CITY RESIDENCES OF BRICK
As the city of Philadelphia grew and became more densely populated, land
values increased greatly, and the custom developed of building brick
residences in blocks fronting directly on the street, the party walls
being located on the side property lines. Like the country houses
already described, these were laid up in Flemish bond with alternating
red stretcher and black header bricks, and thus an entire block
presented a straight, continuous wall, broken only by a remarkably
regular scheme of doorways and fenestration, and varied only by slight
differences in the detail of doors and windows, lintels, cornices and
dormers. These plain two-or three-story brick dwellings in long rows, in
street after street, with white marble steps and trimmings, green or
white shutters, each intended for one family, have been perpetuated
through the intervening years, and now as then form the dominant feature
of the domestic architecture of the city proper.
For the most part these were single-front houses, that is to say, the
doorway was located to the right or left with two windows at one side,
while on the stories above windows ranged with the doorway, making three
windows across each story. There were exceptions, however, the so-called
Morris house at Number 225 South Eighth Street being a notable example
of a characteristic double-front house of the locality and period. They
were gable-roof structures with high chimneys in the party walls,
foreshortened, third-story windows and from one to three dormers
piercing the roof.
At the end of the block the wall was often carried up above the ridge
between a pair of chimneys and terminated in a horizontal line,
imparting greater stability to the chimney construction and lending an
air of distinction to the whole house, which was further enhanced by
locating the entrance directly beneath in the end wall rather than in
the side of the building. The famous old Wistar house at the southeast
corner of Fourth and Locust streets is a case in point.
Pedimental dormers were the rule, sometimes with round-headed windows.
Elaborate molded wood cornices were a feature, often with prominent,
even hand-tooled modillions. Slightly projecting belts of brick courses,
marble or other stone marked the floor levels, and keyed stone lintels
were customary, although in some of the plainer houses the window frames
were set between ordinary courses of brickwork, without decoration of
any sort. Most of the windows had either six-or nine-paned upper and
lower sashes with third-story windows foreshortened in various ways.
There were paneled shutters at the first-story windows and often on the
second story as well, although blinds were sometimes used on the second
story and rarely on the third. The high, deeply recessed doorways, with
engaged columns or fluted pilasters supporting handsome entablatures or
pediments, and beautifully paneled doors, often with a semicircular
fanlight above, were characteristic of most Philadelphia entrances.
Before them, occupying part of the sidewalk, was a single broad stone
step, or at times a stoop consisting of a flight of three or four steps
with a simple wrought-iron handrail, sometimes on both sides, but often
on only one side. Other common obstructions in the sidewalk were
areaways at one or two basement windows and a rolling way with inclined
double doors giving entrance from the street to the basement.
[Illustration: PLATE XVIII.--Detail of Cliveden Facade; Detail of
Bartram House Facade.]
[Illustration: PLATE XIX.--The Highlands, Skippack Pike, Whitemarsh.
Erected in 1796 by Anthony Morris.]
Many of these city residences were of almost palatial character, built
by wealthy merchants and men in political life who thought it expedient
to live near their wharves and countinghouses or within easy distance of
the seats of city, provincial and later of national government.
Beautiful gardens occupied the backyards of many such dwellings,
affording veritable oases in a desert of bricks and mortar, yet many of
the more affluent citizens maintained countryseats along the
Schuylkill or elsewhere in addition to their town houses.
The location of many of these early city dwellings of brick was such
that as the city grew they became undesirable as places of residence.
Business encroached upon them more and more, so that, except for houses
which have remained for generations in the same family or have historic
interest sufficient to have brought about their preservation by the
city, relatively few still remain in anything like their original
condition. Of the quaint two-and three-story dwellings of modest though
delightfully distinctive character, which once lined the narrow streets
and alleys, most have become squalid tenements and small alien stores,
or else have been utilized for commercial purposes. To walk through
Combes Alley and Elfret Alley is to sense what once was and to realize
the trend of the times, but there is much material for study in these
rapidly decaying old sections that repay a visit by the architect and
student.
