The Ten Miles Square

Past and Present

2010-03-26T10:06:00.000-07:00

Check out this website comparing the DC cityscape then and now. http://www.dailycognition.com/index.php/2010/03/07/25-photos-comparing-exact-same-places-from-past-present.html

What a cool project! My favorite is below. Yes. That is a rabbit on a leash.

(Photographer: Jason Powell)

The Building Building

2010-03-01T22:03:00.000-08:00

I've written about the National Building Museum before, but since it's one of my favorite spaces in the city I don't feel bad giving it a little more attention on this blog. My grandfather actually used to work in the building as building manager before it was converted into a museum, and was involved with some aspects of the building's transformation. During a recent house cleaning he discovered some of the building museum's early promotional materials and mailed them to me.

What a treat! The promotional brochure explains the thought behind turning Montgomery Meig's 1887 Pension Building into a museum for the building arts to, "present the drama of building and to stimulate public interest in the quality, beauty, and livability of man-made America." The National Building museum council was formed in the late 1970s as the offices that existed in the building at the time were slowly being moved to other government agencies, and the massive building with it's impressive great hall was falling into a sad state of disuse and disrepair. It turns out my grandfather was instrumental in getting netting put up around the enormous column capitals to keep pieces of them from crashing down onto the cubicle bound workers below. The committee to save the building was made up of an impressive cast of characters, prominent in the preservation of Washington and beyond, and by 1982 the Old Pension Building was reborn as the National Building Museum. The museum continues to operate today as a monument to preservation and good design.

Everyone should visit!

Sources: The Building Building, 1977 Brochure produced by the Committee for a National Museum of the Building Arts, Inc.

Photo courtesy of the author

Tweeting in the 18th Century

2010-02-03T21:07:00.000-08:00

Wow, that’s a lot of snow! Plenty more on the way. Today, the Capital Weather Gang linked to the National Weather Service charting historic DC snowfalls. At the top it mentions what has been referred to as the Washington-Jefferson snowstorm of 1772 as both Founding Fathers mentioned a three foot accumulation in their diaries. If the Founding Fathers both independently mentioned this storm, then it must have been something newsworthy. Would it be possible to find these diaries transcribed online…

What!? Was there a doubt? This isn’t 1996; of course it’s online (the university system and Library of Congress are terrific)! Here’s a description of George Washington’s week in 1772:

“27. At home by ourselves the day being dreadfully bad.
28. Just such a day as the former & at home alone.
29. With much difficulty rid as far as the Mill the Snow being up to the breast of a Tall Horse everywhere.
30. At home all day it being almost impracticable to get out.
31. Still at home for the Causes above.
Feb. 1st. Attempted to ride as far as the Ferry Plantation to wch. there was a Tract broke but found it so tiresome & disagreeable that I turnd back before I got half way.
2. At home all day.
3. At home all day alone.”

Initially, I planned to discuss this snowstorm, but I’m realizing that we have much more lofty things to discuss than the weather. I want to put this out there for opinion: George Washington’s Diary and Weather Reports reads like a Twitter page. A thought, an action, a day whittled down to 140 characters or less. Even when starting a new diary Washington writes at the top, “Where and How my time is spent.” Some years he varies this statement with “Where, how, and with whom my time is spent.” Is that phrase not the essence of a Tweet?

I appreciate Washington’s compellation to record the weather. As a farmer, it was important to try to predict weather patterns year to year, especially when a drought or flood could cut in to profits. Understanding why Washington kept a diary is a bit different—he didn’t have others following his entries, yet he kept a diary off and on from 1760 to his death. The Library of Congress (LoC)suggests that his diary was intended to account for his time, which was valuable like the land on his farm. The diary was more a matter of good business practice, rather than a memoir or secret-keeper, or something to increase social status. This is where George Washington’s diaries diverge from Twitter.

Where I think the diaries and Twitter meet is that Washington’s entries are not strictly business. Though most of his emotions are reserved for his correspondence between friends and family, the diary serves as a blank interface, or as the LoC puts it, “He is not on guard here, for he seems unaware that any other eyes will see, or need to see, what he is writing.” This is the same phenomena we see on the internet with Facebook or Twitter, where there is an invisible wall, a disconnect, between the writer and the rest of the world. From time to time in the diaries you see outbursts rage and amusement. However, it does seem that he becomes wordier as time passes. I am not sure if this is due to old age or an indication of the presidency having affected his vanity. In any event, tonight I am left with the thought that George Washington was a natural tweeter (apparently the cartoonist on right agrees with me), and I’d like to know what sorts of hashtags he would come up with. Since I don’t have that luxury, I’ll create a tweet for him. GEorgEwa$hinGtoN: @Col. Fairfax c ya #foxhunt today. Rid to Mill. Gonna b awesome.

Source: The Diaries of George Washington. Vol. 3. Donald Jackson, ed.; Dorothy Twohig, assoc. ed. The Papers of George Washington. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1978. Available at the Library of Congress.

Good practice for trivia night

2010-01-12T22:21:00.000-08:00

So this quiz was pretty fun and very informative - I'll admit I didn't do too spectacularly, although I was able to correctly match the list of famous memorials to their criticisms.
Enjoy!

DC History quiz

Comment on The Irregulars

2010-01-10T08:33:00.000-08:00

I’ve tried to stay away from book reviews because for one, this isn’t a book club blog. Secondly, I like to consult at least two (and preferably more) sources when writing to get some consistency and originality. I’m breaking my rules.

The Irregulars. The reason for my delay in blog postings (that and the holidays, and the daily 9 to 5—so there are lots of excuses). The problem with The Irregulars is that it should be awesome. Espionage, World War II, Washington, British Embassy, AND it centers on author Roald Dahl of James and the Giant Peach and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fame. His autobiographies are on my bookshelf. He’s a favorite and always has been.

However, this is one of those books where you tell yourself, “I’ll get through a chapter tonight. At this rate that book will be done by Sunday. Success!” Sunday rolls around and you read ten pages, put it down for a few days. Read ten pages, put it down. At the same time it is not a bad book, but the way the book is marketed is that you think you’re getting a continued bio on Dahl and his days as a spy in Washington, his connection to Eleanor Roosevelt who would have him to the White House for tea, his days as a womanizing playboy, or his connection to Bond creator and co-worker Ian Fleming. Instead you get are vague tales of a Washington society with vapid cocktail parties in the midst of war and of paper-pushing memos which go nowhere or have minimal effect (Doesn’t that sound like Washington today?). In fairness, there is not much author Jennet Conant can say. Lots of the dealings with the British Embassy remain confidential, leaving room for speculation. Despite this, I am left with the feeling that British propagandist Dahl was no grand spy, but a mid-level embassy employee, who had good connections as a budding writer. He was only about 28 at the time—too young for a diplomat.

Is this all to say that there is no redeeming factor in the book? No, absolutely not. Conant’s work shows the level of access the Roosevelt’s had. You could be 28 and have tea with Eleanor for tea, or get invited to Hyde Park. I get the sense that the author thought to herself, “Roald Dahl, a spy? This will be a terrific book.” She followed the documents, but could not get enough information to make it gripping. To compensate for that Conant spins a tale of an American government who was lost in a war with little intelligence. She demonstrates the influence of Britain’s embassy over both the legislative and executive branches, over the democratic process, and over the value of friendships in DC as well.

My favorite tidbit gleaned from The Irregulars? It’s rumored that one wild night Dahl went out and painted red the errrr “nether regions” of the Bison statues by the Dumbarton Bridge leading from Dupont to Georgetown. It was written up in the gossip columns. I’ll look in to it this month and let you know what I find out (or at least let you know the history of the bison).

It's cold outside

2009-12-28T11:50:00.000-08:00

Central dome of the old main conservatory in the late 19th or early 20th century

As Washington sets into it's annual deep freeze, it seems like as good a time as any to start highlighting some beautiful building interiors. If you are looking for a place to visit in the cold, the United States Botanic Garden has the added benefit of high tech temperature controls to make every visit a trip to the equator. The building itself, located at the east end of the National Mall near the Capitol Building, was built in 1933 with a nod to the palm house conservatory architecture made famous in Victorian England. The soaring glass structure of the palm house - now referred to as the Jungle - was one of the first large buildings in the country to use aluminum for its structural supports.

The garden's collections date back as far as 1816, when the Columbian Institute for the Promotion of Arts and Sciences in Washington DC proposed the creation of a botanic garden, "to collect, grow, and distribute plants of this and other countries that might contribute to the welfare of the American people." In 1820 Congress passed legislation allowing for the Institute's garden to be planted to the west of the Capitol Grounds, approximately where the Capitol reflecting pool is located today. This garden existed until 1837 when the Columbian Institute disbanded. In 1838, American naval officer and explorer Charles Wilkes was commissioned by Congress to circumnavigate the globe and explore the Pacific as part of the United States Exploring Expedition. While abroad Wilkes carefully amassed live and dried plant specimens, returning in 1842 with an impressive collection of plants previously unknown in the US. News of his findings reestablished interest in a national botanic garden, and his collections were displayed in a specially constructed greenhouse behind the Old Patent Office Building. A new structure was built in place of the Columbian Institute's garden in front of the Capitol in 1850, and the collections were developed and maintained there until moving to their present location in 1933.

The 1933 building was designed by Architect of the Capitol David Lynn. The 56,000 ft conservatory was originally conceived of as as a complex of glass greenhouses connected by brick galleries. The austere limestone facade was typical of government building during the New Deal, but the airy glass greenhouses were a novelty and a delight. By 1997 the collections had outgrown the aging structure, and the building underwent a four year multi-million dollar restoration. While the glass greenhouses were modernized to accept state of the art climate control systems, many of the building's details (including the exterior limestone, fountains, and exterior windows and doors) were restored or recreated to match the original designs.

Sources:
http://www.usbg.gov/
http://www.hort.wisc.edu/mastergardener/Features/botgardens/USBG/USBG.htm

Photo source:
http://www.usbg.gov/

Teens Crash White House Dinner

2009-12-01T20:20:00.000-08:00

The gossip blogs are afire this week with posts about the White House Crashers. More relevant to TMS rather than TMZ, Henry Morgenthau III (son of FDR's Secretary of Treasury Henry Morgenthau) contributed an Op-Ed to today's International Herald Tribune found here. In it he recalls a time in 1938 when two teens crashed a White House party on a dare to get President Roosevelt's autograph.

Morgenthau concludes with the point, "In this time for change, some things have not changed very much." The Op-Ed has a nice link to an online collection of Eleanor Roosevelt's My Day column, which is hosted by George Washington University--some good reading to do in your free time.

Better Homes and Gardens

2009-11-17T21:00:00.000-08:00

She may not be the first of the First Ladies to start a garden or open the White House up to the public, but I have learned that I owe gratitude to Pat Nixon. It was she who first opened the White House to the public twice a year for the Spring and Fall Garden Tours; it is because of her (and a friend who had tickets) that the Secret Service opened their wrought iron gates and let me in to see the garden a few weekends ago.

As Richard Nixon noted in his memoirs when Pat Nixon entered the White House she did so without “breaking stride.” Mrs. Nixon committed herself immediately to the building and its grounds, adding more antique American furnishings than any other First Lady—it was she who had the Gilbert Stuart copy of John Quincy Adams replaced by the real McCoy.

Mrs. Nixon first opened the White House up for the garden tours in 1972. Over 10,000 people attended, the event was a success. Despite the initial confusion over why there was a Rose Garden that in fact had no roses, over the years the popularity of the garden tour expanded. This autumn, attendance peaked at 25,000. However, attendance was particularly high this year due to Michelle Obama’s “Victory Garden” aka the White House Kitchen Garden. Though she never had the appeal of a Kennedy (Jacqueline Kennedy garden above left), Mrs. Nixon preferred to work quietly behind the scenes. She added the exterior lights to the White House, so it could be seen glowing at night on Pennsylvania Avenue. She changed the White House Tours, adding speakers while people stood in line so that visitors might learn the history of the house while waiting.

Having never attended a tour of the White House, this is the closest I’ve been to the Oval Office. I was surprised to see how high the land sits. From the backyard you can see the Jefferson Monument clearly, something you can’t do from Constitution Avenue, which sits below the South lawn and the Ellipse (see below center). Also, the Andrew Jackson Magnolia!!!!! Planted in 1830 and dedicated to his deceased wife Rachel!!!! It’s still there (see above right to the left of the portico)! Amazing! Yes, I did have thoughts of taking a leaf from it. No, I did not take a leaf because I feared crossing the Secret Service and National Park Service. I made the right choice.

Sources: Bonnie Angelo, Time Magazine, “Pat Nixon: The Woman in the Cloth Coat,” July 5 , 1993.

Jonathan Movroydis, Pat Nixon and America’s White House, 2009.

White House Historical Association. “The White House Gardens and Grounds” (Fall 2009).

Under the city

2009-11-04T20:16:00.000-08:00

Talk about creepy. Just in time for Halloween, the Washington Post Answer Man reported recently on rumors of buildings in DC that had underground doors leading into the dark and swirling remains of Washington's old Tiber Creek. Naturally, many of these are unfounded claims, but it prompted me to do a little investigating of my own.

The creek was originally known as Goose Creek before it became part of the territory of Washington DC and was renamed in honor of Rome's Tiber River. Early maps show that its course ran south from around the intersection of today's 1st St NE and North Capitol Street down towards the Capitol building before turning west and following today's Constitution Avenue and meeting the Potomac near the Washington Monument.

Historic image of the city showing Tiber Creek, and present day Washington

In his master plan for the city L'Enfant actually proposed using the Tiber as a canal to the Potomac, and in 1815 the part of the creek that ran along Constitution Avenue was added to the Washington City Canal system. Unfortunately, without sufficient infrastructure, by the 1870s the Washington Canal had become little other than a giant sewer and was eventually paved over as part of a city improvement project. Board of Public Works lead architect Adolf Cluss was responsible for the construction of the giant brick tunnel which housed the river and allowed for the construction of the roadway above it. Parts of the tunnel still exist in deteriorated form today, and the Old Post Offce building does indeed have a manhole cover in the basement which reveals the much diminished creek trickling by when opened. There are also the remains of an historic C&O canal lock keeper's house at the corner of Constitution Avenue and 17th Street, which is where the mouth of the Tiber Creek once opened into the Tidal Basin.

Because of the instability of the old creek bed, many of the buildings on or near Constitution avenue, including the IRS building, The National Archives, and the Warner Theater had to be built with deep pier like foundations. The Warner Theater was actually supposed to be named the "Cosmopolitan Theater", but after its owners spent so much money on the construction of the foundation, they ended up having to seek investors and named it the Earle Theater after one of their investors instead. It was later renamed the Warner after being bought by Harry Warner. Engineers working on the construction of the massive Ronald Reagan Building in the 1990s appeared to have finally found a way to successfully divert the water, but their methods actually reduced the water level so significantly that the IRS building's foundation lost stability and began to sink.

Today the creek is mostly a silent, hidden piece of Washington's past, but every now and again it rears its head. Before being diverted underground, in 1804 the creek caused one of the most significant floods in Washington's history, sending sewage, livestock, and people racing down Pennsylvania Avenue. More recently, the remains of the riverbed became saturated during heavy rains in June of 2006, and caused terrible flooding in the downtown area, threatening among other things, the copy of the Constitution kept at the National Archives. Thankfully, nothing major was lost.

Sources:
Kelly, John. Answer Man, Washington Post.Sunday, November 1, 2009. http://www.washingt onpost.com/ wp-dyn/content/ article/2009/ 10/31/AR20091031 01607_2.html
Tiber Creek, Wikipedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiber_Creek

Image Source: Tiber Creek, Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiber_Creek

Evidence of the Capital's Pernicious Past

2009-11-04T19:07:00.000-08:00

It’s often difficult to find evidence of slavery in a modern urban landscape. After the 14th Amendment which abolished slavery, the need for slave quarters and shanties in the back allies of streets disappeared. Often lacking architectural flourish, slave quarters were the first buildings torn down to make way for the new architecture. As Washington shifted from a rural town to a bustling metropolis, evidence of slavery within the District all but disappeared. Yet, in 1860 there were 3,185 slaves (4.2% of the total population of the city) living in the Capital. You could be walking by an old slave quarters on your way to work every day and not even recognize it. Fortunately, there are some telltale signs in recognizing an old slave quarter --and what follows is a guide to help you.

Location relative to the master’s house: Unlike plantations, where slave quarters were set apart from the Big House, lack of space in urban areas meant that slaves were located closer to their masters. A typical urban slave quarter could often be found in back of the master’s house or at a right angle to the house. For quarters that were perpendicular and attached to the main house, the idea was to create a confining space for slaves, essentially keeping their view of the outside world limited.

Construction: Architectural design and layout was more crucial in urban areas than on the plantations—a slave quarter could not be an eyesore that could be hid from the Big House as on plantations. In the city the quarters would be seen, and were therefore constructed out of brick and stucco rather than the mud and logs found in the Deep South. Quarters in the City came with glass windows and shutters.

Size: The quarters typically housed no more than 15 slaves at a time. The structures were usually one to two stories and often long and narrow. On a two-story structure the idea was to create a sense of a compound around the slaves who worked in the backyard. The height of the quarters made it difficult for slaves to see the outside world, a further means of control for the slave owner.

Doors: In order to keep slaves confined there were no doors leading to the street. If the quarters were attached to the master’s house, a slave would have to walk through the Master’s house before leaving for the market or entering the outside world. This was done to give slaves the feeling that their actions were constantly under the surveillance of their masters and mistresses.

Interior: In a two story building, the ground floor held the kitchen and household laundry. The top floor contained the living space which could be one large open room, or small bedrooms meant to provide family space.

The overall theme to take away from the design of an urban slave quarter is that of control. The quarters were meant to be confining, meant to limit contact with others outside of the master’s household, and intended to emphasize the degree to which a master was in control of his slave. The urban slave quarter to some extent reveals the fear felt by a white slave-holding society as well. The masters' need for control came from an ever-increasing sense of fear that their slaves would seak freedom, or worse, revolt. Unlike on an isolated plantation, the city provided a chance for free and enslaved blacks to mix and mingle at markets and at church; white owners did not want their slaves to take to the notion that freedom was possible.

Before you go looking around DC for these slave quarters, I’ll point out that there is only one remaining in the District. It’s located at 1610 H Street, NW and is a part of the Decatur House Museum (seen at left now standing admidst cars rathers than carriages). As far as slave quarters go it is a perfect example of what I have just described—right angle from the main house, two stories, stucco, no door to the street (one has been added in modern times due to fire codes), long and narrow.

The slave quarter at the Decatur House is believed to date back to the 1820s, where it started as a single story structure. The second story was added in the 1830s by house owner John Gadsby. The kitchen was located on the first floor, with slave families living above it. In 1844, there were 17 people living on the top floor, which is about 900 square feet, about the size of a single apartment. The preservation of this structure-- one of only a scant handful left in American cities-- serves as a reminder that slavery did exist in Washington and it existed within sight of one of our greatest symbols of democracy, the White House.

Sources: The Decatur House Museum.
Peter Kolchin, American Slavery.
Richard C. Wade, Slavery in the Cities.

Going Green!

2009-10-27T20:19:00.000-07:00

Last week the Annual Solar Decathlon on the National Mall came to a close, with the innovative entry from Team Germany taking the top prize. I had a chance to pass through the competition and was very impressed with the line up of well designed "green homes." It also got me thinking about one of Washington's first "green" buildings (and my favorite place in the city, hands down) the Old US Pension Building, better known today as the National Building Museum.

Built between 1882 and 1887, the structure was designed by US Army Quartermaster General Montgomery C. Meigs, who was commissioned by the government to create a fireproof structure to hold the US Pension Bureau's offices and important records. Following several major city fires (The 1871 Great Chicago Fire being perhaps the most memorable), fireproofing was of utmost concern to architects and engineers in the 1880s. The use of terracotta, brick, and steel rather than wood became prevalent during the time period. At the same time, following the Industrial Revolution, many citizens and politicians became concerned about the quality of health and living in cities, and the first US "green" movement was started.

Despite it's relatively small budget, the Pension Bureau was also designed to serve as a grand space for Washington's social and political events. To achieve this Meigs modeled his building after two Roman palaces, Michaelangelo's Palazzo Farnese and Palazzo della Cancelleria, but used brick as his primary building material. To keep up the building's status Meigs used only expert brick layers and a high quality pressed red brick. The exterior frieze, which depicts Civil war soldiers, is made of inexpensive terra cotta, and other decorative elements use painted plaster on brick surfaces rather than stone or marble.

The impressive Great Hall, which has seen many a Presidential inauguration gala, mimics the courtyard of Palazzo della Cancelleria. The enormous interior space is 316 feet by 116 feet, and is 159 feet at the peak of the roof. Four colossal Corinthian columns divide the space, and are modeled after columns in Michelangelo's church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. The central fountain is 28 feet across and still has its original terracotta trim.

The Great Hall served it's purpose well as a grand entertainment venue, but many of it's decorative elements also served to provide the large space with natural light and air. After connections were established between disease rates and the crowded and squalid living conditions that industry and immigration the had brought to US cities, new efforts were made to make buildings more open. The roof's system of windows, vents and open archways allowed for natural ventilation through the space and the water in the fountain kept cool air on the lower levels. Since the Great Hall is open from floor to ceiling, all offices were pushed to the perimeter and therefore had air flow from both the Hall and the exterior. The building was a model of clean, natural, healthy engineering - very "green" for it's day!

The Pension Building was used as office space by various government offices until the 1960s when it became apparent that the building was badly in need of repairs. The space was not ideal for government offices, the Great Hall was no longer needed as a natural ventilating system with the advent of central air, and this "wasted space" was filled in with drop ceilings and standard office cubicles. (The horror!) In 1969, the Pension Building was listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and under pressure from the preservation community who saw the beauty and ingenuity of the aging structure, the government commissioned architect Chloethiel Woodard Smith to rethink it's use. It was under her suggestion that the structure was converted into a museum for the building arts, and a 1980 Act of Congress mandated the creation of the National Building Museum as a private, non profit educational institution. The building was officially renamed in 1997, and is today a fantastic addition to the DC cultural landscape.

