USA > Washington DC > Reminiscences of the District of Columbia, or, Washington city seventy-nine years ago, 1830-1909 > Part 1
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
GE 975.302 W27V
Gc 975.302 W27v 1208985
M
GENEALOGY COLLECTION
ALLEN COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY 3 1833 02269 5461
Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016
T
https://archive.org/details/reminiscencesofd00vedd_0
MRS. SARAH E. VEDDER
REMINISCENCES
OF THE
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA;
OR,
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago 1830-1909
By MRS. SARAH E. VEDDER
All rights reserved
St. Louis, Mo .: Press A. R. Fleming Printing Co.
1
Copyrighted 1909 By Mrs. Sarah E. Vedder
Dedication
1208985 A GRANDMOTHER'S REMINISCENCES OF THE CITIES OF WASHINGTON AND GEORGETOWN 79 YEARS AGO; DEDICATED TO HER LOVING GRANDCHILDREN,
THE WILLARDS,
THINKING, PERHAPS WITH OTHERS, THEY MIGHT BE GLAD TO KNOW OF HER CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH WHEN SHE HAS PASSED AWAY.
This View of Above Building Represents the Original Capitol.
PREFACE.
My purpose in writing these Reminiscences and presenting them to the public, is to show how the "City of Magnificent Districts" has changed from the village it was to the "City of Beautiful Mansions ;" and thinking, perhaps, many would like to read of times and places long since gone, and hoping to gain a little, not notority, but cash, as everyone in these days are turning all things available to some account, I thought I would write what I knew to be facts, and as I have related them many times to my friends and neighbors, all of whom declared it would interest the curious, and give them some information concerning the city and its inhabitants in the years from 1830 to 1850, or Washington 79 years ago, or more truly the District of Columbia.
I don't suppose Alexandria has changed much-only faces and persons; neither Georgetown, with its hills and hollows; for neither place was trying to be first in anything, only in old families and residences, and they were many. Washington was always famous for trying to be "in the swim" and often times in the "scum" as well, and from what I hear of it, in my home in the West, it is still as eager for notoriety as in the days of long ago.
Hoping this little volume may find favor in your eyes, and replenish the exchequer of which just now I am greatly in need, I remain,
Your humble servant,
THE AUTHOR.
n
President Washington, aided by his brother Freemasons, of Georgetown and Alexandria, laid the Corner Stone of the Capitol, under what is now the Law Library, on the 18th day of September, 1793.
"IN VIRGINIA."
The roses nowhere bloom so white As in Virginia; The sunshine nowhere seems so bright As in Virginia. The birds sing nowhere quite so sweet, And nowhere hearts so lightly beat, For heaven and earth both seem to meet Down in Virginia.
The days are never quite so long As in Virginia; Nor near so full of happy song, As in Virginia. And when my time has come to die, Just take me back and let me lie Close where the James goes rolling by, Down in Virginia.
There's nowhere a land so fair As in Virginia; So full of song, so free of care As in Virginia; And I believe that happy land The Lord prepared for mortal man Is built exactly on the plan Of Old Virginia.
By permission of the author, Mr. Polk Miller, Richmond, Va.
REMINISCENCES OF THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA; OR, Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago- 1830-1851
"Backward, turn backward, O time, in thy flight; Make me a child again, just for to-night."
My recollections go as far back as 1830, when, as a child, I wandered along from the "Infant School" taught by Misses Julia and Mary Bates, in the quaint old town of Alexandria, its streets paved with cobble- stones, and named King, Prince, Duke and Royal. On the corner of King stood the Old Hotel, where La- fayette was entertained, the female stranger died, and where Ellsworth was killed, years after, for pulling down the Confederate flag that floated from its roof. How well I remember the Market House, its town clock, that struck the hours, to be heard for miles
-9-
10
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
around. One thing, above all others, that interested me, was to see men, women and children going to the "soup house," with tin pails, to get soup. Three times a week the poor of that city were sure of a good meal. The Market House, a large brick building, three stories high, that occupied the square, the ground floor being built with arches or passways, to allow the market people to display their wares. A long porch surrounded the second story, within a large hall where the "Masons" met; this "lodge" was the one to which General George Washington belonged, and of which my grandfather was a member. Right here let me say that my grandfather was one of the men who worked on the coffin of General George Wash- ington, and a piece of the black walnut wood, of which it was made, I have often had in my hand, for my mother had it in her possession in 1836.
