A long wing extends back from the main house, and beyond is a workshop with many old tools and a numerous collection of interesting clocks in various stages of completion. Still farther back is an observatory with its telescope, also a box-bordered formal garden in which still stands a quaint rain gauge. Indoors, the hall and principal rooms are spacious but low studded, with simple white-painted woodwork, and in the kitchen a primitive crane supporting ancient iron pots still remains in the great fireplace. Much fine old furniture, many rare books and numerous curios enhance the interest and beauty of the interiors.

Many men illustrious in art, science and literature shared Wister's hospitality. His frequent visitors included Gilbert Stuart, the artist; Christopher Sower, one of the most versatile men in the colonies; Thomas Say, the eminent entomologist and president of the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences; Parker Cleveland, author of the first book on American mineralogy; James Nichol, the celebrated geologist and writer, and many other famous personages. Quite as many unknown persons came to Grumblethorpe, however, for bread was baked every Saturday for distribution to the poor.

During the Battle of Germantown, Grumblethorpe was the headquarters of General Agnew of the British Army, and in the northwest parlor he died of wounds, staining the floor with his blood, the marks of which are still visible. In the same room Major Lenox, who occupied the house in 1779, was married. Major Lenox was at various times marshal of the United States for the District of Pennsylvania, director and president of the United States Bank, and the representative of the United States at the Court of St. James.

John Wister's eldest son, Daniel, a prosperous merchant, inherited the property, and it was his daughter who wrote Sally Wister's well-known and charming "Journal", the original manuscript of which is among the many treasures of this charming old house.

It was Daniel Wister's son, Charles J. Wister, who built the observatory and developed the beautiful formal garden back of the house. Upon retiring from business in 1819 he devoted himself to science, notably botany and mineralogy, upon which subjects he lectured at the Germantown Academy, of which he was secretary of the board of trustees for thirty years.

In 1865 the place came into the hands of Charles J. Wister, Junior, an artist, writer and Friend of high repute, who, like his father, was for many years identified with Germantown Academy. On his death in 1910 Grumblethorpe was shared by his nephews, Owen Wister, the novelist, and Alexander W. Wister, neither of whom resides there.



One of the noblest old ledge-stone mansions of the vicinity is The Woodlands, located on high ground along the bank of the Schuylkill River in Blockley Township, West Philadelphia. It was formerly the countryseat of the Hamilton family, from which a district of West Philadelphia east of Fortieth Street and south of Market Street took the name of Hamilton Village. Many years ago the grounds of The Woodlands became a cemetery, and the house is now occupied by the superintendent and contains the cemetery offices. While the gay society of a century and a quarter ago is lacking the place still retains much of its former beauty and state.

Of essentially Georgian character, the house is still more strongly reminiscent of many plantation mansions of the South. It has an entrance front to the north and a river or garden front to the south, while the kitchen arrangements are well concealed. Between two semicircular bays that project from the ends of the building on the entrance front, six Ionic pilasters support a broad and elaborately ornamented pediment, its chief features being the notching of the shingles, the circular window and the frieze with groups of vertical flutings in alternation with large round flower ornaments. A broad paved terrace three steps above the drive extends across the front from one bay to the other and gives approach to a round-arched central doorway with handsome leaded fanlight beneath a segmental hood supported by round engaged Ionic columns. This doorway leads into the hall.

On the river front a lofty pedimental-roofed portico centrally located and supported by six great smooth pillars is of distinctly southern aspect. Another round-arched doorway flanked by two round-topped windows opens directly into an oval-shaped ballroom. The beautiful Palladian windows on either side of this facade and recessed within an arch in the masonry are among the chief distinctions of the house. An examination of them indicates as convincingly as any modern work the delightful accord that may exist between gray stone and white woodwork, and draws attention to the masonry itself. The use of relatively small stones has resulted in an unconventional though pleasing wall effect, due to the prominence and rough character of the pointing which has been brought well out to the edges of the stones.

A word may well be said in passing in regard to the stable at The Woodlands, which, while rightly unassuming, lives in complete accord with the house, as every outbuilding should. A hip-roofed structure with lean-to wings, it is essentially a Georgian conception. Its walls are of ledge stone like the house, broken by a symmetrical arrangement of recessed arches in which the various doors and windows are set, and further embellished by a four-course belt of brick at the second-floor level.

The Woodlands was built in 1770 by William Hamilton on an estate purchased in 1735 by his grandfather, Andrew Hamilton, the first of that name in America. It is the second house on the site, the first having made way for the present spacious structure which was designed to give expression to the tastes and desires of its builder. William Hamilton was one of the wealthiest men of his day and loved display and the role of a lavish host. Maintaining a large retinue of servants and living in a style surpassing that of most of his neighbors, his dinner parties and other social gatherings were attended by the most eminent personages of the time. A man of culture and refinement, he accumulated many valuable paintings and rare books, and his gardens, greenhouse and grounds were his particular pride and joy. To a large collection of native American plants and shrubs he added many exotic trees and plants. To him is credited the introduction of the Ginkgo tree and the Lombardy poplar to America.

William Hamilton was a nephew of Governor James Hamilton, by whose permission, granted to William Hallam and his Old American Company of strolling players, the drama was established in Philadelphia in 1754, despite the strong opposition of the Friends. William Hamilton raised a regiment in his neighborhood to assist in the Revolution, but being opposed to a complete break with the mother country, resigned his commission upon the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Following the evacuation of Philadelphia by the British he was arrested, charged with assisting the British forces and tried for high treason, but was acquitted and allowed to retain possession of his estates, which were duly inherited by his family on his death in 1811.

These charming old ledge-stone mansions, and others of lesser architectural merit and historical association, too numerous for description here, constitute the chief distinction of Philadelphia architecture. Whereas the city residences of brick differ little from those of several other not far distant places, and the country houses of that material recall many similar ones in Delaware, Maryland and even Virginia, the ledge-stone house of greater Philadelphia is a thing unto itself. It has no parallel in America. Of substantial character and possessed of rare local color, it combines with picturesque appearance those highly desirable qualities of permanence and non-inflammability. It is the ideal construction for suburban Philadelphia where the necessary building material abounds and new homes can live in accord with the old.



CHAPTER V

PLASTERED STONE COUNTRY HOUSES

It is quite possible to preserve random shapes and rock faces in stonework that is structurally good, yet still fail in a measure to please the eye and satisfy the artistic sense. A house built of stones which, although irregular and of variable size, are generally cubical in shape and set with obvious painstaking to simulate a casual yet remarkably systematic arrangement, never fails to be clumsy and patchy. A case in point is Waynesborough in Easttown Township, Chester County, erected in 1724 by Captain Isaac Wayne. Greame Park, erected in Horsham Township, Montgomery County, by Sir William Keith five years after he was appointed governor of Penn's Colony in 1717, instances another unsuccessful use of stonework and effectively explodes the pet notion of the indiscriminate that everything which is old is therefore good. The promiscuous use of rough, long, quarried stones, square blocks and narrow strips on end results in an utterly irrational effect, a confusing medley of short lines.

Going to the other extreme, the use of stones so small and irregular as to suggest a "crazy-quilt" mosaic rather than structural stonework is equally displeasing. This scheme unquestionably lends texture to the wall, but it attracts too much attention to itself to the detriment of such architectural features as doors, windows and other wood trim intended to provide suitable embellishment as well as to fulfill the practical requirements of daily use. Inasmuch as rubble used in this manner becomes merely an aggregate in a concrete wall, the consistent thing to do is to consider it as such and give the wall an outside finish or veneer of rough plaster. This fact was recognized and often acted upon by the early Philadelphia builders wherever the stone readily available did not make an attractive wall. A few of the best examples extant serve to indicate that houses of this sort have all the charm of the modern stucco structure built over hollow tile.

Perhaps the most picturesque of the old houses of this type is Wyck at Germantown Avenue and Walnut Lane, Germantown, a long, rambling structure of rubble masonry with an outside veneer of rough white plaster standing end to the street. Although Colonial in detail and partaking to a degree of the general character of its neighbors, the ensemble presents a rare blending of European influences with American construction. Vine-clad trellises on the entrance front, a long arbor on the garden front, box-bordered flower beds and a profusion of shade trees and shrubs all help to compose a picture of rare charm in which leading American architects have often found inspiration for modern work.

Wyck is probably the oldest building in Germantown and certainly quaint of appearance, considering its age, for it has been preserved as nearly as possible in its early condition. The oldest part was built about 1690 by Hans Millan. Later another house was built near by on the opposite side of an old Indian trail, and subsequently the two were joined together, a wide, brick-paved wagon way running beneath the connecting structure. This passage has since been closed in to form a spacious hallway with wide double doors and a long transom above, the outer doors being wood paneled and the inner ones glazed.