Source: National Building Museum Web site: http://www.nbm.org/about-us/historic-building/

Photos taken by the author

Jury Duty Week

2009-10-13T21:10:00.000-07:00

United States Tax Court

So I've been stuck in Jury Duty all week in the oh so typical DC Superior Courthouse. I've decided there are only two good things about Jury Duty - being close enough to the National Mall to eat lunch there and having random spots of down time to write blog entries. Perhaps it’s just the boredom, but we’re going to shake things up here by going modern - mid century modern! A neighboring building to the DC Courthouse, the U.S. Tax Court Building was built by architect Victor Lundy in 1965 (dead smack Mad Men era). Government construction in the 1960s was heavily influenced by the 1962 "Guiding Principles for Federal Architecture"; created for President Kennedy by the Ad Hoc Committee on Federal Office Space in an attempt to improve the quality of federal buildings. This was a significant step for the government to take as the committee correctly assessed that citizens would take more pride in their government and employees would take more pride in their jobs if their buildings were attractive.

The original Tax Court was located in the Internal Revenue Service Building that was built in the 1930s. By 1962 the need for the Court to have it’s own space was great, and the U.S. General Services Administration allocated $450,000 for the design of a new building. Architect Victor Lundy was so well respected in the field for his modernist sensibilities and inventive engineering that he was awarded the contract without competition. Lundy’s Modern design is best expressed in the striking cantilevered courtroom, which made use of technological advances in construction to achieve its dramatic appearance. The 4,000-ton courtroom block, which projects over the entrance, is supported by compression and post-tensioned bridges and steel cables located within the building’s walls. This innovative engineering is conveyed on the building’s interior as the compression and tension bridges are also used as interior circulation bridges.

In 1967, New York Times architectural critic Ada Louise Huxtable described the plans for the U.S. Tax Court Building as "a progressive, sensitive, contemporary solution fully responsive to Washington's classical tradition and yet fully part of the mid-20th century--a period of exceptional vigor and beauty in the history of structure and design." Today the Tax Court is still regarded as one of the most sophisticated examples of Modernism in Washington.

Photo by Carol Highsmith for GSA

Sources:

GSA Building Overview, U.S. Tax Court http://www.gsa.gov/Portal/gsa/ep/buildingView.do?pageTypeId=17109&bid=1264&channelPage=%2Fep%2Fchannel%2FgsaOverview.jsp&channelId=-25241&reason=bldgNameNos

The Other White House

2009-10-07T20:36:00.001-07:00

I recently took a trip south of Washington to visit the other Capital with the other White House. Strange to think the Confederates chose their capital to be only 98 miles from Washington, but early in the Civil War the iron mills and factories of Richmond, Virginia were of tremendous strategic importance to the South. So it came to be that the Confederate capital was situated on a bluff overlooking the James River, and the executive mansion on 12th and Clay Streets became known as the White House of the Confederacy. Not to be picky, but the Confederate White House is actually pale grey (pictured at left as seen now and below right during the Civil War).

Originally constructed in 1818 for a prominent physician, the third story of the federal period house was added when it was purchased by the Crenshaw family in 1857. When the war commenced the Confederate government purchased the home and furnishings for $42,000, and CSA President Jefferson Davis and family moved in shortly thereafter.

Davis’s wife and first lady Varina became the official hostess of Richmond society, and the home was used for entertainment. At first the levees and balls were lavish, as the Southerners had many early victories to cheer on. Nonetheless, Varina Davis preferred to keep a “Quiet Set” and tended to keep gatherings small and intimate. She feared Richmond to be full of dreadful gossip.

As the war progressed, Richmond began to feel the strain of tough economic times. The price of a gallon of eggnog was over $100 at Christmas in 1863. “Starvation Parties” soon became the talk of the town, where the only expense was hiring the band and attendees refreshed themselves with a glass of water from the James River. Despite this privation, Mary Chesnut—the wife of General James Chesnut—noted that she attended one of Varina’s “Luncheons for Ladies Only” where they were served “gumbo, ducks and olives, lettuce salad, chocolate cream and jelly cake, claret cup, champagne, etc.” But on the whole, social gatherings at the Confederate White House became fewer and far between.

By 1864 the Confederate First Lady confessed to Mrs. Chesnut that the Davises could no longer live on the income provided by the Confederate government, and had begun selling off the horses and carriages kept in the carriage house at their White House.

Most of us know how the Civil War ended. The Union Army seized Richmond burning about 10% of it. Jeff Davis and Varina fled for their lives. The southern White House became the headquarters for the occupying army, with Lincoln personally visiting the mansion on April 4, 1865. He sat in Davis’s chair and helped himself to some of the wine left by the Rebel First Family.

It’s interesting to consider the lives of these two presidents living in their own “White Houses.” Aside from the struggles of the War, both as heads of state used their homes to entertain. Both had wives who presided over the local society and were frequently the subject of gossip. My image of Jefferson Davis has always been that of a slave holding villain. I had not considered him to be a family man, so visiting the house he briefly resided in humanized him. Like Lincoln, Davis suffered tragedy in his White House as well. In Washington, Lincoln’s son Willie died in 1862 of disease at age 12. Perhaps more horrifying was the death of five year old Joseph Davis, who fell from the East Portico of the Davis's White House.

2 Presidents. 2 First Ladies. 2 Capitals. 2 White Houses. The Confederate house is currently in the care of the Museum of the Confederacy; an interesting place where you can learn about the “Second American Revolution,” States Rights, the valor of the Confederate troops, and the vast superiority of their cavalry. I guess there are 2 ways of looking at things.

Sources: Mary Chesnut, Diary from Dixie.

Nelson Lankford, Richmond Burning.

Museum of the Confederacy.

Emory M. Thomas, The Confederate State of Richmond.

Fight for Ol' DC!

2009-10-02T10:07:00.000-07:00

The beloved Redskins currently stand at 1-2 after a defeat to the abysmal Lions…. Oh the Humanity! How can it be that a once dominant team has fallen so far? For me there is just one team and that is the Chicago Bears because they are the greatest and T formation and 1985 and Ditka and Monsters of the Midway. I need no elaboration. With that caveat, if there is one thing a Bears fan respects it is tradition—something that struggling Skins have aplenty.

Owner George Preston Marshall moved the team to Washington in 1937 after failing to draw fans in Boston. Head coach Ray Flaherty set out for Texas to recruit a young rookie quarterback out of TCU, Sammy Baugh for $8,000. In a time when the forward pass was used infrequently, Baugh was an odd choice for a quarterback, but his arm would change the way football was played, and he became known as Slingin’ Sammy. When the Redskins attended their first practice in Fairlawn Park in Anacostia, over a 1,000 fans showed up to cheer on their powerful linesmen. By August of 1937, the Redskins had their own volunteer marching band and even a fight song, “Hail to the Redskins” written by Marshall’s second wife and silent film star Corinne Griffith. Yet, Flaherty knew that the Redskin’s welcome would soon ware thin if they could not deliver out on the gridiron. Before the first game he told his team that if they wanted to keep their jobs they had to go out there and win.

And win they did, earning their first championship that season defeating the Bears at Wrigley Field 28-21. George “Papa Bear” Halas’s team did not take well to losing at home, and before long one the first NFL rivalries ignited. For the Redskins the success ’37 meant that Flaherty and his team had found a home.

As for the rivalry, payback came the following year later, when the Bears smashed the Redskins 31-7. After the game Halas commented to the Redskins, “That’s too bad, girlies…What say we all go down to the corner for a double banana split and a fistful of chocolate éclairs?” Ouch. That’s harsh, Papa Bear.

The Redskins let their hatred simmer until they teams met again in 1940. Both teams struggled back and forth, when finally the Redskins claimed a 7-3 victory, won by an ankle tackle by running back Dick Todd, stopping the Bears at the one yard line. It was three weeks until the Championship game. Marshall predicted that should the Bears play the Redskins for the championship, they’d have to win big or not win at all. As if fated, the teams would indeed meet for the championship at Griffith Stadium (at Georgia Ave and W Street, NW). Taking Marshall’s words to heart the Bears unleashed a fury, ending the game with a 73-0 victory over the Redskins (who unlike the current Lions, were playing in the championship—the Redskins were no shabby team). The score still stands as the largest margin of victory in NFL history.

Admittedly, this has turned out to be biased posting on the prowess of the Chicago Bears, but I find myself incapable of singing the praises of another team. But cheer up Redskins fans you still have: 5 championships, 3 Superbowl titles, the NFL first marching band, and the first NFL fight song. So when times get tough, think about Slingin’ Sammy and the championship in 1937, and the later days with Coach Gibbs. You have tradition! Now get out there and beat your current rival the Cowboys, whom you play in seven weeks!

Sources: Redskins: A History of Washington’s Team.

Redskin’s Homepage.

Sports Encyclopedia.

Alcott's Brief, but Impressionistic Stay in Georgetown

2009-09-11T13:04:00.000-07:00

"Beds to the front of them,

Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,

Nobody blundered.

Beamed at by hungry souls,

Screamed at with brimming bowls,

Steamed at by army rolls,

Buttered and sundered.

With coffee not cannon plied,

Each must be satisfied,

Whether they lived or died;

All the men wondered."

It was to this song that matrons and nurses at the Union Hospital in Georgetown (at right) marched to. Among them was Louisa May Alcott, authoress of Little Women. When the hackney coach carrying Alcott to the northeast corner of M and 30th, NW arrived, the driver announced it as the “Hurley-Burley House.” The Union Hospital was a converted hotel, built originally in 1796. A three story building, with two parallel wings running in to the block, with a slave quarter and stable in the rear, the Hotel was one of the larger establishments in Georgetown. The building functioned as a hotel briefly in the Civil War, when nearby battles in Virginia created an influx of wounded soldiers in to Washington.

Arriving December 12, 1863 Louisa saw action a just three days later, when the first casualties from the Battle of Fredericksburg, Virginia arrived by ambulance. Over 40 ambulances arrived and, the Union Hotel had 80 beds made up for the wounded. The worst cases were treated in the hotel ballroom. By Christmas there were over 1,000 wounded Union troops convalescing in Georgetown. Alcott noted that it was not uncommon to see them hobbling on the muddy streets on crutches and peg-legs. At the makeshift hospital Alcott worked as a night nurse, where she cleaned wounds, administered medicine, changed beds, and fed soldiers. The saddest sight she saw “was the spectacle of a grey-haired father, sitting hour after hour by his son, dying from the poison of his wound. The old father, hale and hearty; the young son, past all help…I saw the son's eyes fix upon his face, with a look of mingled resignation and regret, as if endeavoring to teach himself to say cheerfully the long good bye.”

Working as a nurse in the Civil War was arduous work. Apart from long hours, in poorly ventilated conditions, nurses ate the same rations as the soldiers. Alcott dryly noted that the beef at dinner was, “evidently put down for the men of ’76.” When food was scarce, nurses at the Union Hospital often passed their rations on to the wounded men. Louisa May Alcott lasted just six weeks that winter before succumbing to typhoid fever. When she was well enough, he father collected her and brought her back to Massachusetts, her nursing days at an end.

For more on Louisa May Alcott: http://civilwarwomen.blogspot.com/2008/01/louisa-may-alcott.html.

Sources: Louisa May Alcott, Hospital Sketches (1869).

Mary Mitchell, Divided Town: A Study of Georgetown, DC During the Civil War, Massachusetts: Barre Publishers, 1968.

Picture Source: The Whitman Archive.

You too can sleep like a President, at the Hay Adams hotel

2009-08-24T22:38:00.000-07:00

Looking for a place to stay in DC? The Hay Adams hotel, directly across Lafayette Square from the White House, is one of the premier addresses in the Nation’s Capitol. The hotel is used today as a swanky site for weddings, a nice place to put up visiting diplomats, and was briefly the residence of the Obama's before the inauguration. Built in 1927 by famed DC developer Harry Wardman and his architect Mihran Mesrobian, the hotel actually sits on the site of two neighboring houses owned by statesmen John Hay and Henry Adams. (Hence – The Hay Adams hotel.)

The original Hay and Adam’s houses were commissioned by the two long time friends from famous American architect Henry Hobson Richardson, a former Harvard classmate of Adams. John Hay and Henry Adams had become close friends in 1880, and together with their wives, Marion ‘Clover’ Adams and Clara Hay, as well as their friend and director of the US Geological Survey, Clarence King, the group formed the so called ‘Five of Hearts’ club. The ‘Hearts’ were a literary society of sorts, and even went so far as to create and correspond on stationery with five playing card hearts across the top. The five were always involved in the political circle, writing anonymous political histories and satires, and in 1883 Adams convinced Hay that they should buy adjoining lots at 16th and H Streets facing Lafayette square.

Henry Hobson Richardson, who became famous for the “Richardson Romanesque” style of architecture he created, was well known for his heavy use of masonry, deep arches, steep pitched roofs, and turreted towers. In order to ensure that their homes took on characteristics of Richardson’s style without being too elaborate for a downtown DC neighborhood (Lafayette Square was entirely residential at the time) Adams, who was a good friend of Richardson’s asked that while the houses be unique, they should still remain generally within the confines of a plain square box with a flat roof. The final house cost $60,000 dollars to complete, and was, in form, a square brick building on the side of the lot at the center of H Street. The uniqueness came from some typically Richardsonian elements on the facade, including heavy arched entranceways, a beautiful arched central window at the third floor, and a series of nine small finial type windows at the fourth floor. So that the two facades would match along H Street, the houses were constructed with the same materials; red brick accented with Ohio buff sandstone around the doors and first floor windows.

Houses of John Hay and Henry Adams, circa 1884

After Adams death in 1918, his house was bought by Senator James Wadsworth and his wife Alice, who had acquired the Hay house after Clara Hay died in 1914. The Wadsworth’s leased the building to the Brazilian embassy, and in 1927 it was sold to DC developer Harry Wardman. Wardman was widely considered the most important real estate developer of the twenties, and he bought the property with intentions to raze the Richardson buildings and replace them with a Beaux Arts style apartment hotel. The city of Washington was going through an apartment house boom during the period of “Coolidge Prosperity” and the expansion of the federal government during preparations for World War I. Harry Wardman was at the forefront of this building craze, and during the 1910s and 20s he was responsible for building 4,000 houses, 12 office buildings, two clubs, two hospital annexes, two embassies, one parking garage, 400 apartment buildings, and eight hotels.

Wardman’s primary architect Mihran Mesrobian was a Turkish born architect who emigrated to American in 1921. Mesrobian had been trained in Turkey at the Academie des Beaux Arts in Istanbul, and he brought this classical building mentality to his work in Washington. Although apartment hotels at the time were favoring Tudor and Second Empire styles, as found with Washington’s famous Willard Hotel, Mesrobian felt that the Beaux Arts principles were well suited to D.C.’s tight lot sizes and height restrictions. Mesrobian also believed that the Beaux Arts association with the Italian Palazzo styles gave the residents a feeling of, “presiding in an elegant and stately building.”

Architect H.H. Richardson was himself trained at the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, and because Richardson employed Beaux Arts methods in his design, there were aspects of the original Hay and Adams façades and interiors that Mesrobian was able to emulate in his own work. Some of the artistic iron grilles Richardson had used in the original exteriors were saved and then added to replicas used in flanking the hotel’s entrance. The entrance and curved driveway off of 16th street were built in imitation of Richardson’s original plans. The homes were also designed to have a heavily rusticated base on the façade, a technique typical of Beaux Arts design done in an imitation of Italian renaissance palazzos, and Mesrobian followed suit by rusticating the hotel façade at the street level. This method of deeply cutting and distressing the stone helped Mesrobian to give the illusion of walking alongside a renaissance palace, and also helped to bring back some of the memory of the original homes.

Photo source: Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians

Sources: O’Toole, Patricia, “What they had in common was wit and friendship” Smithsonian, 21(June 1990 pg. 132-138)

Mesrobian, Caroline Isabelle, A selection of the architectural oeuvre of Mihran Mesrobian, beaux arts architect Washington DC (New Orleans, Louisiana: Tulane University, 1978, 47-58

Goode, James M, Best Addresses: a century of Washington’s distinguished apartment houses(Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, c1988)

Speaking of Georgetown...

2009-08-17T20:51:00.000-07:00

Potomac River and C&O canal in Georgetown circa 1862

Now that DC tourist season is in full swing, one of the places in the city most certain to be teeming with visitors is chic, glamorous Georgetown. Home now to elite DC residents, charming old houses, expensive restaurants, and of course – Banana Republic, the Georgetown of today is a symbol of Washington old money and power. It is however, amusing, to imagine the thoughts of the port city’s original inhabitants if they knew that their modest dwellings and butcher shops were now home to upscale boutiques and outrageously priced frozen yogurt shops. I am of course embellishing, to a point. There always were large houses on the hillside that led up from the Potomac river basin into Maryland, but the areas closest to the river – today’s K and M streets – were originally filled with the simple structures of a working port city and Washington’s only claim at a manufacturing history.

British settlers arrived in the area in 1696 and immediately drove away all of the Nacotchanke Indians who maintained a small village in the area. Perfectly situated on the river to receive and send off the shipments of Maryland and Virginia tobacco headed for the homeland (Europe), Georgetown eventually became one of the largest tobacco ports in the colonies. The town was incorporated in 1751 as part of the British colony of Maryland, and contrary to popular belief, named not for soon to be first president George Washington, but for King George II of Great Britain. (Although there is some speculation that it was possibly named for land-owners George Gordon and George Beall). The Old Stone House, the oldest house in the District of Columbia, was built during this period of Georgetown’s history, and is maintained today by the National Park Service as a rare survivor of colonial Washington.

After the American Revolution, the city was incorporated into the District of Columbia in 1791 in a deal reached at the well-known Suter’s Tavern, a frequent haunt of George Washington. The location of Suter’s Tavern is today unknown, but the most likely location is thought to be on K Street, underneath what is now the AMC movie theater. (Perhaps why they can get away with charging $20.00 for a movie and popcorn?) Shortly after, Georgetown reached an early heyday, with money pouring in from the ports and high profile DC residents like Thomas Jefferson and Francis Scott Key purchasing properties in the area. Water powered mills, producing mainly flour and other processed grain, also brought money and work into the area, including droves of slaves, who are a long forgotten part of Georgetown’s past.

The heyday was unfortunately a little short lived, as the Potomac River began to silt up (some speculate because of the increased traffic and manufacturing in the area) and merchant boats were no longer able to make it all the way up to Georgetown. The early solution to the problem was the construction of the C&O Canal, which connected the District with Harper’s Ferry in West Virginia. The success of the canal kept Georgetown afloat through most of the 19th century, but by the 1880s the problems with the river were again severe, and in 1890 a massive flood virtually destroyed all travel along the canal.

As the trade and manufacturing left, Georgetown became what can only be called a slum, with a large portion of its population consisting of the poverty stricken African American workers who had no place to go once their jobs were gone. They continued to live in cramped housing on K and M streets, and much of the structures that still remain there today - in what is now the heart of historic Georgetown – survived simply because there was no money to do anything else with them.

Meanwhile, in upper Georgetown near Rock Creek Park, luxury apartment buildings began to go up in the 1920’s and construction slowly made it’s way down towards the Potomac. In the 1930’s the area was given a new cache when President Franklin Delano Roosevelt purchased a home there. In the 1950’s a historic neighborhood association was formed to protect the area’s wealth of historic properties, and in the 1960’s Georgetown was effectively saved when John F. Kennedy, who owned a home there while serving as a Congressman, was elected President. Today the magnificent homes in Georgetown remain populated by the DC elite, and the port city-turned slum town-turned new Apple store location of K and M streets continues to attract the trade and commerce of visitors from around the world.

Photo Source: National Archives and Records Administration

Sources:

Ecker, Grace Dunlop (1933). A Portrait of Old Georgetown. Garrett & Massie, Inc..

Mitchell, Alexander D (2000). Washington DC Then and Now. Thunder Bay

Press.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/07/14/AR2006071401398.html

Everyone Blogs About Julia Child

2009-08-07T05:11:00.000-07:00

Returning from Sri Lanka after World War II, you never would have pegged Julia Child as a spy. Clandestine isn’t a word I’d use to describe someone so loud…and tall. But she was indeed employed by the Office of Strategic Services, the precursor to the CIA, as a secretary. In Southeast Asia, Julia was responsible for cataloging and registering highly classified information. It was there that she met her husband Paul Child, a mapmaker and war room designer.

The couple moved to Washington, where Paul worked as an exhibits officer for the State Department and Julia as a file clerk. The two bought a three story, white clapboard house in Georgetown. In My Life in France, Julia gives her Georgetown address as 2706 Olive Street, and as you can see from the yellow building at right it is still there. Success! I found it! The two lived in the house for two years, before heading to France—a move that would lead Julia to her destiny.

Paul and Julia returned to their Olive Street house 8 years later with several coq au vins and bourguignons under their belts. The 150 year old house was in need of some serious repair, which the Child’s took up with gusto. The kitchen, of course, was expanded to include a dishwasher. From her clapboard house, Julia conducted research on the habits of American cooks—what products they ate, where they shopped, and how measurements differed. This information would be useful for what would become Mastering the Art of French Cooking. In the spring of 1957, Julia began to teach cooking to a group of housewives in her Olive Street kitchen. She used her house as a base, from which she could travel to New York and Boston to push for the publication of her masterpiece. In 1962 Paul retired from the State Department. The two decided that while they liked Washington, they didn’t love it enough to want to live out the rest of their lives here. I imagine Paul Child’s questioning by the McCarthy Commission a few years earlier, might have tainted their opinion of this bureaucratic town. They moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts. Sadly for us Washingtonians, Julia’s Georgetown days were over. Ah well, at least we have her kitchen in the Smithsonian.

Sources: Julia Child, My Life in France, Anchor Books, June 2009.

Jailed for Freedom: Silent Sentinels

2009-07-27T13:22:00.000-07:00

Alice Paul grew up in a Quaker and was likely influenced by the early Quaker suffragists including Susan B. Anthony and Lucretia Mott. But it was during her years in England that she learned tactics to draw attention to the Votes for Women cause. At the time, British suffragists had become a militant movement. They organized mass demonstrations, threw rocks at windows, and participated in hunger strikes. Paul took all of this in and took part in these events. In 1912 Paul moved back to the United States, where she was appointed to the position of Chairmen of the Congressional Committee of the National American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA). Prior to this time the suffrage movement had been largely based in New York meeting halls, but Paul was a supporter of “Deeds not Words.” The time had come to get Women’s Rights back on the national agenda. To accomplish that she needed to move to Washington.

