A Portrait of Old George Town Part 19

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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DR. GRAFTON TYLER]

For a great many years Dr. Tyler was the physician for Georgetown College. It is still a tradition in the family about 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 hea.r.s.e. 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 Was.h.i.+ngton (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 more modern 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. Ca.s.sin, 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. Ca.s.sin 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 Was.h.i.+ngton (30th) Street, at 3018 Dumbarton Avenue, is the house that Mr. George Green 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 called _Early Days of Was.h.i.+ngton_.

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 the door 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOME 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 the garden. An old colored man was pa.s.sing, 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 barege 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLD 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 pa.s.sed 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 facade, was used as a Federal hospital during the Civil War, Dr. Peter being in charge of it as well as the Seminary.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ST. 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. SAYRS

HU: EEL

RECTOR PRIMUS

HIC

(QUO CHRISTI SERVUS FIDELITES MINUS TRAVIT)

SEP: JAO

OB: 6 JAN. A. D. MDCCIX