The Fairfaxes, Fletchers, Gregorys, Armfields and Dangerfields-the two last, dealers in human flesh. It filled me with horror, young as I was, to see the negroes, chained two by two, going down to the wharf to be sold, "down to Georgia," which phrase was all- powerful to quell any insolence or misdemeanor among them.
These people were the richest in the town, and their mansions were surrounded by grounds beautifully
J
11
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
laid out, with gravelled walks, bordered with box- wood, trimmed and kept in order by faithful "Uncle Tom." One little incident I must relate-I have often heard it repeated in my earliest childhood: One of these gentlemen had a wife who was afflicted with "hysteria," and imagined many strange things. Amongst others she imagined she was a "goose," and made her nest in a basket of turnips, declaring she would "set there until they were hatched." How to get her off no one knew; the doctor said she would die if they could not get her to leave the basket. Amongst their valued possessions was a set of "French China," been in the family for generations; her husband, knowing how she prized it, set a long table before her, each piece separate, and, with a cane in his hand, broke each piece until he came to the last. As he raised the cane to smash the teapot, she rushed at him, declaring he should not break that.
The Vowells, Summers, Buckinghams, Fields, Brocketts, Blunts, Blacks, Chamberlains, McVeighs, Jamisons, Adams, Muirs, Whittingtons, Lockes, which last were the grandparents of Colonel William Sinn of the Brooklyn Theatre.
I was born in a brick house, on the corner of Prince and St. Asaphas street, where we lived until I was seven years old. "Aunt Phebe Lowdon," an old
12
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
colored woman who lived on the opposite corner, sold nuts, molasses candy and other dainties to the school children. In after years a Presbyterian church was built on the same place, whose minister was named Danforth. The Hollowells kept a school for boys on Washington street. They were Quakers, as the rich- est and best people of that town were, at that time. On this same street was Christ Church, where General Washington attended and had a pew. It was there when I last heard of it, and I presume it is there still.
Out this street, north of the city, were the "Spa" Springs, where hundreds, morning and evening, would walk for recreation and drink the water, which was medicinal. The springs were three in number, and of different strengths, sulphur and iron being pre- dominant.
The Chathams, Englishs, Claughtons, Waters, Noyes, Woods, Mills, Tatsapaughs, Schaffers, Pratts, Beeches, Sinclaires, Triplits, Jimneys, and many others whose names I have forgotten and whose places are filled by strangers, for all this was more than 60 years ago. Old Dr. Sims was one for whom I had great respect ; he was our family physician.
My father was a Baptist, belonging to the church of which Mr. Spencer Cone was pastor, who, a few years before, was an actor in the "Richmond Theater,"
13
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
which was burned and many lost their lives. Mr. Cone's escape was considered miraculous. He turned preacher. He was grandfather of the actress who has escaped from so many conflagrations-I believe it is "Kate Claxton."
Now, after more than a year's silence, I will go on with my reminiscences. We moved from Alexan- dria to Baltimore. After my father became settled in Baltimore he sent for his family, who had remained in Alexandria. Captain Mitchell, with whom my father was intimately acquainted, ran the steamboat Columbia from Alexandria to Baltimore weekly. He was to bring us the next trip. Letters did not go then as quickly as they do now, and the postage on each and every letter was twenty-five cents. The boat started before daylight and on that particular morn- ing our mother had dressed my brother and myself and laid us upon the bed, until time to go to the boat. While waiting, her young sisters awakened and, on going out of doors to get chips to start the fire, ob- served the falling stars; they thought it was the usual way for the stars to disappear, and remarked: "How strange the stars go in." My mother, hearing them, went to the door and, seeing the falling meteors and hearing the commotion on the street, thought, with others, the end of time was at hand, and very glad
14
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
was everyone when day dawned and all was "peaceful and serene."