In 1913, the women of NAWSA organized a mass parade down Pennsylvania Avenue which coincided with Woodrow Wilson’s inauguration. The parade was led by Inez Milholland, a suffragist and labor attorney, dressed a Grecian goddess astride a white horse. It was a grand scene that stole the show from Wilson. Though the parade garnered front page media attention put the movement on the national scene, Paul left the organization to form the National Women’s Party(NWP). While NAWSA was focused on achieving suffrage on a state level, NWP believe change could only come with a constitutional amendment. Paul and her supporters engaged in a series of pickets at the White House, with signs (like the one above, left) calling the president “Kaiser Wilson” among other things. The picketers known as “Silent Sentinels” were frequently arrested and charged with “obstructing traffic.” Sentences varied from 60 days, with Paul herself receiving 7 months in the Occoquan Workhouse.

At the Occoquan Workhouse in Fairfax County, Virginia the detained women engaged in hunger strikes. The strikes led to their mistreatment and in to being force fed three times a day for three weeks. Insubordinate women were beaten by the guards; Lucy Burns, a fellow suffragist and friend of Alice Paul’s, was handcuffed to her bed with her arms above her head for a whole night. Public outrage at the prison conditions and at the treatment of the women grew. It is one thing if poor and impoverished women are imprisoned, but many of the suffragists were educated upper middle-class ladies, who (in some opinions) may have been out of their senses, did not deserve harsh treatment. Across the country women took part in the strike as a show of solidarity. In January 1918, President Wilson finally declared his support for the Right to Vote Amendment. With public support growing, the NWP (with new headquarters at 14 Jackson Place) continued its parades, pickets, and took to starting fires around Washington, DC. Frequently, the women were attacked by suffrage opponents, as well as the police. However, the tide was turning. In August 1920, Tennessee became the 36th and final state needed to ratify the 19th Amendment.

Things quieted after that. The NWP took up residency at the “Old Brick Capitol.” From their they drafted the “Equal Rights Amendment Bill,” which to this day has yet to be ratified. Known as the Sewall-Belmont house (front door at seen right), Alice Paul contintued to live and work there. The house became famous for its tea parties. The house now serves as a museum dedicated to the suffrage movement, and features artifacts from NWP’s campaign for the passage of the 19th Amendment and NWP’s feminist founder Alice Paul.

Sources: Library of Congress, American Memory: Photographs from the Records of the National Women's Party.

Tour of the Sewall-Belmont House on July 2009, http://www.sewallbelmont.org/

Through the years: The Sewall-Belmont House

2009-07-27T13:21:00.001-07:00

Tucked away near the Hart Senate Office Building lies a DC gem with significance to both the 19th and 20th centuries. Built by the Sewalls, a prominent Maryland family, in 1799 the Sewall-Belmont house is one of the earliest buildings in the capital. The home’s first resident was Secretary of the Treasury, Albert Gallatin. Secretary Gallatin was the chief negotiator for the Louisiana Purchase as well as the Treaty of Ghent ending the War of 1812. In fact, it was during the War of 1812 that the house was set afire by British troops as they invaded the Capital City in 1814. Story has it that Americans from inside the house shot British General Ross’s horse out from under him as he passed by. The British set fire to the house in retaliation; it was the only private residence burnt in Washington during the invasion. While the Sewall family sought reimbursement from Congress for damages during the battle, no payment was ever granted.

The house, eventually repaired, passed through the rest of the 19th century as a popular residence for Congressman and cabinet members. In 1929 the house came under the ownership of the National Women’s Party, the militant suffragist group. The house now serves as a museum dedicated to the suffrage movement, and features artifacts from NWP’s campaign for the passage of the 19th Amendment and NWP’s feminist founder Alice Paul. More on the suffragists later...

Church-going Presidents Part II

2009-07-22T13:06:00.000-07:00

First Baptist Church (1328 16th Street)
-Harry S Truman
-Jimmy Carter

Foundry United Methodist Church (16th and Church Streets)
-Bill Clinton

House of Representatives (Capitol Hill)
I find it amusing that Jefferson, who was a big proponent of the separation of church and state, authorized worship services in the Capitol.
-Thomas Jefferson

Immanuel-on-the-Hill (3606 Seminary Road, Alexandria)
-Gerald Ford

National City Christian Church (Thomas Circle)
-Lyndon B. Johnson

National Presbyterian Church (Connecticut Avenue and 18th, near N Street)
-James K. Polk

St. John’s Episcopal Church (Lafayette Square, pictured above)

-Martin Van Buren
-George Bush
-George W. Bush

St. Patrick Catholic Church (G Street, between 9th and 10th Streets)
Though Andrew Johnson had no religious affiliation, he was often seen at Roman Catholic services at this parish. Church pastor, Father Jacob Walter, was outspoken in his defense of Mary Surratt, a parishioner who was charged as an accomplice in Abraham Lincoln’s assassination. After she was found guilty, Father Walters stood by her at her execution
-Andrew Johnson

White House (white building on Lafayette Square)
Nixon opted to hold Sunday services at the White House. The services were frequently led by Rev. Billy Graham.
-Richard Nixon

So that leaves us with 2nd President John Adams. I have not been able to come up with a worship location for Adams, and this could have several explanations. For one, Adams was a Unitarian. As a new religion, there were not many locations for worship in the new Capitol. This brings us to the second point that Adams being the first president to live in the White House in a newly created city, found his worshipping options greatly limited (Alexandria and Georgetown were more developed as trading centers).

Thanks to Ian, for helping with the research!

Help find Tom

2009-07-20T13:23:00.000-07:00

WaPo writer John Kelly picked up a story about a Burning Quest to Find a Monument to Tom. As America transitioned to the automobile, the need for horse drawn fire-brigades were no longer necessary. In the 1930s the DC Fire Department commissioned a sculpture in honor of the last horse to serve in the Fire Department. The trouble is no one knows where the sculpture is today. Read the article, and learn about the quest to find this missing monument.

Church-going Presidents

2009-07-17T14:21:00.000-07:00

While St. John’s Episcopal Church might carry the title “Church of the Presidents,” there have been several other houses of worship frequented by presidents over the years. Following a suggestion from a TMS reader, I have found a list of the Presidents’ churches around town. Co-editor Ian suggested that I write a joke for each entry. The best I came up with was: Herbert Hoover was a Quaker; he needed all the Friends he could get. [insert copious laughter and applause] Thank you very much. I’ll be here all night.

On second thought, I may be better off sticking to the facts. Below is the list, and I’ve selected a few to say something about. Not all the churches still survive, such as The National Presbyterian Church, but there is still a good amount. If you are visiting DC, stop by St. John’s as it is newly restored. Lincoln’s church is not far off from Ford’s Theatre, so check that out too!

All Soul’s Church (16th and Harvard Streets)
-John Quincy Adams
-Millard Fillmore
-William Howard Taft

Calvary Baptist Church (8th and H Streets)
-Warren G. Harding

Central Presbyterian Church (16th and Irving Streets)
-Woodrow Wilson

Christ Church (North Washington Street, Alexandria)
-George Washington

First Baptist Church (16th and O Streets)
-Harry Truman

First Congregational Church (10th and G Streets)
-Calvin Coolidge

Foundry Methodist Church (16th and Church Streets)
This congregation was originally located in Georgetown. After the British attacked Washington, a resident Henry Foxall donated the land which contained an iron foundry that survived the attack to the congregation. It later moved to 14th and G Streets before finding a home on 16th Street. (At left)
-Rutherford B. Hayes

Friends Meeting (2111 Florida Avenue)
-Herbert Hoover

Grace Reformed Church (15th and O Streets)
-Theodore Roosevelt

Holy Trinity Roman Catholic Church (36th Street between N and O Streets)
-John F. Kennedy

Metropolitan Memorial Methodist Church (Nebraska and New Mexico Avenues)
-William McKinley
-Ulysses S. Grant

National City Christian Church (Thomas Circle)
This congregation formed in 1819 with 7 people. The initial location was on M Street between 8th and 9th. By the time President Garfield began worshipping there, the church had moved to a larger location on Vermont Avenue. The current church on Thomas Circle was built in 1929 in order to accommodate a growing congregation. (At right)
-James A. Garfield

The National Presbyterian Church (Connecticut Avenue and 18th, near N Street)
-Andrew Jackson
-James Buchanan
-Grover Cleveland
-Benjamin Harrison
-Dwight Eisenhower

New York Avenue Presbyterian Church (New York Avenue and H Street)
Built in 1859, this church was the favorite place of worship for Abraham Lincoln, who would stroll from the White House down H Street to pray and reflect silently in the Lincoln Pew. The congregation’s legers and records include a sad note from the president saying that he had donated $5 to the church’s Sunday School. It was the amount found on Willie, Lincoln’s son, when he died of typhoid fever.
-Abraham Lincoln

St. John’s Episcopal Church (Lafayette Square, near the Hay Adams Hotel)
-James Madison
-James Monroe
-William Henry Harrison
-John Tyler
-Zachary Taylor
-Franklin Pierce
-Chester A. Arthur

St. Thomas Episcopal Church (18th and Church Streets)
Built in 1899, all that remains of this gothic style church is the skeleton of the stone structure and some ruins. The church catered to high society until after World War II, when white families left the city. During the Vietnam Protests, St. Thomas served as a shelter for protester and a sanctuary from the tear gas on Dupont Circle. The original church was burnt in an act of arson in 1970. The parish turned the surviving walls of the church in to a memorial park, and built a new church off the back of it. (At left)
-Franklin D. Roosevelt

You’ll notice that this is an incomplete list. It excludes more recent presidents, and where is Thomas Jefferson? Rumor has it he attended a church in SE Washington. I’m looking in to it and will report back.

Sources: Anna Olga Jones, Churches of the Presidents in Washington, Exposition Press, 1961.

Foundry United Methodist Church.

National City Christian Church.

St. Thomas' Parish.

Frank Like Alice

2009-07-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

“If you can’t say something good about someone, sit right here by me.” –Alice Roosevelt Longworth, from the sitting room of her Dupont Circle home

In a time when women were just finding their voices, Alice Roosevelt proved to be one outspoken, dashing, limelight-seeking, stubborn woman. (Alice at left in 1902, in one of her signature hats)

Learning of President McKinley’s assassination, Alice and the other Roosevelt children danced a wild jig. The White House was theirs! Alice was at home in Washington right away, taking up a bedroom in the Northwest corner of the White House looking out at the affluent Lafayette Square. She had moved in just as she was about to cast childhood aside and take on her role as a woman in late Victorian society. One of the first big events at for the Roosevelt family was her debutante ball in 1901. Alice was ready for a party, yet was crushed when she realized that being the First Daughter was not all fun and games. Perhaps to assuage a growing temperance movement, Alice’s stepmother Edith chose to serve punch instead champagne at the ball, much to Alice’s mortification. But despite this hurdle for poor Alice, there was plenty of other fun to be had around town.

I confess that when I started reading about Alice, I was hoping to learn about a strong woman ahead of her time, who broke through gender barriers at every turn. In some ways she was just that. She drove around town in a $2500 “red devil” sports car in an age where women were not to be driving. She bet money on horses and played poker, when most women played bridge.

I had hoped that Alice would be a diplomat, working behind the scenes, like her cousin Eleanor Roosevelt. But in fact, she was more concerned about the publicity. When Kaiser Wilhelm II visited DC, she practiced smashing champagne bottles in the backyard of the White House, for she had been invited to christen the Kaiser’s new ship.

Frankly, I find her shallow. She fretted terribly over the parties she would attend and resented the White House secretary for handling her correspondence, a major hindrance to her youthful flirtations. She often stared at herself in the mirror, comparing herself to the Gibson Girl pictures of her in the press. She married Congressman Nick Longworth (for which Longworth HOB is named), publicly criticized him when he supported the Taft presidency, and cheated on him with Senator William Borah’s son (with whom she had a child, Paulina).

In her defense, when Senator Joseph McCarthy greeted her in the 1950s with, “How are you, Alice?” she famously looked him dead in the eye and replied, “No, Senator McCarthy, you are not going to call me Alice. The truckman, the trashman, and the policeman on the block may call me Alice but you may not.” Okay, so maybe I admire her a little…

Sources: Stacy A. Cordery, Alice.

Carol Felsenthal, Alice Roosevelt Longworth.

The Major majorly loses it...and with good reason

2009-07-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

You’re standing outside 8 Jackson Place, when suddenly you hear footsteps and Wait! Was that a woman’s voice? How can it be, there’s no one standing around you? You, the tourist, quickly consult your DC guide book. Aha there it is! 8 Jackson Place—the Rathbone House—former home of Major Henry Rathbone, who shot his wife and stabbed himself. They say the place is haunted!

Major Rathbone is most famous for having been in the box at Ford’s Theatre the fateful night President Lincoln was shot. Rathbone’s fiancée Clara Harris was a close friend of the Mary Todd, and after General Grant could not make it to the play, Harris and Rathbone accompanied the Lincoln’s to the viewing of Our American Cousin. It was Rathbone who witnessed Booth entering the box, and it was he who made a grab at Booth, suffering a slash across the chest from Booth’s knife. Clara Harris soon found her dress covered in Rathbone’s blood.

Though our favorite president met this end, Rathbone recovered. The couple married in 1867 and eventually had children. Recovered in body Major Rathbone, never fully recovered in spirit. He blamed himself for failing to prevent Lincoln’s assassination. He suffered headaches and grew paranoid that his wife and children would leave them. His condition forced him to resign his commission in the army and take his family to Europe in search for a cure.

Early on Christmas Eve morning in 1883, Rathbone entered his wife’s bedroom fully dressed in a suit. He asked for the children. Clara pointed out the early hour. Rathbone took out a revolver and shot his wife. He then stabbed himself with a knife six times. His wife quickly died and was buried in Hanover, but the tortured Henry survived yet again. He was placed in an asylum in Germany and spent the rest of his days shouting about people in the conspiring to get him. The US Consul in Germany declared him “hopelessly insane.” Rathbone died in 1911, and was buried next to Clara with little fanfare. Incidentally, his son went on to become a member of the House of Representatives representing the great state of Illinois.

As to whether or not the Rathbone house is haunted, I’ll leave it to you to decide. Personally though, I find it difficult to believe that the ghosts of the Rathbones would cross the Atlantic Ocean and take residency there. It would be a chilly swim… even for a ghost.

Sources: Doris Kearns Goodwin, Team of Rivals.

Michael E. Ruane, “A Tragedy’s Second Act,” The Washington Post, page W14 (April 5, 2009).

Gene Smith, “The Haunted Major,” American Heritage, February/ March 1994, Vol 45 Issue 1.

Sisters, Sisters

2009-06-29T14:32:00.000-07:00

Though the Pearl Incident is not widely remembered in US History, it had profound consequences for both the slaves involved and for the abolitionist movement. In particular, it influenced the lives of two slaves, a preacher, and one feisty authoress: Mary Edmonson, Emily Edmonson, Henry Ward Beecher, and Harriet Beecher Stowe.

The Edmonson sisters (At Left: Mary and Emily), Mary (1832-1853) and Emily (1835-1895), were 15 and 13 years old when they attempted escape aboard the Pearl with four of their brothers. Born in Maryland, Mary and Emily were both of fair complexion (a very desirable quality for female slaves), and as a consequence they had been hired out as house servants in Washington. Learning of the planned escape on the Pearl by other slaves, the Edmonson siblings decided the time was right to make their escape. As we know (see previous post), the slaves aboard the Pearl were captured and returned to the District. Their fate was to be sold, and live out a grueling life in the disease ridden swamps of the Deep South.

In Alexandria, the Bruin & Hill Company located on 1707 Duke Street, purchased the two sisters and their four brothers for $4500. Paul Edmonson, a freeman and father of the six Edmonsons aboard the Pearl, scrambled to find the money to purchase his children before they left for New Orleans. Joseph Bruin went around town boasting that he would make $1800 a piece for Mary and Emily. It became apparent that Bruin intended to sell the beautiful fair skinned sisters as mistresses or sex slaves in the popular New Orleans “fancy trade.” After all, the value of a young female slave at the time was closer to $600-800, only those in the “fancy trade” would sell for higher. Local abolitionists were appalled; they and along with Paul Edmondson worked to raise $1000 per sister. But Bruin wouldn’t sell; why accept $1000 when you could get $1800?

The money wasn’t raised in time. The brig carrying the Edmonsons arrived in New Orleans on June 14, 1848. They were held at a slave pen, and forced as fancy women to stand in the front windows to attract potential buyers. The sisters were poked and prodded and subjected to lewd comments from buyers. Fortunately, their luck changed as a yellow fever epidemic broke out in New Orleans. Fearing a loss in profit from the wrath of the disease, Bruin & Hill had the sisters shipped back to Baltimore. With assurance from Bruin that he would reduce the price of Mary and Emily’s freedom to $2500, Paul Edmonson went about raising money for their release. Hearing of their plight in Brooklyn, Henry Ward Beecher and his congregation took action to raise funds as well. Beecher spoke out on the horrors of slaves sold into prostitution by “human flesh-dealers of Christian girls.” His blistering sermons had women donating jewelry and men outbidding each other to donate to the increasingly popular abolitionist cause. By November the money had been raised, and the sisters were freed.

Rejoicing in their freedom, Mary and Emily travelled to New York to join a circuit of abolitionist speakers as celebrity guests. At rallies, Beecher spoke on the need for education for African-American and appealed to the audience to donate money to educate the girls. Mary and Emily told their story to large audiences and participated in mock slave auctions in attempt to further stir sympathy from Northerners.

Where is the feisty authoress in all of this? Ms. Stowe was Henry Ward’s sister, and in being so, she was well aware of the plight of the Edmonsons. In her book, Key to Uncle Tom’s Cabin, she cited the Edmonsons and their escape on the Pearl as inspiration for Uncle Tom’s Cabin--a book some credit with sparking the Civil War. Stowe intervened in the lives of the Edmonsons and had the sisters sent to Oberlin College, the first college to accept African-Americans. Sadly, Mary died of tuberculosis not long after her arrival at Oberlin. Distraught, Emily returned to Washington to be closer to her family and continued her studies at the Normal School for Colored Girls near Dupont Circle. She remained active in the abolitionist cause.

Sources: Josephine F. Pacheco, The Pearl: A Failed Escape on the Potomac.

Mary Kay Ricks, Escape on the "Pearl".

Duel of the Month Club: John F. Sherburne v. Daniel Key

2009-06-24T10:08:00.000-07:00

At age 19, Daniel Key, son of Francis Scott Key, was a midshipman in the Navy. While on tour, Daniel had a dispute with fellow midshipman John F. Sherburne, the son of the former Register of the Navy. In a letter written to the Memphis Avalanche, witness to the duel Thomas Mattingly recalled that Sherburne was serving on the ship, while Key –a troublesome youngster—was merely a passenger on the ship after having been arrested on his frigate Brandywine for insubordination. On board Key developed a strong disliking for Sherburne and would go to great lengths to anger him. Reaching Norfolk, Virginia Key was held on bond in order to keep the peace. After his release, Key and his father went to Baltimore to argue his case in front of the Naval Board. With his father as district attorney of the Circuit Court in DC, Key got off without punishment, and the two returned to Washington.

Also returning to Washington was John Sherburne. When the two midshipmen learned of each other’s presence, tensions escalated. Around June 15th or 16th Sherburne demanded a duel, to which Key replied, “Sherburne is a damned scoundrel, and I will not meet him.” But after a few minutes to compose himself, Key agreed to a duel, provided it be done quickly.

The stage was set; the duel would take place that evening at 6:00 pm in Bladensburg, Maryland (recall that dueling was illegal within the District). The dueling grounds are pictured above. The two agreed on pistols as their weapons, and stood ten short paces apart. They fired. After the smoke cleared, it became apparent that both shooters had missed their mark. Key exclaimed, “Where did my ball go to; God damn it, load up quick and let us have another shot!” Sherburne complied, the two reloaded, and at twilight the command was given to fire again. This time Key was struck on the lower right side of his chest, he lived twenty minutes longer before dying where he fell. Sherburne escaped unharmed.

Key’s body was returned to his father’s C Street house between 13th and 14th Streets. The scene there was one of agony and profound grief. Francis Scott had lost his eldest son. The Knickerbocker (a New York Magazine at the time) remarked on the duel saying, “We know how to appreciate such a scene, for we know its counterpart—a mother bending in speechless agony of heart over the dead body of an only son, murdered in cool blood…The life, however, of a successful duelist, is a curse to himself. His punishment goes with him, in every step he takes in his journey to the grave.” Let that be a lesson to duelists.

Sources: The Knickerbocker (or New-York Monthly Magazine), vol. VIII , New York: Clark and Edson, 1836.

Thomas Mattingly, "Duel between midshipmen Key and Sherburne," from the Memphis Avalanche, printed in the New York Times, April 23, 1859.

A Petition in Boots

2009-06-19T12:53:00.000-07:00

Unemployment was everywhere. In places like Michigan, over 43% of the work force was jobless. Caused by market speculation, the Panic of 1893 led to a shortage of cash. Families were going hungry, and the conditions weren’t getting better. In Massillon, Ohio Jacob Coxey witnessed the poverty around him. A populist and a successful business owner, Coxey was also a self-made man, who at age 16 worked in the iron mills. To combat the economic depression, Coxey called on the federal government to build modern roads and community buildings and employ the unemployed to build them.

Coxey was joined by frontiersman and free-lance journalist Carl Browne. The odd couple, one a straight-laced businessman and the other a rough and tumble cowboy, needed to raise awareness for their cause. Browne proposed a march on Washington. It would be he declared, “A petition in boots!” They would call themselves the “Commonweal of Christ” (see above right: at camp) and thousands of the unemployed would join them along their march from Massillon to Washington, DC. On the steps of the Capitol they would call for sweeping legislation that would employ thousands and get the economy back on track. It would be glorious! Akin to the Second Coming!

Their expedition was sensationalized by the national press, who was struggling to report on the human effects of the depression—covering stock markets and unemployment rates was dull and frankly, it was depressing. Readers wanted excitement and humor! When Coxey and Browne left Massillon on March 25, the Commonweal of Christ had just 100 followers. Throughout their trip the two leaders struggled to make their protest look respectable. Their parade was led by African-American man, named Jasper Johnson, who carried the American Flag, followed by a marching band. Coxey, his wife, and Legal Tender, his newborn son—I would not want to be this kid at recess—rode behind in a horse-drawn carriage (at left: Coxey and his son, Little Legal Tender). The media immediately dubbed them as Coxey’s Army, and mocked it was an army of cranks, vagrants, and tramps.

