wife, Martha Wayles Jefferson, where he wished himself and family to
be laid. It is on a gentle slope of the mountain, to the right of the
road, surrounded by lofty oaks and pines, with all the solemn beauty
and stillness of the primeval forest.
A few hundred yards from the cemetery the entrance to the lawn
is reached, and a glimpse of the grand scenery spread below is
seen. Keeping to the right, we pass the ruins of the celebrated
“nail-factory,” with its solitary chimney festooned with ivy.
Farther on, a solitary grave surrounded by a stone wall, marks the
resting-place of the mother of Commodore Levy, who died here. Next we
come to the “weaving-room,” which is now the manager’s house. Here we
are met by a coloured porter, who, though looking quite venerable, does
not lay claim to being Mr. Jefferson’s body-servant, though for a few
pennies he will tell you some wonderful stories of him, and point out
with pride the many objects of interest. Approaching the mansion up the
east lawn, the visitor will stand for a moment and glance at the clock
over the door and the weather-vane overhead, which had so often been
scanned by the great philosopher. Then reverently entering the double
glass doors, he will find himself in the famous hall where Jefferson
was wont to meet and greet his visitors.
On the right hangs a full-length portrait of Commodore Levy in full
naval uniform; it is a majestic and striking picture of this noted
officer; while opposite is a model of the _Vandalia_, the flag-ship in
which he sailed around the world. Many other paintings adorn the room
which will claim a close and special notice. In the large parlour or
_salon_ hangs a full-size portrait of Madam Rachel Levy, the mother of
Commodore Levy, who was styled the “American Beauty” while in Europe,
a term not inappropriately given if we may judge by the beautiful
features before us. The furniture in this room is of the rich antique
pattern, to represent the period of Mr. Jefferson’s term as ambassador,
while from the ceiling hangs a magnificent chandelier of an old English
style for candles. A similar one hangs in the dining-room, both having
been imported direct from Europe by Mr. Levy, and are said to have once
graced the palace of the Empress Josephine at _Malmaison_.
The glass doors, the polished floors of parquetry, the antique
furniture and ancient portraits, all lend a baronial aspect of the past
century in close keeping with its appearance during Mr. Jefferson’s
time.
The grounds and exterior appointments are well preserved. Scattered
over the rich green lawn are rustic benches, statuary, vases and
urns of fragrant plants. Here, beneath stately elms, locust and
chestnut-trees, the visitor can sit and feast the eye upon the vast
landscape on every side.
Half a dozen English spaniels sport on the green lawn, while upon the
steep, craggy side of the mountain eight or ten deer can occasionally
be seen, which are parked by a high picket-fence. The rear, or
south-west, lawn is equally beautiful: from this point is to be seen
the mystical looming of Willis’s Mountain in Buckingham County, forty
miles away, which would be usually pointed out by Mr. Jefferson to his
visitors; then to stand on the north-west side of the pavilion and view
the University, with the city of Charlottesville spread in the valley
below in all its peaceful repose and beauty, while far beyond stretches
the vast range of the Blue Ridge, embracing an extent of vision nearly
fifty miles in length, which forms a picture such as will repay a
journey of several thousand miles to behold.
THE WILLIAM PENN HOUSE, PHILADELPHIA
JOHN F. WATSON
It is a matter of inquiry and doubt at this day (1828) which has
been the house in Letitia Court, wherein William Penn, the founder
and Colonel Markham, the Lieutenant-Governor, dwelt.[15] The popular
opinion now is, that the inn at the head of the court, occupied as the
Leopard Inn and since Penn Hall is the identical house alluded to. The
cause of this modern confidence is ascribable (even if there were no
better ground of assurance) to the fact, that this building, since they
built the additional end to the westward, of about eighteen to twenty
feet, presents such an imposing front towards High Street, and so
entirely closes the court at that end (formerly open as a cart passage)
that from that cause alone, to those not well-informed it looks as the
principal house, and may have therefore been regarded by transient
passengers as Penn’s house.
