The Colonial Architecture of Philadelphia Part 2

To Edward Stiles in 1775 befell the opportunity to carry relief to the people of Bermuda, then in dire distress because their supplies from America had been cut off by the Non-Importation Agreement among the American colonies. In response to their pet.i.tion to the Continental Congress, permission was granted to send Stiles' s.h.i.+p, the _Sea Nymph_ (Samuel Stobel, master), laden with provisions to be paid for by the people of Bermuda either in gold or arms, ammunition, saltpeter, sulphur and fieldpieces.

During the occupation of Philadelphia by the British in 1777 and 1778, Frankford became the middle ground between the opposing armies and subject to the depredations of both. Port Royal House, like many other estates of the vicinity, was robbed of its fine furniture, horses, slaves and provisions.

Under the will of Edward Stiles his slaves were freed and educated at the expense of his estate. In 1853 the Lukens family bought Port Royal House and for several years a boarding school was conducted there. As the manufacturing about Frankford grew, the locality lost its desirability as a place of residence. The house was abandoned to chance tenants and allowed to fall into an exceedingly delapidated condition.

The accompanying photograph, however, depicts enough of its former state to indicate that in its day it was among the best brick country residences of the vicinity.

CHAPTER III

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 tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, 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 bas.e.m.e.nt windows and a rolling way with inclined double doors giving entrance from the street to the bas.e.m.e.nt.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE XVIII.--Detail of Cliveden Facade; Detail of Bartram House Facade.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 pa.s.sing 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 surpa.s.sed 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 sh.e.l.l 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sist 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, his Cabinet and members of Congress attended frequently. On Doctor Blackwell's death in 1831 the house pa.s.sed 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, s.h.i.+powner, 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 Contributors.h.i.+p 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 s.h.i.+ppen, 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 relations.h.i.+p with Philadelphia families.

Doctor s.h.i.+ppen's home quickly became the resort of the Virginia aristocracy when visiting the national capital, and in consequence there was a constant succession of b.a.l.l.s 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 leaders.h.i.+p 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 Sat.u.r.day 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 inst.i.tutions 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 members.h.i.+p of that world-famous scientific organization, the Philosophical Society, and later members.h.i.+p 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 bas.e.m.e.nt 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-fas.h.i.+oned 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 s.p.a.ce 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, in whose esteem he stood high. Later he was a justice of the peace and a member of the Pennsylvania a.s.sembly 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 pa.s.sing 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, then in Philadelphia, concerning the matter. Knowing Mrs. Ross, Was.h.i.+ngton led the way to her house and explained their mission. In her little shop under their eyes she cut and st.i.tched 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE XXII.--Hooded Doorway, Johnson House, Germantown; Hooded Doorway, Green Tree Inn.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE XXIII. Pedimental Doorway, 114 League Street; Pedimental Doorway, 5933 Germantown Avenue.]

CHAPTER IV

LEDGE-STONE COUNTRY HOUSES

The use of natural building materials available on or near the site, when they are suitable or can be made so, always elicits hearty commendation; it gives local color and distinctive character. And so we look with particular admiration at the fine old countryseats of local rock-face and surfaced stone which abound in the neighborhood of Philadelphia, especially at Germantown, finding among them the most homelike and picturesque stone dwellings of the past and the best prototypes for present-day adaptation. Nowhere can one discover better inspiration for rock-face stonework, and nowhere have the architects of to-day more successfully preserved and developed the best local traditions of Colonial times.

Wherein lies the superlative picturesque appeal of the typical ledge stonework of Germantown? As distinguished from surfaced stonework, it possesses that flexibility in use so essential to the many and varied requirements of domestic architecture imposed by the personality and mode of living of the owner. In a measure this ready adaptability is due to the irregular lines and rock face of the stone itself, so pleasing in scale, color and texture, and so completely in harmony with the natural landscape. But to a far greater extent it is due to the fact that its predominant lines are horizontal, the line of repose and stability.

Ledge stone, long and narrow, laid up in broken range, with the top and bottom beds approximately level, but with end joints as the stone works naturally, has an even more marked horizontal effect than brick, clap-boarded or s.h.i.+ngled walls that tends to a surprising degree to simulate the impression of greater breadth of the entire ma.s.s.

Such matters as color, surface texture and the bond or pattern formed by the shape of the stones and their arrangement in the wall are the refinements of stonework; the essentials are strength and durability of the stone itself and stability of the wall. And this stability should be apparent as well as actual. The integrity of stonework depends upon its ability to stand alone, and nothing except high-cost surfaced stone is so readily conducive to handsome, honest masonry as the natural ledge stone of greater Philadelphia. A consistent wall should be of sound construction without the aid of mortar, the mission of which is to c.h.i.n.k the joints and make the structure weather-tight.

Many different examples of stonework, both the pointed and unpointed, stand virtually side by side for comparison about Philadelphia. Several methods of pointing have been employed. There is the flush pointing and the ridge or weathered type commonly known as Colonial or "barn"