Hearing reports of the march’s progress, Congress and Federal authorities watched from afar, skeptical that the protest would reach the Capitol but preparing for it in any case. This would be the first march on Washington in history and it raised questions regarding freedom of speech and assembly. Do citizens have the right to use the Capitol grounds as public space, as a forum for debate? Not in 1894. Both parties in Congress fully supported the Metropolitan Police’s decision to allow Coxey’s Army to march down Pennsylvania Avenue, but to halt them at the Capitol and forbid them to enter the grounds.

Coxey’s Army reached camp at Bladensburg, Maryland in the last week of April. They were ready to protest on May 1st. The day before the march over 6,000 people visited their camp to hear speeches from Coxey and Browne. On May Day, Coxey’s Army, now 500 strong, entered the District and marched to the Capitol. There they were met by police, who reminded them that it was illegal to enter the grounds. As a distraction, Browne and a supporter jumped over a low wall and began running across the lawn. Browne was immediately swarmed by the police, clubbed, and taken away. At the same, Coxey climbed 5 steps at the Capitol and began to give his speech. A police officer shoed him off the steps and escorted him back to his carriage. The protesters returned to camp.

The next day Coxey attended the bail hearing for Browne. At the hearing both men were arrested and charged with carrying banners illegally. In fact their “banners” were 3 by 2 inch lapel pins. They were also charged with walking on the grass at the Capitol. They received a 20 day prison sentence with a $5 fine. Their loyal followers waited anxiously in camps around the district. Conditions in the camps were difficult as the men soon ran out of food and took to begging on the streets. By the time of their release, support for Coxey’s army had dwindled. The press was focused on the Pullman Riots in Chicago. Jacob Coxey returned to Ohio to run for Congress (he didn’t win). Carl Browne continued to speak on the rights of man, becoming increasingly socialist. In 1913, at age 64, he was often seen standing on a soapbox on 10th and Pennsylvania, preaching to any who would listen. He was considered a crackpot.

Though Coxey’s Army failed to achieve its goal, it marked a significant turning point in U.S. democracy. It established the city of Washington as a place where public protest could get substantial media attention. Marching on Washington became a form of political expression. Later in the year of 1894, the suffragists would borrow Coxey’s tactics and march in Washington themselves; their protest was better received by the media.

In popular culture we remember Coxey’s Army for the role it played L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Considered an allegory for the Gold Standard and Populism, Dorothy, the Scarecrow (farmer), the Tin Man (industry), and the Cowardly lion (political leader) follow the yellow brick road to Oz (aka...you got it!... Washington). So what do you think? Are those group of four misfits representative of Coxey's Army?

Sources: Lucy G. Barber, Marching on Washington.

"Coxey's Army Dwindling Away". New York Times (May 11). 1894.

Politics, Politics

2009-06-18T18:16:00.000-07:00

It turns out that four hundred years ago, Captain John Smith was the first (recorded) European to cruise up the Potomac. In doing so, he met lots of Native American tribes. The first lived on the south bank of the river, and down Chesapeake Bay. These Indians were part of the Powhatan Confederacy, with whom Europeans had been in contact for some time. Powhatan himself was suspicious of the English, and had (according to Smith, anyway) laid an ambush for the explorer on the banks of the Potomac. The intended attackers, however, did a poor job concealing themselves, and when Smith called them on their ruse, they came out, confessed that they had meant to attack the English, and went on their way.

Continuing up the river, Smith found that the other tribes he encountered were friendly without trying to kill him first. These Indians, on the north bank between the Potomac and Chesapeake Bay, were the Piscataway. Smith came to understand that these Native Americans were friendly for a reason: not only was the Powhatan Confederacy pressing north onto their side of the river, but the Susquehannocs upriver were aggressive as well. As such, the Piscataway, wedged as they were between two expansionist tribes, were anxious to find allies in their struggle along the banks of the Potomac.

Smith did not fail to make note of this, and thus it was that the English settlers of the region landed on Piscataway land. Aiding the Piscataway, the English colonists made enemies, but had the friendly tribes as a sort of buffer between them and the hostile Susquehannocs to the north. When Powhatan died, chaos in the region ensued, and the colonists supported a range of tribes, most of whom were warring with each other in the aftermath of the disintegration of Powhatan's Confederacy. Thus, the colonists effectively manipulated the shifting political balance of the region in order to keep the surrounding tribes weak as they adjusted to the land and grew stronger.

Political turmoil must flow along the Potomac.

Oh, by the way, the Potomac is named not after any one Native American tribe, but after the nature of the region. Situated at the confluence of a river that flowed past mountains, forest, and valleys alike, the settlers were among Indians who valued trade. The word, "potomac" was Algonquin (the root language of all the area's Indians) for "something brought," as in "something brought to be traded."

Source: Frederick Gutheim, The Potomac (New York: Rinehart & Company, Inc., 1949), 21-31.
Image Source: http://thinkorthwim.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/06/jamestown-map.png

Attempted Exodus

2009-06-10T14:23:00.000-07:00

It turns out the largest attempted escape along the Underground Railroad occurred by sea rather than land. On Saturday, April 15, 1848 seventy-six slaves left their owner’s homes in Washington and attempted to gain their freedom by stowing away on a schooner named the Pearl.

The group’s conductor was Daniel Drayton, who was a bit of a zealot, drifter, and abolitionist. For urban slaves, who in general lived a relatively more comfortable life by being employed as domestic servants and skilled labor, the biggest fear was being “sold South” to New Orleans or Natchez. There, in the Deep South, grueling days in the heat of the cotton fields coupled with a higher occurrence of disease led to a decreased life expectancy. Learning of the plight of a slave family about to be separated and sold South, Drayton travelled to Philadelphia to seek out a boat that could ferry the family to freedom. At the docks he met a ship pilot named Edward Sayres, who having no cargo to haul, agreed to sail from Philadelphia to DC and back for the low sum of $100.

Sayres and Drayton, along with the cook Chester English arrived in Washington on April 13th. After selling a load of wood at the 7th Street docks, the Pearl sailed a little further down the Potomac to a place called “White-house Wharf,” which was known to be more secluded than an open dock. Shortly after sunset slaves, hearing of the departing ship by word of mouth, boarded the schooner. They came from all over the city. Among them was a house maid owned by former first lady Dolley Madison.

With a full cargo hold, the Pearl attempted to set sail, however, the Potomac is a tidal river below the Great Falls. Unable to fight the current, the Pearl was forced to anchor near Alexandria. They were loosing precious time; their masters in Washington would soon notice their disappearance. As daylight broke, they were able to sail out toward the Chesapeake. Though the Pearl made progress, luck was not with them. A storm with great winds forced them to weigh anchor yet again, this time at Cornfield Harbor, just above Point Lookout, Maryland.

Back in Washington, the alarm had been raised by church time on Sunday morning. A posse organized to find the missing slaves and set sail to catch the slaves on the Salem, a steamer. Around 2:00 am on Monday morning, passengers on the Pearl heard the blow of a steamer’s whistle. The game was up, the posse had found them. Boarding the Pearl, the posse proclaimed their discovery shouting, “Niggers, by God!” The escaped slaves considered fighting, but they were unarmed and to resist was futile. All passengers aboard the Pearl, were bound and transferred to the Salem.

As the Salem passed Alexandria, crowds on shore cheered to see the captured slaves on the decks. They were greeted at the 7th Street docks, by throngs of people calling for beatings and lynching—particularly the lynching of Drayton. Paraded through the streets, several of the captured slaves wept, but proclaimed that they did not regret their attempt at freedom. The captives were placed in the jail at Judiciary Square, their fates uncertain. Bail for each slave was set at $1,000. For Drayton, Sayres, and English bail was set at $76,000, a nearly insurmountable sum at the time.

After a time, owners of the slaves conferred. It was agreed that all slaves would be sold South. The very fate the runaways feared most had now come to fruition. Families were separated, and not much is known about them once the slaves were sent to New Orleans (The exception to this is the Edmondson sisters, who deserve a posting of their own, so I’ll save their story for another time). English, who had no knowledge of the plot prior to the departure of the schooner from DC, was released. Drayton and Sayres got off relatively easy, considering they could have been hanged. Appeals of their conviction reduced their sentences, and the two were imprisoned for failure to come up with the money for their fines. After four years in prison, abolitionist Senator Charles Sumner appealed to President Fillmore to pardon the men. Both were released in 1852.
But wait! There’s more. After all, how did the posse know to look for the runaways by sea? Especially when escape by land was much more probable? The answer to this may lie with a hack driver. Judson Diggs was a free man of color, who reportedly gave word of the escape plans in exchange for money. Whether or not he was actually the informant has been disputed, but in any case a group of young black men found him after the escape in a square bounded by L, M, 18th Streets and Connecticut Avenue. In anger, the men forced Diggs from the cart, rolled him in to a nearby stream (now actually running beneath the pavement) and stoned him. Surviving the encounter, Diggs was shunned by the black community for the rest of his life.

Sources: Daniel Drayton, Personal Memoir of Daniel Drayton.

Josephine F. Pacheco, The Pearl: A Failed Escape on the Potomac.

Mary Kay Ricks, Escape on the "Pearl".

Picture Source: Northern Illinois University, "Slave Auction," Abraham Lincoln Historical Digitization Project.

Office Space

2009-06-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

**This one is dedicated to my coworkers. **

The building (at right c. 1936) located at 1350 Connecticut Avenue, NW was designed by Mirhan Mesrobian. Originally used as apartment space, the building converted to offices in 1942. The building is considered to be Moderne in style and features art deco embellishments on the outside.

The architect was an Armenian born immigrant, who moved to the United States and served as an in-house designer for real estate developer Henry Waldman. Other notable Mesrobian designs around Washington include the Hay-Adams Hotel and Sedgwick Gardens.

And that's about all I got on this building...feel free to comment if you have more info on Mesrobian or 1350 Connecticut.

Another Cane Beating, This Time By a Cave Dweller

2009-06-02T14:39:00.000-07:00

“Not many huge fortunes were ever made in Washington, but a great many made elsewhere were spent there” – David Brinkley

With social status depending on presidential administrations, appointments, and elections, Washington Society has never been conducive toward an “Old-money” crowd. That said, someone had to build the city, and though they are an elusive and restrictive bunch, I’ve found them.

Known as the “Cave Dwellers” due to their invisibility around town, these permanent establishment types made their homes in the Kalorama neighborhood of northwest DC. It was an isolated neighborhood; residents had their chauffeurs take them around town and their children attended private schools. When we see street signs in DC, it’s these characters for which they are named. Many of the Cave Dwellers descended from the original families in the area, dating back to 1634. DC was on their land, and they considered themselves to be caretakers of the federal government and the nation by extension.

Long used to having a say in government, President of the Riggs National Bank Charles Glover—of the Glover Park Glovers—used to walk across Pennsylvania Avenue to discuss financial affairs with the Secretary of the Treasury. Truth be told, he was such a common sight that the Secretary gave him a desk in the building. In 1915 a new comptroller ordered the desk removed, believing it bad federal policy for a private banker to have a personal desk at the Treasury building. This did not go over well with Charles Glover, who walked up to the comptroller and hit him on the head with his cane.

The event signaled the removal of Cave Dwellers from government affairs. The final nail in the coffin was the arrival of FDRs New Dealers, seen as young, idealistic, academic, social workers, guilty of wearing the wrong colored shoe at dinner. The Washington families wanted nothing to do with the “communist” New Dealers, and in turn the New Dealers were happy to avoid the “fascist” Cave Dwellers. Oh sure, the Cave Dwellers could still be seen at the Metropolitan or the Chevy Chase Country Club, but after the 30s, the Cave Dwellers mainly kept to themselves. And from what I hear, they still do. But then, I can’t say I’ve ever seen them.

And on a final note I'd like to ask what is it with Washingtonians and politicians hitting each other with canes in this city? I probably should have posted this under the Duel of the Month Club...

Sources: David Brinkley, Washington Goes to War.

Gregor Dallas, 1945.

Randall Bennett Woods, Fullbright: A Biography.

All aboard!

2009-05-27T14:12:00.000-07:00

Union Station, circa 1969

There are several major turning points in the history of architecture. When the Romans discovered concrete, when the recipe for concrete somehow got lost in the dark ages, when they rediscovered concrete, and when Chicago hosted the World's Columbian Exposition in 1893. In a world that was obsessed with opulence and drapery, the streamlined clean lines of the Fair's buildings spawned a whole new generation of thinking about cities and building design. Set into an inspired landscape designed by Frederick Law Olmstead, the Exposition's enormous structures harkened back to Classical styles, and their white plaster finishes gave the fairgrounds the nickname of "The White City". The fair was a raging success and had an even more spectacular finish when its temporary structures all but burned to the ground in 1894. Regardless, the history of building was forever altered.

The finest example of this style of Beaux-Arts inspired design in Washington (and actually in the United States as a whole) is Union Station, constructed by none other than Daniel Burnham himself, the lead architect of the Chicago Fair. The station was completed in 1908 at a time when the train was king (having experienced a recent major growth in popularity as the most convenient way to access the Chicago Fair) and the train station (not I-395) was seen as the gateway to the city. When the McMillian Commission, of which Burnham was a part, was established as part of a city beautification in 1901, it was immediately decided that the train tracks that crossed through the National Mall should be removed and replaced with a more significant station elsewhere.

Burnham intended for this main train station to be nothing short of monumental. Thought of as the "vestibule of the capital", the completed building had the largest footprint in the United States, and for a time, was the largest train station in the world. The space for such a massive building was carved out of an area once known as "Swampoodle," a shantytown located on the swamp like remains of Tiber Creek north of the Capitol.

In true Beaux Arts fashion, Burnham turned to the majesty of the Roman Empire when looking for references for Union Station. The central pavilion is a tribute to the Arch of Constantine, and the main interior takes its design from the massive Baths of Diocletian. The general waiting room, now the main lobby of the building, was an impressive 120 feet wide by 219 feet long. There were no short cuts on the materials used in this grand space, 70 pounds of 22-karat gold leaf were ordered to embellish the coffers in the 96-foot barrel-vaulted ceilings. The central exterior pavilion is covered in white Vermont granite, and atop the six massive exterior columns are Louis Saint-Gaudens sculptures representing Fire, Electricity, Freedom, Imagination, Agriculture, and Mechanics.

At 760 feet long and 130 feet wide, the grand concourse at the back of the station extended the entire length of the structure and allowed direct access to all trains. In it's heyday, approximately 285 trains on 32 tracks carried about 30,000 passengers in and out of Union Station on a daily basis. But the station did more than just move people from place to place. As a monumental entry into Washington the station housed such entertainment facilities as a YMCA, a hotel, liquor store, Turkish baths, and a first-class restaurant, and at various times was also home to a baker, butcher, ice house, mortuary, nursery, police station, and a silver-monogramming shop.

As with most train stations in the U.S., as other modes of travel became more prevalent and railways fell into a decline, Union Station entered a period of disuse and neglect. The station was closed in 1978 and eventually, in a horrifying turn of fate, water damage caused parts of the gold gilded roof to cave in and toadstools began to grow in the grand interior. Thankfully, in 1981, Congress enacted the Union Station Redevelopment Act which helped establish a plan for a building overhaul. After a three year renovation valued at $160 million dollars, the station was reopened as a transportation hub, a retail center, and a museum. Today, restored to its former glory and frequented by over 32 million visitors each year, Union Station continues to be a major part of Washington DC life.

Columbus Circle in front of Union Station, Courtesy of Christine Ruffo

Sources:

Union Station History, http://www.unionstationdc.com/history.aspx

National Park Service, Department of the Interior. National Register Nomination, 3/24/1969. http://pdfhost.focus.nps.gov/docs/NRHP/Text/69000302.pdf

Photo Sources:

Union Station Photo: National Park Service, Department of the Interior. National Register Nomination, 3/24/1969. http://nrhp.focus.nps.gov/natregsearchresult.do?fullresult=true&recordid=0

Columbus Circle photo: Christine Ruffo. Visit http://cruffo.etsy.com/ to see and purchase more images of Washington DC!

Bocks, Brews, and Ale

2009-05-27T10:47:00.001-07:00

Politics isn’t the only thing brewed in Washington. In 1873, German immigrant Christian Heurich purchased the old Schnell Brewery and Tavern on 1229 20th Street, NW and began the Christian Heurich Brewing Company. Within 10 years, he had become the largest brewer in Washington. After 3 accidental fires caused by sparks and malt explosions, Heurich moved his brewery to 26th and D Street (pictured above, now the Kennedy Center) in 1895, constructing the first fireproof brewery. Heurich relied heavily on German labor and artisans for the construction of the new brewery complex. The brewery featured living quarters for employees, a bottling factory, and an ice plant. At the same time, Heurich built a mansion for himself and his wife near Dupont Circle. Known as the Brewmaster’s Castle, the house is now open to tourists. The house features 31 rooms, furnished in the Victorian style.

Heurich became one of DC’s elite businessmen, the second largest landholder in the District (the first being the federal government), and the largest private employer in the area. The brewery maintained a continued presence in DC even during the prohibition years, when Heurich relied on the ice plant for income. After prohibition ended, Heurich successfully returned to the beer business, marketing his products under the Senate Beer label. Alas, low taxes which allowed for outside producers to dump cheap beer on DC and the growth of mass producers such as Budweiser and Pabst, led to the decline of the company. In an effort to boost sales, Heurich (who ran his brewery until his death at age 105) released a label called Old Georgetown Ale. Though this brew was met with short-term success, it was not enough to save the brewery. The board of directors opted to close the brewery before it started to see losses in 1956.

Amusingly, the government had a rather difficult time demolishing the brewery in the early 1960s. Heurich built the factory to be strong and withstand fire. Initial attempts to destroy it with dynamite failed. In the end, only a wrecking ball through the ice house walls, lined with twelve inch thick cork walls, succeeded.

Sources: Christian Heurich House Museum.

Hasia R. Diner and Steven J. Diner, “Washington’s Jewish Community: Separate but not Apart,” in Ed. Francine Curro Cary, Washington Odyssey.

Rusty Cans, Christian Heurich.

The Poetry of Presidential Wit

2009-05-22T18:15:00.000-07:00

So, I've been on kind of a Lincoln kick lately. To compound the fact that I teach kids about Lincoln three days a week, my reading material of late has been Tried by War: Abraham Lincoln as Commander in Chief by James McPherson. Having finished that, I've moved on to my favorite Civil War history, Shelby Foote's The Civil War -- a three-tome 3,000-page behemoth that dotes equally on the leadership of both Lincoln and his presidential rival, Jefferson Davis, throughout the war.

Living in a city with so many Lincoln-related places to see doesn't help, either. Between the Soldier's Home (Lincoln's get-away while president), Ford's Theatre, and the Lincoln Memorial, there are lots of options for an Honest Abe tour of the city. All these relics, however, are shrines to a hero; monuments to the Defender of the Union, the Great Emancipator. Yet Lincoln, who did so much to carry the United States through its greatest crisis, was more still: he was funny.

It turns out, he liked to tell stories; not droning or moralistic stories, but poignant anecdotes with a touch of tall tale -- like the kind your wily great uncle used to tell you. General George McClellan, when he was commander of the Army of the Potomac, wrote to his wife, "I have just been interrupted here by the President and Secretary Seward, who had nothing very particular to say, except some stories to tell, which were, as usual, very pertinent, and some pretty good. I never in my life met anyone so full of anecdote as our friend." Once, when asked how he liked the job of being president, he responded with the story of a man out West who had been tarred and feathered. "As he was being ridden out of town on a rail, [he] heard one among the crowd call to him, asking how he liked it, high up there on his uncomfortable perch. 'If it wasn't for the honor of the thing,' the man replied, 'I'd sooner walk.'"

It seems Lincoln always had something witty up his sleeve. Later in the war, the President was leaving the company of an Illinois editor who claimed to be the first to have suggested Lincoln for the presidential nomination. "Goodbye," Lincoln said, "I hope you will feel perfectly easy about having nominated me. Don't be troubled about it. I forgive you."

Lincoln's way with words extended to the metaphor, as well. Lincoln employed analogies to explain concepts in terms everyone could understand. Arguing for harsher policies against the Southern states, Lincoln said that the war could no longer be fought, "with elder-stalk squirts, charged with rose water." Later in the war, as General Sherman was wreaking havoc in the lower South while General Grant's Army of the Potomac held the South's largest army near Richmond, Lincoln remarked, "Grant has the bear by the hind leg while Sherman takes off the hide."

So, should you visit any of the many Lincoln shrines in Washington, remember that Honest Abe was not carved from granite, but was a likable fellow, with a "fund of humorous anecdote."

Sources:
Shelby Foote, The Civil War: Fort Sumter to Perryville (New York: Vintage Books, 1986), 66, 140, 166, 409.
James M. McPherson, Tried by War: Abraham Lincoln as Commander in Chief (New York: The Penguin Press, 2008), 106, 255.
Photo Source: http://open.salon.com/blog/heather_michon/2009/03/11/new_lincoln_photo_--_do_some_fact-checking_media

Creating Mayhem

2009-05-22T12:28:00.000-07:00

"The aim of Mayday actions is to raise the social cost of the war to a level unacceptable to America's rulers," recorded the Mayday Tribe in their tactical manual. This would take some organizing… (below: protest poster)

Mayday Tribe To Do List:
· Coordinate with the National Peace Action Coalition and agree to sponsor acts of civil disobedience from April 24th, 1971 through the first week of May
· Establish plans to block entry points in to the heart of Washington, DC thereby preventing federal employees from getting to work. Shut down the government!
· Form “affinity groups,” of 6-7 people to act together and create mayhem on May 3, 1971
The anti-war protesters were organized, and they should have been. Protests against the Vietnam War occurred annually since 1963. The call to descend on the District in April was largely successful; over 200,000 showed up. There were performances with John Denver and Pete Seger. In May, a smaller group remained in DC. This group was different; the Mayday Tribe was a more militant faction willing to create chaos by force, but this time the Police and National Guard were ready. They too, had had nearly a decade of riot experience.