Of romantic interest is the use of this great hall of Wyck as a hospital and operating room after the Battle of Germantown, and later, in 1825, as the scene of a reception tendered to La Fayette, following his breakfast at Cliveden, when the townspeople were presented to him by Charles J. Wister. The doorway to the right, with its molded jambs, plain, four-paned transom and paneled door divided in the middle like many of the neighborhood, is of the most modest order, yet its simple lines and good proportions, together with the green of the climbing vines about it, in contrast with the white plaster walls, makes a strong appeal to everybody of artistic appreciation. The position of the knob indicates the size of the great rim lock within, while the graceful design of the brass knocker is justly one of the most popular to-day.

Wyck has never been sold, but has passed from one owner to another by inheritance through the Jansen and Wistar families to the Haines family, in which it has since remained. One of its owners, Caspar Wistar, in 1740 established the first glassworks in America at Salem, New Jersey.

The most notable house of plastered stone masonry, and one of the noblest countryseats in the vicinity of Philadelphia, is Clunie, later and better known as Mount Pleasant, located in the Northern Liberties, Fairmount Park, on the east bank of the Schuylkill River only a little north of the Girard Avenue bridge. To see it is to appreciate more fully the princely mode of country living in which some of the most distinguished citizens of the early metropolis of the colonies indulged.



Standing on high ground and commanding broad views both up and down the stream, the house is of truly baronial mien and Georgian character. Two flanking outbuildings, two and a half stories high, hip-roofed and dormered, some forty feet from each end of the main house and corresponding with it in character and construction, provide the servants' quarters and various domestic offices. Beyond the circle formed by the drive on the east or entrance front of the house and at some distance to either side are two barns. Thus the house becomes the central feature in a strikingly picturesque group of buildings having all the manorial impressiveness of the old Virginia mansions along the James River.

The main house rises two and a half stories above a high foundation of hewn stone with iron-barred basement windows set in stone frames. It is of massive rubble-stone masonry, coated with yellowish-gray rough-cast and having heavy quoined corners of red brick, also a horizontal belt of the same material at the second-floor level, the keyed lintels of the large ranging windows, however, being of faced stone.

Above a heavy cornice with prominent modillions springs the hipped roof, pierced on both sides by two handsome dormers and surmounted by a long, beautifully balustraded belvedere. Two great brick chimney stacks, one at each end of the building, with four arched openings near the top, lend an aspect of added dignity and solidity. The principal feature of the facade on both the east and west or river front is the slightly projecting central portion with its quoined corners, surmounting corniced pediment springing from the eaves, ornate Palladian windows in the second story and superb pedimental doorway in harmony with the pedimental motive above. Although the detail is heavy, and free use has been made of the orders, the work is American Georgian at its best and altogether admirable. The doorways of the two sides are similar but not the same, and a comparison, as found in another chapter, is most interesting.

Within, a broad hall extends entirely through the house from one front to the other, as likewise does a spacious drawing-room on the north side with an elaborate chimney piece in the middle of the outside wall. The dining room occupies the west front, and back of it, in an L extension from the hall, a handsome staircase with gracefully turned balustrade leads to the bedrooms on the second floor. Throughout the interior the wood finish is worthy of the exterior trim. Beautifully tooled cornices, graceful pilasters, nicely molded door and window casings, heavy pedimental doorheads,—all are of excellent design and more carefully wrought than in average Colonial work. Finest of all, perhaps, is a chamber on the second floor overlooking the river that must, according to the very nature of things, have been the boudoir of the mistress of Mount Pleasant. The architectural treatment of the fireplace end of this room, with exquisite carving above the overmantel panel and above the closet doors at each side, is greatly admired by all who see it.

The erection of Mount Pleasant was begun late in 1761 by John Macpherson, a sea captain of Clunie, Scotland, who amassed a fortune and lost an arm in the adventurous practice of privateering. Here he lived in manorial splendor, entertaining the most eminent personages of the day with munificent hospitality and employing himself with numerous ingenious inventions, notably a practical device for moving brick and stone houses intact. He wrote on moral philosophy, lectured on astronomy and published the first city directory in 1785, a unique volume giving the names in direct house-to-house sequence and having such notations as, "I won't tell you", "What you please", and "Cross woman" against street numbers where he found the occupants suspicious or unresponsive to his queries.

Meeting reverses in some of his financial affairs and longing for further adventures at sea, Macpherson sought the chief command of the American Navy at the outbreak of the Revolution. This being denied him he leased Mount Pleasant to Don Juan de Merailles, the Spanish ambassador. But to be near General Washington, Merailles had to remove to Morristown and there he soon died.

In the spring of 1779 Macpherson sold Mount Pleasant to General Benedict Arnold, of unhappy memory, whose remarkable and traitorous career is known to every American. Arnold had been placed in command of Philadelphia by Washington, following its evacuation by the British, and in acquiring the most palatial countryseat in the vicinity he gratified his fondness for display and apparently saw in it a means of retaining or increasing his influence and power. It was his marriage gift to his bride, Peggy Shippen, the daughter of Edward Shippen, a moderate Loyalist, who eventually became reconciled to the new order and was chief justice of the State from 1799 to 1805. At Mount Pleasant Arnold and his wife remained for more than a year, living extravagantly and entertaining lavishly. Arnold's financial embarrassments and bitter contentions with persistent enemies became ever more deeply involved. Here in bitterness, and not without some provocation, he conceived the dastardly plan of obtaining from Washington command of West Point, the key to the Hudson River Valley, in order that he might betray it to the British.

Following the discovery of the plot and Arnold's flight to the British lines, his property was confiscated, and Mount Pleasant was leased for a short period to Baron von Steuben, after which it passed through several hands to General Jonathan Williams, of Boston, in whose family the place remained until the middle of the nineteenth century, when it was acquired by the city as a part of Fairmount Park.

At Number 5442 Germantown Avenue, standing directly on the sidewalk as was often the case, and with a beautiful box-bordered garden of old-fashioned flowers about one hundred by four hundred feet along the south end, is one of the most interesting old plastered houses in Philadelphia. Well known in history, it is no less notable architecturally. In general arrangement it differs little from numerous other gable-roof structures of the vicinity, two and a half stories high with chimneys at each end and handsome pedimental dormers with round-topped windows between. It is in the excellent detail and nice proportion of the wood trim, both without and within, that this house excels. Interest focuses upon the deeply recessed doorway with its sturdy Tuscan columns and pediment, and the great, attractively paneled door. The fenestration is admirable with twenty-four-paned windows set in handsome frames with architrave casings and beautifully molded sills, the lower windows having shutters and the upper ones blinds. A notable feature is the heavy cornice with large modillions, and beneath a relatively fine-scale, double denticulated molding or Grecian fret.

Within, a wide hall extends through the middle of the house, widening at the back where a handsome winding staircase with landings ascends to the floor above. Opposite the staircase is a breakfast room overlooking the garden. The parlor and dining room on opposite sides of the hall, the bedrooms above and also the halls all have beautifully paneled wainscots. There are handsome chimney pieces in each room with dark Pennsylvania marble facings about the fireplaces and ornamental panels so nicely made that no joints are visible. Throughout the house the woodwork is of unusual beauty and unexcelled in workmanship.

The house was built in 1772 by David Deschler, a wealthy West India merchant, the son of an aide-de-camp to the reigning Prince of Baden, and Margaret, a sister of John Wister and Caspar Wistar. After the retreat of the American forces at the conclusion of the Battle of Germantown, Sir William Howe, the British commander, moved his headquarters from Stenton to the Deschler house. While there he is said to have been visited by Prince William Henry, then a midshipman in the Royal Navy, but afterward King William IV of England.

Upon Deschler's death in 1792 the house was bought by Colonel Isaac Franks, a New Yorker who had served his country well in the Continental Army and filled several civil commissions after the conclusion of peace with England. He it was who rented the house to Washington for a short period in the early winter of 1793 and again for six weeks in the following summer because of the yellow fever epidemic in Philadelphia. Here met the President's cabinet—Jefferson, Hamilton, Knox and Randolph—to discuss the President's message to Congress and the difficulties with England, France and Spain. Aside from Mount Vernon, it is the only dwelling now standing in which Washington lived for any considerable time.



In 1804 the property was purchased by Elliston and John Perot, two Frenchmen who conducted a prosperous mercantile business in Philadelphia. On the death of the former in 1834, the place was purchased by his son-in-law, Samuel B. Morris, of the shipping firm of Waln and Morris, in whose family it has since remained. The interiors remain as in Washington's time, and much of the furniture, silver and china used by him are still preserved, together with his letter thanking Captain Samuel Morris for the valuable services of the First City Troop during the Revolution.

Although not erected until a few years after the treaty of peace following the Revolution, Vernon is so thoroughly Colonial in architecture and of such merit as to warrant mention here. It stands in extensive grounds on the west side of Germantown Avenue, Germantown, above Chelton Avenue. The main house is a hip-roofed structure two and a half stories in height of rubble masonry, the front being plastered and lined off to simulate dressed stone and the other walls being pebble dashed. A wing in the rear connects the main house with a semi-detached gable-roof structure in which were located the kitchen and servants' rooms. The principal features of the symmetrical facade with its ranging twelve-paned windows, shuttered on the lower story, are the central pediment with exquisite fanlight between flanking chimneys and handsomely detailed dormers, and a splendid doorway alluded to later in these pages. A fine-scale denticulated molding in the cornice, repeated elsewhere in the exterior wood trim, lends an air of exceptional richness and refinement.

