No Need to Empty the China Cabinet: Just Pick Up and Move Your DC Townhouse in 1907.

When we begin a house history and literally hit a brick wall when we start researching, something is amiss.  We double checked lot numbers, house numbers, and even the Square number, but one recent project left us stumped.  Of all possibilities, we never would have guessed that the three story, 114 year old townhouse we were researching had been moved just eight years after it had been built.  Moved only 25 feet, that is, without the need to even empty the china cabinet.     

The owner  of the vacant lot where 2108 Bancroft Place, NW was to be constructed beginning in 1899, John James Hemphill (left) likely never envisioned that his soon to be built house would be astonishingly moved in its entirety to the adjoining lot just eight years later, in 1907. The house he constructed at 2108 Bancroft was indeed painstakingly relocated next door, where it is found at 2110 Bancroft Place today (right). 

 “JJ” Hemphill as he was known, applied for and was granted an Application for Permit to Build numbered 1778 for the house on June 7, 1899.  He listed architect Lemuel Norris (1838-1940) as responsible for its design, and William P. Lipscomb as the general contractor. It was estimated to have cost $12,000 to construct.  

John James Hemphill (August 25, 1849 - May 11, 1912) was a U.S. Representative from South Carolina, elected as a Democrat to the Forty-eighth and to the four succeeding Congresses (March 4, 1883-March 3, 1893).

 

The Moving of 2108 Bancroft Place to 2110 Bancroft Place

Shortly before April of 1907, Hemphill’s neighbor to the east constructed a high brick wall that Hemphill felt obstructed his views. A good brick (fence) wall apparently did not make good neighbors, and Hemphill took the drastic step of planning to move his house twenty-five feet west onto an adjoining vacant lot. It was a risky maneuver, and had not been accomplished in Washington prior to 1907. In addition to the move, the house had to be raised eighteen inches to accommodate the street grade. It would cost $4,500.  Remember, the house cost $12,000 to build!

Hemphill obtained a Permit to Repair or Reconstruct Buildings numbered 3346 on April 24, 1907. He indicated that a mechanic at the Sheeler Company would oversee the operation and an article in the May 26, 1907 Washington Post revealed that the move took about three weeks to accomplish.  They planned on supporting the wood bay on the east side with copper, and would add a rear brick addition measuring twelve by sixteen feet once the house was in its new location. The text from the Post appears here.

Mary Clements recalls in her oral history interview with homeowner Elizabeth Hemphill that she had indicated that she didn’t even have to empty her china closet the move went so smoothly. Interestingly, despite the fact that the house had been moved to its new location at 2110 Bancroft Place and a new house was under construction at 2108 that began in 1909, the 1910 census still refers to the Hemphill family as residing at 2108. It was likely due to the address number still affixed to the exterior, replaced when the house to the east was finished. In any event, it showed Mr. and Mrs. Hemphill as occupants, along with their 17- year-old son John. They had one live-in, Mulatto servant names Sarah J. Johnson, who had been born in Virginia about 1872.  

Somewhat surprisingly, just two years after the drastic move due to his loss of view to the east, Hemphill himself obtained a permit to construct a new house on the lot where his own had been moved. He once again hired Lemuel Norris to design 2108 Bancroft Place, which was constructed shortly after the permit was issued on March 23, 1909. It was built by the Lipscomb Company at a cost of $15,000. The front elevation plan was included along with the permit, illustrated at left.

   

Copyright Paul K. Williams

Death by Tiger: It Happened in 1899 in Washington, DC

Circus Tiger by Maureen Siegart (no relation to Charles)

When one begins to explore the “cause of death” among the 65,000 interred at Congressional Cemetery, your imagination begins to recreate the ultimate demise from myriad illnesses, murders, train wrecks, auto accidents, drownings and the like.  But one really stood out to me recently: an 1899 death “by tiger bite.”  The cemetery is also competing for a share of $1M from AmEx and the NTHP until May 10, 2013 by popular vote.
     

