses, and he presented her with a bouquet surrounded by lace paper; it was the custom, always, on leaving a place.
When my father built his house in 1884 on the southwest corner of Stoddert (Q) Street and Congress (31st) Street, it was in part of the orchard of the old Bowie place. Some of the pear trees were still there. Today there are six houses on the lot where his house stood with its big gables and its many porches, surrounded by a fine lawn in which he took great pride. This house caused a good deal of comment at the time of its building from the fact that it had a bathroom on every floor, one being, of course, a "powder room." But to have a bathroom in the basement for the servants in those days was unheard of. It was just as good as the others, a tin-lined tub, of course, would be horrible to the present generation!
The George T. Dunlop HouseCourtesy Bolling-Fowler.The George T. Dunlop House
The house was always brimming over with people, young and old, for occasions both grave and gay. One very grave one happened about two years after we moved there, and another "first" in Georgetown was there—the first trained nurse in Georgetown. Early in the month of May diphtheria seized the eldest daughter, then about fifteen. Two days later, another succumbed, a beautiful little girl of five. There was no anti-toxin in those days. In four days little Eleanor Hope was dead. Two days later a little cousin visiting there, was taken, and two days later still, the three remaining well children were sent out one afternoon for a drive with Grandpa in the Dayton-wagon, an old-time version of the present-day station wagon. We thought it was kind of strange to go to drive in the rain, but it wasn't really raining hard, so we stopped where the Cathedral Close is now and picked bluets and violets. When we got home we were told we had a new little brother! Wildly excited, we rushed upstairs and assaulted the door of mother's room. It was opened by old Aunt Catherine, the colored mid-wife, who had been told not to admit anyone, but mother called us and in we went. An hour or so later I was the fourth victim of diphtheria! I still have vivid memories of it all, and of Miss Freese, the trained nurse.
She wore a uniform of blue and white striped cotton, long to the floor, but, strange to say, her hair was short, unusual for those days. I can still see the animals she cut out of paper—elephants, horses, and cows. Dear Aunt Ellen and Auntie helped with the nursing, and father even stayed home some days to help!
These were some of the grave days, now to come to the gay. I remember the big reception for father's and mother's silver wedding anniversary, when I and my two chums, I in red, one in white, and one in a blue dress, stood back behind this fine couple, thinking we were so wonderful! My best friend lived right across the street, and we rigged up a line from my window to hers on which we sent little notes by pulling the line around.
My two elder sisters had many beaux, and I mean, "many." I can remember when some times twenty young gentlemen came to call on Sunday evening. Of course, there were not many "dates" in those days, unless to go to the theatre or a party of some kind, dancing or euchre.
One Sunday night when the butler was off duty, my brother, home from Princeton, answered the door bell. A gentleman entered, asking if the ladies were at home; he handed his silk hat to John, then his cane, then his coat, and then, he said "Now, announce me!" He was announced! As he sat on the sofa by my cousin, a visitor from Kentucky, a real Kentucky belle, a horrified expression came over his face. She, thinking he had been attacked by the new disease, appendicitis, which she had heard was very painful, asked what was the matter, to which he replied, "I have just discovered I have on blue trousers instead of black!" He was in his full-dress suit.
On our side of Congress (31st) Street was one of the houses holding four old maids, the daughters of John Davidson, one of the oldest names in Georgetown: Miss Adeline, Miss Nannie, Miss Kate, and Miss Martha. Their mother had died on her knees in Christ Church from a stroke.
Across the street lived four maiden ladies by the name of Mix—one of their brothers married a Miss Pickle!
Of course, before Stoddert (Q) Street was cut through, the Bowie house adjoined the property of Tudor Place, and they were on a level. I can remember when the street was paved, and now that it is one of the busiest boulevards of the city, it seems almost impossible to believe that back in the nineties a houseful of charming-girls, real old-fashioned belles, used often to "erupt" with their many beaux from their home on the neighboring corner, at eleven o'clock some evenings, and have a dance right in the middle of the street—two-steps and waltzes galore!