[Illustration: THE WILLIAM PENN HOUSE, PHILADELPHIA]
The truth is that for many years the great mass of the population had
dropt or lost the tradition about Penn’s house in the court; and it is
only of later years, antiquities beginning to excite some attention,
that the more intelligent citizens have revived some of their former
hearings about the court. During all the earlier years of my life, I
never heard of Penn living there at all; but of later years I have. I
have been, therefore, diligent to ask old men about it. Several said it
never used to be spoken of in their youth. John Warder, an intelligent
merchant, now above seventy-three years of age, was born at the corner
house of the alley on High Street, and has told me he never was told
of Penn’s living there, when a boy. On the other hand, a few old men
have told me, at every period of their life the tradition (though known
to but few) was, that it was one of two houses, to wit--either Doyle’s
Inn, or the old Rising Sun Inn on the western side of the alley. Joseph
Sansom, Esq., about sixty, told me he heard and believed it was the
house at the head of the court, and so also some few others; but more
persons, of more weight in due knowledge of the subject, have told
me they had been always satisfied it was the old Rising Sun Inn on
the western side of the court. Timothy Matlack, aged ninety-two, who
was very inquisitive, and knew it from fourteen years of age, said it
was then the chief house in the court as to character; it was a very
popular inn for many years (whereas Doyle’s house was not an inn till
many years afterwards), that it then had an alley on its northern side
for a cart way running out to Second Street, and agreeing with “Penn’s
gate over against Friends’ Meeting,” etc., at which place his Council,
1685, required King James’s proclamation to be read.
This name Letitia house I found was a name which even those who thought
the house at the head of the court was Penn’s, granted that Letitia
Penn dwelt in, even while the father may have occupied the other. In
this they were certainly in some error; Letitia being an unmarried
girl, could never have had a separate house; she was not with her
father till his second visit in 1700. It was in Penn’s first visit
only, in 1682, that he could have dwelt there.
I infer from the facts that Penn had “his cottage” built there before
his landing by Colonel Markham; that some of the finer work was
imported for it with the first vessels; that he used it as often as
not at his “palace” at Pennsbury. After him, it was used by Colonel
Markham, his Deputy Governor; and afterwards for public offices. That
in 1700, when he used the Slate-house, corner of Second Street and
Norris Alley, having a mind to confer something upon his daughter,
then with him, he gave her a deed, 1 mo. 29th, 1701, for all that half
square lying on High Street and including said house. Several years
after this event, the people, as was their custom, when the court began
to be built up on each side of a “36 feet alley,” having no name for
it, they, in reference to the last conspicuous owner, called it Letitia
Court, in reference to the then most conspicuous house; the same house
so given to Penn by his daughter.
If we would contemplate this Letitia house in its first relations, we
should consider it as having an open area to the river the whole width
of the half square, with here and there retained an ornamental clump of
forest trees and shrubbery on either side of an avenue leading out to
the Front Street; having a garden of fruit trees on the Second Street
side and on Second Street “the Governor’s Gate,” so called “opposite
to the lot of the Friends’ Great Meeting.” By this gate the carriages
entered and rode along the avenue by the north side of the house to the
east front of the premises.
This general rural appearance was in all accordance with Penn’s known
taste, and was doubtless so continued until the ground was apportioned
out in thirty city lots, as expressed by James Logan in a letter to
Letitia Aubrey, in the year 1737.
The following facts present scraps of information which may tend still
further to illustrate the proper history of the premises, to wit:
“Pitch upon the very middle of the platt of the towne, to be laid
facing the harbour, for the situation of the house.” Thus intimating,
as I conceive, the choice of Letitia Court, and intimating his desire
to have it facing the river, “as the line of houses of the towne should
be.”
The Slate-Roof house still standing at the south-east corner of Norris
Alley and Second Street, and now reduced to a lowly appearance, derives
its chief interest from having been the residence of William Penn. The
peculiarity of its original construction, and the character of several
of its successive inmates, will enhance its interest to the modern
reader. The facts concerning the premises, so far as may now be known,
are generally these, to wit:
The house was originally built, in the early origin of the city, for
Samuel Carpenter--certainly one of the earliest and greatest improvers
of the primitive city. It was probably designed for his own residence,
although he had other houses on the same square, nearer to the river.