Happily, however, one of these typical little streets is to be
perpetuated in something like its pristine condition. Camac Street, "the
street of little clubs", has become one of the unique features of the
city,--a typically American "Latin Quarter." To enter this little,
narrow, rough-paved alley, running south from Walnut Street between
Twelfth and Thirteenth streets, is like stepping back a century or
more. The squatty little two and a half story houses with picturesque
doorways and dormer windows have become the homes of numerous clubs
representing the best art interests of the city. Poor Richard Club,
Plastic Club, Sketch Club, Coin d'Or and Franklin Inn are among the
names to be seen painted on the signs beside the doors. The houses and
their gardens in the rear have been restored and provide excellent club,
exhibition and lecture rooms, at the same time preserving some fine
examples of a rapidly passing type of early American architecture. Would
that a similar course might be taken by local societies in every large
American city where a wealth of Colonial architecture exists!
Among the fine old single-front houses of particular interest which have
suffered through the encroachment of business upon the former
residential sections of the city are the Blackwell house, Number 224
Pine Street, and the Wharton house, Number 336 Spruce Street.
The former was in many respects the most elegant residence in
Philadelphia, built almost without regard to cost by a man of great
wealth, whose taste and refinement called for luxurious living and a
beautiful home. The interior woodwork surpassed in design and execution
anything to be found elsewhere in the city. Many of the doorways had
fluted pilasters, heavily molded casings and carved broken pediments.
The doors were of mahogany as was likewise the wainscoting of the
staircases. The sides of the rooms where fireplaces were located were
completely paneled to the ceiling, and above the fireplace openings were
narrow panels on which were hunting scenes done in mastic. Some years
ago much of this beautiful woodwork was removed, and to-day, despoiled
of its former architectural splendor, dingy and dilapidated, the shell
of the building is used as a cigar factory.
The house was built about 1765 by John Stamper, a wealthy English
merchant, who had been successively councilman, alderman and finally
mayor of Philadelphia in 1759. He bought the whole south side of Pine
Street from Second to Third from the Penns in 1761, and for many years
the house was surrounded by a garden containing flowers, shrubs and
fruit trees. Later the house passed into the hands of Stamper's
son-in-law, William Bingham, Senior, and afterwards to Bingham's
son-in-law, the Reverend Doctor Robert Blackwell.
Doctor Blackwell was the son of Colonel Jacob Blackwell, of New York,
who owned extensive estates on Long Island along the East River,
Blackwell's Island being included. After graduating from Princeton,
Robert Blackwell studied first medicine and then theology. After several
years of tutoring at Philipse Manor, he was ordained to the ministry and
served the missions at Gloucester and St. Mary's, Colestown, New
Jersey. When both congregations were scattered by the Revolution, he
joined the Continental Army at Valley Forge as both chaplain and
surgeon. In 1870 he married Hannah Bingham, whose considerable fortune,
added to the estate of his father which he soon after inherited, made
him the richest clergyman in America and one of the richest men in
Philadelphia. The following year he was called to assist Doctor White,
the rector of Christ Church and St. Peter's, and to the latter Doctor
Blackwell chiefly devoted himself until his resignation in 1811 due to
failing health. It was the services of these united parishes which
Washington, his Cabinet and members of Congress attended frequently. On
Doctor Blackwell's death in 1831 the house passed into the Willing
family and has since changed owners many times.
The Wharton house, Number 336 Spruce Street, was built in 1796 by Samuel
Pancoast, a house carpenter, who sold it to Mordecai Lewis, a prominent
merchant in the East India trade, shipowner, importer and one-time
partner of William Bingham, the brother-in-law of Doctor Blackwell, and
whose palatial mansion in Third Street above Spruce was one of the most
exclusive social centers of the city. Mordecai Lewis was a director of
the Bank of North America, the Philadelphia Contributorship for the
Insurance of Houses from Loss by Fire, the Philadelphia Library, and the
treasurer of the Pennsylvania Hospital. Much of the currency issued by
the Continental Congress of 1776 bore his name. Although a member of the
volunteer military company, he was never in active service.
Following his death in 1799 the house was sold by his executors in 1809
to his son, Samuel N. Lewis, also a successful merchant of great public
spirit. In 1817 the younger Lewis sold the house to Samuel Fisher,
another merchant and prominent Friend noted for his hospitality and his
charity, especially toward negroes and Indians. Because of his
neutrality during the Revolution, he was exiled to Virginia from 1777
until 1779, when he was arrested because of a business letter to his
partner in New York which was regarded as antagonistic to the
government. He was committed to the "Old Gaol", and after refusing bail
was tried and because of the clamor of the mob was sentenced to
imprisonment for the duration of the war. Soon afterward, however, a
pardon was offered him, which he refused, and two years later he left
prison by invitation without terms, his health broken. His wedding gift
to his daughter, Deborah, on her marriage to William Wharton in 1817,
was the Spruce Street house, which has ever since borne Wharton's name.
