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The Bellevue Hotel, part 6 – bicycles, new houses on Bloomingdale & Audubon

/ Emma C. Patterson

Another interesting sight along the Lancaster Pike in the 1880’s, but one quite different from the A. J. Cassatt tallyho described in last week’s column, was the “high wheel” bicycle. A later development of the first crude bicycle made in Scotland in 1839, the “high wheel”, or “ordinary”, as it was more commonly called, reached a high state of development both in this country and abroad about 1872, when bicycling became a popular sport.

By this time the heavy wooden wheels of the earlier bicycles had given place to lighter ones of metal, with their wire spokes set at a tangent to the center. Solid rubber tires were cemented to the rims, and the front wheel was made larger than before in order that a greater distance might be travelled with each revolution of the cranks. This tendency continued until the front wheels grew from 30 inches in diameter to 60 inches or more, while the rear wheel shrank to 12 inches or less. Racing models of this type could attain a speed of twenty miles an hour.

On these bicycles the rider sat almost directly over the high wheel, which was certainly not conductive to his safety. A fall from that high perch was a serious matter, but not an infrequent one, since roads were rough, and the going uncertain.

In 1876 the “Safety”, the forerunner of our modern day bicycle was invented. And from the time it was first marketed in a practicable form in 1885 the “Ordinary” was doomed, although it lingered until the early nineties, by which time it had been brought to a really high state of precision and lightness.

One of the quaint old pictures in Dr. Arms’ collection shows the “Century Club” of bicyclists as they stopped at the Bellevue Hotel en route to Lancaster from Philadelphia, or perhaps from Lancaster to Philadelphia. At any rate, it was a round trip which they were to make in one day, according tot he Century Club stipulations for the jaunt. Standing beside their high wheeled bicycles these riders present a quaint sight to present day travellers to whom such a trip would seem infinitely more hazardous than any by automobile could possibly be. Their costumes bespeak the era–tight knee length knickers with long stockings, equally snug shirts or jackets and small caps with almost invisible visors!

Henry Graham Ashmead’s “History of Delaware County” contains an excellent description of the neighborhood around the Bellevue as described by a reporter for the “Germantown Telegraph” in an article written for his paper under date of July 2, 1884. According to him, “a new town, or rather an aggregation of delightful suburban residences, is rapidly springing up within easy travelling distance of the city of Philadelphia, either by rail or Pike”. At that time not less than 50 “elegant residences” had been completed and occupied with about $600,000 invested in them. Still others were in process of building by the owners, Drexel and Childs.

The “Bellevue Mansion” he describes as “a charming summer resort . . . beautifully situated and approached by a fine macadamized road”. Plans had been drawn for seven “cottages” to be built just across the Pike from the hotel with indeed some of them already under construction. These “cottages” which today are considered homes of rather more than moderate size are still standing and in constant occupancy on the south side of Lancaster Highway between Bloomingdale and Audubon avenues. In addition to these seven new houses, Mr. Abbott of the Pennsylvania Railroad had already built “a fine cottage” in this same development, where according to our evidently news-conscious reporter, Mr. Abbott planned to spend his honeymoon!

Adjoining the Bellevue Hotel grounds on the East was the William D. Hughes homestead originally known as the old Cleaver Farm. Purchased by Mr. Hughes from J. Henry Askin in 1878 it remained in his possession until 1896 when it was bought by William Wood. Adjoining the Hotel on the west was “an elegant cottage” which in 1884 was just being built by Mr. Theodore Gugert, of the firm of Bergues and Engel. This house is still standing next to the automobile show rooms and offices on the corner of Bellevue avenue and the Pike. The big white stucco house just west of the Gugert house was originally built and occupied by Dr. Joseph Crawford Egbert, well known Wayne physician and for many years a member of the Radnor Township School Board.

Still further along the Pike to the west was the old Spread Eagle Inn, which had been purchased in the middle ’80’s by Mr. Childs in order “to sop the sale of liquor near his bailiwick”, according to report. The new owner had lent it to the Lincoln Institute for a country home for its young Indian wards who enjoyed “plenty of comforts and conveniences, and every opportunity for outdoor exercise, without being interfered with by outsiders”.

This then was the neighborhood that surrounded the Bellevue Hotel in its brief 20 years of existence before one of the most disastrous fires that Wayne has ever experienced razed it to the ground early on the morning of March 16, 1900. Large headlines in the Public Ledger of March 17 proclaimed the news:

“Bellevue at Wayne Wiped Out of Existence. Tramps Believed to be Responsible for the Blaze. Loss is $58,000; covered by Insurance–House Tops Protected by Snow against Flying Embers”.