How was that possible in Washington, DC?  Well, the Wallace Circus was in town, and so were its many animals.  21-year-old Charles Siegert was in charge of the shows ponies, but developed a strange and dangerous habit of sleeping on top of the tiger cage, which ultimately led to his demise.  As he slept atop a Bengal tiger named “Old Ben” the evening of September 4, 1899, he turned in his sleep shortly after 1:30 am and his leg dropped down the side of the cage.  The Washington Post reported:

A Wallace Circus animal cage

                “The beast appears to have put out one great paw through the bars, and with its long, sharp teeth clutched Siegert’s leg.  Siegert felt the horrible grip on his leg, realized what had happened, and, as the tiger pulled his leg into the cage, Siegert was dragged over its side.  The beast had his calf between its teeth and Siegert’s body caught at the knee of the imprisoned foot and hung full in reach of the tiger.  His cries awakened the whole tent and while men ran to his assistance the other animals roared and growled at the uproar.  Torches were pushed at the tiger; employees who were familiar with similar accidents got clubs and pushed them hard against the tiger’s nose.  He hung on till his own pain caused the grip of his teeth to relax and the instant they did so Siegert was pulled away.  His wounds were hastily dressed and the police notified.”

               

Siegert, ironically a butcher by trade, had joined the circus just eleven weeks before, when it rolled out of Tolleston, Indiana.  He had endured the horrible accident for a full ten minutes.  He was taken to Emergency Hospital, where the reality of his wound was revealed.  The Post described that “part of the calf had been torn away, and at the knee and the exposed bone showed indentations of the great teeth of the beast.  Muscles, sinews, and flesh hung in ribbons from the great wound.”                 

                An employee of the circus visited the hospital, but it was reported that he had no interest in Siegert, and coldly announced that he was only there to reclaim the bloodied quilt which had been wrapped around Siegerts leg.    

                Surgeons initially thought they could sew the wound back together, but eventually, at 8 pm on September 5, 1899, the leg was amputated below the knee by William P. Carr.  The stress, blood loss, and infection took Siegerts life just five hours later, at 1 am on September 6^th.  

As they say in the business, “the show must go on,” and the Wallace Circus pulled out of town that morning.  Little was known about his family, and after several days of local media attention, a local insurance man named Robert Cook took pity on the situation, purchased and buried him in Congressional Cemetery on September 7^th.  The site remains unmarked to this day (at Site 130/Range 250).   

A week later, the circus finally located his father Julius G. Siegert in La Porte, Indiana (who had been born in Russia about 1847), and sent him a telegram about the death of his son.  He wrote a letter to the Washington Post which was received on September 12, offering to pay for his son’s internment, but the funeral had already taken place. 

If you want to assist in creating a marker, now is you chance!  The cemetery has a kickstarter project where you can contribute, vote on a design, and finally get a monument installed at the site.  Think of the design possibilities!  Be part of the process HERE.           

The Wallace Circus

                Benjamin Wallace, a livery stable owner from Peru, Indiana, and his business partner, James Anderson, bought a circus in 1884 and created "The Great Wallace Show."  The show gained some prominence when their copyright for advertising posters was upheld by the Supreme Court in the Bleistein v. Donaldson Lithographing Company case.  

Wallace bought out his partner in 1890 and formed the "B. E. Wallace Circus.”  It later merged with another circus and became the Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus. 

In 1913, the circus lost 8 elephants, 21 lions, 8 horses and several tigers in the Wabash River flood.   Its unknown if one of the tigers drowned included "Big Ben," the Bengal that killed Charles Siegert.

Another tragedy struck the circus just before 4:00 a.m. on June 22, 1918, when a locomotive engineer fell asleep and ran his empty troop train into the rear of the circus train near Hammond, Indiana.  A fire broke out and quickly spread through the wooden sleeping cars.  86 persons died and another 127 were injured, with many victims were burned beyond recognition.  Most are buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in Forest Park, Illinois in a section set aside as Showmen's Rest, marked by large elephant memorials.

Copyright Paul K. Williams

The Man Who Could Bend a Dime with His Fingers!

Sadly buried in an unmarked grave at R80/S385 at Congressional Cemetery is Russian born actor, writer, and director Nicholas Alexander Dunaev, who appeared in no less than thirty-four Hollywood films in the 1910s and 1920s.  Long since forgotten, perhaps his most eccentric trait was his unusual ability to bend a dime in half, using only his fingertips.  He was obviously a hit at many a Hollywood party in the roaring twenties.  