William Wharton was the son of Charles Wharton, who, with his wife,
Hannah, devoted themselves to a religious life among the Friends.
Deborah Wharton, William Wharton's wife, became a prominent minister of
the Society of Friends, traveling extensively in the interests of Indian
welfare and giving generously of her ample means to various
philanthropic causes. She was one of the early managers of Swarthmore
College, as has been a descendant in each generation of the family since
that time. Of her ten children, Joseph Wharton, also a prominent Friend,
was owner of the Bethlehem Steel Works and one of the most successful
ironmasters in the country. A liberal philanthropist, he founded the
Wharton School of Finance and Economy at the University of Pennsylvania
and was for many years president of the board of managers of Swarthmore
College. On his mother's death in 1888 the Spruce Street house came into
his possession and is still owned by his estate. Although rented as a
rooming house, it remains in a fair state of preservation.
[Illustration: PLATE XX.--Bartram House, Kingsessing, West Philadelphia.
Erected in 1730-31 by John Bartram; Old Green Tree Inn, 6019 Germantown
Avenue, Germantown. Erected in 1748.]
[Illustration: PLATE XXI.--Johnson House, 6306 Germantown Avenue,
Germantown. Erected in 1765-68 by Dirck Jansen; Billmeyer House,
Germantown Avenue, Germantown. Erected in 1727.]
The Wistar house, at the southwest corner of Fourth and Locust streets,
to which architectural reference has previously been made, was built
about 1750 and for nearly three quarters of a century thereafter was the
scene of constant hospitality and lavish entertainment. Here lived
Doctor William Shippen, whose marriage to Alice, the daughter of Thomas
Lee, of Virginia, and the sister of Richard Henry and Arthur Lee, was
one of the numerous alliances which drew the county families of Virginia
and Maryland into close relationship with Philadelphia families.
Doctor Shippen's home quickly became the resort of the Virginia
aristocracy when visiting the national capital, and in consequence there
was a constant succession of balls and dinners during the winter season.
In 1799 the house was occupied by Doctor Caspar Wistar, the eminent
anatomist, known to the elite of the city and nation for his brilliant
social gatherings and as the man for whom that beautiful climbing plant,
the _Wistaria_, was named. Doctor Wistar's geniality, magnetism,
intellectual leadership and generous hospitality made his home a
gathering place for the most distinguished personages of his day in the
professions, arts, sciences, letters and politics. Since he held a chair
at the University of Pennsylvania and carried on an extensive private
practice, the demands upon his time were great, but Sunday evenings, and
later on Saturday evenings, he was at home to his friends, who formed
the habit of calling regularly in numbers from ten to fifty and often
bringing new-found friends, sure of a hearty welcome, brilliant
conversation and choice refreshments. And so began one of the cherished
institutions of Philadelphia, the Wistar Parties, which were continued
after the doctor's death in 1818 by Wistar's friends and their
descendants. The Civil War brought an interruption, but in 1886 the
gatherings were again resumed; few of the distinguished visitors to the
city failed to be invited to attend, and, having attended, to praise
most highly the exceptional hospitality shown them. During Doctor
Wistar's lifetime the personnel of the parties gradually became
substantially the membership of that world-famous scientific
organization, the Philosophical Society, and later membership in that
society became requisite to eligibility for the Wistar Parties.
By far the handsomest old city residence of brick that remains in
anything like its original condition is the so-called Morris house at
Number 225 South Eighth Street between Walnut and Spruce streets.
Although not built until very shortly after the struggle for American
independence had been won, it is pre-Revolutionary in character and
Colonial in style throughout. In elegance and distinction the facade is
unexcelled in early American city architecture. Unlike most houses of
the time and locality, it has a double front with two windows each side
of a central doorway, a range of five windows on the second and third
floors and three simple dormers in the gable roof above. The windows
have twelve-paned upper and lower sashes with paneled shutters on the
first and second stories, and foreshortened eight-paned upper and lower
sashes without shutters on the third story.