Further simplifying the headlines is the statement that “It is believed that tramps, having made a fire in one of the large fireplaces on the first floor carelessly permitted the flames to spread. When the town watchman first saw the blaze the fire was progressing rapidly.

“Wayne is well supplied with fire apparatus, and has excellent water service. But when the firemen came to the scene it was evident the blaze was beyond control. However, heroic efforts were made to keep the flames in check and a stream of water was poured on the handsome stone stable belonging to William Wood which was but 20 to 30 feet from the hotel property. Persistent endeavor had its reward in the saving of this property and the Wood mansion nearby. The wind favored the firemen, but burning bits of wood found lodgment on the roofs a quarter of a mile away. That there was not further destruction was due to the encrusted snow that covered every house-top.”

This year was the first one in which the hotel had been closed for the winter. Mrs. A. R. Sank, the proprietor, had planned to reopen on April 1, after some alteration and improvements had been made. Her furnishings alone at the time of the fire were valued at about $8,000.

Not only was the Bellevue a popular summer hotel but for the four years preceding the fire it had been the temporary home of football teams coming to Philadelphia to meet the University of Pennsylvania players. Only the fall before the fire the Cornell and Michigan teams were housed at the Bellevue while three years before the University of Pennsylvania players had made the resort their headquarters.

–

This series on the Bellevue Hotel will conclude with personal reminiscences and anecdotes of the fire as given to your columnist by some of Wayne’s citizens who still remember it. Those who do remember it, and have not contacted Mrs. Patterson, are urged to do so by calling Wayne 4569. (The date for the fire has been definitely set as March 16, 1900, by a visit to the Newspaper Department of the Philadelphia Library where bound copies of Philadelphia newspapers are on file).

The Bellevue Hotel, part 5 (the Aztec Club meeting) – Guest John Walter,
member of Parliament and owners of the London “Times”, U.S. Grant, G. Childs

/ Emma C. Patterson

The dinner at Wayne’s Bellevue Hotel given in September, 1881, by George W. Childs in honor of the Aztec Club and his distinguished English guest, John Walter, member of Parliament and owner of the London “Times”, was indeed a banquet.

The place of each guest was designated by an envelope bearing his name and containing a list of guests as well as a card, printed in blue and gold, witth the following menu:

Raw Oysters
Green Turtle Soup
Fish
Head of Lamb, sauce with herbs
Potatoes dutchess–Cucumbers
Bouchees a la Financiere
Filet of beef with Mushrooms
Potato casserole, with peas
Entrees
Lamp chop with Sauce
Wild Fowl
Orange Ice
Lettuce and Tomato Salad
Roquefort and Neufchatel cheese
Desserts

Ice Creams   Meringue

Fruit   Coffee

This elaborate dinner was served at three in the afternoon. As it ended “the last rays of the setting sun flooded the rooms with crimson light . . . and cognac and cigars took the place of fruit and cafe noir.” General Grant, vice-president of the Aztec Club, who, according to the account of the affair as given in the “Record”, “with in the past four years has developed from the silent man into a graceful speaker of easy flow and considerable humor, seemed to enjoy his position yesterday as toastmaster.” The memorial adopted by the Aztecs in tribute to their recently deceased president, General Patterson, was read by Professor Henry Copper, secretary of the organization. A toast to Mr. Childs, host of the occasion, was heartily drunk. There were a number of speeches, among them one by General William T. Sherman, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army, who spoke in response to a toast to the Army.

General William Preston, of Kentucky, told of the advancement of civilizations in Mexico since the War, and then of the growth of the press, “the most powerful agent in carrying civilization to the western prairies.” And then, turning to Mr. Walter, he called for a speech from the “Chief Director of the mightiest press in the world, the London Times”. In replying, Mr. Walter said that it always seemed to be a matter of surprise to his fellow countrymen when an Englishman decided to visit the United States. his first reason for coming, he said, was the number of warm friends in the United States who he “was obliged to cross the ocean to see because they would not cross the ocean to see me”. His second reason was that he wished the younger members of his family who were accompanying him “to gain by their own observation the knowledge of this wonderful country that I gained five years ago”. And his final reason was to enjoy the complete rest and pleasurable vacation that only America could give him.

And then as Mr. Walter finished “the gas was lighted – and the three hours’ sitting was at an end.” When they arrived at Wayne station to catch the seven o’clock train for Philadelphia, Mr. Childs’ guests “filled two of the new Eastlake coaches reserved for them.” And thus ended “the most distinguished party ever assembled in honor of the Aztec Club”.