Vernon was built in 1803 by James Matthews, a whipmaker of the firm of McAllister and Matthews. In 1812 it was purchased by John Wistar, son of Daniel Wistar, and a member of the countinghouse of his uncle, William Wistar. Upon his uncle's death he conducted the business with his brother Charles and became well known in mercantile circles and prominent in the Society of Friends. A bronze statue of him in Quaker garb has been erected in front of the house. Some years after his death in 1862 the place passed under the control of the city for a park and was occupied for a time by the Free Library. Since the erection of a building near by for this latter purpose, it has housed the museum of the Site and Relic Society, and contains much of interest to the student of early Germantown.

Another house in the Colonial spirit erected shortly after the close of the Revolution is Loudoun, at Germantown Avenue and Apsley Street, Germantown, its grounds embracing the summit of Neglee's Hill. The house is two and a half stories high with additions which have somewhat altered its original appearance; it has a gambrel roof, hipped at one end after the Mansard manner with excellent dormers on both the front and end just mentioned. Its plastered rubble masonry walls are clothed with clinging ivy. The architectural interest centers chiefly in the fenestration and the pillared portico reminiscent of plantation mansions farther south. This portico, with its simple pediment and wooden columns surmounted by pleasingly unusual capitals of acanthus-leaf motive, was added some thirty years after the house was erected. The great twenty-four-paned ranging windows have heavy paneled shutters on the first floor and blinds on the second. Tall, slender, engaged columns supporting a nicely detailed entablature frame a typical Philadelphia doorway, the paneled door itself being single with a handsome leaded fanlight above.

Loudoun was built in 1801 by Thomas Armat as a countryseat for his son, Thomas Wright Armat. The elder Armat originally settled in Loudoun County, Virginia, and hence the name of the estate. Coming to Philadelphia about the time of the Revolution, his family moved to Germantown during the yellow fever epidemic of 1793 and found it such a pleasing place of residence that the building of Loudoun some years later came as a natural consequence. It stands at the very outskirts of Germantown, now the twenty-second ward of Philadelphia, where Germantown Avenue starts its winding course toward Chestnut Hill. At the original lottery distribution of the land of the Frankford Company in the cave of Francis Daniel Pastorius, there being no permanent houses at that time, the site fell to Thomas Kunders, in whose house at Number 5109 Germantown Avenue the first meeting of Friends was held in Germantown. After the Battle of Germantown the hill was used as a hospital, and many dead were buried there. From 1820 to 1835 Loudoun was rented to Madam Greland as a summer school for young women, and it was during this period, probably about 1830, that the pillared portico was added.

A successful Philadelphia merchant and well-known philanthropist, Thomas Armat, gave the site for St. Luke's Church in Germantown and assisted in its erection, also setting aside a chamber at Loudoun which was known as the minister's room. He was among the first to suggest the use of coal for heating, and one of the early patentees of a hay scales. Armat's daughter married Gustavus Logan, great-great-grandson of James Logan and grandson of John Dickinson, whose "Farmer's Letters", addressed to the people of England, are said to have brought about the repeal of the Stamp Act. Loudoun still remains in the Logan family.

No stranger house can be found in all Philadelphia than Solitude on the west bank of the Schuylkill in Blockley Township, Fairmount Park. It is a boxlike structure of plastered rubble masonry twenty-six feet square and two and a half stories high, with a hip roof having simple pedimental dormers and two oppositely disposed chimneys. The wood trim is severely simple throughout, from the heavy molded cornice under the eaves to the pedimental recessed doorway with its Ionic columns and entablature. Two slightly projecting courses of brick, one some ten inches or so above the other, form an unusual belt at the second-floor level, while a distinctive feature of the fenestration is seen in the fact that most of the windows have nine-paned upper and six-paned lower sashes.

Within, the entrance doorway leads into a hall some nine feet wide and extending entirely across the house from side to side. The remainder of the first floor consists of a large parlor with windows opening on a portico overlooking the river. A beautiful stucco cornice and ceiling and a carved wood surbase are its best features. In one corner a staircase with wrought-iron railing rises to the second floor, where there is a library about fifteen feet square with built-in bookcases, two connecting bedrooms, one with an alcove and secret door where the owner might shut himself away from intrusive visitors, and a staircase leading to more bedrooms on the third floor. The cellar is deep and roomy, with provision for wine storage, and an underground passage communicates with the kitchen located in a separate building about twenty-five feet distant.

Solitude was built in 1785 by John Penn, a grandson of William Penn, the founder of Philadelphia, and a son of Thomas Penn, whose wife was a daughter of the Earl of Pomfret. A much traveled, scholarly man, poet, idealist and art patron, he came to Philadelphia in 1783 to look after proprietary interests in Pennsylvania and intending to become an American. But his claims were made under hereditary rights, and as the State was not disposed to honor them he concluded to remain an Englishman. Vexed with the perversity of human nature, he built Solitude and named it for a lodge belonging to the Duke of Wuerttemburg. There he lived somewhat the life of a recluse with his books and trees for three years. He was on friendly terms with his neighbors, however, who included his cousin, Governor John Penn, and Judge Richard Peters. Gay week-end parties also came in boats to enjoy his hospitality, and Washington once spent a day with him during the sitting of the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia.

In 1788 Penn suddenly returned to England, built a handsome residence at Stoke and embarked on a notable career in public life, becoming sheriff of Bucks in 1798, a member of Parliament in 1802, and royal governor of the island of Portland in Dorset for many years after 1805. The University of Cambridge made him an LL.D. in 1811, and he won promotion to a lieutenant-colonelcy in the Royal Bucks Yeomanry. Later in his declining years he formed the Outinian Society to encourage young men and women to marry, although he inconsistently died a bachelor in 1834.



Solitude then passed by inheritance to Penn's youngest brother, Granville, and on his death ten years later to a nephew, Granville John Penn, great-grandson of William Penn, and the last Penn at Solitude. Coming to Philadelphia in middle life about 1851 he was lionized by society and in acknowledgment gave a grand "Fete Champetre" and collation. Following his death in 1867, Solitude and its grounds were made part of Fairmount Park, and after several years without tenancy the house in its original condition was made the administration building of the Zoological Society.

The fine old plastered stone houses of Philadelphia comprise one of the distinctive and most admired types of its Colonial architecture. Those with pebble-dashed walls which seek to simulate no other building material or form of construction possess the added charm of frank sincerity. Fire-proof in character, pleasing in appearance, and readily adaptable to varied home requirements, they point the way wherever rubble stone incapable of forming an attractive wall is cheaply available. Many modern dwellings in the Colonial spirit are being built in this manner.



CHAPTER VI

HEWN STONE COUNTRY HOUSES

Cost was not an object in building many of the larger old countryseats about Philadelphia, for their owners were men of wealth and station, prominent in the affairs of the province and sharing its prosperity. Influenced by the builders of the Georgian period in England, and often under their personal supervision, the buildings on numerous great estates about the early metropolis of the American colonies were constructed of quarried stone, whether sawed in the form of "brick" stone or hammered to a relatively smooth surface.

Surfaced stone, however, especially when cut into rectangular blocks, is to be recommended only for public work or for very large and pretentious residences of formal character and arrangement. In small buildings, and unless handled with skill and discretion in larger work, its psychological effect upon the mind is that of uncompromising and somewhat repellent austerity; it suggests the prison-like palace rather than the domestic atmosphere of a true home,—an atmosphere to be had in stone only by preserving the greater spontaneity of irregular shapes and rock faces characteristic of Germantown ledge stone.

That the early builders of this vicinity were skilled stone masons and employed this form of building construction with sympathy and intelligence is indicated by the splendid old mansions that still remain as monuments to their genius,—stately, elegant, enduring, yet withal pleasing, comfortable and eminently livable. The use of "brick" stone for several of them has given a lighter scale, and by repetition of many closely related and prominent horizontals has simulated a greater breadth of facade and a lesser total height, both beneficial to the general appearance. As in ordinary brickwork, the vertical pointing is as wide as the horizontal, but the joints break, whereas the course lines are continuous, thus emphasizing the horizontals of light mortar.

Unquestionably the most notable mansion of hewn stone in Greater Philadelphia is Cliveden, the countryseat of the Chew family, located in extensive grounds at Germantown Avenue and Johnson streets, Germantown. One of the most substantial and elaborate residences of that day, it is two and a half stories in height and built of heavy masonry, the front illustrating well the pleasing use of surfaced Germantown stone, flush pointed, the other walls being of rubble masonry, plastered and marked off to simulate dressed stone. Two wings, one semi-detached and the other entirely so, extend back from the main house and contain the kitchen, servants' quarters and laundry. The classic front entrance opens into a large hall with small rooms on each side which were originally used as offices. Beyond and above are many spacious rooms with excellent woodwork and handsome chimney pieces.

