USA > Washington DC > Washington DC > Reminiscences of the District of Columbia, or, Washington city seventy-nine years ago, 1830-1909 > Part 2
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
Long shawls had not come into use at that time. I have a plaid long shawl, one of the first brought to the city, over 47 years ago, and sold by Mr. Darius Clagett, corner Pennsylvania avenue and Ninth street. There were six brought from Scotland, and were called "Shepherd's hand." "Shepherd's hand," the shawl was called, I presume because it was twice as long as wide and enveloped one from head to foot. Just
think of the first-class store in Washington City ordering six shawls ! You can imagine the size of the city in 1846! Mr. Clag- ett's store had as great a reputation as A. T. Stew- art's in New York. It was the first store. Riley kept the next first-class store, corner Pennsylvania avenue and Eighth.
I have gone out of my line and will return to the "meeting houes." Opposite the foundry was a low, white building, "the Free School," taught by Mr. Henshaw. No greater stigma could be attached to a boy or girl than to have said of them: "They go to the free school." This gentleman was the father, or stepfather, of Mrs. E. D. N. Southworth. In these days she was writing her first papers, to be pub- lished in the "National Intelligencer," I believe. Only two papers were published in Washington then; one
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
by Blair & Reeves, the other by Gales & Seaton. They were dailies.
The reason I remember these places so minutely, the foundry was the church I attended from child- hood, never missing a Sabbath, rain or shine, until I left the city for a home in the West in 1851.
I shall go back now to Mrs. Madison's house. From the corner, on the north side of the street, there was no house until you came to Tenth street. St. Mat- thew's Catholic Church, corner of Thirteenth, I think, was being built. I remember when the cornerstone
was laid. Father James Donelon was pastor.
He
had been assistant to Father Matthew at St. Patrick's on Tenth and G street. Some half a block or more east was a three-story brick, where lived a Catholic lady whose name I have forgotten. On the corner east from this house, going north, between H and I street, were four white frames. In the first one lived a widow, Mrs. McArdel, whose daughter, Miss Adeline, in after years married a German music teacher, whose name, I think, was "Riece," or Reese. Going along on H street, there was a row of old, dilapidated houses. In one of them was a negro school, taught by a man named Cook. Next, further east, was the "Demineaux" building, a very large stone house, standing back from the street, with stone posts, and
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
chains extending from post to post, and circular car- riage way to the front door. Mr. Goveneur lived here, whose daughter married Dr. Haskell, an army doctor, or government physician. This brings me to the Presbyterian, or Dr. Gurley's Church, in the angle of New York avenue, crossing H street.
Across the avenue was a large tannery, and going east on H street Buist's green house. No houses un- til you came to Tenth street. The Van Ness house and vault stood on the corner. On the northeast corner of H and Ninth, was a large square, one-story building, "McLeod's School," in front, on Ninth street, no opening, only a large front door, over which was a long sign with "Order Is Heaven's First Law." Mr. McLeod
was an old man and had taught three generations. What he taught was never forgotten by the pupil. No other building was near. It stood on a "knoll," and at the foot of the hill a tiny stream ran, not more than eighteen inchess across, but quite deep and swife. I suppose it flowed from the tannery, west. On this hill the children played at recess, building little dams and waterfalls with the beautiful pebbles found in the stream, and mottled with yellow, blue, green and white.
Mr. McLeod was a gentleman of the "old school,"
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
who believed in severe punishment, and that "to spare the rod spoiled the child." Once or twice a week he would send three or four of the largest boys to the woods for "hickorys." That meant a day off from school. They would return in the afternoon, bring- ing great bundles of rods or switches, each one as large around as a man's thumb, and six or eight feet long; and if they were not of the right size, they who brought them would be the first ones to feel them. The school room was fifty feet or more square, with six rows of desks and benches on either side, each row elevated four inches above the one in front; every scholar could see and be seen from the centre of the room. The teachers, at the time I attended school, were Mr. Hare and Mr. Weston. Mr. Mc- Leod could stand in front of the first row and, with one sweep of his "hickory," and he always carried one over his shoulder, could wrap it around a boy or girl sitting on the last, or highest, seat. There was no confusion in that school. In summer, or from the first of April until October, school was held from five o'clock in the morning until five in the afternoon, with two recesses, an hour, from seven till eight, for breakfast, and an hour, from twelve till one, for din- der, calling the roll three times a day.