Law Enforcement To Do list:
· Infiltrate groups with undercover police agents to learn of protest plans
· Go to the courts to determine what minimum requirements are needed to make mass arrests. Establish how many people an officer can arrest in one day and still remember the details
· Create fill-in-the-blank arrest forms
· Supply paddywagons with Polaroid cameras to help officers recall arrestees and events
· Use new kind of handcuff, called a “flexicuff,” pre-marked with the arresting officer’s badge number
· On day before protest, evacuate 30,000 protesters camped in West Potomac Park, citing raging drug use. Use tear gas if necessary.

Madness ensued on May 3rd. 20,000 thousand protestors, many decked out in army fatigues, took the streets early, blocking key intersections from Dupont Circle to the Tidal Basin Bridge. At the Memorial Bridge they blocked entry using bike racks and other barricades. In Georgetown, one affinity group commandeered a pickup truck, by releasing the parking brake and riding it down hill on M Street eventually parking it in the middle of an intersection. 1,400 members of the DC National Guard mobilized, reinforces with 4,000 army soldiers. Using helicopters to monitor the protests, law enforcement tracked the movement of the mobs. By the end of the day over 7,000 individuals had been arrested. Police began ignoring the arrest forms and simply sticking anyone who looked like a protester into vans. When local precinct jails filled to capacity, the police held arrestees at RFK stadium. Despite the chaos, the federal government did not shut down.

Fall-out from the event is interesting. The Mayday Protest marked the last major anti-war protest as well as the largest mass arrest in DC History. Beginning that year, the Nixon administration began the first withdraw of troops. The public attitude toward the protest was mixed. Many condemned its violence as anti-American, while others saw the arrests a breach of first amendment rights. The mass arrests triggered several court cases regarding false arrest and infringement of free speech and assembly. The last case was settled ten years later, and resulted in the government paying protesters between $750 to $2500 for false arrest and violations of the first amendment.

Sources: Lucy G. Barber, Marching on Washington.

Jeff Leen, “The Vietnam Protests: When Worlds Collided,” The Washington Post (September 27, 1999), Page A1.

If Only it Were a Dodecahedron

2009-05-19T13:43:00.000-07:00

Yet again, my misconceptions of Washington and government run abound. I had always presumed that the shape of the Pentagon was symbolic of American defense. Each side was a different branch, and if you had asked me I would have said it was the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and Department of Defense. Then too, I figured that a pentagram is a symbol of freemasonry and George Washington, who lived nearby, was a freemason and was also the first general of the military--so the Pentagon shape was the obvious choice. There. Solved. I’m sure Tom Hanks in The da Vinci Code would agree with me.

Unlike so many of the democratic themed federal buildings, there is no symbolism behind the pentagonal shape. In fact, when the government purchased Arlington Farm as the site for the Department of War building, the design was chosen simply because the farm was an irregular pentagon. Engineer Lieutenant Colonel Hugh J. Casey and architect George Bergstrom was told that his design could be no more than 5 stories tall and use as little steel as possible. These constraints meant that the space would need to be sprawled out. More space was needed in order to house all the employees, so the government purchased land around the Potomac, including the former slum of Hell’s Bottom—leveling it to make space. The shape of the Pentagon became a regular-sided pentagon. Upon completion it would be the largest office space in America, covering 29 acres and accommodating 40,000 workers and a parking lot for 8,000.

Construction began September 11, 1941 (coincidence?). After the December attack on Pearl Harbor, construction sped up. As part of the war effort, the building was redesigned to minimize materials needed. For example bonze doors were eliminated and concrete drainpipes were installed instead of metal. The building was completed in 1943. The three year project was accomplished in just 16 months, which just goes to show that when the government wants to “Git Ur Dun” they really can.

Source: The Pentagon

Duel of the Month Club: Alternate Weapons Edition

2009-05-09T13:07:00.000-07:00

Thus far, all of the duels we've mentioned have been pistol duels. If I remember my chivalrous movie scenes correctly, it's generally the challenged party who is allowed to choose their weapon. When Senator Charles Sumner (R-MA) delivered a two-day-long speech beginning on May 19, 1856, he inadvertently became the challenger in an impromptu duel.

Sumner's speech, an hours-long tirade focused on Kansas, which had become a battleground after Congress had decided to make slavery in the state subject to a popular vote. Sumner accused the South of conspiring to make Kansas a slave state, and peppered his speech with personal accusations aimed at several of his fellow senators. Among them was Andrew Butler of South Carolina, whom Sumner described as having taken "the harlot, Slavery," as his "mistress."
Two days later, on May 22, Butler's nephew, Congressman Preston Brooks (D-SC), seeking to "avenge the insult to my State," walked into the mostly deserted Senate chamber. Finding Sumner working at his desk, Brooks began beating the Senator over the head with his cane, with enough force to snap the cane into pieces.

Admittedly, this is a somewhat one-sided duel. On the other hand, the public recognized that Sumner had struck a sound enough blow verbally, that his opponent was obliged to respond with physical assault. The fight had far-reaching consequences, polarizing those in the North and the South. For his part, Sumner's speech was printed, with a million copies distributed. Though suffering concussions and severe headaches, Sumner eventually recovered and was able to return to the Senate. As for Brooks, he was sent several new canes, with inscriptions reading "Hit him again," and was even reelected to Congress.

Source: David Brian Davis and Steven Mintz, The Boisterous Sea of Liberty: A Documentary History of America from Discovery through The Civil War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998).

Pockets of Judaism in DC

2009-05-07T14:33:00.000-07:00

In honor of Jewish American Heritage Month, a look at Jewish Life in DC…

Arguably a “Southern City,” Washington never relied on industry to build itself. Absent were the mills and factories that built New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago in the nineteenth century. Government was (and is) the business of Washington. For this reason Jewish immigrants faced a different experience than they would have in other US cities.

Though Jews began immigrating to the US in fairly substantial numbers after the 1820s, the Jewish population in DC remained small. Part of this is explained by the aforementioned lack of industrialization and trade. To work in government you needed to know English, and as a consequence Jewish immigrants in DC often came from other American cities first where they had gained exposure to the English language. This meant that Jewish individuals in DC were already on their way to assimilating American culture; being an Eastern European Jew or a German Jew was not as significant as it would have been elsewhere.

After the Civil War, the absence of immigrants, coupled with discriminatory practices against African-Americans, provided a unique opportunity for Jews to find a niche in the market. Long accustomed to working as peddlers (one of the few businesses they were permitted in Europe), Jews used their business skills to set up Mom-and-Pop groceries. Because Jews typically preferred to live near their businesses, small Jewish neighborhoods, with synagogues emerged in DC, particularly near 31st and M (NW), 4th Street (SW), 7th (NW). Al Jolson of “The Jazz Singer” fame lived at 208 4 ½ Street (pictured above), SW where his father was Rabbi of the Talmud Torah on the Southwest Waterfront.

The stores and neighborhoods served as a vehicle for upward mobility, allowing Jews to enter the middle-class and escape poverty. It allowed them to form collectives to negotiate prices of goods and contribute to society through philanthropic organizations, such as the Hebrew Home for the Aged. The Jewish population continued to grow well in to the 20th century; by 1956 there numbered 40,000 in the Washington area. The 50s brought movement to suburbs and Jewish life shifted in to Maryland and parts of Virginia. However, there is still a strong Jewish presence in Washington today; the Historic 6th and I Synagogue (built in 1906) is ranked as one of the Top 25 most vibrant congregations in the country.

Sources: Hasia R. Diner and Steven J. Diner, “Washington’s Jewish Community: Separate but not Apart,” in Ed. Francine Curro Cary, Washington Odyssey.

Herbert G. Goldman, Jolson: The Legend Comes to Life.
Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington, Half a Day on Sunday.

Picture Source: Harris and Ewing collection, Library of Congress.

DC's First Race Riot

2009-05-05T09:02:00.000-07:00

Even today, DC is a city of segregation and has certainly had its share of racial violence. The District permitted slavery until April 16, 1862. At its peak there were about 4,000 slaves living and working in DC. One slave was eighteen year old Arthur Bowen, who on one drunken occasion in 1835 put events in motion that would lead to DC’s first race riot.

Bowen was owned by the wealthy widow Anna Thornton, wife of the first Architect of the Capitol, William Thornton. Out drinking late on August 4th, Bowen went home to the Thornton house on the 1300 block of F Street. Seeing an ax by the doorway, he carried the ax up to Anna Thornton’s bedroom and stood at the door, reportedly shouting that he had an equal right to freedom as Ms. Thornton. Scared witless, Anna fled the room. Bowen’s mother grabbed him, urging him to flee in to the night. On the run for four days, Arthur was apprehended on the 8th and taken to the city jail in Judiciary Square. With the Nat Turner Rebellion, in which runaway slaves massacred 60 villagers in 1831, still fresh in the minds of whites, fear of uprising was palpable. An angry mob gathered outside the jail, calling for the hanging of Bowen.

The mob consisted mainly of Irish laborers, known as the “Mechanics,” who believed they had much to lose with slaves and free blacks taking their jobs. District Attorney Francis Scott Key—yes, the “Star Spangled Banner” guy—sought to restore the peace by obtaining an arrest warrant for a white doctor said to be in possession of abolitionist literature. The doctor was placed in jail alongside Arthur Bowen, but the crowds were not appeased. The Marines were called in to defend the prison.

Meanwhile, down at The Epicurean Eating House on 6th and Pennsylvania, all hell was about to break loose. Beverly Snow, the proprietor, was a man of mixed-race who got along well with society and ran a profitable restaurant. Now, he had been accused of using very inappropriate language regarding the wives and daughters of the Mechanics. The mob 300 to 400 strong moved from Judiciary Square over to Snow’s restaurant, where they shattered windows, broke furniture, and consumed mass quantities of whiskey. The Mechanics then directed their rage towards black tenements houses, churches, and schools. A “house of ill fame” was torched near Capitol Hill. The mayor of Washington was forced to organize a local militia of 60 men to restore order.

As quickly as it had erupted, the violence ceased on August 13th. Order was restored, and soon it was business as usual. But what happened to the characters of this episode? Francis Scott Key pressed for the death penalty against Bowen, and it was granted. However, it turns out that Anna Thornton was fond of her slave; she changed her story (Bowen never said anything about freedom and rights at all) and appealed to President Jackson to have Bowen pardoned. Ever partial to widows, Jackson granted the pardon. As for Beverly Snow? He returned to DC just long enough to sell his business, then moved to a place where he declared a man can live free. Canada.

Sources: Jesse J. Holland, Black Men Built the Capitol.

Jefferson Morely, “The 'Snow Riot',” The Washington Post: February 6, 2005.

Oration Nation

2009-05-04T15:40:00.000-07:00

Do you ever watch CSPAN? It's OK to say no. The coverage of the floor of the two bodies of our legislature is really dull. Much of the time is devoted to procedural monotony, the shuffling of papers and feet, and the occasional speech delivered by someone you've never heard of before. Most importantly, however, is the fact that the chambers always seem empty. Sure, there are some aides running around, maybe a few congressmen here and there, but nobody seems to be paying any attention to what's going on. The aides are rushing to deliver papers; the senators are checking their Blackberries; the congresswomen look bored. Even the important moments, the ones that make the national news programs, are ignored by most everyone in the room.

This brings me to one of the many reasons I love history, especially eighteenth and nineteenth century history: People were so often passionate about things that matter. Of course, there was procedural nonsense and people who didn't care in the past, as well. Yet, I can't help but romanticize a time when delivering speeches was an art, and one could actually sway the opinion of another with rhetoric.

Daniel Webster was the kind of orator who could do that. Webster hailed from Massachusetts, and though he wasn't much to look at (but what politician ever is), his voice could hold even his opponents in rapture. In January of 1830, Senator Robert Hayne delivered a speech denouncing federal interference with the South, specifically a tariff that largely protected Northern industry at the expense of Southern landholders. Webster, who had been passing by on his way back from the Supreme Court, stopped to listen to Hayne speak. Hearing Hayne's impassioned denunciation of the federal government, Webster was displeased. The next day, he responded with an impassioned, eloquent defense of national policies. "[I cannot] regard him as a safe counselor in the affairs of this Government," Webster declared, "whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the Union should best be preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition of the People when it shall be broken up and destroyed."

Webster continued, pleading with his fellow Americans not to put their own interests before that of their country. Imagining a future in which the South took the drastic action of breaking up the Union, Webster hoped aloud that he would not see such a day: "When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in Heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union... Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather behold the gorgeous Ensign of the Republic... its arms and trophies streaming in their original luster, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured -- bearing for its motto, no such interrogatory as What is all this worth? Nor other words of delusion and folly... but... that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart -- Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable."

If you go to the Capitol today, you probably won't hear anyone speak like this. Admittedly, Webster's speech was considered exceptional even at the time: Hayne, his opponent, reputedly responded by telling Webster, "A man who can make such speeches as that ought never to die." Nevertheless, should you find yourself sitting in the galleries of the Senate chamber, close your eyes, and recall all the persons and words that have echoed through that hall. Maybe, just maybe, you can imagine Webster, standing with one hand in the small of his back, the other on the podium (the oratory style of the time), humbling his foes with fiery rhetoric and sweeping imagery.

Perhaps then you won't notice that the senator next to you is Twittering.

Source: Jon Meacham, American Lion: Jackson in the White House (New York: Random House, 2008).

Panic! It's the Swine Flu...and Walter Reed

2009-04-30T14:43:00.001-07:00

At Right: Walter Reed experiments

I was planning on writing about the Snow Riot this week, but it will have to wait. We’ve got an epidemic to deal with people! The Swine Flu has gotten to the World Bank, and now the Secret Service reportedly has it too!!!!

What should I do? A. Wear a mask? B. Avoid the metro? C. Skip out on tonight’s Nats game? I don’t have a mask, and I’m planning to take the metro to the game, so options B and C are out. I know from writing on the Great Influenza of 1918 that I ought to “avoid tight clothes, tight shoes, and tight gloves.” But that can’t be enough! The paranoia is just too great! I shall console myself by reading up on Walter Reed, for which Walter Reed Hospital is named.

In recent years we’ve associated Walter Reed Army Medical Center (WRAMC) with the scandal of neglect for wounded American servicemen, but this is a taint on the good name of Walter Reed. Born in 1851, Walter Reed was a precocious student who graduated from the University of Virginia with a medical degree in 1869. Joining the Army Medical Corps in 1875, Reed was sent to remote outposts including Nebraska and Arizona. In 1893 he moved to Washington, DC to serve as a faculty member at the Army Medical School. At the school he studied infectious diseases including malaria, cholera, and yellow fever. His research led him to Havana, Cuba in 1900 to study yellow fever, a serious killer at the time (During the Spanish-American War more soldiers died from yellow fever than combat wounds).

In the late 1800s, it was still believed that yellow fever was transmitted through clothing (i.e. germs on blankets) and from person to person. Despite taking precautions like burning “infected” blankets, yellow fever remained a persistent threat in tropical climes. The idea that yellow fever was transmitted through mosquitoes had been floating around, but it was not until Reed and his US Army Yellow Fever Board decided that the only way to prove the theory was by conducting tests on humans that the theory was confirmed. Essentially, Reed’s experiments involved allowing oneself to be bitten by a mosquito that had bitten a yellow fever victim and then waiting to see if you got yellow fever and died. Sign me up for that!

Reed returned to Washington to present his findings, short one team member who had died while using himself as a test subject. His presentation did not go well, and in fact the Washington Post called it “silly.” And so, more tests were conducted in an isolated camp in Cuba. This time the trials (using paid volunteers) were met with success when Reed presented the new findings at the Pan-American Medical Congress in 1901. Efforts to eradicate mosquitoes in Havana led to a sharp decline in the prevalence of yellow fever.

In recognition for his work Major Walter Reed received honorary degrees from Harvard and the University of Michigan. Sadly, his life was cut short in 1902 by complications arising from appendicitis. He died in the hospital named for him, and is buried in Arlington National Cemetery.

All right, I’m getting on the metro where I will be holding my breath and not touching anything.

Sources: The American Experience, “The Great Fever.”

University of Virginia, Phillip S. Hench Walter Reed Yellow Fever Collection.

Walt Whitman's Washington Part 2

2009-04-28T09:17:00.000-07:00

A continuation of Walt Whitman's hangouts. At Left: Walt Whitman and companion Peter Doyle in 1865.

14th Street: From this thorough-fare for Union troops, Walt witnessed wounded soldiers returning from the fronts in thousands. Noting their disheveled states and pained gazes, so unlike the grand military reviews held near the White House, Whitman stated, “This is way the men come in now, seldom in small numbers, but always in these long, sad processions.”

Analostan Island (Teddy Roosevelt Island): Though Whitman was by and large a Unionist, he was not an abolitionist. In effort to convert him, abolitionist coworkers in the Army Paymaster’s Office took him on a trip to Analostan Island, near Georgetown, to watch the First Regiment US Colored Troops receive pay. Whitman conceded that the colored troops fought bravely and honorably, but still believed them to be genetically and intellectually inferior.

Pennsylvania Ave: After hospital duty, Whitman strolled down the Avenue in the night air, clearing his thoughts and taking in the scenery.
· On this street he would see President Abraham Lincoln walking to and from the White House. Though he never met Lincoln personally he commented, “Who can see that man without losing all wish to be sharp upon him personally? Who can say he has not a good soul?”
· Whitman found love and companionship toward the end of the war from Pennsylvania Avenue horsecar operator and Confederate deserter Peter Doyle. Though 25 years Doyle’s senior, the two became inseparable over the next five years. At night Whitman would ride the lonely streetcar from Georgetown to Capitol, talking and confiding in Doyle.
· At the Center Market on Penn and 7th, Doyle and Whitman purchased watermelon. Sitting on a curb eating it, with passersby laughing at the odd couple. Walt would say, “They can have the laugh—we have the melon.”

Union Hotel: Early in the Civil War, the Union Hotel in Georgetown (at 30th and M Streets) became a temporary hospital for those with contagious diseases. By 1864 the Hotel had reverted back to its status as a popular saloon. Tired after a late shift on the streetcar, Doyle would fall asleep at a table in the bar, awoken at the end of the night by Whitman.

Walt Whitman resided in Washington, DC until 1873, when working late one night in the Treasury Building he suffered a stroke that left him partially paralyzed. At age 54, he had become an old man. Relocating to be close to family in Camden, New Jersey, Whitman hoped that he would be well enough to return to Washington, DC and Peter Doyle. However, he never recovered fully enough to make DC his home once more and lived the rest of his days in Camden.

Sources: Justin Kaplan, Walt Whitman: A Life.

Roy Morris, Jr., The Better Angel.

Walt Whitman's Washington Part 1

2009-04-28T06:47:00.000-07:00

Finding his brother’s name on a casualty report after the Union’s blunder at Fredericksburg in 1862, poet Walt Whitman left his home in Brooklyn, and set out to confirm his brother’s death. He arrived on the battlefield to find his brother alive, though wounded in the cheek from a shell fragment. It was in Virginia that Walt Whitman witnessed the horrors of the war with the blood, the amputations, the disease, and the filth. Vowing that his New York days were over, Whitman moved to the Capital of the Union to volunteer at the army hospitals. Below, is a rundown of his Washington haunts.

Various Homes: The Federal City Whitman arrived in ran the gamut from office-seekers, profiteers, religious zealots, prostitutes, and deserters.
· It was a wild town, and it’s no wonder that Whitman’s landlord kept 7 locks and a bulldog to guard the front door at his L Street apartment.
· In 1863, Whitman moved to a third story backroom at 456 6th Street between E and D Streets, coincidently located diagonally across his nemesis’s Salmon Chase’s stately mansion.
· Later he lived at 502 Pennsylvania Avenue, which was “a miserable place, very bad air.”
· In 1865, he was renting a room at 468 M Street.

Work: Whitman initially secured a position as a part-time copyist in the Army Paymaster’s fifth floor office at 15th and F Street.
· Seeking a higher Clerkship, Whitman used Ralph Waldo Emerson as a reference when applying for a Treasury position under Secretary of Treasury Salmon Chase, who refused him the position because he considered Leaves of Grass to be a disreputable book. Whitman called Chase “the meanest and biggest kind of shyster.”
· Becoming sick in 1864, Whitman left his copyist position for a time while returning home to Camden, NJ.
· Moving back to DC, he took a position in the Bureau of Indian Affairs, located in the dusty basement of the northeast corner of the Patent Office at 7th and G Streets (now the National Portrait Gallery). His annual salary was $1,200. Whitman lasted only months before he was fired, perhaps again because of his controversial writings.
· Fortunately, friends found him a position in the Attorney General’s office in the Treasury Building, and there he stayed until 1873.

The Hospitals: During the Civil War, Washington had between 40-50 military hospitals.
· Many were little more than canvas tents set up on wooden planks, such as the Lincoln Hospital located in a swamp just east of the Capitol.
· Two newer “state of the art” hospitals included those at Amory Square (seen at right), adjacent to the Smithsonian castle, and the Carver Hospital at Judiciary Square, built on the “Pavilion Plan” that allowed for wards with ample ventilation.
· About 70,000 wounded or sick soldiers were treated in the Washington hospitals at a given time, a number equal to Washington’s peacetime population. Running out of space, the city used churches, the US Patent Office, the Capitol, and the prison in Georgetown for overflows.
Surrounded by suffering, Whitman became consumed with his volunteer work at the hospitals. With the soldiers he played games of Twenty Questions, read Shakespeare, and wrote letters to their families. On one visit he secured ten gallons of ice cream to offer at the Carver Hospital (no meager feat during wartime rationing). Many of his patients would die, but Whitman held their hands, knowing well the look of death upon their faces. According to Whitman, war was “nine hundred and ninety-nine parts diarrhea to one part glory.”

Eventually the horrors of war got to Whitman, who became feverishly ill in June of 1864. The diagnosis for his illness is still contested, but at the time the doctors referred to it as “hospital fatigue.” Health and family issues brought him home to Brooklyn, to spend a few months recovering. The War progressed, the Union began winning, and by the end of 1864 only 17 hospitals in Washington remained, treating 9,265 patients. Returning to the Capitol after his illness, Whitman assured his brother that he was not visiting the hospitals as much as before. Still, he volunteered at least two or three times a week, particularly frequenting Amory Square Hospital until after the war had ended.

The nice thing about writers is that they leave a paper trail...stay tuned for part two.

Sources: Justin Kaplan, Walt Whitman: A Life.