No handsomer Colonial facade is to be found in America. Classic in feeling and symmetrical in arrangement, it is excellently detailed in every particular. Above a slightly projecting water table the repeated horizontals of the limestone belt at the second-floor level, the heavy cornice with prominent modillions and the roof line impart a feeling of repose and stability quite apart from the character of the building material itself. The ranging windows, shuttered on the lower floor, are distinguished by their keyed limestone lintels and twelve-paned upper and lower sashes, while the roof is elaborated by two great chimney stacks, a like number of well-designed dormers with round-topped windows, and five handsome stone urns mounted on brick piers at the corners and over the entrance. The central portion of the facade projects slightly under a pediment in harmony with the splendid Doric doorway beneath, of which more elsewhere.



Cliveden was erected in 1761 by Benjamin Chew, a friend of Washington and a descendant of one of the oldest and most distinguished Virginia families, his great-grandfather, John Chew, having settled at James Citie about 1621, and, like Benjamin Chew's grandfather and father, who resided in Maryland, having been prominent in the courts and public affairs generally. Benjamin Chew studied law with Andrew Hamilton, and at the age of nineteen entered the Middle Temple, London, the same year as Sir William Blackstone. Removing to Philadelphia in 1754, he was provincial counselor in 1755, attorney general from 1755 to 1764, recorder of the city from 1755 to 1774, a member of the Pennsylvania-Maryland Boundary Commission in 1761, register general of the province in 1765, and in 1774 succeeded William Allen as chief justice of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania. Following the Revolution he served as a judge and president of the High Court of Errours and Appeals until it was abolished in 1808.

Justice Chew was brought up a Quaker and his attitude coincided with that of many others who manifested sympathy for the American cause, yet hesitated at complete independence. In defining high treason to the April Grand Jury of 1776, the last held under the Crown, he stated that "an opposition by force of arms to the lawful authority of the King or his Ministry is high treason, but in the moment when the King, or his Ministers, shall exceed the authority vested in them by the Constitution, submission to their mandate becomes treason." It is not surprising, therefore, that in August, 1777, Judge Chew and John Penn, the late proprietary, were arrested by the City Troop and on refusing parole were imprisoned at the Union Iron Works until sometime in 1778.

With fourteen attractive and accomplished children, two sons and twelve daughters, things were always lively at Cliveden, and it was the scene of lavish entertainment of Washington, Adams and other members of the first Continental Congress. Around its classic doorway the Battle of Germantown raged most fiercely. The house had been occupied by the British under Colonel Musgrave, the Chew family being away at the time; and so effective a fortress did it prove that the center of Washington's advance was checked and the day lost to the American arms. Great damage was done inside and out by cannon balls, some of it being still visible, although several workmen spent the entire following winter putting the house in order. During his triumphal farewell tour of the twenty-four American States in 1825, a breakfast was tendered to La Fayette at Cliveden on the day of his reception at Wyck.

In 1779, Justice Chew sold Cliveden to Blair McClenahan, a director of the Bank of Pennsylvania, for nine thousand dollars, but bought it back again in 1787 for twenty-five thousand dollars. Since that time it has remained in the family and is still occupied part of the year. Chew's Woods, formerly part of the estate, have been presented to the city as a public park, but the stable behind the house, and connected with it by an underground passage, still remains much as ever; and therein reposes the curious old family coach.

Second only to Cliveden in architectural interest is The Highlands, located on the Skippack Pike overlooking the Whitemarsh Valley from a lofty site among giant old oaks, pines and sycamores. It is a splendid example of American architecture after the late Georgian manner, and although not built until after the Revolution, its character is such that it deserves to be included among the Colonial houses of the vicinity. The south or entrance front is built of squared and nicely surfaced stones laid up with joints breaking much like brickwork, the pointing being of the ridge or weathered type. The sides are of ordinary rubble but plastered and lined off to simulate hewn stone. The central section of the facade projects slightly, two Ionic pilasters of white marble supporting a pediment within which a semicircular fanlight ventilates and lights the attic. Marble belts at the first-and second-floor levels, marble window sills and keystones in the lintels relieve and brighten the effect, while an unusual diamond fret lends distinction to the cornice. The windows have six-paned upper and lower sashes with blinds on all stories, as in the case of most of the later Colonial houses. Ornamental wrought-iron fire balconies at the second-story windows are a picturesque feature. The entrance porch, one of the few of consequence in Philadelphia, is characterized by its chaste simplicity, the fine-scale reeded columns and wrought-iron balustrade of the marble steps being its chief features. But for the double doors characteristic of Philadelphia, the doorway itself, of excellent proportions and having a handsome elliptical fanlight and side lights with leaded glass, would suggest Salem design.

Within, a great hall extends through the house to a wide cross hall at the rear, where a broad and handsome staircase with wing flights above a gallery landing is located. A beautiful Palladian window in the west end of the house lights this landing and the entire cross hall. Much excellent woodwork adorns the spacious rooms, but the splendid Adam mantels with their delicate applied stucco designs were long ago replaced by less pleasing creations of black marble.



The Highlands was completed in 1796 by Anthony Morris, son of Captain Samuel Morris, and a friend of Jefferson, Monroe and Madison, and was some two years in the building. Morris was admitted to the bar in 1787 and soon went into politics, later engaging extensively in the East India trade. Representing the city of Philadelphia in the State Senate, he was in 1793, at the age of twenty-seven, elected speaker, succeeding Samuel Powel. In this capacity he signed a bill providing for troops to suppress the Whiskey Rebellion, for which act he was disowned by the Friends' Meeting of which he was a member. Dolly Madison makes friendly references to Morris in her memoirs and letters, and for nearly two years during Madison's administration Morris represented the United States at the Court of Spain. Through his efforts an adjustment was effected in the boundary dispute over the Florida cession.

In 1808 Morris sold The Highlands to one Hitner, who conveyed it in 1813 to George Sheaff, in whose family it has since remained.

Nothing quite like Bartram House is to be found anywhere in America. Situated on the Schuylkill River at Kingsessing, West Philadelphia, just to the south of what was once the lower or Gray's Ferry, this curious structure was begun in 1730, and the main part of it was completed the following year, as indicated by a stone in one of the gables bearing the inscription in Greek, "May God save", followed in English by "John and Ann Bartram, 1731." Successive additions and alterations have changed the inside arrangement more than the exterior appearance, and it can hardly be said that the house now has any particular floor plan. Probably the latest important changes were made when a stone bearing the following inscription was placed over the study window:

It is God above almyty Lord The holy One by me ador'd. John Bartram, 1770.

In outward appearance Bartram House is a simple gable-roof structure two and a half stories in height, of large, roughly hewn stones with east and west fronts and three dormers lighting the attic. The east or entrance front has a characteristic trellis-shaded doorway with quaint Dutch seats at each side, while the west front has an odd, recessed porch between rude Ionic columns of native stone, the same as the walls and built up like them. Crudely chiseled, elaborately ornamental window casings, lintels and sills form a curious feature of this facade. Clothed as it is with clinging ivy and climbing roses, the house suggests an effect of both stateliness and rusticity.

Bartram was a farmer, but his interest in plants, shrubs and trees was such that he became one of the greatest botanists of his day. In autumn, when his farm labors were finished for the year, he journeyed extensively about the colonies, gathering specimens with which to beautify his grounds. His greatest enjoyment in life was to make his collection of rare species ever more complete, and his remarkable accomplishments in this direction, despite many handicaps, entitle him to be known as the father of American botanists. After Bartram's death his son William, also an eminent botanist, carried on the work, and later his son-in-law, Colonel Carr, did likewise until the place became one of the most interesting botanical gardens in the country. In 1851 the estate was purchased by Andrew Eastwick, a railway builder just returned from an extended commission in Russia, who erected a large residence in another part of the grounds. In 1893 the city bought Bartram House and its immediate grounds and in 1897 acquired the balance of the estate, the whole being converted into a public park and the old house being furnished and put in excellent condition by the descendants of the Bartram family.

Undoubtedly the most notable instance of the use of "brick" stone with the so-called Colonial or "barn" pointing is the Johnson house at Number 6306 Germantown Avenue, Germantown. Typical of the first homes that lined the street of this historic old town for nearly two miles, it is solidly built of dark native ledge stone, the front being of dressed rectangular blocks considerably smaller, somewhat rougher and hence less formal than the surfaced blocks of Cliveden, for example. It is a single gable-roofed structure two and a half stories high with ranging windows throughout, a large chimney at each end and two dormers in the front between them. Like many others of the time it had a small penthouse roof at the second-floor level which, with the overhanging eaves of the roof above, afforded protection from rainy weather for the joints of the stonework which was at first laid up in clay. Lime for making more permanent mortar was far from plentiful for many years after America was first settled, and numerous makeshifts had to be resorted to unless the builder could afford to import lime from England at great expense. Over the doorway, with its simple flanking seats, there is the familiar pedimental and slightly projecting hood, while the door itself is of the quaint divided type, permitting the upper half to be opened while the lower half is closed. On the first floor the windows have nine-paned sashes, both upper and lower, together with nicely paneled shutters, while on the second floor the upper sashes are foreshortened to six panes, and there are neither shutters nor blinds.