My father had obtained work at the car shops of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. He was carriage trimmer, and I have some of the material he used in my possession today, very unlike the costly brocades and plushes we see now; it is cotton, and looks like "duck," of which the ladies make dresses, coarse and heavy. My father was the first man who conceived the idea of putting the cars on small wheels. How well I remember the day he came from work, com- pletely tired out, and said to mother: "Mary, I am worn out; they have been hanging a car, and it is a heavy task to get one on those high wheels; I be- lieve I could invent small wheels." And that same evening he brought out his paper and leather, and for two or three weeks, every night, was drawing, cut- ting and stitching the leather wheels together; and when all was completed he took his designs to the fac- tory, and there was never another car put upon high wheels. I tell you all the particulars, for I stood at his back and saw him work night after night.
A few months after, we went to Washington to live, then a city of 20,000 inhabitants. General An- drew Jackson was president. My father was an inti- mate friend, having been in the war of 1812, and
15
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
used to take my brother and myself to the White House to see him. We would go up in his bed cham- ber; the president would always say to the servant, "Bring a cricket for the little girl," and we would sit like mice, hearing them tell of old times. I re- member the famous big cheese when it was cut, and have not forgotten how a piece bit my tongue when I tasted it, for a very small portion was sufficient.
My father was an invalid, having contracted con- sumption while in the war of 1812. He was taken prisoner at the battle of North Point, and carried with others to the Island of Bermuda, where he was kept on a prison ship three months, with water up to his chin, with daily rations of one "Boston cracker" (they called it "hard tack" in the Civil war), soaked in water, and eaten after dark, for the crackers were worm eaten. He was exchanged and lived until 1837. While on his deathbed his friends got up a petition to Congress for his relief, with back pay amounting to thirty-three hundred dollars, principally through the influence of Hon. William Merrick, member of Congress from Maryland. The bill passed the House and two readings in the Senate when my father died, and they allowed the widow, with four little girls, the magnificent sum of two hundred and eighty dollars, and they were destitute.
16
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
We had many kind friends: Mr. John M. Moore, chief clerk in the land office, and his sister, Miss Mary Moore; Mrs. Dr. Elizey; the family of Major T. P. Andrews, paymaster in the army. When I say "fam- ily" I include Mrs. Dr. Fairfax, afterward Mrs. Cap- tain Sanders, and Mrs. John Coutee, sisters of Mrs. Andrews; also Miss Eliza Andrews and the family of Major Selah R. Hobbie, postmaster-general.
My mother was very delicate, and had it not been for them she would never have been able to keep her four little girls together, as my father requested we should not be separated. We lived opposite Mr. Peter Hagner. He was one of the auditors, and one night, while my father lay ill, there was a fearful noise in the streets. At that time there was much talk of an insurrection of the negroes; we all thought they were at their dreadful work of destroying the whites, but in the morning we heard that all the confusion, whoop- ing, blowing horns and ringing bells was the burying the "sub-treasury bill," and Mr. Hagner was in some way interested.
We were living on H street, between Eighteenth and Nineteenth, in a house owned by Dr. Richmond Johnson, opposite Mr. Hagner's. No houses on the south side of the street, only George Krafft's bakery on the corner, a two-story frame, next to a small blue
17
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
frame, where lived Joseph Dosier, a hackman, Mr. Hagner, in a large brick house in the centre of the block, and the Union Engine House, just being built on the west corner of Nineteenth and H. There were no houses on H street south of Pennsylvania avenue ; it was a vacant lot with a carpenter shop on the cor- ner of Twentieth street and H, owned by Mr. William Wilson, the father of four sons and one daughter, who have figured in the first society in Washington city of late years. He was brother of Mr. John Wil- son, who built a beautiful brick house near the corner of Seventeenth, between H and I streets. On the cor- ner of East and South and Sixteenth street stood the Gadsby mansion; it had been occupied a few years before by Commodore Stephen Decatur. Next south on Sixteenth street was a large, white, two-story house, where lived Hon. Levi Woodbury. A high board fence from there to Pennsylvania avenue; oppo- site the War Department, and in the centre of the block, north side of the avenue, was a square brick, where Dr. Lovell lived. No other houses on that block; a high board fence from the avenue running north on Seventeenth to H street, inside of which was a hawthorne and crab apple hedge, which perfumed the neighborhood for weeks, in the spring.