At the morning school we had "Morning Tasks,"
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
a rule from "Murray's Grammar" and a table or rule from "Pike's Arithmetic," after which the dictionary classes were called and passed into the class rooms to recite; after these were heard it was seven o'clock. There were three desks in the school room, one for himself higher than the others. At eight o'clock the roll was called for the second time. Mr. McLeod would "promenade" with one of his longest and "lim- berest" hickorys over his shoulder, and if he saw any- one not looking at him he would rush at you with, "Said your morning task?" and woe be unto you if you could not tell in an instant to whom you had re- cited; the safest plan would be to answer, "to
yourself," for he could not remember those
who had said their tasks to him or not.
Sometimes the boys, especially the smaller ones (for he had scholars from 6 to 22 years), would lay their heads upon the desks and fall asleep. His eyes were upon everyone ; he would creep softly up to the water bucket, take a dipperful, and pour it down their necks while they lay asleep, or, if their hair was long, would twist the end of one of his long rods into the hair and "jerk" out the lock.
One boy in particular I used to pity ; his name was William Knott. He had lovely auburn curls, and it was Mr. McLeod's delight to get his switch entangled
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
in those curls and give them a jerk. Often the boys played truant, and one day, I well remember, John Brennon went off to play on the railroad, and had his arm cut off, near the shoulder, by the cars. Another boy who often played truant was "Bob Wallack." We, the scholars, all thought one day he would be killed. The large boys were sent to find anyone whom Mc- Leod suspected, and, finding Bob, brought him in. One of the shortest switches was taken; he was thrashed unmercifully and, being barefoot, every time he jumped his tracks were marked with blood. Three of the largest boys, Eugene Commisky, Philander Bowen and Malcolm Seaton, came forward and begged him to stop.
I have never forgotten the last day I attended that school. I had been a pupil more than two years. The body of President Harrison lay in state at the White House and, of course, all were anxious to be dis- missed a little earlier. Afternoon recess all the pupils were standing with arms folded across their breasts. as was the custom when calling the roll, McLeod prom- enading as usual, and before I knew it I felt a sharp sting upon my right arm and, on looking up, saw Mc- Leod standing before me in the centre of the room. He had struck me on my left arm, and the end had drawn the blood; it ran trickling through my sleeve.
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
It hurt dreadfully, but I would not shed a tear or let him see that he had hurt me in the least. I went home and mother said: "You shall never attend that school another day." The old fellow came to our house several times, made many apologies, but my mother was firm. Among other things, he said: "Your daughter was doing nothing; I must have made a mistake (he had never struck me before) ; send her, and I will teach her for nothing as long as she chooses to come." This is a sample of the schools of olden time; would it be tolerated now? My mother used to tell the same of her teacher in Alexandria, a Mr. Cohen. The lessons had to be learned and recited, whether you understood them or no.
The Van Ness house, tomb and school house I have described, were the only buildings on the block, and it extended from Ninth to Tenth, and between G and H streets. Mrs. Van Ness was a very benevolent lady and had many orphan children under her care, for they had no children. Van Ness also owned the very large stone house on Seventeenth street, near the canal, south of Pennsylvania avenue. The house had a bad reputation. North of the Van Ness place was an old stone house, owned by a bachelor named Carbury. Next, Mr. Lewis lived, for many years clerk in one of the government departments. In those
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
days there was no "civil service;" a man once in had a life office. I knew one person, appointed by Presi- dent Jackson, who died in the service only a few years ago-Mr. William P. Faherty. Mr. Barkley, who lived on Eighteenth street, two doors south of Penn- sylvania avenue, held office seventy years. Mr. Charles Calvert, corner Nineteenth and I, held office many years, and dozens of others whose lives were spent at their desks.
I knew one gentleman in the war department who held his position more than thirty years. They could not dispense with his services or get anyone to fill his place, for he could, with a few momonts' notice, put his hands on any important paper the secretary of war might require; he had studies his business, knew it perfectly, and died a few years ago with paralysis of the brain.
On Eighteenth street, north of Pennsylvania avenue, lived Mr. Charles Sousa, whose grandson is, so I have heard, the great band leader; if so, I taught his father his letters, for I taught school on eighth street in the large white frame house owned by Mr. Pickwell, of Georgetown. And east of the brick house where lived Archibald Campbell, next west, was General Charles Gratiot, whose daughter, Julia, died in St. Louis a few months ago. His eldest daughter was the wife of
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
Count Montholon, whose death occurred in Paris many years after.