This excellent example of the Pennsylvania farmhouse type was built by Dirck Jansen, one of the original settlers of Germantown, for his son John Johnson at the time of his marriage to Rachael Livezey. The work was begun in 1765 and completed in 1768, as indicated by a date stone in the peak of one of the gables. It was one of the largest and most substantial residences in the town and for that reason gave much concern to the Society of Friends of which the Johnsons were members. During the Battle of Germantown it was in the thick of the fight, and following the warning of an officer John Johnson and his entire family took refuge in the cellar. Bullet holes through three doors are still visible, also the damage done to the northwest wall by a cannon ball. The backyard fence, riddled with bullets, was removed in 1906 to the Museum of the Site and Relic Society at Vernon.

Since the death of John Johnson in 1805, the house has passed through many hands, all descendants of the builder, however. During the Civil War it became a station of the "underground railway" for conducting fugitive slaves to Canada, and Mrs. Josiah Reeve, a great-great-granddaughter of the builder, used to tell how, when a child, she often wondered why so many colored people lived in the attic, staying only a day or so, when others would appear.

Generally similar to the Johnson house is the old Green Tree Inn, Number 6019 Germantown Avenue, Germantown, erected in 1748. Its principal distinctions lie in the three small, plain dormers with segmental topped windows; the coved cornice; the elliptical carving in the pediment of the hood over the door; the enriched ovolo molding of the penthouse roof, consisting of a ball and disk in alternation, and the arched openings of the basement windows.

In this building on December 6, 1759, then the home of Daniel Mackinett, the public school of Germantown, the Germantown Academy, was organized, its building being erected the following year. In Revolutionary times this old house was known as "Widow Mackinett's Tavern", and it was a famous resort for driving parties from the city. Many persons of note were entertained at the Green Tree Inn, and when La Fayette visited Germantown in 1825 it was the intention to tender him a dinner there. It was concluded, however, that the tavern could not accommodate the party, and a breakfast at Cliveden was given instead, to which reference has already been made.

The old Billmeyer house, also on Germantown Avenue, Germantown, interests the student of architecture primarily as a rare instance of the early Germantown two-family house. Apart from its two front entrance doorways and the absence of a hood in the penthouse roof, it is much like the Johnson house in general arrangement. The "brick" stones are larger and less pleasing, however, and the high elevation of the structure is evidently due to a subsequent change in the grade of the street. This, however, has given opportunity for a quaint double flight of wing steps with simple wrought-iron balustrades in the characteristic Philadelphia manner. The seats, back to back, one for each doorway, recall those of the Johnson house. One notices with admiration the beautifully detailed pedimental dormers with their round-topped windows, and with interest the unusual use of shutters on both the first and second stories. Both upper and lower sashes on the first floor are twelve-paned, as are also the upper sashes on the second floor, the foreshortening of these upper windows being accomplished by means of eight-paned lower sashes.



Erected in 1727 as a single dwelling, this house was occupied during the battle by the widow Deshler and her family. At that time there was no building of any sort between the Billmeyer and Chew houses. It was in front of this house that Washington stopped in his march down Germantown Avenue on October 4, 1777, having discovered that the Chew house was occupied by the British. There he conferred with his officers, ordered the attack and directed the battle. The tradition is that Washington stood on a horse block, telescope in hand, trying in vain to penetrate the smoke and fog and discover the force of the enemy intrenched within the Chew mansion. The stone cap of the horse block is still preserved, and the telescope is in the possession of Germantown Academy. The house suffered greatly at the hands of the British soldiers who were quartered there, and its woodwork still bears the marks of bullets and attempts to set it on fire. In 1789 it became the home of Michael Billmeyer, a celebrated German printer who carried on his trade there.

Homes such as the Johnson and Billmeyer houses and numerous similar ones, two and a half stories high with gable roofs, dormer windows and a penthouse roof at the second-floor level, are characteristic examples of the best Pennsylvania farmhouse type which architects of the present day are perpetuating to a considerable extent. Whether of dressed local or ledge stone, they are distinct from anything else anywhere that comes within the Colonial category. In their design and construction sincerity of purpose is manifest; their sturdy simplicity and frank practicability give them a rare charm which appeals strongly to all lovers of the Colonial style in architecture.



CHAPTER VII

DOORWAYS AND PORCHES

Invariably one associates a house with its front entrance, for the doorway is the dominant feature of the facade, the keynote so to speak. Truly utilitarian in purpose, and so lending itself more logically to elaboration for the sake of decorative effect, the doorway became the principal single feature of a Colonial exterior. When designed in complete accord with the house it lends distinction and charm to the building as a whole.

Like men, doorways have character and individuality. Indeed, in their individuality they reflect the character of those who built them. They symbolize the house as a whole and usually the mien of its occupants; they create the first impressions which the guest has of his host, and foretell more or less accurately the sort of welcome to be expected.

The houses of Philadelphia and vicinity, perhaps more than those of any other American city, possess the charm of architectural merit combined with historic interest. To appreciate more fully the important part played by Philadelphians in early American affairs, we study their houses and home life, and as the primary index to the domestic architecture of the vicinity we direct our attention to the doorways and porches.

Like the houses, the doorways range in architectural pretension from the unaffected simplicity of Wyck to the stately elaboration of Cliveden and Mount Pleasant, and possess distinctive characteristics not seen elsewhere. Wealth made Philadelphia the most fashionable American city of the time, with all the attendant rivalries and jealousies of such a condition. Desiring to put the best foot foremost, elaboration of the doorway provided a ready means to display the self-esteem, affluence and social position of the owner. Naturally the Quaker severity of former years was reflected in many of these outward manifestations of home life, and it is a study of absorbing interest to note the proportions and resulting spirit, so unlike New England doorways, which the local builders gave to their adaptations from the same Renaissance motives. Summed up in a sentence, the high, narrow doorways of Philadelphia, for the most part without the welcoming side lights of New England, speak truly of Quaker severity and the exclusiveness of the old aristocratic families.



As to the doors themselves, four distinct types were common throughout the Colonial period. Single and double doors were equally popular, high, narrow double doors being favored for the more pretentious houses, although instances are not lacking of single doors in the mansions of Colonial times. With very few exceptions molded and raised panels with broad bevels were used in all, and it is according to the arrangement of these panels that the different types of doors are best classified.

One of the earliest and simplest was the six-panel single door with three stiles of about equal width, top and frieze rail about the same, bottom rail somewhat wider and lock rail about double the width of the frieze rail. The upper pair of panels were not quite high enough to be square, while the middle and lower pairs were oblong in shape, the middle one being higher than the lower. Rarely this relation was reversed, and the lower pair was higher than the middle pair, the door at Number 6504 Germantown Avenue being an example. As found in the farmhouses of Germantown and thereabouts, notably Wyck, Glen Fern, the Green Tree Inn and the Johnson and Billmeyer houses, these six-panel doors were split horizontally through the lock rail, dividing them into an upper and lower part. This arrangement made it possible to open the upper part for ventilation while keeping the lower part closed to prevent stray animals and fowls from entering the house. Numerous examples of undivided six-panel doors are shown by accompanying illustrations and referred to in detail in succeeding paragraphs. Of these the door of Grumblethorpe is unique in having a double stile in the middle, giving almost the appearance of double doors.

Three-panel double doors, such as those of Mount Pleasant, Solitude and Port Royal House, were less common than any of the four principal types mentioned, and were little used except for a few decades after the middle of the eighteenth century. Like six-panel single doors, the upper panel was often almost square, and the middle oblong panel higher than the bottom one of the same shape. At Mount Pleasant the middle and lower panels were of the same size.

Eight-panel single doors were employed extensively throughout the eighteenth century, and this is one of the most picturesque and distinctive of Philadelphia types. For the most part the panels were arranged as shown by the doors of the Perot-Morris, Powel and Wharton houses with a pair of small and large panels in alternation. Other notable instances are to be seen at Loudoun, Chalkley Hall and the Blackwell house. The top or first and third pairs were about half as high as their width, while the second and fourth pairs were oblong and usually of the same size, their height about one and one-half times their width. The door at Upsala is a rare instance of the fourth pair of panels lower than the second, whereas that at Number 301 South Seventh Street shows this type with molded flat panels. As is well shown by the door of the Perot-Morris house, the fourth rail was the broad lock rail, and as in those days the latch was often separate, it was frequently placed on the rail above, and hence often referred to as the latch rail.

Another less common type of eight-panel single door is shown in accompanying illustrations by doors at Number 4908 Germantown Avenue, Number 39 Fisher's Lane, Wayne Junction and Number 224 South Eighth Street. The panel arrangement consisted of three pairs of nearly square panels above the lock rail and one pair twice as high below. Of the doors mentioned, that at Wayne Junction is unique in its flat molded panels.