And speaking of parties, Dunaev made news one night in 1924 when he joined Charlie Chaplin and other actors for dinner at the exclusive Café Petroushka in Hollywood when oil magnate Julian Pete reportedly bumped - on purpose - Chaplin’s controversial date, actress Mary Miles Minter.  An accomplished actress, she was black listed two years prior when she had been implicated in the mysterious death of director William Desmond Taylor.  A fight ensued, Chaplin received a punch to the eye, but our Dunaev came to the rescue during a free-for-all.  He punched Julian Pete twice, and was quoted as saying “If Julian had been a dime, I’d have bent him in two.”[1] 

                     

Dunaev was born on May 26, 1884 in Moscow, Russia as Nicholas Dunay.  He was the son of a Czarist nobleman, former Lord Mayor of Moscow, and a graduate of the University of Moscow Law School.   Active in the Russian revolution in 1917, he was an associate of Alexander Kerensky, head of the provisional government which was toppled by the Bolshevik revolution.  He was arrested and sent to Siberia in exile, from where he escaped.  He made his way to France, where he married novelist Edith Donnerburg; she died just two years later.  He once penned “The act of killing the spirit in a man, of obliterating all sense of honor, faith, and a desire for better things, is as surely homicide as through the man's soul were taken from his body.”

Dunaev came to the United States in 1919 to work as a writer, actor, and director at the Vitagraph Corporation, one of the first motion film companies.  To his new American friends, he was known as “Kolya,” short for his Russian accent pronounced ‘Nicholas.’  With the advent of “talkies,” Dunaev moved to Hollywood to work for the World Film Corporation where he earned another nickname “the strongman from Moscow.”  He starred with Otis Skinner in the original “Kismet.”  His self-written play “The Spider” starred himself, and played on Broadway in the 1920s.  

He married a Ziegfeld Follies danced named Ina Byron that ended in divorce after just two years.  He apparently garnered 100,000 votes for Roosevelt, earning a special commendation from the President.  He moved to Washington, DC in 1937, and eventually wrote the President in 1947 for a job, which he was denied due to his Civil Service status.  He was broke and destitute, he said, renting the modest apartment C at 1417 Belmont Street, NW (left, since razed).  He authored a novel entitled “Seven Doors to Sin” that was published by Vantage Press in 1954.  He eventually moved in with a couple at 931 New Hampshire Avenue, NW, when he fell ill and died in 1963.     

       

Dunaev once wrote “There can never be a happy ending to a poet’s life, for the ending is its essential tragedy.”   

Copyright Paul K. Williams

A list of movies and other works from the IMBd website at 

1. Two Arabian Knights (1927) (as Nicholas Dunaev) .... Mirza's Man Servant
2. The Palace of Darkened Windows (1920) .... The Snake Charmer
3. Kismet (1920) .... Nasir
4. The Devil's Riddle (1920) .... Paul Evers
5. Cheating Cheaters (1919) .... Antonio Verdi
6. The Velvet Hand (1918) .... Secretary
7. The Yellow Ticket (1918)
8. The Firebrand (1918) .... Dmitri
9. The Flower of Doom (1917) .... Paul Rasnov
10. The Pulse of Life (1917) .... Domenic
11. The Scarlet Crystal (1917)
12. The Reward of the Faithless (1917) .... Feodor Strogoff
13. The World Against Him (1916) .... Peblo
14. Who Killed Simon Baird? (1916) .... Kimba... aka "By Whose Hand?" - (alternative title)
15. The Yellow Passport (1916) .... Music Master... aka "The Badge of Shame" 

African-American cook-shops and 'hotels' in early Washington, DC

The image of a sole shopkeeper tending his roadside stand at 1st Street and Florida Avenue, NE at first does little more than remind Washingtonians about the rural nature of what was then still considered the edge of town, when the image was taken shortly after the turn of the twentieth century.  Upon closer inspection, however, the image reveals walls covered with philosophical sayings and observations, some of which might not ever be explained.  The image certainly is a rare snapshot of a lifestyle experienced by hundreds of thousands of post Civil War African Americans that eventually flooded Washington DC in the search for jobs in the decades following the War. 