I remember the night the news came of the "rebel- lion" in France. The French "attache," Boubolon, had rooms opposite, and you would have imagined a "rebellion" in the neighborhood. Next door, on the south side of H street, lived Major Emory, whose wife was Miss Bache, a relative of Benjamiin Frank- lin. Mrs. Robert Knox Walker and Mrs. Charles Abert were sisters of Mrs. Emory and daughters of Mr. Bache, who lived on Pennsylvania avenue between Nineteenth and Twentieth streets. Two sons of Major Emory attended my school. One of them, in after years, conducted or commanded the expedition to the North Pole. I had the sons of Beverly Tucker, the son and daughter of General Magruder, the son of Major Gwinn, the son and two daughters of Rev. Dr. Finkell, of the German Lutheran Church, on G street, between Nineteenth and Twentieth. Next, the church was a large, double, brick house, occupied by Hon. Lewis Cass.
The Wainrights and Turnbulls lived in this neigh- borhood. Major Hetzel lived in a gray brick on the north side of G street. The Rays, several years after, built a beautiful house on the corner of G and Twen- tieth. Across the street, south side, the Goldsboroughs
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
lived in a brown stone house, standing alone, one of whom married a Miss Meade. Mrs. Lear, a lovely old lady, lived in this part of the city. Her husband, years before, shot himself in a house on G street. Near the corner of Eighteenth and G, Governor Marcy built a residence. On the west side of Eighteenth and G, an old brick house stood; it looked then as though it had been built a hundred years. Mrs. Craven kept a boarding house in it. South of this house, on Eighteenth and F, lived the Carrolls, of Carrollton; they had several daughters. From this corner was a view of the Potomac, and you could look over into Virginia. There was nothing to obstruct the view. Major General Hunter lived in the centre of the block, on F street, between Seventeenth and Eighteenth, east of which was a row of large, brick houses, that turned the corner in a circular form, where the Carters and Keys lived. These houses were called the "Tayloe Row." In one of them Mrs. James Madison lived while the White House was being repaired, or reno- vated, and where Aaron Burr surprised Mrs. M. in the garden one morning before breakfast, he having "scaled the wall" that surrounded the place.
East of these houses, on the corner of Seventeenth and F, lived General Townshend, who had two beau- tiful daughters. One was an adopted daughter, who
1208985
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
married Dr. Witherspoon, the physician who attended General Taylor in his last illness. This brings us to the Winder's building, used for government purposes, on the north corner from General Townshend's and opposite the war department, at that time a two-story blue stone building, since replaced by a magnificent stone structure. On the corner of Pennsylvania av- enue and Seventeenth streets was a one-story frame building, occupied by Mr. Coburn, as a grocery and feed store. Turning west on the avenue was a res- taurant, kept by a Swiss man named Jost. Next, Parson Hawley lived, pastor of St. John's Episcopal Church. In the next house lived "Vivian," a French cook. Many times have I seen him rushing up Penn- sylvania avenue with his white cap and apron, his sleeves rolled above his elbows, going to prepare a dinner or entertainment for someone in the "West End," as this part of the city was called. Vivian had three beautiful daughters, Louise, Sophie and Lillian. The eldest "ran off" and married John O'Neil; the youngest married Mr. Joseph Redfern; the other, Sophie, married someone in the eastern part of the city. Mr. O'Neil was the brother of Mrs. Colonel Eaton, the famous "Peg O'Neil," who first married a Mr. Timberlake, who, they said, committed suicide. He left two daughters; the eldest, named Virginia,
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
went to France with the Pagets, French minister at that time. I have often seen her. She was very beau- tiful. I have heard she was the mother of the Miss Rothschild, wife of the Earl of Roseberry. The younger one became the wife of Lieutenant Randolph, a cadet from West Point, who, a few weeks after his marriage, was ordered "aboard ship" for a three years' voyage, and was lost at sea. Mrs. Randolph died of a broken heart, leaving an infant daughter to the care of its grandmother, Mrs. Colonel Eaton.