Home of Francis DodgeHome of Francis Dodge
On the southeast corner of Congress (31st) Street and Stoddert (Q) Street stood, until 1893 or 1894, the very interesting old house where Francis Dodge and his large family lived for many, many years. The illustration does not do justice to the dear old house, but I wanted to give some idea of it as a whole, so selected this one. The long, southern side overlooking the garden had tiers of white wooden galleries and the face of the house under them was plastered white. In the center of the long stretch of wall was a lovely, big doorway with a fanlight, of course, and at the end of the porch, a smaller door which entered a projecting wing of the house.
The place was enclosed by a low, brick wall topped with a white picket fence, and standing near the corner was a gorgeous horse-chestnut tree. Whenever I see one now, I recall this particular tree with its lovely blossoms in the spring and their delicious fragrance. A flight of wooden steps led from a brick walk at the gate to the gallery, and another flight from the same walk down into the garden. Under the porch was a brick pavement where was the pump, and then there was the garden—a wonderful old garden adorned with a maze of box which, of course, enclosed flower-beds.
The whole square, bounded by Congress (31st), West (P), Washington (30th), and Stoddert (Q) Streets, belonged to this estate. It was originally the property of Nicholas Lingan who owned the mill on Rock Creek, and who was a brother of General Lingan. At that time, these big places really were farms, with stables for horses, cows, pigs, and chickens.
Francis Dodge, SeniorFrancis Dodge, Senior
In 1810 the property was bought by Francis Dodge, who, as I have said before, had come from Salem as a ladof sixteen to join his brother, Ebenezer, who was established in a prosperous coastwise shipping trade, dealing largely with the West Indies.
One of the first experiences young Francis had, after his arrival in 1798, was one afternoon when he returned from a row up the river, and as he was mooring his boat, he noticed an elderly gentleman hurrying down the street and out onto the wharf. The gentleman asked if the ferry was in yet, and when the boy turned to answer him and looked into his face, he saw that it was General Washington. Francis replied that the ferry had gone and, noting the terrible disappointment of the great man, offered to row him across the river in his own little boat. The General gladly accepted, and during the crossing asked the young man his name. "Francis Dodge, sir," the boy replied, at which the General exclaimed, "By any chance related to Colonel Robert Dodge, who served so gallantly with me during the War?" "Yes, General, he was my father." "Oh, indeed!" said he, "I am greatly pleased to know you, young man. You must come to Mount Vernon some time to see me."
Whether or not Francis Dodge got to Mount Vernon before the General's death the following year, I do not know, but for over forty years his grandson, Colonel Harrison H. Dodge, was the honored superintendent there.
Young Francis was taken into his brother's counting house, and a few years later, in 1804, was sent to Portugal to investigate trade conditions in Europe. In 1807 he married Elizabeth Thomson, a daughter of William Thomson, of Scotland. They first resided below Bridge (M) Street, west of High (Wisconsin Avenue), probablyin Cherry Lane, where lived also, according to tradition, Philip Barton Key, the Maffits, and other families of distinction.
Mr. and Mrs. Dodge had the usual large family of those days, six sons and five daughters, and all grew to maturity. While they were still small children, however, the British came to Washington, causing great alarm to the citizens of George Town also. Mr. Dodge apparently sent his family out somewhere near Rockville, for this is a letter he wrote to his wife at that time. It gives an interesting picture of those exciting days:
Georgetown,Aug. 26, 1814,12 o'clock A. M.Dear Wife:We have positive information that the British have left the City on the Baltimore road, and passed the toll-gate last night. Some of their pickets are still around the city.We believe they are either going to their shipping on Patuxent or direct to Baltimore; or that they received information of an intention to attempt to cut them off. At all events I am satisfied you would be perfectly safe here, and much more comfortable than where you are. I wish yourself, the child, Emily, Frank, and Isabella, to come home and bring, if you can, one bed. Peggy and Betty can come if they please.Not one Englishman has been in this town or within sight of Ft. Warburton below. They have burnt all public property in the city. It was a dreadful sight. The rope-walks in the city are destroyed. The General Post Office and Jail stand. I hope they will not return here again and can't think they will, they behaved well.The town was very quiet last night and I got a good sleep for the first time. I hope you are well.Yours affectionately,F. Dodge.