The first name on the original register of the old Bellevue Hotel, which is still carefully preserved by Dr. Arms, is that of U. S. Grant written in a scrawling hand that half covers the page. Many other signatures of the distinguished guests of that banquet follow. And then come page after page of names of those who were guests at the Bellevue in the years through 1884. Most of them list their home address as Philadelphia although there is an occasional New York, Camde, Riverton (N.J.,) Pottsville (Penna.), Pittsburgh, Fllushing (L. I.), Columbus (Ohio) and even England in the entries. “And maid” or “and nurse” often follows the names of the guests. One Philadelphia couple who were at the Bellevue in 1884 added to their names in the old register, “four children, 2 maids”. Summer life at the hotel must indeed have been a real family affair!

Of the man who built the Bellevue and afterwards remained its owner for several years, Mrs. Davis reminisces in a delightfully personal vein. her grandmother, Mary Berrell Field, bought the hotel from George W. Childs in 1885, enlarging it to such an extent that it accommodated some 200 guests. Mr. Childs had a leading part in the development of Wayne as it emerged from a small settlement on the old Lancaster Turnpike into a Main Line suburb. he was also “a well known Philadelphia figure”, to quote Mrs. Davis who adds:

“He was a leading philanthropist and the owner of the Philadelphia Public Ledger. When he walked down Chestnut street to his office, which he seldom did since his carriage usually met him at Broad Street Station, people recognized the small fat man with white side whiskers. . . he was a very dignified and vain man, always faultless in appearance. He had three wigs, one of which was quite short in length, the second slightly longer and the other longer yet. He wore them in this order, giving the appearance of natural hair, and when he got a ‘haircut’ he would start all over again by wearing the short wig.

“His office in the Ledger building was unique. Being a collector of after-dinner coffee cups, he had cases of them lining the walls of his private office. Mrs. Field would quite often visit him in his elegant office. After the business was over, the servant in livery would come in, go to the cupboard, put a few after dinner coffee cups on a tray and pass them to her so that she could select one.”

Of traffic on the Lancaster Pike, dotted as it then was with toll gates, Mrs. Davis says that one of the most beautiful sights was the tally-ho driven by its owner, A. J. Cassatt, at that time president of the Pennsylvania Railroad. One afternoon each week, he drove the tally-ho with is four horses from Philadelphia to the Devon Inn in Devon, at that time as fashionable a summer hotel as the Bellevue itself. The tally-ho was “a smart and glittering turnout . . . the driver with his long whip and top hat of grey felt and the ladies gaily dressed and carrying little lace carriage parasols . . . on the two back steps, on either side of the tally-ho, stood two lackies with long brass bugles. In passing the Bellevue they would always blast the bugles and the people then would wave. All along the long drive from Philadelphia to Devon the bugles would blow every so often so that the folks would know the tally-ho was passing.”

(To be concluded)

The Bellevue Hotel, part 4 (the Aztec Club meeting) – Gen. Ulysses S. Grant presides over banquet 9/14/1881, club history, Geo. W. Childs, Grant’s career

/ Emma C. Patterson

One of the most distinguished guests that Wayne has ever had was General Ulysses S. Grant, when he came here on September 14, 1881, to preside at the Aztec Club banquet, the opening function of the Bellevue Hotel after its completion by George W. Childs and A. J. Drexel in the summer of that year. General Grant was but one of the many notables assembled for that occasion, the guest list for which included not only the most distinguished military men of that era, but some of its most famous financiers and newspaper men as well.

Mr. Childs’ special personal guest was Mr. John Walter, the publisher of the London “Times”, “the recognized exponent of English opinion” to quote from an article which appeared in “The Record” on the following day.

The Aztec Club was founded in Mexico City on October 13, 1847, in the course of the United States’ war with Mexico. Its original purpose had been to give young officers a social center within their means, since living costs in Mexico City were high. Its original quarters were in the mansion on “The Street of the Silversmiths”, belonging to Senor Bocanagra, former Mexican Minister to the United States.

As the club membership grew to some 166 young army officers, Grant, then a lieutenant of 25 in General Scott’s army, spent much of his time there. The war over, the Aztec Club continued in existence for many years, with General Robert Patterson as its president from 1847 until his death in 1880.