The man and proprietor of the stand is Keith Sutherland, who pronounced his name “Keitt.”  He had been born enslaved in Charles County, Maryland about 1854, and escaped to Washington in 1862.  He first worked polishing shoes around the Treasury building, and recalled in a 1900 Washington Post article about watching President Lincoln’s funeral possession pass by, with a white horse tied behind the hearse.  He then resided, as did hundreds if not thousands of freed blacks, in a contraband camp in a large vacant Square just south of 12^th and S Street, NW, where the Garrison Elementary school now exists.  The squalid conditions, bars, poolrooms, tents and shacks extended southward for a block in an area appropriately coined “Hell’s Bottom.”        

Sutherland eventually opened a ramshackle food stall at 1111 R Street, in the heart of Hells Bottom.  In 1897, a Post article reported that there were hundreds of such stands, located in nearly every alley of the city.  It read:  “The alleys of this city are filled with colored cook-shops, which heretofore have paid no license fee…only the police and the people who visit the numerous alleys and little streets of the city know how many of these cook-shops exist. The colored people generally resort to these places for pigs' feet, meat pie, and substantial provender prepared by the old mammies and quaint old colored men who run them, and cook dishes to the taste of the people of their race.” (Washington Post, January 1, 1897).  At the time, Sutherland was fined $25 for not having a license, as a new enforcement took place.      

In 1900, Sutherland was interviewed at his stand in Hell’s Bottom, which offers a rare glimpse into life in the neighborhood at the time.  He stated: “There were two very lively places in those days. One was a triangular square at Rhode Island avenue and Eleventh street. It was here that an eloquent colored preacher, who went by the name of ‘John the Baptist,’ used to hold revival services, which were attended by the newly-freed slaves. The revival was all right, but the four or five barrooms in the neighborhood used to hold the overflow meetings, and when the crowds went home at night you couldn’t tell whether they were shouting from religion or whisky.

The Lincoln Séance at a House in Georgetown

The house located today at 3226 N Street was built between 1876-1877 by Thomas Loockerman, a successful dentist.  However, there was at least one prior dwelling on the site, built before 1851 and probably as early as the 1820s.  In the late 19^th century there were claims that during the Civil Wall President Abraham Lincoln attended a séance there.  City directories show people living on the site at least as early as 1863.[1]

The Lincoln Séance

 

 Thomas Knowles  purchased the two story house then known as 21 First Street in 1851.  According to city directories, 3226 N Street was occupied in 1863 by Cranstoun Laurie, identified as “chief clerk, Post Office Dept.”  Laurie and his wife Margaret had three children, including a daughter, Mary Isabella, nicknamed Belle.  Cranstoun Laurie’s father was the founder and first Rector of what is now New York Avenue Presbyterian Church. 

Years later, in 1891, Nettie Colburn Maynard wrote a book entitled Was Abraham Lincoln a Spiritualist?  Or Curious Revelations from the Life of a Trance Medium[2],  in which she described the activities of Mr. and Mrs. Laurie, and particularly their daughter Belle, as spiritual mediums.  The book tells of President Lincoln’s participation in a séance at 21 First Street on February 5, 1863 (150 years ago on Feb 5, 2013!):

Illustration from Was Abraham Lincoln a Spritualist? 

One morning, early in February, we received a note from Mrs. Lincoln, saying she desired us to come over to Georgetown and bring some friends for a seance that evening, and wished the "young ladies" to be present. In the early part of the evening, before her arrival, my little messenger, or "familiar" spirit, controlled me, and declared that (the "long brave," as she denominated him) Mr. Lincoln would also be there.

… [At the gathering that evening] he [Lincoln] turned to me and said, “Well, Miss Nettie; do you think you have anything to say to me tonight?" At first I thought he referred to the request I had made when he entered the room. Recollecting myself, however, I said, "If I have not, there may be others who have." He nodded his head in a pleasant manner, saying, "Suppose we see what they will have to tell us."