The brickwork is of characteristic Flemish bond with alternating red
stretcher and black header bricks. Two slightly projecting courses, two
courses apart, form horizontal belts at the second-and third-floor
levels, while the first thirteen courses above the sidewalk level
project somewhat beyond the wall above and are laid up in running bond,
every sixth course being a tie course of headers. Beautifully tooled,
light stone lintels with fine-scale radial scorings greatly enhance the
beauty of the fenestration. Each lintel appears to consist of seven
gauged or keyed pieces each, but is in reality a single stone, the
effect being secured by deep scorings. A heavy molded cornice and
handsome gutter spouts complete the decorative features apart from the
chaste pedimental doorway with its fluted pilasters and dainty fanlight,
which is mentioned again in another chapter. A rolling way and areaways
at the basement windows pierce the wall at the sidewalk level after the
manner of the time. Indoors, the hall extends entirely through the house
to a door in the rear opening upon a box-bordered garden with rose trees
and old-fashioned flowers. There is a parlor on the right of the hall
and a library on the left. Back of the latter is the dining room, while
the kitchen and service portion of the house are located in an L
extension to the rear.
As indicated by two marble date stones set in the third-story front wall
just below the cornice, this house was begun in 1786 and finished in
1787 by John Reynolds. Some years later it was purchased at a sheriff's
sale by Ann Dunkin, who sold it in 1817 to Luke Wistar Morris, the son
of Captain Samuel Morris. Since that time it has remained in the Morris
family, and its occupants have maintained it in splendid condition. Much
beautiful old furniture, silver and china adorn the interior, most of
the pieces having individual histories of interest; in fact, the place
has become a veritable museum of Morris and Wistar heirlooms. Within a
few years the two old buildings that formerly adjoined the house to the
right and left were removed so that the house now stands alone with a
garden space at each side behind a handsome wrought-iron fence.
An enthusiastic horseman and sportsman, Samuel Morris was until his
death in 1812 president of the Gloucester Fox Hunting Club in which
originated in November, 1774, the Philadelphia Troop of Light Horse,
better known as the City Troop, the oldest military organization in the
United States. In 1775 Morris was a member of the Committee of Safety,
and throughout the Revolution he served as captain of the City Troop and
as a special agent for Washington, in whose esteem he stood high. Later
he was a justice of the peace and a member of the Pennsylvania assembly
from 1781 to 1783. A handsome china punch bowl presented to Captain
Samuel Morris by the members of the Gloucester Fox Hunting Club is one
of the most prized possessions in the Morris house.
Any book devoted to the Colonial houses of Philadelphia might perhaps be
considered incomplete that failed to include the quaint little two and a
half story building at Number 229 Arch Street, with its tiny store on
the street floor and dwelling on the floors above. Devoid of all
architectural pretension and showing the decay of passing years, it is
nevertheless typical of the modest shop and house of its day, and it
interests the visitor still more as the home of Betsy Ross, who for many
years was popularly supposed to have made the first American flag. Betsy
Ross was the widow of John Ross, a nephew of one of the signers of the
Declaration of Independence, who had conducted an upholsterer's business
in the little shop. For a time after his death she supported herself as
a lace cleaner and by continuing the business of her husband.
The romantic tradition goes, unsupported by official record, that,
Congress having voted in June, 1777, for a flag of thirteen stripes,
alternate red and white, with thirteen white stars in a blue field, the
committee in charge consulted with Washington, then in Philadelphia,
concerning the matter. Knowing Mrs. Ross, Washington led the way to her
house and explained their mission. In her little shop under their eyes
she cut and stitched together cloths of the three colors we love so well
and soon produced the first version of the Stars and Stripes.
The tale is a pretty one, and it is a pity that it should not be based
on some good foundation, especially as the records show that
subsequently Betsy Ross did make numerous flags for the government. How
the story started is unknown, but none of the historians who have given
the matter any attention believe it. John H. Flow in "The True Story of
the American Flag" condemns it utterly, and the United States Government
refused to adopt the Betsy Ross house as a national monument after a
thorough investigation. Notwithstanding the facts, however, this ancient
little building still continues to be a place of interest to many
tourists every year.
[Illustration: PLATE XXII.--Hooded Doorway, Johnson House, Germantown;
Hooded Doorway, Green Tree Inn.]
[Illustration: PLATE XXIII. Pedimental Doorway, 114 League Street;
Pedimental Doorway, 5933 Germantown Avenue.]