During these years the Club made its headquarters at his home at the corner of 13th and Locust streets, in Philadelphia. An interesting old picture shown to your columnist by Dr. Arms is that of a group of members of the club assembled on the second floor porch of this stately stone mansion. The photograph is by F. Gutekunst, of 712 Arch street, Philadelphia.

This affair at the Bellevue was the first annual banquet of the Aztec Club for many years to be held anywhere but in General Patterson’s home, the latter having been “its leading spirit and binding it together from year to year by the force of his geniality and personal influence.”

With his beautiful hotel on Lancaster avenue in Wayne, completed only the summer before, it was a gracious gesture on the part of George W. Childs to offer the hospitality of the Bellevue to “a company of celebrities such as had seldom been gathered under one roof.” Besides, it provided opportunity for him to bring his distinguished English guest, Mr. Walter, “into social contact with the most distinguished of the nation’s military celebrities”.

Mr. Walter, it seems, had been visiting Mr. Childs at Long Branch until the morning of the banquet, when accompanied by his host and General Grant, he arrived in Philadelphia.

Special trains, leaving Philadelphia early on the afternoon of September 14, took Mr. Childs and his guests to Wayne station. From there they were driven in carriages to the Bellevue Hotel, where the business session of the Aztec Club was already under way, in order that club members might be ready to join other guests at the dinner, scheduled for three o’clock. In describing the scene that met the eyes of the visitor as they alighted from their carriages, the Philadelphia “Press” of the following day says:

“A more desirable site could hardly have been chosen. Finished in Queen Anne style, the broad verandas overlook many miles of fruitful valley. Flags fluttered from every window yesterday, and among foreign ensigns the British colors predominated in honor of one of the guests of the day, John Walter, member of parliament and the proprietor of the London “Times’.” The “Record” adds still further color to this picture in a description which states that “flags were flying from every peak and corner of the unique structure, while over the main entrance was a display of Mexican and American flags.”

At the business meeting of the Aztec Club which had preceded the dinner General W. S. Hancock was elected President to succeed the late General Patterson. In General Hancock’s absence on this auspicious occasion, General Grant, the vice-president, stat at the head of the table. On his right were General Hoyt and General William T. Sherman, then head of the army. On his left were General Joseph E. Johnson, of Virginia; Mr. A. J. Drexel, the Philadelphia banker; General Preston, of Kentucky, and Mr. John Walter, of London. Mr. Childs was seated by Mr. Walter.

In addition to many famous members of the Aztec Club, there were a number of celebrities among the invited guests, including George B. Roberts, president of the Pennsylvania Railroad and A. J. Cassatt, its first vice-president; Colonel A. Louden Snowden, Director of the United States Mint; Frank S. Bond, president of the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad; J. Pierpont Morgan, of New York; William Henry Hariburt, Editor of the New York “World”; Colonel W. C. Church, editor of the “Army and Navy Journal”; Joseph Patterson, president, Western National Bank of Philadelphia; Colonel A. K. McClure, editor of the “Times”; Colonel Clayton McMichael, editor of the “North American”; Charles E. Warburton, editor of the “Evening Telegraph” and Charles E. Smith, editor of “The Press.”

Never before nor since has Wayne seen such a gathering of well-known and famous men as these who gathered at the Bellevue Hotel on September 14, 1881.

(To be continued)

The Bellevue Hotel, part 3 – dress, entertainment, Little Lord Fauntleroy

/ Emma C. Patterson

The dining room of the old Bellevue Hotel, that hostelry so famous in Wayne in the last two decades of the 19th century, was a spacious room in the center of the building. Its wide doorway was at the end of the hallway that led from the main entrance, which faced on Lancaster Pike.

From its windows, looking to the East and to the West, guests could see spacious, well-kept lawns, flower gardens, shrubbery and trees. There were several good tennis courts on both sides of the building and space for that other, if less strenuous game, croquet, so popular among young and old alike at that time.

Saturday nights were gay times at the hotel, with “hops” held each week in this big dining room. These were for the “dowager mamas” who sat chatting throughout the evening as they watched the young people dance by.

These hops were mainly for the guests of the hotel, although a few cards for outsiders were issued through the office. From 8:30 until 11:30 the small orchestra played waltz and two-step music. But promptly at 11:30 the party stopped, and by 11:50 guests who were Philadelphia bound were at the railroad station to catch the last train.

Twice during the summer “Germans” were given. They were very formal affairs with the girls in their most beautiful evening dresses and the men in their “tall coats”. Favors were in the form of small silver trinkets. And since these were very special occasions, punch was always served.