Just across from Gadsby's stood a large, gloomy
18
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
house, occupied at that time by Daniel Webster, and in later years by Packinham, the British minister, and later by W. W. Corcoran. It was the only house on that block, and it stood solitary and alone for many years. Next east was St. John's Church, Episcopal, corner Sixteenth and a half and H street. On seven- teenth, between H and I, was a fine brick, near the centre of the block, occupied by Mr. Potts, a clerk in one of the government offices; across the street, north, corner of Seventeenth and I, lived General Mc- Comb, a lone house of the lead-colored brick. From this point you could look and see Columbian College in the distance. Not a residence north, far as the eye could reach, only one large house where lived Mrs. Charles Hill, a very devout Catholic.
The reason I remember this lady was, after my father died, my mother finished a beautiful hearth rug, worked with worsted, and the friends who were in- terested in her welfare had it raffled and Mrs. Hill was the lady who won the rug. It was so beautiful she remarked it was fit for the altar of the church, and it lay on the altar of St. Patrick's Church for many years. This church was on the corner of F and Tenth, Father Matthew being an old man at that time.
From General McComb's house, coming east on I
19
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
street, were no houses until you came to a long, two- story "rough cast" house, which had the reputation of being "haunted." In after years it was torn down, and Mr. George W. Riggs built an elegant residence on the spot. I must tell you about the old house, for my hair has stood on end and my flesh crept many a time as I passed in the dusk of the evening. It was a low house, with porches above and below, covered with vines of sweet-scented honeysuckle, sweet briar, ivy and jessamine, the front yard filled with rose bushes, and the perfums of flowers filled the air from early spring until the frost. It seemed from its sur- roundings that angels might have made it their abode instead of the demons who, night after night, held high carnival; screams were heard, firearms used, and moans and groans were of common occurrence. I suppose it was inhabited by persons whose interest it was to have the house, keep its dreadful reputation ; it looked to outsiders as if no human feet ever enters its precincts.
Next east was the house where Mrs. Commodore Stewart lived with her mother, Mrs. Tudor. I must describe her, for I have seen her many times reclin- ing upon her chair, a lounge of satin. I have taken work to Mrs. Stewart, as my mother made dresses to support her little ones. Mrs. Tudor was a very
20
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
small woman, and usually dressed in pale blue satin, a cap on her head, the lace frill covering her fore- head, but not hiding the little "frizzy" curls on either side of her head. She wore gold spectacles, over which she looked with keen, pale blue eyes that pierced you through. Her feet were always encased in black satin slippers that were scarcely larger than my hand; her voice was very low, hardly above a whisper, with an Irish brogue. Altogether, she filled me with won- der and admiration, for I was scarcely ten years old. This lady was the great-grandmother of "Charles Parnell."
All the space between General McComb's and this "rough cast" house was a cow pasture and marsh, where calimus grew in great patches, and where I got "mired" many times on my way from school. Next Mrs. Stewart's, on the corner, lived Commodore Mor- ris, who had five daughters, two whose names I re- member, Louise and Maria. A few years before the Morris lived in Georgetown, one of the daughters be- came infatuated with a very handsome young man, who, I have heard, was a shoemaker. He in turn ap- preciated her devotion ; she eloped with him, was mar- ried, her parents never forgave her, and she died shortly of a broken heart, leaving a little daughter. After her death that young man determined to rise
21
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
in the world and make himself famous. I have seen him hundreds of times driving by, with his daughter beside him, in his own beautiful "equipage," with his servants attending him, his money, in a few years, amounting to millions, his gifts of property and money, to the City of Washington exceeding more than any other man in the district, and he has also left, to the city, a "memorial" to his wife and child, with funds to support it for years to come.
There were no houses in the neighborhood, only a few where negroes lived. From Commodore Mor- ris, going south, was St. John's Church, a beautiful little church overgrown with ivy, the entrance facing the west. All the first people attended this church. Parson Hawley's, it was called. He was a venerable looking man, wearing his hair long and tied in a "que," dressing in black, broad brim, low-crowned. hat, small cloths, or knee breeches, long black silk stockings, white muslin ruffles falling over his hands and shirt bosom, muslin necktie with large bow under his chin, large silver buckles on his low shoes, always carrying a cane, looking very like the pictures of William Penn. He lived on Pennsylvania avenue, between Seventeenth and Eighteenth.
The only house on the street with the church was an old white brick, one-story, with high, pitched roof,
22
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
gable to the street, standing back from the sidewalk, large trees in front, the yard filled with bushes, and weeds higher than your head, that were never trimmed -a dismal place, I can tell you. I never remember its having a tenant. Only four houses in that neigh- borhood, on the street going north and south. The Harrisons lived in the one nearest the corner of H street, the McMorelands in the fourth, or last, near I street.