Georgetown,Aug. 26, 1814,12 o'clock A. M.
Dear Wife:
We have positive information that the British have left the City on the Baltimore road, and passed the toll-gate last night. Some of their pickets are still around the city.
We believe they are either going to their shipping on Patuxent or direct to Baltimore; or that they received information of an intention to attempt to cut them off. At all events I am satisfied you would be perfectly safe here, and much more comfortable than where you are. I wish yourself, the child, Emily, Frank, and Isabella, to come home and bring, if you can, one bed. Peggy and Betty can come if they please.
Not one Englishman has been in this town or within sight of Ft. Warburton below. They have burnt all public property in the city. It was a dreadful sight. The rope-walks in the city are destroyed. The General Post Office and Jail stand. I hope they will not return here again and can't think they will, they behaved well.
The town was very quiet last night and I got a good sleep for the first time. I hope you are well.
Yours affectionately,
F. Dodge.
Aug. 27, 7 o'clock A. M.After preparing yesterday to send this, William came and advised to postpone till today. You can all come now in the stage, bringing all the books and what else you can.We have no news today but expect the British are near their shipping. We have escaped wonderfully.
Aug. 27, 7 o'clock A. M.
After preparing yesterday to send this, William came and advised to postpone till today. You can all come now in the stage, bringing all the books and what else you can.
We have no news today but expect the British are near their shipping. We have escaped wonderfully.
The stage ran daily from George Town to Rockville. I think it was also called "the hack," for, in old letters from my own ancestors at Hayes, out in that direction, they write of "sending the seamstress out by the hack."
As the boys approached years of discretion, not having been spoiled by sparing the rod, their father gave to each an identical circular, setting forth what should be their "guide through life." His admonition to "read the Bible daily and regularly," was based upon his own remarkable habit in that respect. That he managed to read five chapters consecutively every morning and thus encompass the whole in seven months, is borne out by the periodic notations in his Holy Book. The circulars read as follows:
My practice (and my advice to all) is: if you wish to appear decent shave every morning below ears and nose, cut your hair short all over the head, wear white cravats, no boot-straps or pantaloon straps.If you expect or desire to live in old age with few pains, and in the meantime be clear headed and well, and thriving in your business, rise before the sun, retire early, taking seven to nine hours in bed. Eat regularly and moderately of plain food, plainly cooked; no desserts except green fruit, drink no kind of liquor except water and the like; use no tobacco in any way.Read five chapters in the Bible regularly through, before breakfast, support religious societies and go to church twice every Sabbath Day. Take moderate exercise, attend to your business and keep it always in order and under your Government, never over-trade, hold your word as binding as yourbond, be security for no one, seldom any good comes of it, but often miserable distress.Be as liberal as you can, consistently, to your kin, if in need and worthy, perform all your duties to your family and neighbors.The above I practice almost to the letter.F. Dodge.P. S.—Again, say little or nothing about yourself, your family, or your business. Talk but little—listen.Speak as well as you can of all, expose faults only when you believe it well to do more good than harm, all have foibles and few are free from faults, most, some good traits of character.This post script I am endeavoring to practice.F. Dodge. 1847.Act well your part, there all the honor lies,Read, heed!The above attended to with strict economy, industry and like, will carry you through this life with honor and credit.
My practice (and my advice to all) is: if you wish to appear decent shave every morning below ears and nose, cut your hair short all over the head, wear white cravats, no boot-straps or pantaloon straps.