The “Mikado” parties were events long to be remembered in the annals of the Bellevue. Two of Dr. Arms’ pictures show the women guests of the hotel grouped on the porch, all of them dressed in handsome figured kimonos tied around the waist with wide sashes, each with her fan and paper parasol. Their hair is dressed in true Japanese fashion and ornamented with large pins. A great deal of time and money was spent on their costumes, according to Mrs. Davis, who adds that “the women looked very beautiful”.

But the Fourth of July celebration was the really grand one of the gay summer, for which plans were made long in advance. There were many sports events for all of which prizes were given. in the morning the potato races, bicycle races, and competitive games of quoits and croquet took place. In the afternoon came the big baseball game, guests versus the waiters, always a jolly event.

At one o’clock dinner was served. Again we could wish that some of the menus might have been kept. The menu cards themselves, Mrs. Davis describes as “specially  embossed” and listing “the finest foods and delicacies”. Many guests always kept their private supplies of wine and champagne on their porches, and for this big event of the summer they drew on these supplies. For old and young alike souvenirs were provided. in the evening there was always a more than usually pretentious hop with a large orchestra to furnish the music. And last but not least, there were Fourth of July fireworks.

Part of the hotel was partitioned off in winter to keep the rest of it warmer and more cozy than it might otherwise have been. Ordinarily there were about 50 guests staying there during the cold months. one season the most distinguished early winter guest was Frances Hodgson Burnett, author of “Little Lord Fauntleroy”.

At that time she wanted to be near Philadelphia long enough to consult Dr. Solis Cohen, a famous throat specialist, before she set sail for England. However, it was a trip she was not destined to take, for Dr. Cohen advised her that Lionel, her elder son, was too ill with tuberculosis to stand the voyage. In addition to Lionel she had a younger son, Vivian, with her at the Bellevue. Vivian was the hero of “Little Lord Fauntleroy”, Mrs. Burnett’s well-known book.

While the children evidently were not in the forefront of life at the Bellevue, there were always large numbers of them there with the parents at all times. One of Dr. Arms’ pictures shows a large group of these youngsters of the 80’s or 90’s. The girls all have long straight bangs hanging almost to their eyebrows and pigtails in the back, except for two more frivolous ones whose bangs are curled, with their hair hanging loose over their shoulders. The girls and younger boys all wear long dark stockings and high buttoned shoes. The younger boys are in tight knee length trousers with jackets buttoning straight up the front to the line of their collars.

The older boys are similarly dressed except that their trousers are long tight ones. Three of the more unconventional lads have discarded their jackets and have loose low collars, in contrast to the high starched ones on many of their companions. For the most part the girls are dressed in rather shapeless plaid gingham dresses with skirts half way to their shoe tops, though a few are dressed up for the occasion in what was then known as “all over embroidery”. The nurses are in neat uniforms with white aprons. Seated among the other small girls on the lowest step of the porch is a dark haired, bright eyed youngster easily recognizable as Mrs. Davis, then small Mary Arms, who has given your columnist the material for this story of the old Bellevue Hotel.

(To be continued)

The Bellevue Hotel, part 2 – more oral history by Mrs. Davis and George Arms

/ Emma C. Patterson

Among other rooms on the main floor of the old Bellevue Hotel, in addition to those described in last week’s column, by Mrs. Davis and as shown in Dr. Arm’s sketch, was the bakery just back of the kitchen. In it were the built-in ovens and the closets which held the barrels of sugar and flour, as well as containers of fine extracts that went into the making of French pastry and macaroons for which the hotel cuisine was famous. Huge ice boxes were also back of the kitchen.

As no children were allowed in the main dining room, provision for meals for them and their nurses was made in a special dining room next to the bakery, which was known as the “Ordinary”. A play room was also provided for these younger guests on the main floor, next to the “bicycle room” which housed the two-wheeled vehicles so popular at that time. (The “safety” type was at just about this period giving some competition to the “ordinary”, the early type with the high front wheel and the small back one which to us in retrospect seems to have presented such a dangerous mode of transportation for our forebears.)

While most of the bedrooms were on the upper floors of the hotel, there were a few on the main floor along this same corridor that housed the card rooms, parlors, play room and bicycle room. Bedrooms on the second and third floor had their own porches with find views in all directions.

Strange as it may seem nowadays, none of these rooms had private baths, although each was provided with a wash stand, bowl and pitcher. On each floor were several bathrooms, which were kept locked except when a boarder asked for its use. When such a request was made, it was accompanied by a fee of 25 cents, given to the chambermaid, or by a green ticket which had previously been obtained from the hotel office. It was the duty of the chambermaid to prepare the baths and to straighten up the bathrooms afterwards.