A corresponding panel arrangement of double doors is to be seen at The Highlands. Usually, however, four-panel double doors took the alternate small and large panel arrangement and were virtually halves of the more common type of eight-panel single door. Such doors at Stenton, Cliveden and the Morris house are illustrated in detail, and similar ones gave entrance to Hope Lodge, Woodford and Vernon. The Woodford doors are interesting for their glazed quatrefoil openings in the top pair of panels, the Vernon doors for a handsome brass knocker on the second panel of each one.

For the most part Philadelphia doorways were deeply recessed in connection with stone construction because of the great thickness of the walls. Paneled jambs were let into the reveals of the opening, and whatever the panel arrangement of the door, a corresponding arrangement was followed in paneling the jambs and the soffit of the arch or flat lintel above. Such a distinctive and pleasing feature did this become that it was widely adapted to brick construction, the outward projection of pilasters and engaged columns, often both, supporting pediments and entablatures which had the effect of increasing the depth of brick walls.

The simplest type of Philadelphia doorway is that common to the ledge and "brick" stone farmhouses of Germantown, of which the doorway of the Johnson house is perhaps the best example. These houses usually had a penthouse roof along the second-floor level, and as in this instance a pediment springing from this roof usually formed a hood above the doorway. Although this doorway with its molded casings, four-paned horizontal transom and single door with six molded and raised panels is of the most modest character, its simple lines and good proportions present an effect of picturesque charm. The door is divided horizontally into two parts, after the Dutch manner, like many farmhouse doors of the neighborhood. The position of the drop handle replacing the usual knob indicates the size of the great rim lock within, and the graceful design of the brass knocker is justly one of the most popular to-day. The seats flanking the entrance are unique and unlike any others in Philadelphia, although those between the two doors of the Billmeyer house near by are similar.



Substantially the same sort of doorway without the seats is to be seen at the old Green Tree Inn, Number 6019 Germantown Avenue, Germantown, erected in 1748. Here, however, the effect is slightly enriched by a nicely hand-tooled ovolo molding in the cornice of the penthouse roof that is repeated with an elliptical fan design in the pediment of the hood.

Another type of Philadelphia doorway only a little more elaborate than the foregoing is well illustrated at Number 114 League Street and Number 5933 Germantown Avenue. Above the architrave casing across the lintel of these deeply recessed doorways a frieze and pediment form an effective doorhead. The pedimental League Street doorhead is supported by hand-carved consoles at opposite ends, that of the Germantown Avenue doorhead by fluted pilasters. An oval shell pattern adorns the frieze of the former, while a denticulated molding enriches the latter. As contrasted with the plain cased frame of the former, the latter has paneled jambs and soffit, the spacing corresponding with that of the door. Both doors are of the popular six-panel type with nicely molded and raised panels, and both doorheads are elaborated by short, broader sections of the vertical casings near the top. In refinement of detail and proportion, and in precision of workmanship the Germantown Avenue doorway surpasses that on League Street.

But the characteristic type of pedimental door trim in Philadelphia takes a different form. About the middle of the eighteenth century the plain horizontal transom above outside doors was generally replaced by the more graceful semicircular fanlight, the glass area of which was divided by sash bars or leaded lines into numerous radiating patterns of more or less grace and beauty. By omitting the entablature of the common horizontal doorhead and breaking the base of the pediment, the round arch of the fanlight was made to fit very nicely within the sloping sides of the pediment, the keystone of the arched casing occupying the upper angle beneath the peak of the gable. Pilasters or engaged columns support the pediment, their upper molded portion above the necking being carried across the horizontal lintel of the door frame. From the capitals up to the short cornice returns, replacing the usual base of the pediment, the spirit of the entablature is retained by pilaster projections molded after the manner of cornice, frieze and architrave.

Excellent doorways such as this with fluted pilaster casings, single doors with six molded and raised panels of familiar arrangement and paneled jambs and soffit to correspond are to be seen at Number 5011 Germantown Avenue, Germantown, and Number 247 Pine Street. The former is of considerable breadth, as Philadelphia doorways go, and the fanlight is of rather too intricate pattern and heavy scale. The latter is exceptionally narrow, with pilasters in accord and a fanlight of chaste simplicity. Like many others the door itself is dark painted and in striking contrast to the other white wood trim. One notices at once the strange placing of the knob at the top rather than in the middle of the lock rail, and the footscraper in a separate block of marble in the sidewalk at one side of the marble steps, the inference being that one should scrupulously wipe his feet before approaching the door.

Similar to these, but showing better proportion and greater refinement of detail, is the entrance to the Morris house, one of the best known doorways in Philadelphia and notable as one of the relatively few pedimental doorways of this type having the high four-panel double doors. The pediment framing the simple but very graceful fanlight is enriched by cornice moldings, hand-tooled to fine scale, the soffit of the corona being fluted, the bed-molding reeded and the dentil course being a familiar Grecian fret. Flutings also adorn the short architraves each side of the fanlight, and the abacus of the pilaster columns which is carried across a supplementary lintel in front of the lintel proper, the latter being several inches to the rear because of the deeply recessed arrangement of the door. The detail combines Doric and Ionic inspiration. An attractive knocker, simple brass knob and exceptionally large key plate indicating the great rim lock within, lend a quaint charm to a doorway distinctly pleasing in its entirety.

Two excellent doorways of this general type having paneled instead of fluted pilaster casings may be seen at Number 6504 Germantown Avenue, Germantown, and Number 701 South Seventh Street. The former is broad and has a six-panel door much like that at Number 5011 Germantown Avenue, but the fanlight is of simpler pattern and withal more pleasing. A fine-scale dentil course lends interest to the pedimental cornice, while the frieze portions of the entablature section of the pilasters are elaborated by flutings and drillings, the latter suggestive of a festoon. A knocker of slender grace is the best feature of the hardware. The South Seventh Street entrance, higher and narrower, presents another example of the dark-painted door rendered the more interesting by reason of its eight-panel arrangement, the spacing being that usually employed for double doors. The wood trim, molded but nowhere carved, commends itself for effective simplicity. Two marble steps, the upper one very deep, with an attractive iron rail on the buttresses at each side, complete a doorway picture that is typically Philadelphian.



Surpassing both of the foregoing, however, is the doorway at Number 709 Spruce Street. Indeed, it is among the best of its type in the city. It has the simple excellence in detail of the South Seventh Street doorway, with better proportion, less height of pediment and greater apparent breadth, owing to the six-panel arrangement of the door and the fact that it is white like the wood trim about it. The only carved molding is the Grecian fret of the dentil course in the pedimental cornice. Here again another favorite knocker pattern greets the eye.

Engaged round columns, usually smooth and standing in front of wide pilasters, were often pleasing features of these pedimental doorways. In such instances the projection was so great that the entablature sections above the columns were square, and the soffit of the corona in the pediment was paneled. Two notable instances may be cited at Number 5200 Germantown Avenue, Germantown, and Number 4927 Frankford Avenue. Both have the familiar six-panel doors with corresponding paneled jambs and arch soffit, attractively simple fanlights and much fine-scale hand carving in the pedimental cornice and architrave casing of the keyed arch. The former displays better taste. Effective use is made of a reeded ovolo, and the fascia of the architrave bears a pleasing hand-tooled band of vertical flutes with a festooned flat fillet running through it. The most distinctive feature, however, is the double denticulated molding of the pedimental cornice with prominent drilled holes in each dentil alternately at top and bottom.

Although representing a high degree of the wood-carvers' art, the other doorway is rather over-ornate in its detail. The reeded ovolo is again prominent, and the fascia of the architrave of the arch bears a familiar decorative motive consisting of groups of five flutes in alternation with a conventionalized flower. The dentil course of the pedimental cornice takes the form of a peculiar reeded H pattern which is repeated in much finer scale on the edge of the corona, the abacus of the capitals and its continuation across the lintel of the door. Least pleasing of all is the fluting of the frieze portion of the entablature sections with three sets of drillings suggestive of festoons.

Another admirable type of doorway, of which there are many examples in Philadelphia, frames the high, round-headed arch of the doorway with tall, slender engaged columns supporting a massive entablature above the semicircular fanlight over the door. Almost without exception the entablature is some variation of the Ionic order with denticulated bed-mold in the cornice, plain flat frieze and molded architrave, the latter sometimes enriched by incised decorative bands. The columns are Doric and smooth. They stand in front of more widely spaced pilasters, which are virtually a broadening of the casings of the door frame, and which support a second entablature back of the first and somewhat wider. The two combined form a doorhead with projection almost equal to a hood, but the effect is far more stately.

Such a doorway in its simplest form, with columns tapering considerably toward the top, in accordance with a prevalent local custom of the time, is to be seen on the Powel house, Number 244 South Third Street. The sash divisions of the fanlight are unique, suggesting both Gothic tracery and the lotus flower. The single, high eight-panel door recalls many having a similar arrangement of molded and raised panels, but differs from most of them in that the lock rail is about double the width of the two rails above.