Among the spirit friends that have ever controlled me since my first development was one I have before mentioned – known as "old Dr. Bamford." He was quite a favorite with Mr. Lincoln. His quaint dialect, old-fashioned methods of expression, straightforwardness in arriving at his subject, together with fearlessness of utterance, recommended him as no finished style could have done. This spirit took possession of me at once. As I learned from those in the circle, the substance of his remarks was as follows: "That a very precarious state of things existed at the front, where General Hooker had just taken command. The army was totally demoralized; regiments stacking arms, refusing to obey orders or to do duty; threatening a general retreat; declaring their purpose to return to Washington. A vivid picture was drawn of the terrible state of affairs, greatly to the surprise of all present, save the chief to whom the words were addressed. When the picture had been painted in vivid colors, Mr. Lincoln quietly remarked: " You seem to understand the situation. Can you point out the remedy?" Dr. Bamford immediately replied: "Yes; if you have the courage to use it." "He smiled," they said, and answered, "Try me." The old doctor then said to him, "It is one of the simplest, and being so simple it may not appeal to you as being sufficient to cope with what threatens to prove a serious difficulty. The remedy lies with yourself. Go in person to the front; taking with you your wife and children; leaving behind your official dignity, and all manner of display. Resist the importunities of officials to accompany you, and take only such attendants as may be absolutely necessary; avoid the high-grade officers, and seek the tents of the private soldiers. Inquire into their grievances; show Yourself to be what you are, 'The Father of your People.' "

Alexander Hesler photograph, June 1860

…It was at this seance that Mrs. Belle Miller gave an example of her power as a "moving medium," and highly amused and interested us by causing the piano to "waltz around the room," as was facetiously remarked in several recent newspaper articles. The true statement is as follows: Mrs. Miller played upon the piano (a three-corner grand), and under her influence it "rose and fell," keeping time to her touch in a perfectly regular manner. Mr. Laurie suggested that, as an added "test" of the invisible power that moved the piano, Mrs. Miller (his daughter) should place her hand on the instrument, standing at arm's length from it, to show that she was in no wise connected with its movement other than as agent. Mr. Lincoln then placed his hand underneath the piano, at the end nearest Mrs. Miller, who placed her left hand upon his to demonstrate that neither strength nor pressure was used. In this position the piano rose and fell a number of times at her bidding. At Mr. Laurie's desire the President changed his position to another side, meeting with the same result.

The President, with a quaint smile, said, “I think we can hold down that instrument." Whereupon he climbed upon it, sitting with his legs dangling over the side, as also did Mr. Somes, S. P. Kase, and a soldier in the uniform of a major (who, if living, will recall the strange scene) from the Army of the Potomac. The piano, notwithstanding this enormous added weight, continued to wabble [sic] about until the sitters were glad “to vacate the premises." We were convinced that there were no mechanical contrivances to produce the strange result, and Mr. Lincoln expressed himself perfectly satisfied that the motion was caused by some "invisible power"…

John Buescher wrote a lengthy Internet posting[3] about Lincoln’s interactions with the Lauries and about the séance, relating it to a lock of Lincoln’s hair in the possession of the Chicago Historical Society.  He quotes an 1885 letter from the Lauries’ son Jack confirming that the Lincolns did visit the Lauries’ home.  

At least one mainstream historian appears not to have given much credence to these stories.  Michael Burlingame’s massive 2008 biography of Lincoln[4] obviously attempts to be comprehensive, comprising two volumes of 1000 pages each.  However, the index contains no references to spiritualism, séances, the Lauries, Belle Miller or Nettie Colburn Maynard.  These omissions are despite considerable attention that Burlingame gives to the psychologies of President and Mrs. Lincoln and to Mrs. Lincoln’s at times eccentric behavior.

Thomas Knowles sold 21 First Street to Thomas G. Loockerman in August 1870.  Loockerman built the house that now stands on the property, and he and his descendants would reside in the house for 37 years and own it for 66 years.

Copyright Paul K. Williams and Kenneth G. Peters

---

[1] Boyd’s directories of Washington were an important source for this history.  The directories are not available for every year, so there are gaps in the information derived from them.  Although the directories provide a wealth of information, errors and omissions were not uncommon in them. 

[2] The book was published by Rufus C. Hartranft of Philadelphia and is available through Google Books.

[3] Unlocking the Mystery of a Lincoln Relic, www.spirithistory.com/lincoln.html.  The site no longer exists, but a copy of the posting is available in the Peabody Room of the D.C. Public Library Georgetown branch. 

[4] Burlingame, Abraham Lincoln, A Life, Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008.