Mrs. Davis tells an amusing story in connection with a bath taken one afternoon by “Katie”, a beautiful and vivacious girl who was summering at the Bellevue. Bathrooms were on the side of the the hotel facing the tennis courts, where in the afternoons the young men, attired in their natty white flannels, would play their matches, while the ladies would watch from under the shade of their parasols as they sat in chairs on the lawn.

On this particular afternoon when Katie’s bath was in process she did her watching through the shutters which were bowed. Finally in a most alluring voice she called “hello, hello”. That stopped the game while the players called back, “Katie, where are you?” To which Katie replied :”Green ticket!” Immediately the ladies on the lawn closed their parasols and walked away. “Could anything”, they remarked, “be more vulgar that calling from a bathroom?”

If the old Bellevue lacked the modern convenience of private baths, it far exceeded present standards in the bounty of its table, which was unsurpassed in a time that excelled in variety and quality of food. Unfortunately, none of the old menus has been preserved. They were enticing enough to keep whole families contented from June until September, while another set of boarders usually arrived in October from visits abroad, to remain there until their town houses were prepared for winter occupancy.

Among the help which was so plentiful in those days now long past was a maid named Ellen Gallagher, whom Mrs. Davis recalls vividly. The latter describes her as “a tiny creature who always dressed in a black hoop skirt with a while apron over it. She held complete control over the chambermaids and had charge of the linen rooms and the sorting of the laundered clothes of the guests. To the family she seemed part of the Bellevue, since for anyone so small to control so much, put Ellen on a pinnacle.”

Certainly entertainment was not lacking at the Bellevue in the “Gay Nineties”, though for the most part life was one of elegant leisure. “On the wide porch in the mornings the ladies would gather in their rocking chairs in special groups”, according to Mrs. Davis’ description. “Some would go for a short drive and some for a walk down the lawn to the Pike. They would then rest and come back by the summer house on the side of the drive. Luncheon was at one o’clock, and afterwards the ladies would go slowly upstairs, don their long white wrappers and settle down for a nap. The hotel would then be very still until four o’clock, with only the children and nurses around on the side lawns . . . they were never allowed on the front porch. When the carriages and horses came up for driving, the children would line up to see them off.”

“The afternoon driving was almost a ritual for the women”, Mrs. Davis continues. “The bonnet you should wear depended on which type of carriage you were driving. The lady who was the most elegant had for bonnets. One from last year was worn to drive in the Germantown, a still better one was for the Victoria driving–a little lace parasol with it. And then there was her Sunday bonnet! The lady’s daughter, aged 17, had her horse and dog cart with a footman in the rear seat. She wore out twelve long pairs of white kid gloves while driving during the summer, which her mother thought quite extravagant”.

There were many beautiful drives around Wayne then, as there are now. These afternoon drives usually started about half past four with the men often accompanying their wives. The former frequently came home from business soon after lunch in order to have their afternoon naps. Usually an hour’s time would suffice for these drives, after which the couples would return tot he hotel where they would sit quietly on the porch until dinner time. The young people mostly had their own dog carts and horses.

After dinner there were the whist games. Once a week progressive euchre parties were held when each guest paid 25 cents to pay for the three prizes that were awarded. “These parties”, Mrs. Davis writes, “were quite gay affairs for the older people”. On Wednesday evenings there was always concert music while on Sunday evenings there was hymn singing in the parlor for those who cared to come.

Most guests retired early, being in bed usually by half past ten. Before that the bell-boys would be busy answering the bells ringing in the big rack on the wall by the office. For pitchers of ice water were always in demand. And then “the night settled down”. And by eight o’clock the next morning, guests were having their breakfast so that the men of the family could catch the 8:12 Paoli Express to Philadelphia.

(To be continued)

(Mrs. Patterson would welcome any additional information her readers have about this famous old Main Line hotel. In particular she would like to hear from those who remember the fire which destroyed the hotel in January 1900, as she needs further details in regard to that.)

The Bellevue Hotel, part 1 – oral history of people who grew up there

/ Emma C. Patterson

19511012

One of the most beautiful and impressive buildings that has ever been erected in Wayne is but a legend now – the Bellevue Hotel built in the summer of 1881 by George W. Childs and A. J. Drexel.