Roy Morris, Jr., The Better Angel.

-. ..- -- -... . .-. ... ..--- ...-- ..--- ...-- STOP

2009-04-24T14:07:00.000-07:00

He was a young artist on the rise; Dying Hercules and Judgment of Jupiter were already considered masterpieces by the British public. His paintings embodied Americanism—the rise of common man over the aristocracy. He was an admirer and friend of James Fenimore Cooper, whose The Last of the Mohicans proved to the world the value of American culture. If he could be a success in London, he could certainly reach equally great heights in America. Deciding in 1815 that he had studied in Britain long enough, he returned home to the United States. His talents brought him to Washington, DC to paint the official portrait of President James Monroe. John Quincy Adams and the Marquis de Lafayette also sat for him.

And now, Congress was expanding the Capitol. Murals would be needed to cover the halls and rotunda. Congress was calling on artists to submit designs depicting the young nation and democracy. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he desperately needed this accolade. Economic recession had slowed his commissions. When he submitted his design, Samuel F.B. Morse was confident that the commission would be his. To prepare for the Capitol project, Morse sailed to Europe in 1829 to improve his skill.

In 1832, Morse learnt that he had lost the Capitol commission. Dreams shattered, he gave up on a career as an artist. Broke, he returned to America to take up a position as a professor at New York University. But fortune smiled upon him, for it was on the boat home that he met Dr. Charles T. Jackson, who introduced him Michael Faraday’s theories of electrical current. Always intrigued by science and invention (he was an early fan of photography), Morse studied electromagnetism and designed his first telegraph machine.

His new machine needed funding. In New York he found the financial backing of entrepreneur Alfred Vail, who assisted Morse in improving the telegraph design so that it was smaller, sleeker, and had a button for typing dots and dashes. It was this version that received a patent in 1840. In 1842 it was time to test the range of the electrical current. Morse and Vail set up a wire from Governor’s Island and Manhattan (a two mile range), but the test failed when a boat sailed in to the wire, snapping it.

Persistent, Morse returned to Washington, DC submitting a bill requesting $30,000 to run a telegraph line from the Supreme Court Chamber in Washington to the B & O Rail Station in Baltimore. Congress stalled on the bill for over a year. Just as a once again defeated Morse was about to leave town, he heard news that the bill had passed! The 38 mile experimental line was completed in 1844. On May 24, 1844 (as of today that’s 164 years and 11 months ago) Morse officially opened the line for communication. Sitting in the old Supreme Court Chamber, Morse typed out his famous first message, “What Hath God Wrought!” The message was received in the B& O Rail Station, but no one paid much attention. In fact, Samuel Morse had to write his own newspaper article proclaiming its success, “The Electric Telegraph Triumphant.”

It wasn’t until three days later when Morse sent news of James K. Polk’s presidential nomination from a deadlocked Democratic Convention in Baltimore across the wire to the Capitol that the nation finally took notice. The journalists and public were astounded! The ability to transfer information within minutes had just rendered the postal service obsolete! Ok, well maybe that last part is an exaggeration as we still continued to use snail mail, but the telegraph had changed the speed at which Americans lived their lives. “3 cheers have been given here for Polk and 3 for the Telegraph!” was the message of the day, and the rest is history!

Note: Morse asked a US Patent Commissioner’s daughter Annie Ellsworth to compose the first message. To find out the source of “What Hath God Wrought!” translate the blog title. Or, cheat and look it up on Wikipedia.

Source: Kenneth Silverman, Lightning Man.
Thomas Streissguth, Communications: Sending the Message.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUMUEL MORSE! April 27, 1791! You don't look a day older!

Know Nothing about the Washington Monument?

2009-04-22T12:36:00.000-07:00

Those blasted Know Nothings are up to no good again! Not only did they cause a riot, pitting the Plug Uglies against the Marines, they also spear-headed an effort to prevent the construction of the Washington Monument.

The Washington Monument was slow to get off the ground to begin with. Sure, the government and the people of the United States loved their Founding Father, but when it came to funding architect Richard Mill’s costly obelisk…well, it turns out they were sunshine patriots. Though the National Washington Monument Society convened in 1833, the cornerstone was not placed until1848. Because the federal government refused to entirely foot the bill, the Society asked states, nations, civil organizations, churches, and even Native American tribes to contribute money toward the project. However, rather than send money, states and organizations donated blocks of marble. Many of these stones came with engravings, such as, “Alabama. A union of equality, as adjusted by the constitution.” Alabama and Equality in the 1850s? Right. And I’m the Pope.

But speaking of popes, construction of the obelisk was moving along until Pope Pius IX donated a stone. The Know Nothings were anti-immigrant, which meant that they were anti-Irish, which meant they were anti-Catholic by extension. So fearful that the stone was an attempt by the papacy to take over the country, the Know Nothings stole stone and allegedly threw it in the Potomac. Through elections within the National Washington Monument Society, the Know Nothings managed to gain control of the society, halting construction. Acting sensibly, Congress opted to withhold funds from the Society until the party dissolved, but by that time the nation was heading toward a Civil War. Any available funds were diverted toward preserving the Union.

The Civil War ended, but the Washington Monument remained neglected. Some years later Congress finally mustered up the will to complete the project. A new cornerstone was laid in 1880 and the capstone was finally placed in 1884. If you look closely at the monument you will see that the marble at the bottom is a darker color than the marble that begins about 150 feet up. The project took so long that when construction resumed in the 1880s, builders needed to use stone from a different quarry. Exposed to the elements, the two types of marble have aged differently. And now you Know Something!

Source: David Clark, “Blending Stupendousness With Elegance: The Washington Monument,” Mental Floss, 2009.
National Park Service, Washington Monument, available online April 2009.

Picture Source: Special thanks to friend of the blog and photographer Christine Ruffo for use of the photos! Her prints are available for purchase at http://cruffo.etsy.com/.

Welcome to the White House, First Puppy

2009-04-16T18:50:00.000-07:00

Recent pictures of Washington DC’s newest/fluffiest resident, Bo the dog, romping around the White House remind us that this iconic Washington residence is indeed just that. A residence. Home to the President and the first family, the White House also does triple duty as part top secret office building and part museum. It is understood by all of its inhabitants (except perhaps the dogs) that their residence is temporary, but each administration does try it’s best to leave their mark. Fortunately enough, because of these territorial instincts (something the dogs would understand?) the interior of the White House now holds one of the greatest collections of American decorative arts in the country.

The cornerstone of the President’s Mansion was laid in 1792 under the supervision of architect James Hoban. While George Washington advised Hoban on the design, John Adams was the first president to move into the house in 1800 while it was still under construction. In 1801, Thomas Jefferson introduced the first indoor water closet, and running water was piped in through hollowed out logs beginning in 1833. While living there in 1809, James Madison commissioned noted American architect Benjamin Henry Latrobe to design what is now the Blue Room in the fashionable Greek Revival style at which Latrobe excelled. Unfortunately, in 1814 Madison and his wife Dolley were famously forced to flee the home with George Washington’s portrait as it burned under British attack. Incoming President James Monroe again hired James Hoban to rebuild the house, and updated the interior fashions with new French Empire furnishings. Several of these, including a Parisian-made settee and seven gilded chairs, remain today as the oldest original pieces of furniture in the home.

During the Victorian Era, President Buchanan brought modern Victorian decor into the house, and later Mary Todd Lincoln spent a great deal of effort to upgrade the mansion with Rococo Revival laminated rosewood furnishings. Many of these remain today in the famed Lincoln bedroom. During his administration in the late 1870s, Rutherford B. Hayes improved and expanded the White House greenhouses to reflect current interests in scientific advances and exotic curiosities.

By the time Chester Arthur entered office in 1881, the Victorian was on its way out. Arthur sold much of the extravagant interior decorations added during the period and commissioned fellow New Yorker and color expert Louis Comfort Tiffany to redecorate the oft used Blue Room in it’s namesake blue hue. In 1902 Theodore Roosevelt continued the trend by bringing on the Neo-classical powerhouse architectural firm of McKim, Mead and White to fully remove the Victorian dressings and replace them with the streamlined interiors found in the White House today. Roosevelt also commissioned McKim, Mead and White to construct the West Wing of the building to help separate his office space from the family quarters occupied by his six rambunctious children. The West Wing was later expanded in the 1930s by Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who also added (given the times) a small movie theater and an air raid shelter.

In 1948, Harry Truman took office and shortly thereafter discovered that the structure of his new home was in a disastrous state. Over 130 years of constant use as office and living spaces had passed since the last reconstruction, and Truman began planning for a new restoration as soon as his daughter’s piano started to sink into the floor. From 1948 to 1952, the house was completely gutted and rebuilt with modern steel beams and concrete slabs that were pinned to the original 1814 exterior. The interiors were then replicated using Hoban’s floor plans, with decorations mimicking McKim, Mead and White’s classically inspired designs.

The gutted interior of the White House in 1950

Truman’s restoration of the house was well received, but his one major misstep was to redecorate much of the interior with standard issue furniture. Luckily, the White House found its savior in 1960 with the arrival of Jackie Kennedy. An icon of fashion herself, Jackie Kennedy worked tirelessly to make the White House a showcase for the decorative arts. Aware of the importance and depth of history that the house possessed, she worked to establish a collection of original pieces and to restore the public rooms as period spaces. Under her guidance, in 1961 the White House gained a curator and officially became a museum. She then created the White House Historical Association, which still exists today to raise money for the care of the home’s collections and to acquire further pieces of furniture and art. After Jackie, the care and preservation of the White House became an official task of the First Lady. In 1964 Lady Bird Johnson helped establish the Committee for the Preservation of the White House, of which the First Lady is the honorary chair, and in 1979 Rosalynn Carter oversaw the creation of the White House Preservation Fund (now the White House Acquisition Trust) with an original endowment of 25 million.

Today the historic preservation of the White House is managed by the National Park Service and the General Services Administration. It received its museum accreditation from the American Association of Museums in 1988, and visitors willing to call their Congress members in advance can view prominent pieces from the collection on daily tours. And of course, the collection is always growing. Reflecting her personal style, new First Lady Michelle Obama hired interior decorator Michael Smith to create casual, homey interiors that are distinctly American; mixing priceless Early American antiques with affordable modern pieces. Ubiquitous furniture sources like Anthropologie and Pottery Barn were tapped for the more affordable items, while the President and First Lady sleep in an 1820’s tall-post maple bed and Malia Obama does her homework on a desk used by President Lincoln.

Here’s hoping that Bo doesn’t get to chewing on the legs of those.

Source: Delahanty, Randolph. "The Nation's House" Museum, January/February 2009

Image Sources: Obama and dog, http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2009/04/images/090414-obama-dog-picture_big.jpg; White House Shell, http://www.whitehousemuseum.org/special/renovation-1948.htm

Circles and Squares Roundup

2009-04-16T13:38:00.000-07:00

Yehaw!

No it's not a lesson in geometry. Simply put, I was thinking the other day that I know who most of the squares and traffic circles in DC are named after, but I'm fairly certain most others who live here do not. Now, that may have something to do with my time as a fifteen-year-old shut-in Civil War buff; a phase I imagine the majority of people did not endure. Therefore, I thought it might be nice to do a little write-up on who the various historical figures whose names we use each day were, given that the vast majority were, in fact, Civil War figures of varying degrees of importance. So, here are a few Civil War-related circles and squares you may have passed through, in no particular order:

Thomas Circle - General George Thomas, who made up for his rather commonplace name by having lots of fun nicknames: "Pap," "The Rock of Chickamauga," "The Sledge of Nashville." General Thomas was a level-headed, competent Union General in the Western Theater.

McPherson Square - James B. McPherson, another competent general of the Western Theater, who died in 1864 just outside Atlanta.

Dupont Circle - Rear Admiral Samuel DuPont, who did not fare well during the Civil War. Though he was the first officer to command Union ironclads, he never distinguished himself during the war and retired in 1863 after a failed assault on Charleston.

Farragut Square - Admiral David Farragut, who distinguished himself in the taking of New Orleans, as well as Mobile, AL. He was the highest-ranking naval officer in the United States during the Civil War.

Scott Circle - General Winfield Scott, the highest-ranking officer in the American army at the time of the Civil War. General Scott was truly a hero of the Mexican-American War, and was so old and unhealthy by the time of the Civil War that he resigned in 1861.

Logan Circle - General John Logan, yet another competent but undistinguished Western Theater commander. See my Bizarre Bites post for more on his later political career.

Sheridan Circle - General Phil Sheridan, an able Western commander who was transferred to the Eastern Theater late in the war, and succeeded in gaining control of the long-contested Shenandoah Valley. Later an Indian killer.

Picture Source: http://www.planetware.com/picture/washington-d-c-us-dc242.htm

To Market

2009-04-16T10:29:00.000-07:00

I am a foodie. I like to cook with Sea Salt. You will not find Velveeta in my fridge. “Imitation vanilla flavoring” may as well be considered profane language. Since moving to DC, I’ve come to appreciate the weekend farmer’s market scene, be it in Eastern Market, Dupont Circle or Arlington. I get inspired by DC Foodies' rundowns on local markets around town. With anticipation of the summer months, when the market will be booming with vendors, today’s topic is the Center Market on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Opening to vendors in 1801 with the encouragement of President Jefferson, the Center Market
was the primary location of commerce in this Tidewater Town. To get the best produce and meat, you had to get their early in the morning and be willing to pay a higher cost. As the day progressed, prices dropped until the market closed in the mid-afternoon. Farmers from Virginia and Maryland occupied the outer, less expensive stalls to sell corn, potatoes, and apples. Early transportation of goods was done on horseback. In his Early Recollections of Washington City, DC-native Christian Hines (1781-1875) described the transportation of tobacco:

The hogshead containing the tobacco, had a hole bored in each head, and an axle run through from one end to the other. To this axle a shaft was attached something like the shaft of a cart. To this the horse was hitched and the tobacco brought to town, up and down hills, over stones, &c. It looked precisely like the roller with which the streets are now rolled.

By the 1830s the Center Market played a significant role in the lives of African-American slaves. Unlike those on the plantation who worked dawn to dusk, slaves living in the cities often worked on a task system. A task system afforded slaves free time once their chores had been completed for their master—free time which could be used to plant a small garden and sell the produce at market. Money earned went toward purchasing freedom.

Starting as an open-air market, an indoor structure two blocks long was built in 1871 to accommodate over 700 vendors, with an additional 300 in stalls outside (at left: outside vendors sell goods, c. 1900). Improved railways and railcars brought oranges from Florida and beef from the Midwest. A streetcar stop carried customers. But as the nation and government grew, the government found a pressing need to protect the rapidly deteriorating documents of our past. Sitting on a prime location on Penn Ave, the market was demolished in 1931, and the National Archives took its place.

Sources: Cultural Tourism DC, African-American Heritage Trail Database, “National Archives/ Center Market”.

Christian Hines,
Early Recollections of Washington City.

National Museum of American History, America on the Move, "A Streetcar City".

Treasury Courtesans and Postmistresses

2009-04-13T09:01:00.000-07:00

Above: A Womens lunchroom at the Bureau of Printing and Engraving, 1913.

We might be in an “Information Revolution” today, but let’s not forget that the latter half of the 19th century saw a boom in information technology as well. The development of telegraphs, typewriters, and improved mail service (by use of rail) all contributed to stacks upon stacks of paper piling up in the government agencies across Washington. An efficient and cheap source of labor was sorely needed to keep up with demand. The government needed women!

Finding himself with a shortage of men due to the Civil War, US Postmaster Montgomery Blair was the first to hire women in traditionally white collar jobs by placing them as clerks in the Dead Letter Office at the Postal headquarters. By 1865, women outnumbered men in that office 38 to 7.

Soon women were filling clerical positions across departments—handling mail, keeping financial records, and typing correspondence. In 1870 the number of women employed as clerks was in the low hundreds, but within twenty years their numbers surpassed 4,000. By 1910 women filled 8,443 clerical positions in the federal government. When we look at the statistics nationally, 16% of women in DC were employed in white collar jobs, compared with 7% across the country.

While the Federal City led the country in employing women, we should note that these white collar jobs were for white women only. Most African-American women living in DC continued to be employed in domestic service positions, with many DC-born blacks working in the housekeeping departments of the governmental agencies.

White women employed by the government found themselves not without a glass ceiling. Employed as clerks, women rarely if ever rose in the ranks of management. In fact, the US Postal Laws and Regulations of 1866 forbade women from holding the position of postmaster (this was amended 7 years later so that married women could become postmasters). Women received 35% less pay than their male peers. Further, by breaking traditional roles women had to endure the whispers and criticisms of others. Those in the treasury department were referred to as “Treasury Courtesans,” sent there to seduce their male counterparts!

Despite the hardships of the working world, women remained in government offices and proved to be an efficient and educated source of labor. Postmaster Blair later admitted that women handled the mail with “fidelity and care” and with faithfulness greater than the men.

Sources: Carl Abbott, Political Terrain.

Smithsonian U.S. Postal Museum, Women in the U.S. Postal System.

Picture Source: Shorpy, http://www.shorpy.com/node/5724.

Washington Senators: Die Hard

2009-04-11T14:30:00.000-07:00

Ah, baseball in DC. The Nationals open their beautiful stadium for the season on Monday. However, at 0-5, the Nats are the only team in the National League without a win, and look to be working on another hard-to-watch season. So, that makes this the perfect time to write about a team that isn't terrible, because they no longer exist: The Washington Senators.

Several incarnations of the Senators have come and gone in the last 130 years. Originally, the Senators (known alternately as the Nationals or Statesmen) were a National League team from 1891-1899, playing at Boundary Field. The Senators had an appropriately miserable winning percentage (the team to beat of the era: The Boston Beaneaters) and when the NL cut four teams at the end of 1899, the Senators were among those eliminated.

Two years later, the Senators were reborn, this time as one of the founding teams of the American League. The new Senators, however, were as bad as the previous incarnation. After going 38-113 in 1904, as will happen to terrible teams, the owners decided to change the name to the "Nationals." Local people and newspapers seem to have ignored this change, however, and continued to refer to the team as the Senators. Making it easier to ignore the name change, the team wore only a "W" on their jerseys throughout most of the following era. In the ensuing years, the Senators/Nationals continued to dominate the bottom of the standings (though in 1908 they managed to edge out both the Boston Doves and the Brooklyn Superbas). Somewhere along the line, the name was changed (officially) back to "Senators,"but it wouldn't matter, because in 1960 the team moved to Minneapolis and became the Minnesota Twins.

The very same season, the hard-to-kill Senators were re-reborn in Washington, with a new team, a new owner, and the same win-loss ratio. In 1962, they played moved into a brand-new ballpark, present-day RFK Stadium. However, the following ten seasons would produce only one winning record, and in 1972 the team again moved, this time to Texas where they became the present-day Texas Rangers.

A thirty-year drought of baseball in Washington ensued, which was happily ended by the relocation of the miserable Montreal Expos to Washington in 2005. This newest team, the Nationals, has continued Washington's hilarious baseball tradition.

All statistics from: www.mlb.com

Duel of the Month Club: Clay v. Randolph

2009-04-08T10:43:00.000-07:00

Senator Henry "Blackleg" Clay (at left) v. Representative John "Crackshot"Randolph of Roanoke (at right).

In 1826 one of the worst names you could call someone was a “Blackleg,” a cheater. That is just what John Randolph called Senator Clay when he implicated him a “corrupt bargain” with John Q. Adams. Ever the hotheaded southerner, Senator Clay called Randolph out, much to the horror of Washington. After all, Randolph was known for his aim, as well as his alcohol and opium induced erratic nature. No one thought Clay stood a chance. Senator Thomas Hart Benton attempted to mediate. But it was no “sticks and stones” for these gentlemen; they chose pistols and set a date for April 8, 1826.

Randolph insisted that the duel be fought in his native Virginia, the only place worthy of his blood. The two men, along with their seconds and Benton as their witness, met a half mile north of the Chain Bridge at Pimmit Run in Arlington. Despite Randolph’s earlier promise to Benton that he had no intention of shooting at the distinguished Clay, you just never knew with Randolph. He could go either way.

So there they were at Pimmit Run ready to duel, when the second loading Randolph’s pistol accidently fired it due to a hair trigger. Randolph was furious; this was a breach of the code duello and an embarrassment to his honor. Clay was angry too, but since it was clearly an accident, he was willing to overlook it. The two counted their paces, turned and fired. Both bullets had missed. Randolph had clearly fired at Clay! The bullet just barely missed!

In keeping with dueling protocol, Benton asked both men if they were satisfied. Both Clay and Randolph declared that they were not satisfied and had their seconds reload. This time Clay shot first. After the echo of the first shot, Benton raised his pistol above him, fired and shouted, “I do not fire at you, Mr. Clay.” The two met halfway and shook hands. A visibly relieved Senator Clay asked if Randolph had been wounded. John Randolph replied, “You owe me a coat, Mr. Clay.” Henry Clay replied, “I am glad the debt is no greater.”

Footnote: Thomas Hart Benton once shot his friend Andrew Jackson in the shoulder, servering an artery, after a dispute in a bar. Jackson survived. The two reconciled and remained friends.

Source: Thomas Hart Benton in, G.E. Rule, “The Brown-Reynolds Duel”, edited by Walter B. Stevens, 1911.

Secret Entryways to the White House? Maybe not…

2009-04-07T13:40:00.000-07:00

At the corner of 15th and Constitution and 17th and Constitution stand two small houses, ornate in design considering their small size. The story I had always been told is that they were escape routes from White House… …the one Dolly Madison used when she took George Washington’s portrait and the Constitution and some other stuff out of the White House…there was a vague fire…possibly by the British…in 1812ish. Turns out that’s a lie.

Named after the Architect of the Capitol, Charles Bulfinch, the Bulfinch Gatehouses served a different purpose altogether. Back in the day, it was common to use the public grounds around the Capitol for the grazing of cattle and livestock. By the 1820s the grounds had become a zoo, literally. To combat this problem, Charles Bulfinch constructed a fence around the Capitol to keep the animals out, with a guardhouse at each of the four corners. There the buildings stood until Frederick Law Olmstead (famed designer of Central Park) came to the U.S. Capitol to provide some sorely needed renovations and landscaping in the 1880s.

Two of the gatehouses and gateposts were moved to their present location near the White House grounds, along Constitution Avenue. On the southeast side of the markers are two lines carved in the sandstone indicating the high-water marks for the Potomac River floods in 1877 and 1881. The latter prompted Congress to dredge the Potomac.