At the time of which I write, Colonel and Mrs. Eaton lived on I street, between Nineteenth and Twen- tieth streets, in an old red brick house, on the east of which Dr. Lytle lived, on the street running on the north side of the "market house," which stood in the angle on Pennsylvania avenue. After the death of Colonel Eaton, Mrs. Eaton lived in this house, with her mother many years. Mrs. Rhoda O'Neil was one of the loveliest old ladies you could imagine ; always ready with a smile and sympathy for anyone who was in need or distress. Before this time Mrs. O'Neil boarded with a man named Degges, corner of Twentieth and F streets, who was a "carpenter," as also were his sons, of whom he had several, John, Samuel (I have forgotten the names of the others), and two daughters, the eldest married Mr. Dickson
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
and died. Virginia married Mr. Sutton, a merchant in the first ward. In those days most of these people were mechanics and earned their living by the "sweat of their brow," but that was no detriment to them, only, when I hear of their descendants now, I think of the little couplet :
"Tall oaks from little acorns grow ;
Great streams from little fountains flow."
We were all young people together, and many "sleep the sleep that knows no waking." The house next west from the Vivian's was a red brick of most peculiar shape, and at this time many of the houses were built after this fashion-a long ell, with entrance one the side, and standing quite a distance from the street. I suppose the idea was to build a front to them some day. Mr. Coburn's family resided in this house. Next west, a little old building, where a shop was kept, and still further west, near the corner of Eighteenth and Penn avenue, a one-story build- ing of frame, where old Mr. Schnider had a shop and sold notions to the school children, nuts, apples, cakes, "chinquepins," slate pencils, marbles and mo- lasses candy. He was very close in his selling, never giving one nut more than the measure. All the chil- dren would rather go on the opposite corner, to
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
Kraft's, for "Miss Sophie" would give twice as much for a penny. Mr. Schnider had a parrot that fright- ened the children almost to death. When they pushed the door open, a bell fastened to the top by a piece of hoop, would ring. Polly would scream, "Don't steal! Don't steal!" and keep up the cry until the old man would come it, with a scarlet cap on his head and roughly demand, "What do you want now;" if only a cent's worth, it was taken eagerly.
He had many sons and daughters who now lived in style, for it is more than fifty years ago since this happened. Across on the north side of H and Eigh- teenth, on the corner, was a white cottage, entrance on Eighteenth street, where Mr. Robertson lived. Next, on H street, Mr. Bitner, a gunsmith, whose wife was the only daughter of Henry Hines, who lived in the brick house next west. This house had a long, low porch in front, and upon this porch we stood and saw the total eclipse of 1836.
How often have I listened to old Mrs. Hines, with open eyes and shaking limbs, tell the wonderful tales of the war of 1812. Many men left their homes in the morning and never returned, having been "pressed" into the service. One, whose name was Joseph Dunn, left home in the morning, leaving wife, an infant boy, never to return or be heard of again in the land of
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
the living. Dear old Mr. Dunn lived opposite our house, devoting her time to her grandchildren, for her son Joseph married, and died leaving three sons and two daughters orphans, his wife dying first. The oldest girl married Thomas Donoho, a lawyer living in the eastern part of the city, or "Northern Liber- ties," as it was called at an early date. I think it was on Seventh street, a new street running north and south, with only a few very small houses. They came often to visit her. James, Henry and Joseph were the names of the boys.
Next west, a white frame double house, owned and occupied by Dr. Richmond Johnson. Next, the resi- dence of Rev. Charles A. Davis, who had three sons, Charles, Philip and Thomas Kelso, and three daught- ers, Anna, Charlotte and Susan. Anna married a Mr. Sturgis and is, I believe, living in Washington. Charlotte became the wife of Thomas Johnson and died shortly. Charles married a daughter of Rev. Mr. Finkel, but did not live many years. The others I have lost sight of, but if living are old men and women. Next west, a red brick house, where Mr. Isaac Hanson lived, who had a club foot. He had three sons, Weightman, Charles and John. The two eldest went to the "Mexican War" and never returned ; both were killed. Mrs. Hanson never recovered from
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
the shock. Mrs. Storer, her mother, lived with them. The youngest daughter died about this time with scar- let fever, and the older one, named Harriett, married, years later, Mr. Kennard. They were related to the Eastons and Harrisons, who lived on the corner of Nineteenth and I streets, across from the Colored Baptist Church. Next, the Hanson's was a vacant lot, owned by Mr. Samuel Redfern. The Schniders built a fine house upon it in after years. The Redferns were English people; had belonged to the household of Stephen Decatur. Mrs. Redfern was a Miss Law- rence, whose brother once shot at the president, Gen- eral Jackson (a historical fact). Mr. Redfern had been butler or coachman. Next, a brick, where the Turtons lived; they had a large family. The oldest daughters were married and named Vernon and Espey ; the youngest daughters were Jane and Eliza. Three small brick houses brought you to the corner of Pennsylvania avenue, H and Nineteenth streets, where Mr. Redfern had a grocery store; going north on Nineteenth street, east side, was Mr. Smith's liv- ery stable, and on the northwest corner of Nineteenth and I, Mr. Smith lived. He had five daughters, one of whom years later married a son of Mr. Little, a . butcher, who stood in the market house many years and made plenty of money, for everyone must have
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
meat. Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Hoover and Mrs. Sousa were all sisters of Mr. Brooke Edmunson.