If you expect or desire to live in old age with few pains, and in the meantime be clear headed and well, and thriving in your business, rise before the sun, retire early, taking seven to nine hours in bed. Eat regularly and moderately of plain food, plainly cooked; no desserts except green fruit, drink no kind of liquor except water and the like; use no tobacco in any way.
Read five chapters in the Bible regularly through, before breakfast, support religious societies and go to church twice every Sabbath Day. Take moderate exercise, attend to your business and keep it always in order and under your Government, never over-trade, hold your word as binding as yourbond, be security for no one, seldom any good comes of it, but often miserable distress.
Be as liberal as you can, consistently, to your kin, if in need and worthy, perform all your duties to your family and neighbors.
The above I practice almost to the letter.
F. Dodge.
P. S.—Again, say little or nothing about yourself, your family, or your business. Talk but little—listen.
Speak as well as you can of all, expose faults only when you believe it well to do more good than harm, all have foibles and few are free from faults, most, some good traits of character.
This post script I am endeavoring to practice.
F. Dodge. 1847.
Act well your part, there all the honor lies,Read, heed!
The above attended to with strict economy, industry and like, will carry you through this life with honor and credit.
The education of the two oldest sons, Francis, junior, and Alexander Hamilton, seems to have been planned to fit them specially for commercial life, to succeed their father in his well-established business. Francis was sent to Georgetown College and Alexander to Princeton—he graduated in 1835. Robert Perley Dodge graduated from Princeton in two years, standing fifth in a class of seventy-six. He then entered a school of engineering in Kentucky. In six months he completed a major course. He rated so high that he was offered a professorship in mathematics, but declined, and became a civil engineer.
The Sons of Francis Dodge, 1878The Sons of Francis Dodge, 1878
William and Allen Dodge received special practical training in agriculture and animal industry at the Maryland Agricultural College. Mr. Dodge bought William afarm near Hagerstown, and for Allen one near Bladensburg, but, due to the Civil War and the abolition of slaves, both of these highly developed ventures failed, and the farms were sold. Charles, the youngest, attended Georgetown College, and took up commercial and export business. In 1862 he was offered command of a Confederate regiment but declined, being a Unionist. He accepted, instead, the rank of major and paymaster in the Federal Army and served throughout the war. For a time he was interested in gold mining in Maryland, and in 1889 succeeded his brother Frank (then deceased) as collector of customs of the District of Columbia.
On the twelfth of June, 1849, a remarkable event took place in this old house—a wedding ceremony at four o'clock in the morning of four of the children of Mr. and Mrs. Dodge. Adeline was married to Charles Lanman; Virginia to Ben Perley Poore, a well-known correspondent ofHarper's Weeklyin those days; Allen Dodge to Miss Mary Ellen Berry, and Charles Dodge to Miss Eliza G. Davidson of Evermay. The weddings were celebrated at this unusual hour so that the bridal couples could take the regular stage leaving Georgetown for Baltimore at five o'clock. At least it was a cool time of day for the celebration, and how beautiful it must have been with the dew lying on the box and the roses, and the birds twittering their sunrise notes. What a jolly time these four couples must have had, starting off together. Let us hope their spirits were not too much dampened by the fact that their father would not witness the ceremony, as it was at variance with his religious scruples that it was not conducted in a church. Reverend N. P. Tillinghast, then the rector of St. John's Church, must have officiated, asthe Dodges were always ardent supporters of St. John's.
The only two members of the family who did not marry were Miss Emily and Miss Elizabeth Dodge. They were the eldest of the girls, and I imagine that practically no one could get up the nerve to ask the old gentleman for their hands. Major Ben Perley Poore used to say that the most momentous hour he could remember was the one spent in Mr. Dodge's office waiting to see him to ask for the hand of Virginia, and he had faced guns when he said that.