Ancient Cherry Blossoms

2009-04-02T14:12:00.000-07:00

(At right, photo of the blossoms of a cherry tree in East Potomac Park)

The Washington Post had a fantastic article in today's Metro section about how a member of the National Park Service thinks he may have found the remaining "original" cherry blossom trees from 1910. Since WaPo will not let you access the article without a membership, I'll summarize briefly.

Though the Japanese Embassy had presented the city with 2,000 trees back in 1910, all but a handful were burned due to disease and insect infestation. A second and more healthy shipment of cherry trees arrived in 1912, becoming the foundation of today's Cherry Blossom Festival. But what happened to the handful of remaining trees? A newspaper article following the burn said that about 24 surviving trees had been planted in an experimental plot. No one knows where that plot might be until now...

National Park Service cherry blossom expert Rob DeFeo has located 18 cherry trees in East Potomac Park near Hains Point. The trees are gnarled and have rooted in themselves, something they only do as they get extremely old. They are also y-shaped, probably from early pruning. DeFeo researched the area and notes that East Potomac Park belonged to the Bureau of Plant Industry in 1910. This and other evidence leads DeFeo to conclude that this grove holds the original trees. Mystery solved? I think so.

Thank you Washington Post for covering the Cherry Blossom Festival, so that we here at Ten Miles Square don't have to-- we're not huge fans...there are crowds...traffic jams...litter...tourists with fannypacks...someone help us please...

Source: Michael Ruane, "Century-Old Mystery Blooms In Grove of D.C. Cherry Trees," The Washington Post (April 2, 2009).

Arlington Cemetery, Part III

2009-03-31T14:22:00.000-07:00

So, I mentioned in my previous post that I had many more pictures of Arlington, and I could not help but share some more here. In the interest of avoiding the confusion of my last post, however, I will list descriptions first, then add the pictures.

#1 A grave from the 1880's, when things were a bit more free-form at Arlington. The man's age suggests (31 at the outbreak of the war) that he served in the Civil War.

#2 The garden outside of Arlington House is ringed with Civil War graves, mostly men who died in the last two years of the war.

#3 The north side of General Crook's marker, with a Major's grave from the same era right in front of it.

#4 I very nearly stepped on G.V.H., pictured here. About a half-dozen similar markers were scattered on the hill leading up to Arlington House. Yet another example of the different styles of grave that were acceptable in the early days of the cemetery.

#5 These were three Revolutionary War veterans whose remains were moved to Arlington by the Daughters of the American Revolution.

#6 Here, among the largest swath of Civil War graves that I found in the cemetery, were the graves of George Washington Parke Custis and Mary L. Custis. G.W.P. Custis was the adopted son of George Washington who built Arlington House, and Mary was his wife.

Every Rose has its Thorn

2009-03-31T13:20:00.000-07:00

At Right: Rose Greenhow and her daughter "Little Rose" at the Old Capitol Prison.

From her home on 16th Street near St. John’s Episcopal Church, Rose O’Neale Greenhow was perfectly situated as a spy for the Confederacy. Known as the Wild Rose, the widow was both socialite and seductress, playing host to a variety of politicians including President James Buchanan and William Seward.

After South Carolina’s succession in 1861 Greenhow was contacted by a U.S. Army captain who intended to switch sides and fight for his native Virginia. Realizing what great influence Rose Greenhow held in Washington society, the captain taught her simple code and established a means of communicating with her through a network of Southern sympathizers.

The Wild Rose found an informative paramour in abolitionist Henry D. Wilson*, a Senator from Massachusetts and Chairman of the Military Affairs Committee. A married man, Senator Wilson would sign his love letters to Greenhow as “H” (the letters would say such scandalous things as, “If fate is not against you, I will be with you this night…My love is all”). Through “H” Greenhow gleaned intelligence on Union troop movements.

As Union and Confederate troops prepared for war, Greenhow sent a message to Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard, in which she passed along Union battle plans for the First Battle of Bull Run on July 21, 1861. The message was delivered just days before the battle on July 9th, via another female spy who tucked the message into the bun of her hair and warned Beauregard that “McDowell has certainly been ordered to advance on the sixteenth. ROG.” For her service, Confederate President Jefferson Davis credited Greenhow with the victory at Bull Run.

Greenhow continued to send coded messages, but unfortunately the downside of being well-known is being well-known. She was soon suspected of espionage and was arrested by the Secret Service in August 1831. Ever determined, Greenhow continued to send her messages from the Old Capitol Prison (at the site of the present day Supreme Court) and later in her home under house arrest, through candles in the windows.

In May 1862, the Federals released Greenhow and deported her to Richmond, Virginia, where she was hailed as a heroine. Jefferson Davis soon dispatched Greenhow to Britain to drum up support for the Southern Cause. Returning to North Carolina in 1864, Rose Greenhow met a tragic end. The ship she had been travelling on had run aground near Cape Fear during a storm. Despite the raging storm, Greenhow demanded to be taken ashore in a rowboat. The boat capsized, and Greenhow drowned. Upon her body, recovered having been washed ashore, was a cipher used for one of her many correspondences. Wow, she was persistent!

*Some historians debate whether or not “H” stood for Henry Wilson or his secretary Horace White.

Sources: Ann Blackman, Wild Rose.

Ishbel Ross, Rebel Rose.

A Fence War

2009-03-25T14:21:00.000-07:00

I have discovered in life that there are ways of getting almost anywhere you want to go, if you really want to go. ~Langston Hughes

As one of the first suburbs developed in Washington, a home in the gated community of Le Droit Park came complete with a colorful gingerbread exterior, picket fences, and flowerbeds. Bordering the traditionally black Howard University, this “white only” neighborhood was established in the 1870s when it was sold to Howard trustee and real estate developer Amzi L. Barber. No expense was spared by architect James McGill, and the lavish houses cost $4,000 to $10,000 (a large sum for the 1870s). Soon Le Droit Park was referred to as the “Flower Garden of Washington.”

Simultaneously developing in the 1870s was the University. Chartered through Congress in 1867, Howard University’s mission was to educate African-Americans at a time when the concepts of segregation and “separate but equal” were becoming entrenched n American society. Despite the constraints, Howard developed into a reputable university and a home for intellectual thought among African-American elites. Howard professors resided in the predominantly black Howard Town area just north of Le Droit Park. On weekends these prominent African-American citizens would stroll through nearby McMillan Park, by then designated as a black park.

With the increasing influence of the university community, Le Droit Park became the center of a “Fence War.” The mansions of Le Droit Park represented what African-Americans were struggling to achieve, in addition to what white society was trying to keep forbidden from them. Residents of Howard Town grew frustrated with the segregation and inconvenience of having to walk around the neighborhood to get to and from Howard University. In frustration, African-Americans in the community tore down the fences of Le Droit Park, including a board fence on 4th Street across from the University. Subsequently, by securing court injunctions the residents of Le Droit Park reconstructed the fences. The cycle repeated itself from 1886 to 1891, when a compromise permanently removed the fences.

Not long after, the African-Americans moved in to the neighborhood; early residents included poet laureate Paul Laurence Dunbar and the first black municipal judge, Robert Terrell. As has often been the problem with racial tension, where blacks went, whites left. By the early 1900s Le Droit Park became a community for affluent African-Americans, gaining prominence in as a home for African-American congressmen, doctors, lawyers, and a frequent of Langston Hughes in the 1920s.

Sources: “How Le Droit Park Came to be Added to the City,” The Washington Times, May 31, 1903 (page 5).

Jacqueline M. Moore, Leading the Race (Virginia: The University of Virginia Press, 1999).

“Le Droit Park Historic District,” The Le Droit Park Historic Society, DC Historic Preservation Office.

“Neighborhood History,” Le Droit Park Civic Association, available online at http://www.ledroitparkdc.org/ (25 March 2009).

Picture Source: “How Le Droit Park Came to be Added to the City,” The Washington Times, May 31, 1903 (page 5).

Arlington Cemetery, Part II

2009-03-22T20:09:00.000-07:00

In my first post on the topic, I focused mainly on Arlington House and the history of the site before it became a cemetery. I revisited Arlington National Cemetery this (Sunday) morning, with the goal of finding Civil War era graves. The Union dead were the first soldiers to be buried at Arlington, after the property was seized at the outset of the war. So, seeking these veterans out seems like a way to keep these posts roughly chronological. In addition, I am a total nerd for the Civil War. I have read a lot about it, know a lot about it, and I had spotted several familiar names on markers around the cemetery on my first two visits. So I really wanted to check it out.

I decided that rather than actually speak with someone who knows the area (like, say, a tour guide), I would just walk around and see what I would find. I ended up taking many pictures, as it was a gorgeous day. What follows, then, is basically my visit in pictures.

The first Civil War era grave I stumbled upon. The Civil War veterans are easy to spot because the names are framed by this badge shape, and because in the spirit of the time, they all have the state they fought for listed.

Nearby that first grave, I found the towering marker for Joseph Wheeler. Wheeler was actually a Confederate general during the Civil War, and ably commanded the cavalry of the Army of Tennessee. Later, however, he (re)joined the United States military and served as a general during the Spanish-American War, earning himself an incredibly tall spot in Arlington.

General George Crook was also buried beneath an elaborate gravestone. The back of which, pictured here, depicts him accepting the surrender of Geronimo and his men.

Throughout the cemetery, one can find graves from the time period mixed in with everyone else, as with the three visible here.

Eventually, however, I found a vast area that was almost entirely Civil War veterans, in the northern end of the cemetery.

I even found a monument honoring the Confederate dead. The graves circling this monument were all Southern veterans, and their graves were distinguished with a slight point at the top, rather than the smooth semi-circle topping most markers at Arlington.

Sunday was the third day of spring, and I wanted to photograph this robin, but he was having none of it.

It was also a lovely day. Our nation's heroes have a truly peaceful place to rest.

Duel of the Month Club: Decatur v. Barron

2009-03-21T10:45:00.000-07:00

Steven Decatur (Left) v. James Barron (Right)

We here at Ten Miles Square love a good duel. We are of the belief that when it comes to honor, all challenges must be answered! Though we are likely to run away when personally affronted, if others want to "have it out," that's okay with us-- we'll watch from afar...or read about it a few centuries later.

Fortunately for us, DC was a prime dueling locale. To kick us off, a battle between Commodore James Barron and Commodore Stephen "Conqueror of the Barbary Pirates" Decatur.

It all started during the Napoleanic Wars, when the British were bullying the nascent American navy, and impressing American sailors into the British navy. In 1807, Barron's ship, the Chesapeake, was approached by the somewhat larger British Leopard. Judging his odds unfavorable in a true contest, he elected to fire his guns once, and promptly lower his colors in surrender. Though Stephen Decatur was a former subordinate and close friend of Barron to whom he admitted that he owed his career, Decatur sat on the the jury that would issue a court-marshall and five year leave to Commodore Barron for the "Chesapeake Affair." An outraged Barron left the United States and returned in 1818, well after the War of 1812 concluded. Decatur remarked on Barron's inaction in the war, stating that he had failed to serve his country and do his patriotic duty. After a period of correspondence, the two set a date on March 22, 1820 to restore their honor in a duel.

Admittedly, this duel did not take place in the District. It occurred just over the DC line in Bladensberg, Maryland. But, Stephen Decatur lived in Washington, and at any rate it was illegal to duel in the District (but not in MD). After a last minute attempt to reconcile, the two gentlemen counted off their eight paces, turned and fired. Both were wounded; for Decatur the wound was mortal. He was rushed back to his home in Lafayette Park where he slowly bled to death in the evening of the 22nd. So grieved was the nation at the War Hero's death that the U.S. Senate ajourned so that members could attend his funeral procession, and towns across the United States were named in his honor.

And In-flew-Enza

2009-03-20T13:50:00.000-07:00

The photo of the flu ward at Walter Reed Army Hospital inspired me to learn about the Great Influenza of 1918. Too often, the Capital is isolated from the rest of the country; it’s a place that hears the problems of the nation but doesn’t necessarily see them. The influenza pandemic in 1918 is a great example of how the city shared in a national tragedy. As the worst pandemic in history, the Great Influenza or Spanish Flu infected 20-40% of the World’s population, causing 50 million causalities. With sudden symptoms of aches and fever, pneumonia, and hemorrhaging of the lungs and intestines, the flu managed to kill 675,000 Americans in a mere 6 months.

Though the virus appeared in the United States in March 1918, the first casualty in the District was on September 21st; the victim had been a railroad brakeman who had been exposed to it in New York. From his DC headquarters, Surgeon General Rupert Blue was just beginning to recognize that the flu outbreak was about to wreak havoc. Just one day later 65 cases were reported at Camp Humphrey (now Fort Belvoir, near Arlington Cemetery). That day the government issued its first warning to the public, stating among other things to:
“-Avoid needless crowding
-Smother your coughes and sneezes
-Food will win the War—Help by choosing and chewing your food well
-Avoid tight clothes, tight shoes, tight gloves.”

By September 26th Senator John Weeks of Massachusetts called for a resolution appropriating a hefty one million dollars toward combating the outbreak. The resolution sped through the Senate and House in two hours, passing without a single dissent. The United States Public Health Service (now the NIH) set up an emergency hospital in the District that could accommodate 500 patients, and the Surgeon General of the Navy made available 40 medical officers. At Walter Reed the mortality rate of flu victims with pneumonia reached 52%. For 1918, the mortality rate in DC reached 23.6 deaths out of 1000 dying compared to 16.8 in 1917. To give a comparison, the average mortality rate in 1918 for the 46 largest US cities was 19.6.

In a short time coffins became a scarcity. At one point, DC Health Commissioner Louis Brownlow seized two railcars full of coffins bound for Pittsburgh, another hard-hit city. Local funeral home owner Bill Sardo later recalled that “from the moment I got up in the morning to when I went to bed at night, I felt a constant sense of fear. We wore gauze masks. We were afraid to kiss each other, to eat with each other, to have contact of any kind. We had no family life, no church life, no community life. Fear tore people apart.”

Though the USPHS, the Navy and Army worked diligently to create vaccines that had moderate success, people were generally at the mercy of virus and could only wait it out. Over the next few months the emergency hospital in DC reduced its size to one hundred beds and by March 1919 it had dispensed operations all together. The flu had disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived, having left its mark of fear across the nation.

Sources: John M. Barry, The Great Influenza (New York: Viking Penguin, 2004).

Alfred W. Crosby, America’s Forgotten Pandemic, Second Edition (NewYork: Cambridge University Press, 2003).

“Death Rate Increase in 1918,” New York Times, January 6, 1918.

United States Department of Health and Human Services, The Great Pandemic (available online: 3/20/09).

Picture Source: "Walter Reed Hospital flu ward", Harris & Ewing glass negative, c. 1919 (available online: 3/20/09). *Shorpy is a fantastic hi-def vintage photography website, with many collections from DC.

Arlington Cemetery, Part I

2009-03-15T20:08:00.000-07:00

Arlington National Cemetery is probably one of the most popular historical destinations around the District, outside of the National Mall area. I had visited the cemetery a few months after moving to the city, but focused on finding the grave of a recently buried grandfather to one of my friends. I didn't stay very long to look around. I returned this past week determined to see a few of the tourist sites I had overlooked the first time. Winding my way up the hill toward the Lee House, I found myself pointing out graves to my companion with increasing excitement. "Wow, there's George Crook!" "Hey, that's Justice Burger." And so forth. I realized that there is far too much there for me to really take in at once. Therefore, I have decided to take advantage of what time I have left before the cherry blossom tourists arrive, and revisit Arlington a few times in the next two weeks and see what neat little tidbits I can dig up.

Almost everyone in the District seems to know a few basic things about the cemetery, but with so much history, I think a bit of an overview might be in order, as a preface to the more focused posts that will follow. To that end, here is a breakdown of a few anecdotes and details I gathered during my most recent trip:

Things you probably knew already:
-The property on which the cemetery was sited had been owned by Robert E. Lee.
-Lee's house, known as Lee House, Arlington House, or fifty other names, is still standing at the highest point in the cemetery.
-The house was originally built by a (indirect) descendant of George Washington, George Washington Parke Custis.
-The property was seized by the United States government during the Civil War after Lee resigned his commission in the US military and moved his family south, away from the armies of the North.

Things you might have known already:
-The first military personnel to be buried at Arlington were Northern soldiers who died fighting in the Civil War - an irony which was not lost on those who had designated the former Lee property as a burial site.
-One of Robert E. Lee's sons actually won the house back more than a decade after the war by suing the federal government. However, as the house was completely surrounded by graves, he ended up selling it right back to the United States government for $150,000.

Things I definitely did not already know:
-The very first person known to be buried at Arlington cemetery wasn't a veteran! It was Mary Randolph, a cousin of several residents of the house, who apparently died after caring for her son, who had been gravely wounded in an accident. Her tombstone (pictured below) lies on the hillside, beside one of the paths leading to Arlington House.
-One of the Lees' slaves, Selina Gray, who had been left in charge of the plantation when the Lees fled, actually saved some of George Washington's personal effects from looting by Union soldiers. When Gray noticed that the occupying Union forces had begun stealing items from within Arlington House, she alerted no less than General Irvin McDowell, who had what remained of Washington's effects sent to Washington for preservation.

Below: The grave of Mary Randolph.

A Friday Blog Round-up

2009-03-13T12:44:00.000-07:00

Thought we should check the internet to see what's already been covered.

The Edwardian Promenade has several entries featuring DC History. A few highlights include:
-Booker T. Washington dines with Teddy Roosevelt
-Presidential Inauguration
-The "Colored" Aristocracy in DC

Blogs about Honest Abe
-A. Lincoln Blog
-Lincoln Studies

A Blog about Presidents at Large
- American Presidents

And lastly, a little bit of trivia for you. Yesterday marked the 76th anniversary of FDR's first Fireside Chat. One day later (today) the banks re-opened after FDR had mandated a "bank holiday."

The Rise of Punk

2009-03-11T13:34:00.000-07:00

What Motown is to Detroit, what Country is to Nashville, what the Blues are to Chicago, what Jazz is to New Orleans, and what Hip Hop is Atlanta; Punk Rock is to Washington, DC. It’s difficult to imagine this city of suits and pearl necklaces as having any kind of punk scene, let alone imagine it being located in the preppy neighborhood of Georgetown. Yet, it was there in Georgetown, and later on around Dupont Circle and Adams Morgan, that Punk Rock gained traction and became a musical genre in the 1970s and 80s.

Founded by a professor in the astronomy department in the 60s, Georgetown’s radio station WGTB primarily played light rock. However, by the 70s the oldest Jesuit university in the country’s radio station had become a haven for radical thought, featuring programs on Maoism and feminism. The station drew heavy criticism from political leaders, including the likes of Spiro Agnew, who believed that the station aired Third World propaganda. WGTB continued on in their radical ways, eventually attracting local garage bands to play in DC. The District’s first punk band was Overkill, based out of Catholic University. Other successful bands later emerged out DC, notably: The Slickee Boys, Government Issue, Bad Brains, and Fugazi. (At Right: Concert Flyer for the Slickee Boys)

Every good rock band needs a good scene, and DC had plenty that sprung up out of garages and old buildings. Among them was the Atlantis Club—sort of the CBGB of Washington. Rock bands yearned for an opportunity to play at the same locale as Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers and the Ramones. Bad Brains so wanted an opportunity at the Atlantis Club that they even wrote a song called “Jammin’ at the Atlantis Club.” Unfortunately, the Atlantis Club shut down in 1979 before Bad Brains got a chance to headline there. The owner of the club claimed that at every show the fans would destroy the building, ripping the wiring, tearing down directories. He did not mention that the building frequently violated fire codes and liquor laws. When the club reopened a year later under new ownership, it would be called Club 9:30 for it’s location at 930 F Street, NW.

With the hottest club in town shut down, punks turned elsewhere for a music venue. Enter Madams Organ up in Adams Morgan. A yippie commune founded by students from the Corcoran Gallery of Art, Madams Organ joined the music scene by hosting a pro-legalization of marijuana benefit concert every July Fourth on the National Mall. As yippies became increasingly interested in punk, they began holding more and more shows at their row house on 18th Street, mainly in order to raise money for the monthly electric bill. The house was smelly, battered, with light fixtures inside of tin cans. Naturally, it was instantly popular.

While punk gripped the city, DC was also gentrifying. In 1978, WGTB was shut down by university president Father Healy (although how a station advocating abortion counseling at a Jesuit institution had so much staying power is a mystery). Rent increased for the Madams Organ building, and no fundraiser or benefit show managed to save it. The last concerts were held in April 1980. Despite the hardship, punk remained strong in DC throughout the 80s, if only a little less prevalent.

Both the 930 Club and Madams Organ are still in existence today. 930 Club can be found at 9th and V Streets, NW. It is still one of the most popular venues in the city. A newer Madams Organ is in Adam Morgan on the 2400 block of 18th Street. Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.

To learn more about Punk Rock in DC, there’s an interesting (and free!) city tour guide at the Capitol of Punk website (http://yellowarrow.net/capitolofpunk/). There’s even a video podcast!

Sources: Mark Andersen and Mark Jenkins, Dance of Days (New York: Soft Skull Press, 2001).

Neil Augenstein, “Places That Are Gone,” (WTOP Radio Online: 2007) http://www.wtopnews.com/?sid=1018175&nid=226&pid=0.

Picture Source: Slickee Boy’s Concert Flyer, www.30underdc.com.

Bizarre Bites, Part I

2009-03-08T10:31:00.000-07:00

A few strange tidbits from the annals of Washington, DC history:

On June 5, 1663, a man named Francis Pope laid out a plantation on the land that is now the heart of the capital, stretching 17 blocks west from where the Capitol building stands today. The western boundary of this property was a creek (now gone) called the Tiber. As though having a man named Pope living on the Tiber was not enough, he also named his estate "Room." Thus, it can be said that where Washington now stands, there was once a Pope in Room on the Tiber. Ironically acting the prophet, it seems Pope was also the first to predict that a great city would one day stand on that very ground.