It was occupied as the city residence of William Penn and family,
while in Philadelphia on his second visit in 1700;[16] in which
house was born, in one month after their arrival, John Penn, “the
American”--the only one of the race ever born in the country. To that
house, therefore, humble, degenerated, and altered in aspect as it now
is, we are to appropriate all our conceptions of Penn’s employments,
meditations, hopes, fears, etc., while acting as Governor and
proprietary among us. In those doors he went in and out--up and down
those stairs he passed--in those chambers he reposed--in those parlours
he dined or regaled his friends--through those garden grounds he
sauntered. His wife, his daughter Letitia, his family and his servants
were there. In short, to those who can think and feel, the place is
filled with local impressions. Such a house should be rescued from its
present forlorn neglect; it ought to be bought and consecrated to some
lasting memorial of its former character, by restoring its bastions and
salient angles, etc. It would be to the character of such Societies
as the Historical and Penn Association, etc., to club their means to
preserve it for their chambers, etc., as long as themselves and the
city may endure.
After William Penn had left this house, on his intended return
with his family to England, he, while aboard his return ship the
_Messenger_ (an appropriate name for the message and business he
was purposing!) writes on the 3d of September, 1701, to James Logan,
saying: “Thou may continue in the house I lived in till the year is up.”
James Logan in reply, in 1702, says: “I am forced to keep this house
still, there being no accommodation to be had elsewhere for public
business.” In fact, he retained it as a government house till 1704,
when he and his coadjutors moved to Clark’s Hall in Chestnut Street,
afterwards Pemberton’s great house.
James Logan, in a letter to William Penn of 5th December, 1703, says
Samuel Carpenter “has sold the house thou lived in” to William Trent
(the founder of Trenton in 1719) for £850.
At this house Lord Cornbury, then Governor of New York and New Jersey
(son of Lord Clarenden, cousin of Queen Anne), was banqueted in great
style in 1702, on the occasion of his being invited by James Logan,
from Burlington, where he had gone to proclaim the Queen. Logan’s
letter, speaking of the event, says he was dined “equal, as he said,
to anything he had seen in America.” At night he was invited to Edward
Shippen’s (great house in south Second Street) where he was lodged
and dined with all his company, making a retinue of nearly thirty
persons. He went back well pleased with his reception, via Burlington,
in the Governor’s barge, and was again banqueted at Pennsbury by James
Logan, who had preceded him for that purpose. Lord Cornbury there
had a retinue of about fifty persons, which accompanied him thither
in four boats. His wife was once with him in Philadelphia, in 1703.
Penn, on one occasion, calls him a man of luxury and poverty. He was
at first very popular; and having made many fine promises to Penn, it
was probably deemed good policy to cheer his vanity by striking public
entertainments. In time, however, his extravagant living and consequent
extortion, divested him of all respect among the people.
In 1709, “the slated-roof house of William Trent” is thus commended
by James Logan as a suitable residence for him as Governor, saying:
“William Trent, designing for England, is about selling his house
(that he bought of Samuel Carpenter) which thou lived in, with the
improvement of a beautiful garden,”--then extending half-way to Front
Street and on Second Street nearly down to Walnut Street. “I wish it
could be made thine, as nothing in this town is so well fitting a
Governor. His price is _£_900 of our money, which it is hard thou
canst not spare. I would give £20 to £30 out of my own pocket that it
were thine--nobody’s but thine.”
The house, however, was sold to Isaac Norris, who devised it to
his son, Isaac, through whom it has descended down to the present
proprietor, Sarah Norris Dickinson, his grand-daughter (1828).
It was occupied at one period, it is said, by Governor Hamilton,
and, for many years preceding the war of Independence, it was deemed
a superior boarding house. While it held its rank as such, it was
honoured with the company, and, finally, with the funeral honours of
General Forbes (successor to General Braddock), who died in that house
in 1759. The pomp of his funeral from that house surpassed all the
simple inhabitants had before seen in their lives. His horse was led
before the procession, richly caparisoned,--the whole conducted in all
“the pomp of war,” with funeral dirges, and a military array with arms
reversed, etc.[17]
In 1764, it was rented to be occupied as a distinguished boarding-house
by the widow Graydon, mother of Captain Graydon of Carlisle,
who has left us his amusing _Memoirs of Sixty Years’ Life in
Pennsylvania_. There his mother, as he informs us, had a great
many gentry as lodgers. He describes the old house as very much of a
castle in construction, although built originally for a Friend. “It
was a singular, old-fashioned structure, laid out in the style of a
fortification, with abundance of angles, both salient and re-entering.