For not quite nineteen years it stood on the high slope of ground overlooking Lancaster Pike at the intersection of what is now Bellevue avenue, its wide porches looking out on the surrounding countryside. And then on a bitter cold night in January, 1900, the hostelry, famous for two decades as the summer home of wealthy Philadelphians, burnt to the ground. It has never been rebuilt. But a few years later William W. Hearne erected his home on very nearly the same site. This is the building now occupied by the Helen Kellogg Dining Room at 125 West Lancaster avenue.

In the 1880’s and 1890’s there were several famous summer hotels along our Main Line. Among them, in addition to the Bellevue, were the Bryn Mawr Hotel, now the Baldwin School; White Hall, on old Railway avenue in Bryn Mawr; Louella Mansion on Lancaster avenue in Wayne, and the Devon Inn in Devon.

The Louella, built in 1867 by Henry J. Askin as a home for his young family, had become a summer hotel by the middle seventies, thus antedating the Bellevue by several years. But of all the hostelries none has been more famous for the aristocracy of its guests, the beauty of its surroundings and the comfort and luxury of its appointments, than the Bellevue in the brief years of its existence.

The story of summers in the old hotel has been graphically described to this columnist recently by a man and a woman who livd there as children in the decade between 1885 and 1895. They are Dr. George W. Arms, a retired Presbyterian minister now residing in Lansdowne and Mrs. Horace J. Davis, of Wallingford. They are grandchildren of Mrs. Mary Berrell Field who purchased the Bellevue from George W. Childs in 1885. With their father and mother they lived at the Inn for ten years of their childhood.

For all of those ten years small George attended Sunday School regularly at the Wayne Presbyterian Church. “Undoubtedly during that time,” he writes, “seed was sown which developed into a Presbyterian preacher of now over 45 years. Some of my playmates, if they should remember me and my name, wonder at the grace of God.” Dr. Arms also attended the public school in Wayne and remembers “the four room gray stone school that was built near the present school location”. George H. Wilson was then the principal.

Mrs. Davis and Dr. Arms tell of the Philadelphia families who would leave town early in the spring to avoid the heat of the summer and to spend a restful time at a hotel “in the country”, as they considered the present suburb. Town houses would be closed and families would “board the Main Line train for Wayne”. But before they did so, furniture was protected with linen covers, mothballs were scattered over the rugs and trunks were packed in readiness for the call of the Adams Express Company.

Once in Wayne, the took up commodious quarters in the Bellevue Hotel, which was a charming hotel built of frame, four stories high, with broad porches running across each floor. The second and third floor porches were divided by white railings, for each room had its door leading out onto a private porch.

The hotel with its large lawns was set back from the Pike. Up from the Pike was the U-shaped drive tot he front door. A small summerhouse, covered with honeysuckle, stood half way up the drive. (This small building somehow escaped the fire, and is still standing, the sole remainder of a day now long past).

On the lawn to the right of the hotel was a small stone house with high domed roof, long stained glass window on the side and porch running across the front. In it were the billiard and pool tables. At the side and rear of the hotel were the tennis courts and croquet grounds. A shaded walk with flowering bushes led down to Wayne Station. In back of the hotel was the servants’ cottage, on the lower floor of which was the laundry room where all the laundry of the hotel and of the guests was done.

By the side of the cottage was the large ice house, supplying the ice for the hotel. Every winter the ice was drawn from Martin’s Dam on long wooden sleds. Sawdust was packed in the ice house with the ice to keep it solid. After the house was filled, the doors would be locked and not opened until the following spring.

Up the broad steps and across the wide front porch was the entrance tot he Bellevue. The front hall ran back to the dining room. On one side of the hall to the left was a small library with a white mantelpiece, with a beautiful brass fire set beside it. At the end of the room were doors that opened onto the porches.

On the right side of the hall was the parlor with three wide doors opening out on the front porch. The floor was covered by a gay carpet, there was the mantel with its mirror, and at the end of the room a long wide mirror from floor to ceiling which reflected the small sofas and chairs. it was a rather severe and formal room with its piano, a few ornaments and pictures.

Down a side hallway, running the length of the house, was the card room for the men. When whist was played in the evenings never a word was spoken. Across the hall was another card room, this for the ladies.

The dining room with its windows on each side was a large and cheerful room. There the Saturday evening hops were held each week. In back of the dining room was the kitchen. One side of it was covered with high iron ranges, in front of which was the carving table with a frame over it, from which hung the carving knives. It was as long as the range. The steam table and dishes and the pantry were on the other side of the room.