Narrower, with more slender columns, and thus seemingly higher, is the doorway of the Wharton house, Number 336 Spruce Street. While the entablature is generally similar, the moldings adhere less closely to the classic order, and the same is true of the exceptionally slender columns. An enriched ovolo suggesting a quarter section of a cylinder and two disks in alternation lends added refinement to the paneled jambs and the architrave casing of the arch with its hand-carved keystone. The fanlight is of simple but pleasing pattern, and the eight-panel door is of characteristic design.

At Number 301 South Seventh Street the doorway itself strongly resembles that of the Powel house, except that it is higher, narrower and rather lighter in scale. However, the wing flights of stone steps on the sidewalk leading to a broad landing before the door and the handsome wrought-iron rail lend individuality and rare charm to this notable example of a familiar type.

The doorway of Grumblethorpe, Number 5621 Germantown Avenue, Germantown, differs little in general appearance, if considerably in detail, from that of the Powel house. One notices first how deeply recessed it is because of the thickness of the stone walls. With the projecting entablature it affords almost as much shelter as a porch. The single door next attracts attention. Of six-panel and familiar arrangement, it differs from most of this sort in having a double stile in the middle, the effect simulating double doors. A simple, hand-tooled ovolo ornaments the jambs and architrave casings of the keyed arch. It is also repeated above the double denticulated member of the cornice, the latter enriched by a hole drilled in each dentil alternately above and below. Daintiness and simplicity characterize the fanlight pattern set in lead lines.

The doorway at Number 6105 Germantown Avenue, Germantown, may be regarded as one of the best of the more ornate examples of this type.



It has fluted columns, an intricately hand-tooled dentil course in the cornice, richly incised architraves and carved ovolo moldings. The denticulated molding has fluted dentils with horizontal connecting members forming a sort of continuous H pattern. An incised band of dainty grace adorns the architrave of the entablature. It consists of groups of five vertical flutes in alternation with drillings forming upward and downward arcs or double festoons. The architrave of the arch and lintel has a slightly different incised pattern. There are the same fluted groups with oval ornaments composed of drillings between. The door itself is of the regulation six-panel arrangement.

Few doorways in the Corinthian order are to be found in what may properly be termed the Colonial architecture of Philadelphia, for this order was little used by American builders until early in the nineteenth century. The doorway of Doctor Denton's house in Germantown instances its employment in a somewhat original manner. The entablature follows the classic order closely, except for the tiny consoles of the dentil course and the incised decoration of the upper fascia of the architrave, consisting of a band of elongated hexagons which is repeated across the lintel of the door and the imposts of the arch. A Latin quotation, "Procuc este profans", meaning "Be far from here that which is unholy", is carved in the architrave casing over the fanlight. The columns are fluted, but have the Doric rather than the usual Corinthian capitals. Double blind doors such as are a feature of this entrance were the predecessor of the modern screen door. Arbor vitae trees in square wooden tubs on the broad top step each side of the doorway complete a formal treatment of dignity and attractiveness.

Rarely occurred a doorway having a complete entablature above a fanlight surmounted by a pediment. The east and west entrances of Mount Pleasant offer two splendid examples, massive and dignified. While much alike in several respects, they differ sufficiently in detail to afford an interesting comparison. In size and general arrangement in their double three-panel doors and smooth columns, they greatly resemble each other. Although not pure, the doorway of the west or river front is essentially Tuscan and of the utmost simplicity. Its chief distinction lies in the rustication of the casings, jambs and soffit, simulating stonework, and the heavy fanlight sash with its openings combining the keystone and arch in outline. The doorway of the east front, which is the entrance from the drive, is Doric and has the customary triglyphs, mutules and guttae. There is the same rustication of casings and jambs up to the height of the doors, but molded spandrils occupy the spaces each side of the round arch with its wide ornate keystone. Exceptionally broad tapering and fluted mullions lend distinction to the heavy fanlight sash with its round-ended openings. Neither of these doorways has the double projection of those previously described. The background pilasters are omitted, and the engaged columns stand directly against the stone masonry. A beautiful Palladian window in the second-story wall above each doorway forms a closely related feature, the two being virtually parts of the same effect.

Oftener, where an entablature supported by engaged columns was surmounted by a pediment, the fanlight over the door was omitted. Of the several instances in Philadelphia, the best known is undoubtedly the classic doorway of Cliveden, about which the Battle of Germantown raged most fiercely. The damage done by cannon balls to the stone steps may still be plainly seen. This doorway is one of the finest specimens of pure mutulary Doric in America, very stately and somewhat severe. Every detail is well-nigh perfect, and the proportions could hardly be better. A similar arrangement of the high, narrow, four-panel double doors is found elsewhere in Philadelphia, while the blinds used instead of screen doors recall those of Doctor Denton's house, although divided by two rails respectively toward the top and bottom into three sections, the middle section being the largest. Two small drop handles with pendant rings comprise the entire visible complement of hardware on the doors.

As compared with the east entrance of Mount Pleasant, the Cliveden detail is richer in the paneled soffits of the corona and the paneled metopes in alternation with the triglyphs of the frieze. One notices also that it is not deeply recessed according to the prevailing custom in the case of stone houses.

Another doorway of this general character and having double doors is the entrance to Solitude. Conventionally Ionic in detail, with smooth columns and voluted capitals, it pleases the eye but lacks the impressiveness of the doorway at Cliveden. The three-panel double doors are narrower, and this fact is emphasized by the deep recess with paneled jambs. There is but one broad step, which also serves as the threshold.

The doorway of the Perot-Morris house, deeply recessed because of the thick stone walls, presents at its best another variation of this sturdiest of Philadelphia types with a single, eight-panel, dark-painted door and a very broad top stone step before it. Virtually a pure Tuscan adaptation, it differs in a few particulars from others of similar character, notably in the pronounced tapering of the columns toward the top and the recessing of the entablature above the door to form pilaster projections above the columns. In other words, the recessed entablature of this doorhead replaces the fanlight of another type already referred to and of which the doorways at Number 5200 Germantown Avenue and Number 4927 Frankford Avenue are examples. The brass knob, the heavy iron latch and fastenings inside are the ones Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton, Knox and Randolph handled in passing in and out during Washington's occupancy.



Above the pediment is to be plainly seen the picturesque, cast-iron, hand-in-hand fire mark about a foot high, consisting of four clasped hands crossed in the unbreakable grasp of "My Lady Goes to London" of childhood days. This ancient design, to be seen on the Morris, Betsy Ross and numerous other houses, was that of the oldest fire insurance company in the United States, organized in 1752 under Franklin's leadership. This and other designs, such as the green tree, eagle, hand fire engine and hose and hydrant still remain on many old Philadelphia buildings, indicating in earlier years which company held the policy. For a long time it was the custom to place these emblems on all insured houses, the principal reason for doing so being that certain volunteer fire companies were financed or assisted by certain insurance companies and consequently made special efforts to save burning houses insured by the company concerned.

Porches were the exception rather than the rule in the early architecture of Philadelphia. Only a few old Colonial houses now remaining have them, and for the most part they are entrances to countryseats in the present suburbs rather than to residences in the city proper. The Highlands and Hope Lodge have such porches to which reference has already been made in connection with the houses themselves. Of scant architectural merit, the porch at Hope Lodge may possibly be of more recent origin than the house. Except for the narrow double doors the entrance to The Highlands is strongly reminiscent of New England doorways and porches. Both have hipped roofs so low as to be almost flat.

A splendid example of the gable roof or pedimental porch more typical of Philadelphia architecture is that at Upsala. Although displaying free use of the orders, it is regarded as one of the best in America. On a square stone platform reached by three broad stone steps, slender, fluted Doric columns, with engaged columns each side of the doorway, support a roof in the form of a pediment of generally Ionic character, the architrave and cornice being notable for fine-scale hand tooling. It will be noticed that the motive of the cornice with its jig-sawed modillions, rope molding and enriched dentil course suggests Ionic influence; that of the architrave, with its groups of five vertical flutings in alternation with an incised conventionalized flower, Doric. The same entablature is carried about the inside of the roof, projecting over the doorway to form a much favored Philadelphia doorhead supported by flanking engaged columns. The doorway itself is distinctly of Philadelphia type, high, relatively narrow, and deeply recessed, with the soffit of the arch and the cheeks of the jambs beautifully paneled and a handsome semicircular fanlight above the single eight-panel door but with no side lights. The effect of the keystone and imposts, also the enrichment of the semicircular architrave casings are characteristic. The paneling of the door consists of pairs of small and large panels in alternation, the upper pair of large panels being noticeably higher than the lower pair.

Of far more modest character is the porch of the old Henry house, Number 4908 Germantown Avenue, long occupied by Doctor W. S. Ambler. It is much smaller, extremely simple in its detail and of generally less pleasing proportions. Two slender, smooth columns and corresponding pilasters on the wall of the house support a pediment rather too flat for good appearance. Except for the Ionic capitals, the detail is rather nondescript as to its order. The round-arched, deeply recessed doorway has the usual paneled jambs and soffit, but the reeded casings and square impost blocks are of the sort that came into vogue about the beginning of the nineteenth century. The single door with its eight molded and raised panels is of that type, having three pairs of small panels of uniform size above a single pair of high panels, the lock rail being more than double the width of the rails above and wider than the bottom rail. Unlike the usual fanlight, this one is patterned after a much used Palladian window with sash bar divisions suggested by Gothic tracery.