Its two wings projected to the street in the manner of bastions, to
which the main building, retreating from sixteen to eighteen feet,
served for a curtain.[18]... It had a spacious yard, half way to Front
Street, and ornamented with a double row of venerable lofty pines,
which afforded a very agreeable _rus in urbe_.” She continued
there till 1768–1769, when she removed to Drinker’s big house, up Front
Street, near to Race Street. Graydon’s anecdotes of distinguished
persons, especially of British officers and gentry who were inmates,
are interesting. John Adams and other members of the First Congress had
their lodgings in the “Slate-House.”
THE CATHEDRAL, MEXICO
THOMAS UNETT BROCKLEHURST
When Cortes conquered the country, he had instructions from Ferdinand
and Isabella, from Charles V. and from Pope Alexander IV. to
Christianize it; and this part of his duty, with the help of his
army of priests and the formidable terrors of the Inquisition, he
accomplished all too zealously. The successive Spanish Viceroys
completed the work in the spirit of their age; indeed, in such a
manner, that when the books are opened and the last seal broken, the
cries of the heathen will most probably drown the anthems of the
saints. The Old Testament injunction, “Thou shall utterly destroy the
heathen from amongst you,” without a single gleam from the brightness
of the Sermon from the Mount, has under no circumstances been more
rigorously enforced than by Spain in Mexico and Peru; and what remains
of her glories, but the bitterest of bitter feeling in Mexico, and the
hatred of her Cuban subjects?
In the Conquest of Mexico it was the rule to destroy all the high
places and all vestiges of the ancient worship. The Teocalli or temples
were levelled to the ground; crosses were set up, and churches built on
their sites. The magnificent Cathedral of Mexico stands over the spot
where the high altar of Montezuma and his predecessors once ran with
the blood of human sacrifices. The first church on this site, after the
destruction of the Teocalli, was founded by Charles V. His successor,
Philip, ordered it to be pulled down, and commenced the erection of the
present structure in 1573. It was not finished and dedicated until the
22d of December, 1657. It has a fine dome and two open towers, each 218
feet high, in which are large bells exposed to view. The length of the
building is 426 feet; the architecture is Doric; the railings of the
choir, and the passage to the high altar were made of _tumbago_,
manufactured at Macao in China, and weighing twenty-six tons. It is
a brassy-looking metal, composed of silver, gold and copper, but
contains so much gold, that an offer has been made to replace it with
pure silver, and give many thousand dollars in addition. The cost of
the Cathedral, that is, of the walls alone, was over $2,000,000. The
interior of the building forms a Greek cross, and is divided into five
naves. On either side of the main nave are wide chapels, elaborately
adorned and enclosed by bronze gates; the walls are clothed with
pictures in rich old Spanish gold frames; and at one time a Murillo
stood over the high altar, but the present archbishop, wise in his
generation, after the robbery of a famous picture from a church in
Spain, caused it to be removed to the archiepiscopal palace, where it
now hangs. There is no stained glass in the windows, and there are no
such luxuries as pews; Indian and Hidalgo, Aztec and Spaniard, peon and
peasant, kneel on the bare boards. One rude bench is reserved for the
old and infirm.