In 1851 Francis Dodge died at the age of sixty-nine. He was a very good citizen; his judgment was sought on all matters of public interest connected with the town, besides exercising a controlling influence over commercial transactions. At that time tropical fruits such as oranges and bananas were luxuries, and it is remembered that Mr. Dodge used to send baskets of them around to his friends whenever one of his vessels would arrive from the West Indies.
When I was a little girl, living across the street on the opposite corner from this house, it was always spoken of as "Miss Emily Dodge's." I can remember her well when she would come out on the gallery and walk up and down. She seemed never to go away from the house. She was rather small, had snow-white hair in long curls about her face, and was usually wrapped in a white shawl. I have been told that she was terribly afraid of fire and burglars, so slept fully dressed. Each morning she bathed and re-clothed herself. At night she lay down and slept as she was. At the time I remember, Miss Emily occupied part of the big wing of the enormous house and Allen Dodgeand his wife were living in the lower floors of the wing. His wife was quite an invalid, and I do not recollect ever seeing her.
The main part of the house was occupied for one winter by Dr. Stuart, the rector of Christ Church, and his family while the new rectory at number 1515 31st Street was being built.
After the death of Miss Emily Dodge, the place was sold to close the estate, and pulled down, thereby deleting from Georgetown one of its most distinctive and charming features which today would have been invaluable. I remember weeping bitterly when I heard it was to be torn down; even then, a half-grown girl, I loved old houses.
The two cottages on West (P) Street at numbers 3033 and 3035, were built by Mr. Dodge. In the latter, until her death, lived Mrs. Charles Lanman (Adeline Dodge). Mr. Lanman was a native of Newburyport, Massachusetts. He was a very scholarly man, wroteA Life of Daniel Webster, who was his friend, and other books, and for a long time was connected with the Japanese Legation.
For many years they had a young Japanese girl, Ume Tschuda, making her home with them while she was being educated in this country. The Lanmans had no children of their own, and looked upon her almost as an adopted daughter. She has had a very remarkable career as head of an important school in Japan.
Another house built by the Dodges on their farm is the one on 30th Street, now doubled in size and occupied by Dr. Gwynn. Here Henry H. Dodge lived until he moved into his mother's former home, the Chapman house, on Congress (31st) Street and Dumbarton Avenue.
On the southeast corner of Stoddert (Q) and Washington (30th) Streets, what is now Hammond Court, an apartment, was the house built by Francis Dodge, junior. In the group picture shown, he and Alexander Hamilton Dodge are the two seated in the middle of the front row. A. H. Dodge is the only brother not adorned with a beard. Was there ever a more wonderful display of six stalwart handsome brothers? In fact, good looks are to this day inherent in the Dodge family.
I have already told a good deal of the history of Francis Dodge, junior, of his marriage to the two daughters of Judge Chapman. He had a son and a daughter by each wife.
In 1851, at the death of Francis Dodge, senior, his splendidly established West Indies business continued under the management of the eldest sons, the name being changed to F. & A. H. Dodge. On the basis of their business alone, Georgetown was made a port of entry and a custom house was established here.
Each year there was a sale for buyers from large cities in the North on the Dodges' wharf. It was quite an occasion. The counting house was capacious, and decorated with all sorts of curios from the tropics: sharks' jaws, flying fish, swordfish and sawfish; elaborate lunches were served to the patrons, with cigars and drinkables; chairs and benches were placed out on the platform overlooking the river. On summer afternoons, this was a great meeting place for the friends of the two Dodges.