At Number 39 Fisher's Lane, Wayne Junction, in connection with a doorway much like the above, is an elliptical porch much like those of Salem, Massachusetts, although devoid of their excellent proportion and nicety of detail. Both the porch platform and steps are of wood, but the slender, smooth columns supporting the roof, which takes the form of an entablature, stand on high stone bases. Only simple moldings have been employed, and the detail can hardly be said to belong to any particular order of architecture. The door itself is unusual in having molded flat rather than raised panels, while the fanlight is of more conventional pattern than that of the Henry house.

Side lights and elliptical fanlights, so characteristic of New England doorways, are as rare as porches in the Colonial architecture of Philadelphia. The entrance of The Highlands is thus unique in combining the three. The doorway at Number 224 South Eighth Street has the New England spirit in its breadth and general proportion; in the beauty of its leaded side lights and fanlight, but the broad stone steps on the sidewalk and the iron rails are typically Philadelphian. So, too, is the paneling of the wide single door. The ornate woodwork of the frame and casings, however, especially the frieze across the lintel, with its oval and elliptical fluted designs elaborately hand-tooled, suggests the Dutch influence of New York and New Jersey. The iron rails of the steps present an interesting instance of the adaptation of Gothic tracery, arches and quatrefoils.



The front doorway at Stenton may be regarded as the earliest instance of side lights in Philadelphia, and one of the earliest in America. The width of the brick piers or munions is such, however, that there are virtually two high narrow windows rather than side lights in the commonly accepted sense of the term. Indeed, they are treated as such, being divided into upper and lower sashes like those of the other windows, only narrower. Neither door nor windows have casings, the molded frames being let into the reveals of the brickwork and the openings, as in most early Colonial structures, having relieving arches with brick cores. A six-paned, horizontal toplight above the doors corresponds in scale with the windows. This simple entrance, with its high, narrow, four-panel doors having neither knob or latch, is reached from a brick-paved walk about the house by three semicircular stone steps, such as were common in England at the time, the various nicely hewn pieces being fastened securely together with iron bands. Severity is written in every line, yet there is a picturesque charm about this quaint doorway that attracts all who see it. In this the warmth and texture of the brickwork play a large part, but much is also due to the flanking slender trellises supporting vines which have spread over the brickwork above in the most fascinating manner.

Toward the beginning of the nineteenth century and for a few decades thereafter, under the influence of the Greek revival, a new type of round-arched doorway was developed in Philadelphia,—broader, simpler, heavier in treatment than most of the foregoing. There were no ornamental casings, the only woodwork being the heavy frame let into the reveals of the brick wall. Above a horizontal lintel treated after the manner of an architrave the semicircular fanlight was set in highly ornamental lead lines forming a decorative geometrical pattern. Double doors were the rule, most of them four-panel with a small and large panel in alternation like many earlier doors, but the panels were molded and sunken rather than raised. In a few instances there was a single vertical panel to each door, sometimes round-topped as on the doors of the Randolph house, Number 321 South Fourth Street.

The most distinctive of these doorways is that at the southeast corner of Eighth and Spruce streets, where elliptical winding flights lead to a landing before the door. The ironwork is undoubtedly among the most graceful and best preserved in the city. This low, broad entrance resembles Southern doorways rather than the Philadelphia type, although there are a few others of similar character near by. The wide, flat casings and single-panel doors seem severe indeed by comparison with most of the earlier doorways with their greater flexibility of line.

Generally similar, the doorway of the old Shippen mansion, Number 1109 Walnut Street, with its straight flight of stone steps unadorned in any way, is less attractive except in the paneling of the doors. It lacks the grace of the winding stairs and the charm of the iron balustrade so much admired in the former. The fanlight pattern, good as it is, fails to make as strong an appeal as that of the other doorway.

At the northeast corner of Third and Pine streets is to be found a very narrow doorway of this character, its double doors paneled like those of the Shippen mansion and its graceful fanlight pattern more like that of the doorway at Eighth and Spruce streets, though differing considerably in detail. Like many others in Philadelphia this doorway is reached by four stone steps leading to a square stone platform, the entire construction being on the brick-paved sidewalk. The simple, slender rail of wrought iron, its chief decoration a repeated spiral, is the best feature.

Philadelphia, perhaps more than any other American city, is famous for the profusion and beauty of its ironwork, wrought and cast. For the most part it took the form of stair rails or balustrades, fences and foot scrapers, and many are the doorways of little or no architectural merit which are rendered beautiful by the accompanying ironwork. On the other hand, accompanying illustrations already discussed show the rare beauty of architecturally notable doorways enriched by the addition of good ironwork.

Fences were the exception rather than the rule in Colonial times, although rarely employed along the front of a house to prevent passers from accidentally stepping into areaways in the sidewalk in front of basement windows. The danger of such a catastrophe was remote, however, for Philadelphia sidewalks were very broad in order to make room for the customary stoop before the doorway and the frequent rolling way or basement entrance. These sidewalk obstructions being the rule, people formed the habit of walking near the curb, and accidents were thus avoided. It was not until late in the nineteenth century, when basement entrances with an open stairway along the front of the house began to be provided, that fences came into vogue, except in the suburbs, where a small front yard was sometimes surrounded by an iron fence.



Stoops divide themselves into four principal classes, of which the first, consisting only of a single broad stone step before the doorway, perhaps hardly warrants the term. As at Grumblethorpe and the Morris house, these broad stone steps often had no ironwork other than a foot scraper set in one end or in the sidewalk near by. Again, as at the entrance to the Wistar house, there were iron handrails or balustrades at both sides. Less common, though by no means infrequent, were the stoops of this sort with a single handrail at one side.

These handrails or balustrades, replacing the stone parapets so common in other American cities, are patterned after the cathedral grilles and screens of the Middle Ages and consist of both Gothic and Classic detail utilized with ingenuity and good taste. Most of the earlier designs are hand wrought. Later, cast iron came into use, and much of the most interesting ironwork combines the two. The balustrade at the Wistar house just referred to is a typical example of excellent cast-iron work, the design consisting of a diaper pattern of Gothic tracery with harmonious decorative bands above and below.

The Germantown farmhouse presents another variant of this first and simplest type of stoop with a hooded penthouse roof above and quaint side seats flanking the doorway. As at the Johnson house, the broad stone step was sometimes flush with the sidewalk pavement.

The second type of stoop consists of a broad stone step or platform before the door with a straight flight of stone steps leading up to it. Cliveden, Mount Pleasant and Doctor Denton's house are notable instances of such stoops without handrails of any sort. The Powel house stoop of this type has one of the simplest wrought-iron rails in the city, while that of the house at Number 224 South Eighth Street, with its effective Gothic detail, combines wrought and cast iron. Two very effective wrought-iron handrails for stoops of this type, depending almost entirely upon scroll work at the top and bottom for their elaboration, are to be seen at Number 130 Race Street and Number 216 South Ninth Street, the handsome scroll pattern of the latter being the same as at the southeast corner of Seventh and Spruce streets, already referred to, and the former being given a distinctive touch by two large balls used as newels. Sometimes, as at Number 701 South Seventh Street, there was only one step between the platform of the stoop and the sidewalk, when its appearance was essentially the same as a stoop of the first type such as that of the Wistar house.

The third type of stoop has the same broad platform before the door, but the flight of steps is along the front of the house at one side rather than directly in front. While these were oftener straight, as in the case of the doorway at the northeast corner of Third and Pine streets, already referred to, they were frequently curved, as at Number 316 South Third Street. Both have a wrought-iron rail with the same scroll pattern of effective simplicity, a pattern much favored in modern adaptation. Another stoop of this type at Number 272 South American Street is high enough to permit a basement entrance beneath the platform. The ironwork is beautifully hand-wrought in the Florentine manner, its elaborate scroll pattern beneath an evolute spiral band combining round ball spindles with flat bent fillets, and the curved newel treatment at each side adding materially to the grace of the whole.

The fourth type of stoop has double or wing flights each side of the platform before the door. The doorway at Number 301 South Seventh Street, already referred to, is the most notable instance of straight flights in Philadelphia, while that at the southeast corner of Eighth and Spruce streets occupies the same position in respect to curved flights. The wrought ironwork of the latter is superb. Rich in effect, yet essentially simple in design, it has grace in every line, is not too ornate and displays splendid workmanship. Again a spiral design is conspicuous in the stair balustrades, and the curved newel treatment recalls that of the foregoing stoop. The balustrade of the platform consists of a simple diaper pattern of intersecting arcs with the familiar evolute band above and below. The wing flight was a convenient arrangement for double houses, as instanced by the old Billmeyer house in Germantown, with its exceedingly plain iron handrail and straight spindles. Of more interest is the balustrade at Number 207 La Grange Alley with its evolute spiral band and slender ball spindles beneath.