[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF MEXICO, MEXICO]
The choir is one mass of elaborate carving; the choir books, dating
from 1620, are of vellum, and painted in black letters. Close to the
choir is a magnificent altar, supported by green marble columns
resembling malachite. A rich balustrade of _tumbago_ connects
the altar and the choir. The picture of the Virgin, in the central
nave, was painted by Cabrena in 1700, and a St. Sebastian, in one of
the chapels, by Balthasor de Echavi in 1645. The glory of the cupola
was painted by Simeno de Planes; on the first plane are placed the
ancient patriarchs and the celebrated women of the Old Testament, the
colours being as vivid at this moment as when laid in. The balustrade
surrounding the grand altar is also of _tumbago_, as are the
sixty-two statues which serve as chandeliers. The high altar is
approached by seven steps, the tabernacle is supported by eight ranges
of pillars in the form of a colonnade, on the first of which stand the
statues of the Apostles and the Evangelists, while those of numerous
saints occupy the second range. On the third appear groups of angels,
and, rising from the midst, the Mother of God.
The sacristy is fitted up with oak, black as ebony from age, with
several large pictures. I often looked into it, and one day I found
two or three priests indulging in a quiet chat after Mass, while the
attendants folded away the rich vestments. A padre, seeing I was a
stranger, offered to show me the magnificent set of vestments worked
for the Cathedral by command of Isabella of Spain; they are of cloth
of gold, encrusted with gems, and in panels passages from Holy Writ
are worked exquisitely in silk, so as to have the effect of the
finest painting; it is only on close inspection that I could discover
the traces of the needle. These gorgeous vestments are useless for
practical purposes, for they are so heavy that no man of ordinary
dimensions could sustain their immense weight for more than a few
minutes. Saying mass, or even pronouncing the benediction in them, is
out of the question. By the kindness of the padre I was also permitted
to view the great council chamber, part and parcel of the Cathedral, in
which the councils of the bishops were held, the Archbishop of Mexico
presiding on a great gilded throne. This is indeed a noble apartment;
it has an open groined roof, and around the walls are portraits of
suffragan bishops of Mexico--copies only, for the originals are hung
in a sort of secret chamber, to which I was subsequently conducted.
This chamber was approached through the gates of a side altar, and
the cicerone touched a--to me--invisible spring; a door of maximum
thickness slowly opened to admit us to a sort of crypt, with formidably
barred windows, around which hang the original portraits of the bishops
from first to last, in splendid preservation. In this apartment was a
massive oaken table, with a sort of funnel in the middle of it. It is
on this table that the offerings of the faithful, after a collection,
are deposited, counted, and dropped through the funnel into huge,
grim-looking, iron-bound boxes, which stood about the room.
During my stay in Mexico excavations were being made in front of the
Cathedral to convert the paved ground into a garden, and but a few
feet below the surface some octagonal columns of the first church were
discovered; also two heads of large stone serpents, some ten feet long
and five feet in depth and in thickness; the carving of the feathered
ornaments on the heads was perfect; they had originally been the
capitals to the doorposts of the pagan temple of Montezuma, and these
interesting fragments of both temple and primitive church were conveyed
with much labour and care to the National Museum.
THE WHIPPLE HOUSE, IPSWICH
W. H. DOWNES
The old house bought by the Ipswich Historical Society is the best
surviving example in New England of the earliest Seventeenth-Century
colonial architecture. There are several finer and grander specimens of
the domestic architecture of later periods in Essex County, but in all
the category of colonial houses there is no such perfectly preserved
and authentic type of the domestic architecture of the middle of the
Seventeenth Century. The exact date of its erection is unknown, but all
the valid evidence available, in the absence of documentary records
bearing directly on this point, indicates that it was built as early as
1650, and there are architects who believe that it was erected still
earlier. The extreme rarity of houses dating from that remote period,
so soon after the settlement of Massachusetts, is due primarily to
the limited longevity of wooden building, and secondarily to the fact
that the colonists were at first obliged by the paucity of proper
building materials to erect only temporary cabins of logs, which were
subsequently abandoned and neglected, after more comfortable dwellings
were made possible by the establishment of saw-mills and forges and
roads. Ipswich was settled in 1633. The first saw-mill in the town was
established in 1649. The great posts and girders, with other surviving
timbers of the frame of the old house in question, bear no marks of the
axe or the adze, and it would be a fair inference that they were
sawed, though not necessarily by water power, for we know that some
extensive sawing was done by hand in sawpits.
[Illustration: WHIPPLE HOUSE, IPSWICH, MASS.]