Many bidders assembled on these advertised dates, hauling commodities away as purchased, some to the rail depot, some to storage, which kept the firm officials andstewards busy. One of the faithful employees was Richard McCraith, a newly arrived Irishman from Cork. He had that noted propensity of his race for getting orders twisted, but his endeavors to do right were so earnest and conscientious that his unintentional errors of judgment were condoned. One urgent order from a patron asked for delivery to bearer of two sacks of coarse salt. For its hauling the bearer had a cart. "Here, Richard, go with this man to the warehouse on High Street and see that his cart is backed up close to the door. The salt is stored in the third floor. Load it carefully on the hand truck, wheel it to the window and let it down 'by the fall'—do you get that straight?" "Yis sir, yis sir!" Presently a man burst into the office, exclaiming excitedly, "That wild Irishman of yours has raised hell up the street. He dumped a sack of salt weighing 200 pounds from the third story to the cart underneath, broke both wheels, and the horse has run away with the wreck." (Enter Richard!) Said the angry boss, "Now, what the devil have you done?" Richard: "Yis sir. Didn't you tell me to let it down 'by the fall'? I did, sir."
In 1867 Francis Dodge, junior, sold this fine house to Henry D. Cooke. In 1877 he was appointed collector of customs. He was quite an old gentleman by that time, and the glories of Georgetown's maritime trade were beginning to be a thing of the past. In fact, with the coming of the railroads, the huge business of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal was injured, and from then on the commercial importance of the town began to dwindle.
Henry D. Cooke, who purchased this house, was the brother of Jay Cooke, and came to Washington to manage a branch of his brother's large banking enterprise. Hewas an intimate friend of General Grant, and I have read that the general was so fond of his company that he would sit in his carriage for an hour outside Mr. Cooke's place of business, waiting for him to go driving.
Claude Bowers, in his most interesting bookThe Tragic Era, speaks of a brilliant ball given the night before the "breaking of the bubble of the Credit Mobilier" in 1873, by Henry D. Cooke. It was in this house that the ball took place. Can't you picture the coaches as they rolled up to the door, discharging the ladies in their crinolines, laces, satins, and flowers, attended by the gentlemen wrapped in the long cloaks of that period? Kate Chase Sprague was in the height of her beauty and power at that time and was, of course, among the guests on that fateful night.
Mr. Cooke was the first governor of the District of Columbia when that new form of municipal government was begun, to last through only three terms. There were twelve children in the Cooke family then living in this house. They were ardent members of St. John's Church—the font there being in memory of one little son. Mr. Cooke built Grace Church, the little gray stone church down below the canal near High Street (Wisconsin Avenue). It was intended for the canal people of whom there were many at that time.
Governor Cooke bought a great deal of property and built four sets of twin houses along the north side of Stoddert (Q) Street, which were called, until a few years ago, Cooke Row. In Number One, near Washington (30th) Street, lived one family of his descendants, one of whom, a young man, played the piano very well. In Number Three, lived Mrs. Shepherd from Philadelphia, awidow, who had one son. He was the first person I ever knew to commit suicide. It was a terrible shock to the town when we heard one morning that he had shot himself the night before. It was not such a common event in the nineties as nowadays.
In one of these houses lived Commodore Nicholson, and in another lived Admiral Radford, whose lovely daughter, Sophy, became the bride of Valdemar de Meisner, secretary of the Russian Legation. In Number Four, lived Mrs. Zola Green with her daughter and her two sisters, named Pyle—one of them was called Miss "Chit-Chat." Mr. Green, who was a descendant of Uriah Forrest, had been given the name of Oceola after the Indian Chief who had saved the life of his father years ago out West.
At Number Five Cooke Row, now 3021 Q Street, lived during the nineties, Dr. Walter Reed, of the United States Army, whose name is honored by being given to the huge General Hospital in Washington because of his association with the discovery of the cause of yellow fever. I recall a most delightful party at the Reeds on St. Valentine night in 1899, given for friends of their son. When the invitations were sent out, we were told the name of the young man or girl to whom our valentine was to be written. It was at the time of the tremendous blizzard of that year, and we walked to the party between drifts of snow piled higher than our heads. But it was anything but cold when we got inside—open fires and jollity! Dr. Reed read aloud the poems, one by one, and we had to guess the authors and to whom they were addressed. In the library, ensconced in mysterious gloom, seated in a corner on the floor was a fortune-teller. It was a perfect party!