On the corner of H and Fifteenth and a half streets stood the residence of Mrs. Madison. Dozens of times I have seen her sitting on the front steps, sur- rounded by young girls, laughing and talking, for she was fond of young company. Two of the girls I well remember-Louise Herndon, who became the wife of Chester A. Arthur, and Adela Cutts, who married Stephen A. Douglas. Mrs. Madison always wore a white crepe turban, low-neck, short-sleeve dress, white lace scarf across her shoulders; her dresses were either lilac or buff. Black slippers, either satin or kid, with "galloon" laced across her instep, with silk hose. The bonnet she wore was usually a green silk "Calash" that would not disarrange the turban. A large "broach" was worn in front of the turban, or over the ear.
- Three other houses from Mrs. Madison's to Penn-
23
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
sylvania avenue, Mrs. Ogle Tayloe's, who died in the bath, one day, after eating a hearty dinner. I well remember the circumstance, as sudden deaths were, in those days, "few and far between." Next, the "unlucky" house, exactly like the Tayloe house, but it had a bad reputation-no one prospered who lived in that house. In after years, in front, under the beautiful trees, P. Barton Key was shot. In the house Hon. William Seward was attacked, and where lately James G. Blaine lived. Had he been supersti- tious as I, he never would have purchased it, and not anyone could persuade me to attend the theatre erected thereon. These houses had high brick walls, the tops finished with broken glass. Many walls in the city were finished in the same manner. It gave the place an awful look. On the corner of Pennsylvania av- enue was Dr. Gunnells, a dentist, his house facing the avenue, with an ell running back, the grounds beauti- fully laid out, with vines and roses filling the space. Next came the house of Mrs. Smith, with side and front garden; next, a one-story brick or stone build- ing, light-gray in color, a dark sign over the door, with large, gilt letters, "Bank." I presume it pre- sents the same appearance still.
The treasury building, opposite the bank, on the corner, was a large gray building, for the addition
24
Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
was scarcely begun. From the corner of Fifteenth and New York avenue were only two or three houses, a drug store on the corner and, next, Mrs. Milligan's. She was a widow and had three lovely daughters, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Isabella and Jane. Miss Elizabeth was an artist, and painted miniatures on ivory. I have been in her studio many times, and she allowed me to look at her pictures, the most exquisite work, she often getting a hundred dollars for a single picture. This was many years before the days of daguerro- types or photographs. Not many could afford to have their pictures taken. I well remember the first daguerrotype I ever saw. It was of Mrs. Bucking- ham, of Alexandria, who was visiting my mother, and the price was five dollars. Everyone was having a picture taken. You had to sit motionless five or ten minutes, giving one a terrible "stare," and after it was finished you could see it only in a certain light.
Not many houses on the north side of New York avenue (only a few sheds for the stone cutters) until you came to a Presbyterian church in the angle made by the crossing of the avenue. I believe the church was called "Dr. Gurley's," 'Round the corner from the Milligan's, on Fifteenth street, was Douglass flower house; it was quite a treat to enter on Fifteenth, pass through, and come out on G street. Mr. John
25
Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
Douglass had a nursery out Twentieth street, near Holmead's burying ground, where he raised fruit trees and flowers and, although, he was the crossest looking man, he made the most beautiful bouquets, and his "Camelia Japonicas" were equal to the orchids of today.
Next the green house was the residence of Mr. David Gardiner, and only one or two houses on the north side of G street until you came to the "Foun- dry," the M. E. Church. At this "meeting house," as all the Methodist churches were called at that day, and where the women sat on one side and the men on the other, John Newland Maffit held a protracted meeting for several weeks and a great many were added to the church.
The Methodists of that time differed greatly from those of today. They could, like the Quakers, be told by their dress. The material was either silk of mer- ino, light color. "Ashes of roses" was the chosen shade, shawl of the same shade, or white, a close bonnet of satin, white or black, and of peculiar shape, or a white leghorn, trimmed with a ribbon passing over the top; not a loop or bow anywhere. In sum- mer the shawl was generally of Canton crepe or silk. No Methodist ever appeared on the street without some kind of drapery.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.