On Nineteenth street, next to the Colored Baptist Church, was an old brick house, with gable to the street, where Mr. Asa Wilcox, a government employe, lived. He had two beautiful daughters, Mary Jane and Julia. Julia was teacher, for many years, in a school kept where Mr. Abbott taught years before, opposite General McComb's, on the corner of Seven- teenth and I, I believe. "Richards" was the name of the principal. Mary Jane married a professor named "Quince," of Oxford College, in Mississippi. No other houses on that street to Pennsylvania avenue. Then the six buildings on the avenue going west.
This was a row of buildings, three stories and base- ment, considered elegant residences at that time ; stone steps, with iron railings, going into a basement, or kitchen apartments. The "aristocrats" occupied these houses. Mrs. Craven, a widow, kept boarding house at the corner. Next, Mrs. Freeman lived. Colonel French Forrest next. The Wainrights, General Gra- ham, with the Munroes' in the last one going west. Mrs. Munroe was the mother of Mrs. Randall, whose husband was clerk in one of the government offices. They had three daughters, Juliana, Emily and De- borah, who died when she was ten or twelve years
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Washington City Seventy-nine Years Ago
old, of typhus fever. We all went to school to Miss Quincy, who kept on the corner of Twenty-first and H street. There were three sisters, the eldest, Miss Mary, being the teacher. Miss Susan and Miss Liz- zie were the others. They lived with their father, their mother being dead. The house was a large red brick with one-story "ells" on either side, the whole covered with an ivy vine that grew to the tops of the chimneys. They were Baptists, and every Sunday, rain or shine, the father, with the daughters, would attend the Tenth street Baptist Church, Rev. Obediah B. Brown, pastor. My father attended this church, - and on one particular Sabbath, Colonel Richard M. Johnson came in and sat in the seat in front of us. After services my father told my brother and myself that that was the colonel who had killed "Tecumseh." I remember his appearance well. A stout man, dark red, curly hair, and he looked like a giant when stand- ing to converse with my father, who was rather small.
I have made quite a digression, but I have written as the ideas have presented themselves. One large house stood next the six buildings (there was a shoe store between, kept by a Mr. Cross, who had several daughters, and were "kin" to the Hines). The drug store of Mr. Flodourdo F. Howard was kept on the first floor, the family residing above. Afterwards
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Reminiscences of the District of Columbia; or,
Thomas Morgan occupied the same drug store; years after Ridgely occupied the same place. Old Squire Waters lived next. Two or three frame buildings brought you to the corner of Twentieth street and Penn avenue, where a small store was at this time. On the south side of the avenue and opposite the six buildings were two or three small frames, in one of which was a barber shop, in another an old couple named Chapman; they sold various commodi- ties, principally "yeast," a cent a gill. One could scarcely get near the door of an evening, for Mrs. Chapman's yeast had a reputation. I have heard they had considerable property years after.
Next came Hoover's shoe store ; two or three houses brought you to the corner of Nineteenth and Penn- sylvania avenue. Only two houses on Nineteenth street, for it was a short side. "Favier" kept a res- taurant on the southeast corner, opposite the engine house. Esquire Waters owned nearly all this block; he would not sell-only lease for a term of years, mostly ninety-nine. No houses were on the south side of H street, but a few years after, Mr. William Wil- son built a frame house near the corner of Twentieth, where Mrs. Freeman, a widow, lived; there were two daughters, Mrs. Smith, a widow, with one son, a lad of about twelve years, and Miss Anna, a music teacher.
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