Next door, at Number Six Cooke Row, for a great manyyears, lived William A. Gordon, junior, and his family. Mr. Gordon wrote some very valuable brochures of historical interest about Georgetown and his memories of it from his childhood. This house is now the home of Mrs. Henry Latrobe Roosevelt. During World War II, this was the home of Sir John and Lady Dill, when he was here representing Great Britain on the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
At Number Seven lived the Misses Trapier—four old maids again!
J. Holdsworth Gordon, brother of William A. Gordon, built a house across the street. For him the Gordon Junior High School has been named, he having been for a long time on the board of education.
Next door to him on the east, at number 3020, is an attractive old house, and in the nineties it was filled with a family of four charming daughters. They were related to the Carters of Virginia, and so had given two of the most imposing names of that great family to two small fox-terriers that they adored, "King Carter," and "Shirley Carter." The latter had met with an accident and had to have one of his hind legs amputated, but he got about very nimbly on his other three. They always accompanied Colonel B. Lewis Blackford, the head of the house, on his trips about town. One day as he was nearing home, an old lady who walked with a cane was just about to pass him when "Shirley Carter" hopped immediately across his path; "Get out of my way, you damn tripod!" he said, in his exasperation, just escaping being tripped up. The old lady, thinking the "tripod" referred to her adjunct of a cane, was quite infuriated, even to summoning across the street a gentleman who was passing, and to wishing him to "call the Colonel out!"
A little further eastward along Stoddert (Q) Street, on the northeast corner is the house Mr. Joseph Nourse built in 1868, and where his daughter, Miss Emily Nourse, lived all her life. After her death, it was sold and somebody put two old lamp-posts at the foot of the entrance steps with gas flickering in them continuously—and now there is a story around that they were "always" there, and some foolishness about the lights "never had gone out" or "must never go out."
Across the street, where the Stoddert Apartment now is, used to be an old house, in appearance quite like the one of Judge Chapman's on Dumbarton Avenue and Congress (31st) Street, except for the long, side porches. Here lived in the seventies and eighties General Henry Hayes Lockwood and his family. His son, James Lockwood, accompanied General Greeley on his trip to the North Pole, and was lost there in the Arctic, holding the record at that time of having reached farthest North.
A block south, on the northeast corner of Greene (29th) and West (P) Streets, is where Alexander Hamilton Dodge lived, who was a partner with his brother, Francis, in the shipping business. He was the father of Colonel Harrison H. Dodge.
In the days when his children were young, he had a big Newfoundland dog which he had raised from a puppy. One rarely sees one now, as tall and as big as a half-grown calf, with a coat of wonderful black, curly hair. Such pets used to be quite popular, but only once in forty years have I run across another. The Dodge's dog was named Argus. So strong and docile was he that two children could ride him at the same time. He loved the children, took them to school, and gave them "lifts" over wet or muddy ground.Do you remember "Nana," inPeter Pan? She was a Newfoundland dog—just so she nursed her master's children. Returning from escort duty in the morning, a locked container was fastened to his collar and he would be given the word "office," which was enough. Off he'd go, proudly bearing luncheon to his master, who, in return, would send back to the family the daily mail (no postmen to deliver in those days), perfectly confident of its reaching its destination safely, as everybody knew the big dog, and also that he would resent any attempt to stop him or take things from him.
One day the cook complained to Mr. Dodge that somebody had evidently been robbing the hen's nests, as she was getting fewer eggs than usual. Mr. Dodge, going to investigate, met Argus coming down the path from the barn wagging his tail majestically, as was his wont when approaching his master. Mr. Dodge stopped and held out his hand, saying, "Argus, give me that egg," whereupon the obedient dog opened his mouth and out rolled an egg, to the great surprise of Mr. Dodge. Did he punish Argus for that? Not at all, but he told him he was sorry he was a robber and hoped he'd never have cause to scold him again. And he never did!