If you thought moving the nation's capital to southern Maryland was the last word in Congressional relocation, you are sadly mistaken. After the Confederacy's attempt to establish a wholly new capital 100 miles to the south in Richmond, a new relocation effort was led by a veteran of the Civil War, General John Logan. Logan and the good people of Missouri believed that moving the capital to St. Louis would acknowledge and include the people of the burgeoning West. The people of St. Louis adopted several resolutions but, alas, could not convince enough people in the East to disassemble the capital, ship the pieces to St. Louis, and reassemble them there.

Washington, DC was named not by Congress, or Charles L'Enfant, the city planner, or popular opinion, but by the unilateral decision of three men. These men, the first commissioners of the city, charged by congress to oversee the construction of the new capital, wrote a letter to L'Enfant on September 9, 1791 declaring that "We have agreed that the Federal District shall be called the 'Territory of Columbia,' and the Federal City the 'City of Washington.'" Apparently, everyone else simply followed suit and the city became "Washington."

Source: George Rothwell Brown, Washington: A Not Too Serious History (Baltimore: Norman Publishing Company, 1930), 3-4, 42-43, 106.

DC in the BC...and Later

2009-03-06T14:17:00.000-08:00

Below: John Smith's Map of Virginia, 1612.

It was the end of the Ice Age, and things were looking up. The glaciers were receding, causing the rising sea levels that would form the Chesapeake Bay. The climate was warming. By ten thousand BC, the first Washingtonians settled into the area. Over the next few thousand years field and forest developed.

The surrounding land of present-day Washington was rich with game and stone to make tools. Around 800 CE, experiment with agriculture began with the growing of maize. Squash, beans, and potatoes were later added to the diet. By 1500, the people around the Potomac River had become so numerous that both hunting and farming were necessary in sustaining the population of the region. The people who had settled into the area were of the Piscataway Conoy Nation, a collection of tribes unified during the 16th century in order to ward off Iroquois invaders. These Eastern Algonquian-speaking Native Americans developed a system of chiefdom whereby the leader of a village, a werowance, was subject to a single supreme chief, known as the tayac.

One of the larger villages in the region was located in present day Anacostia. Identified by Captain John Smith in his 1612 Map of Virginia, the village and people were referred to as the Nacotchtank. Smith estimated the village population to be at around 200, with 60 warriors. The village encompassed the area from Bolling Air Force Base, following the Anacostia River to Anacostia Park. The word Nacotchtank has been translated to mean "a trading town," and this town along with the Patawomeke village were the two larger villages in the region. These towns served as "gateway communities," allowing the tayac to control long-distance trade, such as beaver pelts from the north. The Nacotchtanks were variably referred to as Nacostins or Analostans, deriving the name Anacostia.

Not much is known of daily life among the Nacotchtank. What we do know is that in 1622, the English colonists burned and plundered the Nactochtank village, in order to obtain corn. The following year, Captain Henry Spelman led a group of Englishmen on trading mission along the Potomac. Spelman was an interpreter for the British and presumed himself to be in good standing with the local Native Americans. However, whilst traveling Spelman and 19 of his men were killed by the Nacostins, with one survivor, Henry Fleet, becoming captive at the Nacotchtank village.

What happened to the Nacotchtank? Escaping 5 years later, Fleet later became a skilled trader and interpreter as Spelman had been before him. Fleet's writings mention that by the 1640s the Nacotchtanks were located at a small village in the Georgetown area. A fragment population had inhabited Analostan Island, later named Mason's Island and even later referred to as Theodore Roosevelt Island. Within 40 years of contact with the Europeans, the population of the Piscataway Conoys had dwindled to one quarter of what it was when Smith first greeted them in 1608. Violence and disease had taken its toll on the Nacotchtanks who faded into obscurity by the 1680s; their lands soon covered by farm, plantation and town.

Of Interest: Captain John Smith National Historic Water Trail, http://www.nps.gov/cajo/

Sources: National Park Service, "Civil War Defenses of Washington: The Native People, " Available online: http://www.nps.gov/cwdw/historyculture/the-native-peoples.htm (March 2009).

Piscataway Conoy Tribe of Maryland, "History," Avaiable online: http://piscatawayconoy.com/content/learn/history.html (March 2009).

Stephen R. Potter, Commoners, Tribute, and Chiefs (Charlottesville, VA: University of Virginia Press, 1993).

John Smith, The Generall Historie of Virginia (London: Printed by I.D. and I.H. for Michael Sparkes, 1624).

Photo Source: John Smith, "Map of Virginia," Library of Congress, 1612.

Tourist destination number 1

2009-03-04T22:58:00.000-08:00

Above: The National Mall circa 1900, taken from the Smithsonian Castle facing the Washington Monument

Visitors to Washington DC today flock to the National Mall, undoubtedly one of the city’s most iconic sights. Interestingly enough it is also one of the city’s most fluid spaces, constantly changing as new administrations and generations of designers seek to make their mark on this grand public landscape.

Certainly, the Mall has been around since the beginning, conceived of in Pierre L’Enfant’s 1790 city plan as “a grand avenue 400 feet in breadth, and bordered with gardens,” that would serve to visually connect the new Capitol building with a still un-designed monument. Plans for the Washington Monument were later drawn up by prominent early American architect Robert Mills, and the towering obelisk was set to sit on axis with the White House, creating the ultimate axial triumvirate of White House, Monument and Capitol Building

However, L’Enfant’s plan was carried out slowly as the city emerged from the swamp, and it wasn’t until 1848 that construction was begun on the Monument using a modified version of Mill’s original design. As the structure began to rise, it became apparent that somewhat accidentally, the site chosen was about 370 feet east and 125 feet south of the location that L’Enfant had intended, tragically breaking the sacred axial relationships. Luckily, the times ‘they were a-changing’, and in his 1851 plan for the Mall, landscape architect Andrew Jackson Downing saw this mistake as his opportunity to turn the space into a sprawling romantic landscape more in tune with the Victorian sensibilities now in vogue. By the end of the 19th century the Mall had become an amazing bucolic landscape scattered with odd trees, the occasional sheep, and eventually bisected by a railroad.

This ‘loose and free’ version of the Mall was fairly short lived. After the earth shattering Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, architecture across the US took a right turn and began emulating the simplified Neo Classical buildings that had populated the fair’s stunning ‘White City’. City beautiful movements were established in major metropolitan areas all over the country, and a senator from Michigan, Robert McMillan, took it upon himself to see that Washington DC didn’t fall behind the trend. He formed a committee, later to be named the McMillan Commission, and with a roster of such architectural greats as Charles McKim, Frederick Law Olmstead Jr., and Daniel Burnham - principal architect of the Chicago Fair, they composed a new plan for Washington in 1901.

The McMillan plan was a harkening back to L’Enfant’s original designs for the city, and included the restoration of the National Mall. The railroad was removed, the central axis was re-turfed, and all trees were moved to the edges to once again give the effect of a “broad avenue.” This restructuring also re-emphasized the original axis of the Washington Monument and Capitol Building, later strengthened by the addition of the to 1922 Lincoln Memorial, and then completed, some would argue, with the 1960 construction of RFK Stadium to the east. New buildings along the Mall, like the 1910 Museum of Natural History and the 1941 National Gallery of Art, were designed using a streamlined classical ideology inspired by the Columbian Exposition. Today the red brick Smithsonian Castle, constructed by James Renwick Jr. in 1847, remains a lone survivor of the romanticized Victorian Mall.

Despite it’s major and lasting effect on the Mall’s landscape, the McMillan plan was actually only ever 50 percent completed. Perhaps because of this, every so often the idea of a more complete or finished National Mall is revisited. During World War I, several temporary structures were put up alongside the Reflecting Pool to house the influx of wartime workers, and were actually not fully removed until 1971. Following this, in 1973 a new plan to clean up the Mall and rework the pedestrian walkways and transportation systems was instituted in time for the National Bicentennial celebrations in 1976. Now a hallmark of the Mall’s landscape, new monuments also occasionally make their way into the mix, with the most recent being the World War II memorial, completed in 2004. The subject of much debate during its construction, its showy and copious water features are now beloved by tourists and residents seeking refuge from DC’s insidious swamp summers.

Currently, there is another Mall master plan on the boards, led by the National Park Service - the Mall’s official steward, and the non-profit National Trust for the Mall. Plans available here seem to show a tidying of the landscape’s more recent bucolic additions - the hot dog stands - and an increase in public friendly facilities like restrooms and water fountains. For those who are interested, they are holding hearings for the public in the upcoming weeks, offering you the opportunity to be a part of the history of this ever-changing national landmark.

Sources: “The Washington Mall Circulation Systems”. Prepared for the National Park Service, Department of the Interior, United States of America by Skidmore, Owings & Merrill. October 1973.

The National Park Service, “The L’Enfant and McMillan Plans”, http://www.nps.gov/history/Nr/travel/wash/lenfant.htm.

Photo Source: Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division: http://memory.loc.gov/service/pnp/det/4a10000/4a19000/4a19200/4a19291r.jpg

An Unbiased Assessment

2009-03-03T14:15:00.000-08:00

Above: L'Enfant's planned capital.

A few weeks ago I was speaking with a friend of mine who is enrolled in the history graduate program at Yale. He and I were discussing the merits of writing biased history - that is, writing a historical essay or book that makes plain the author's feelings about the event or person being described. This could mean anything from applying anachronistic moral standards to an historical event (e.g. 'the curse of slavery was thus brought to the shores of Virginia...'), or just making it plain how you feel about historical actors (e.g. 'In a characteristically bold stroke, Lee brilliantly...'). I was of the opinion that I would rather the author be up front about his or her opinions, rather than attempt to write an "unbiased" work that would ultimately convey the author's views in an indirect manner while feigning objectivity.

As a result, while perusing books about the history of the Washington area, I settled on two tomes from the 1930's: Washington: A Not too Serious History by George Rothwell Brown, and Virginia: The Old Dominion by Matthew Page Andrews. Both of these books reflect the time period in which they were written via their open editorializing of their subject material. Brown, for example, writing concerning the election riots I discussed in an earlier post, said that "[the riots] have cured many of any desire for a repetition of such scenes, and have convinced others that perhaps the preservation of a calm and serene atmosphere for the deliberations of Congress and the labors of the President is worth more than the right to vote." We know where Brown stands on the issue, so we can take his presentation of the subject with a grain of salt, knowing that he is likely to frame the problem in such a way as to make his reader take his side.

Andrews' Virginia is similarly up front about the opinions of the author. For example, as I was reading about the design of the Federal City, Andrews seemed to be taking pains to emphasize the contributions to the city's planning of men other than Charles L'Enfant, especially Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson, it seems, gave the city planners the layouts of several European cities, as well as Annapolis, Maryland, to use as models. Andrews claims that this was an important contribution, and that in many respects, the plan for the District resembled that of Annapolis. Not being an expert in architecture or city planning, I might be inclined to take the author at his word and believe that Jefferson powerfully influenced the design of the capital.

However, as I mentioned, Andrews seems to have really liked Jefferson. After looking further into the matter, it seems that Andrews was inclined to believe most anything Jefferson did to be good, right, and true. Indeed, discussing Jefferson's decision to leave President Washington's cabinet, Andrews declares Washington to have been an autocrat. A quick glance at Encyclopedia Brittanica further confirmed that Annapolis was not a particularly important influence in the design of the District, and that L'Enfant drew much more inspiration from Paris and other European cities. Had Andrews been more circumspect in his allegiance to Jefferson, I may well have never given the matter a second thought. As it stands, it seems President Washington's suggestion that the White House be a mile from Congress was ultimately just as influential.

Sources: George Rothwell Brown, Washington: A Not Too Serious History (Baltimore: Norman Publishing Company, 1930), 215.
Matthew Page Andrews, Virginia: The Old Dominion (Richmond: Dietz Press, 1949).

Photo Source: University of Wisconsin Digital Collection: http://digicoll.library.wisc.edu/History/data/images/NolenMadsn/reference/WashDCr.jpg

The Great Knickerbocker Storm of 1922

2009-03-02T10:11:00.000-08:00

The title of this storm alone merits mentioning it. Washington, DC’s single largest snowfall began in South Carolina on January 27, 1922, pushing slowly north. By the morning of the 28th, accumulation in the Capitol City reached 18 inches. The snow did not stop until the morning of the 29th, with the official record of snowfall reaching 26 inches, though Rock Creek Park recorded 33 inches that day.

The sheer weight of the snow collapsed the roof upon moviegoers at Crandall’s Knickerbocker Theatre; the largest theatre in DC at the time. The collapse killed 98 and injured 133; making it one DC’s all time worst disasters. To make it more tragic, the owner owner of the theatre, Harry S. Crandall, committed suicide in 1937, leaving a note reading, "I'm despondent and I miss my theatre so much." For more information on the storm visit the Washington Post's article (A Winter's Tale of Tragedy) or the DCist's blog posting (Knickerbocker Storm).

As for me, I’m trying to come up with a name for last night’s 6 inch snowfall that will go down in history like the “Knickerbocker Storm.” The best I’ve got so far is the “Day of the Ugg Boots 2009.”

Picture Source: Washingtonian Division, DC Public Library.

Working for the Weekend

2009-03-01T10:21:00.000-08:00

It’s the weekend. My favorite time of the week; a time for sleeping late, brunch, concerts, movies, restaurants, and of course the Smithsonian. Ah yes, how would the both the Washingtonian and tourist live without the Smithsonian? Not completed until 1846, how did they ever live without it?

For starters, visiting government buildings was quite popular among visitors. One could check out the new inventions at the Patent Office located where the Old Post Office building stands. Over at the Bureau of Indian Affairs, one could study the portraits of Native American chiefs painted by Charles Bird King. But all that gets dull after awhile, and through my researching I’m left with two conclusions on public pastimes prior to the Smithsonian: there was the theatre and there was horse racing.

At the turn of the 19th century DC was a fairly rural community, just beginning to sprout up. The town’s population totaled at just a little over 8,000—that’s not promising for those who love the nightlife. Despite the small population, by 1805 the District managed to have one theatre, the Washington Theatre. The theatre was located on the northeast corner of 11th and C Streets and was described by Londoner Francis Trollope as small, dirty, and lacking décor. She was appalled by the coarse manners of American men, who would stretch out over the box seats, constantly chewing and spitting tobacco. Indeed, the night Ms. Trollope visited she witnessed one man in a fit of vomiting, commenting that no one around him seemed bothered in the slightest. Sadly, the theatre burnt down in 1820. It was rebuilt in the same location and managed by Italian musician Gaetano Carusi. The Washington Theatre, known as Carusi’s Saloon or the City Assembly Rooms, later played host to President John Quincy Adams’s inaugural ball.

On to horse racing. It is believed that the earliest racetrack was an oval located between 17th and 20th Streets, across from Pennsylvania Avenue and in to Lafayette Park. It was operating as early as 1797. A short time later, another track opened in what is now the South Petworth area, just west of the Soldiers Home. Both of these tracks are believed to have been run John Tayloe, DC’s wealthiest resident (of the Octagon House no less) and avid horse breeder. So popular was racing, that the Washington Jockey Club was founded in 1821 to regulate the races. The Club established gate tolls, types of heats to be run, entry fees, and appointment of the judges. Incidentally, the Jockey Club outlawed gambling in any form. Their attempt at morality failed, as they were wholly unable to stop wagering. Bet you didn’t know there was a racetrack that close to the White House!

Sources: Robert Harrigan, Pastimes in Washington(Bowie, MD: Heritage Books, 2002).

Campbell Gibson, “Population of the 100 Largest Cities” (US Census Bureau: 1998).

Taxation without Representation!

2009-02-27T10:21:00.000-08:00

Left: The imposing Northern Liberties Market.

If you live in Washington, you know that "taxation without representation" is a semi-official slogan for the District; there is a great deal of resentment within the city about our lone, non-voting representative in Congress. For the moment, the idea of giving voting rights to the residents of the capital is again on the Congressional agenda, and whether or not anything comes of the newest effort to grant representation to the people here, at least the arguments laid against the legislation are entertaining. Consider, for example, the longstanding idea that the work of politicians should be conducted in an environment free from the turmoil and posturing of politics.

Painfully ironic? Yes. Legitimate? Maybe.

In 1857, the Know-Nothing party was gaining strength across the country and specifically in Washington, DC. The Know-Nothings were the party of xenophobia, and worked to undermine the rights of immigrants in the United States. On June 1, 1857, when the polls opened for the mayoral election in Washington, Know-Nothings across the city attempted to physically bar naturalized foreign-born citizens from voting. In addition to local thugs, a large group of Plug Uglies (a gang which existed in many cities in the US) from Baltimore came to the District by train to help enforce the Know-Nothings' intimidation scheme. To prove that they were serious, the Plug Uglies brought a number of firearms and a brass cannon loaded with cobblestones.

The Know-Nothing riot, exacerbated by the Plug Uglies, compelled the otherwise inert President Buchanan to call in the Marines. A confrontation ensued outside of the Northern Liberties Market (today Mt. Vernon Square), where the polls had closed early in the day because of the rioting. The Plug Uglies were ultimately dispersed, but not before exchanging fire with the Marines, resulting in nearly two dozen casualties.

Elections, admittedly, can get rowdy. But hey, democracy is messy, right?

Source: George Rothwell Brown, Washington: A Not Too Serious History (Baltimore: Norman Publishing Company, 1930).

Picture Source: http://mvtriangle.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html

What the Francis Scott Key Happened to that House?

2009-02-26T08:31:00.000-08:00

“Lost!? What do you mean lost? How big is this house, and who lost it?” I exclaimed, while sitting in my doctor’s office, discussing history’s mysteries. My doctor replied, “Francis Scott Key’s house was a two or three story brick house, and they were planning to relocate it. They dismantled it and lost it in the process. Nobody knows where it is now.” Huh, go figure. The house of an American hero and author of the “Star Spangled Banner” was lost. We concluded that the Key homestead must have been placed in an undisclosed government warehouse along with the Ark from Indiana Jones.

Weeks later, I was walking across the Key Bridge into Georgetown when I stumbled upon the small Francis Scott Key Memorial Park. A plaque in the park stated that this was the location of the original Key residence. The story my doctor told me resurfaced in my mind. We know the house was lost, but who lost it and why was it to be relocated in the first place?

Built in 1803, the house was located at 3516-18 M Street, NW. Key was residing at this house in 1814 when he headed to Baltimore to secure the release of Dr. William Beanes, a prisoner of the British. Taken prisoner himself, Key watched the Battle of Baltimore from the Chesapeake Bay. When the smoke cleared, Key was inspired to write the poem that would one day become the United States of America’s national anthem.

The Key family vacated the house in the 1830s due to the turbulence of the then operating C&O Canal. Time passed, and the house fell into disrepair. Admiral George Dewey, hero of the Civil and Spanish-American War, led the first effort to preserve the Key House in the early 1900s. The Francis Scott Key Memorial Association was a commercial operation dedicated to preserving the house. Revenue was generated through house tours and general donations. Certificates were granted to those making donations (see image). Demonstrating the popularity of the song in American culture, it’s worth noting that preservation efforts began prior to when the “Star Spangled Banner” was made the national anthem in 1931.

The Francis Scott Key Memorial Bridge was constructed by the U.S. Army Corps of engineers between 1917 and 1923. The government purchased the Key home in 1930. Little effort was made to restore it. Traffic congestion in Georgetown in the 1940s brought a push for the demolition of the Key House in order to make room for a clover entryway onto the Bridge. Though the Historical Society of Washington, DC fought hard to preserve the building, the home eventually fell victim to the ever-increasing freeways of the 1950s. Once dismantled, Congress passed a bill that would finance the reassembly of the house and give it to The Historical Society. However, this bill was vetoed by President Harry Truman for budgetary reasons. And so the house disappeared during roadway construction and was last seen in 1947. Personally, I’m still holding out for the undisclosed government warehouse theory.

Sources: The Historical Society of Washington, DC, “About Us,” 2008, http://www.historydc.org/about/HSW_History.asp.

F. Regis Noel, “Preservation of the Residence of Francis Scott Key,” Washington, DC: Columbia Historical Society, January 1947.

Picture Source: http://greensleeves.typepad.com/berkshires/

Still Thinking about the Inauguration?

2009-02-24T18:23:00.000-08:00

If the wait between our presidential election in November and subsequent inauguration in January seemed interminable, we can at least seek comfort in the knowledge that our forebears had much longer to wait. Prior to the administration of Franklin Roosevelt, Americans had to wait until March to see their new president sworn in. So, while President Obama has been in office for a month, at this time in 1829 Andrew Jackson still had two weeks of thumb-dwiddling to endure; and while he did not have to watch the nation's economy slowly dissolve, he did have to witness the seeds of discord being sown within his administration.

On New Year's day of 1829, Jackson's Secretary of War, John Eaton, had married a woman named Margaret Timberlake. Mrs. Eaton was the subject of abundant rumors in Washington concerning her supposed indiscretions while married to her first husband. Eaton himself was believed to have been one of her lovers while she had still been married. In the months before Jackson's inauguration, the Eatons had called at the home of John Calhoun, who was to be Jackson's Vice President. They were greeted coolly by Calhoun's wife, Floride, and were not, as was customary at the time, repaid with a recipricol visit from the Calhouns.

News of the Eatons' rejection soon spread through the city, and by February 26, John Quincy Adams, still president of the nation, would write that Washington was, "much scandalized by the ascendancy of Mrs. Eaton." By the time Jackson finally took the oath of office, deep divides over Margaret Eaton, and the sexual scandal she represented, would already have split Jackson's cabinet irrevocably. Ultimately, the vast majority would resign in protest to Eaton's continued service as Secretary of State.

Source: Jon Meacham, American Lion: Jackson in the White House (New York: Random House, 2008).
Picture Source: www.historyteacher.net

Your Suggestions

2009-02-24T18:00:00.000-08:00

Live in DC or visit the city often? Found a neat little museum or an unknown old house? Read a good book about DC history lately? We're always looking for suggestions of lesser-known sites to visit and stories to read concerning Washington history. Let us know in the comments section of this post.

What's in a Name?

2009-02-24T17:46:00.000-08:00

As a blog about DC history, we of course worked hard to seek out the most obscure pseudonym this city has witnessed in her over 200 year history. We settled on The Ten Miles Square, which is one of the epithets the city's namesake applied to the new capital in his letters. Outside of being a cool name for the city used by George Washington, The Ten Miles Square is also a convenient reminder that the nation's founders carved out a tiny center of power in the middle of nowhere. When the city began, it was truly little more than an indistinguishable square in a marshy forest. A few things have changed since then...