So vivid was the impression made on the mind of small Mary Arms during a childhood spent at the old Bellevue Hotel that she is able to present this word picture of it now, may years later. And Dr. Arms has even drawn to scale both interior plans of the Hotel and an exterior view showing the buildings and its grounds.

To be continued

Conestoga Wagons, part 3 – classes of wagoneers, songs, Lancaster turnpike

/ Emma C. Patterson

Conestoga wagoners were a rugged lot who competed ruthlessly among themselves for the business of the road and the right-of-way. Yet the majority were honest, industrious and thrifty, loyal to the traditions of their calling. They were proud of their teams, their wagons and their work. It is said that many of them refused shelter from the weather themselves if their teams had to remain unsheltered.

Among themselves they held to a code of courtesy as evidenced by the fact that when they stopped at wagon stands on cold winter nights the younger men deferred to the older ones by giving them the best places near the fire in the “common” room. All slept on the floor on narrow mattresses of shoulder width which, with their blankets, they packed in their wagons while they were on the road. On pleasant nights they usually slept outdoors.

At the wayside hostelries the wagoners drank, sang and danced. Old Monongahela whiskey was three cents a glass, two for five, while a meal cost about twelve cents. They smoked long and somewhat rank cigars which sold four for a cent and were called “stogies” because of their popularity among Conestoga wagoners.

In the early days of the Turnpike, sharply defined lines were drawn between the various classes of wayside taverns. Those of the better class, such as the famous Spread Eagle of Strafford’s early days, were known as “Stage Stands”, those taverns patronized by wagoners and teamsters. Before the time when these hostelries of various types became frequent along the highway, travelers secured entertainment at private homes.

John Galt, an early historian, writing in 1738, tells us that in the house of the principal families in the County “unlimited hospitality formed a part of their regular economy. It was the custom of those who resided near the highways, after supper and the religious exercises of the evening, to make a large fire in the hall, and to set out a table with refreshments for such travelers as might have occasion to pass during the night. And when the families assembled in the morning, they seldom found their tables had been unvisited”. But inns soon became havens for the sojourner whether “he were farmer, drover, teamster or traveler, upon business or pleasure bent.”

Conestoga wagoners ordinarily wore plain suits of homespun wool, blue cotton shirts and broad-brimmed hats. For the most part they spurned underwear and stockings, their feet bare in their high leather boots or in their “stogy” shoes, so named for the wagons they drove. Since each teamster manned a vehicle hauling two to six ton loads, they were necessarily men of prodigious physical strength.

In “Pennsylvania Songs and Legends” the author of the chapter on “Conestoga Wagoners” writes “It is almost inconceivable that any man “for only one accompanied a wagon) could remove or replace the heavy endgate of a wagon with the rear wheels six feet high – to say nothing of loading and unloading the cumbersome barrels of merchandise.”

Among the wagoners’ feats of strength were these: lifting a hundred pound keg of nails out of the wagon by grasping the narrow edge of the keg between the fingers and thumb of one hand; unloading a six hundred pound barrel of molasses singlehanded; walking off with a half-ton of pig iron to win a wager; handling a 56-pound weight with the ease of a gymnast throwing a dumbbell; and lifting a wagon off its four wheels by lying under it and pushing upward with both hands and feet.

Some of these feats seem as fantastic in the telling and as unlikely as some of the tall tales exchanged around the blazing log fire in a wayside tavern. In addition to their story telling these wagoners were known as singers of ballads and drinking songs as they stood around the wayside barrooms.

To the accompaniment of fiddle, accordion or banjo they sang such favorites as “Little Brown Jug”, “Ach, du Lieber Augustine”, “The Arkansas Traveller”, “Turkey in the Straw” and many others.

In addition to singing their traditional ballads, wagoners made up their own songs to long familiar tunes. “Pennsylvania Songs and Legends” gives the texts of many of these new ballads, improvised from old ones, among them parodies on “Jordan Am a Hard Road to Trabbel”, “Lieber Heindrich” (Dear Henry) and “The Farmers’ Alliance”.

As these wagoners traveled beyond their native counties of York and Lancaster they swapped songs and stories with the people they met along the road, thus accumulating a vast store of folklore. Apparently no particular attempt was made to record this folklore while the original wagoners were still on the road. What has come down to us has been mostly through the memories of their sons and grandsons.

Even the original source of the name “Conestoga” is not clear, although it is supposedly the Indian equivalent of “Great Magic Land”. In a map of the lower Susquehanna valley dated 1665, there is a stream of water named “Onestoga”. There is also an early tribe of Indians designated as “Conestoga”, as well as a manor in Lancaster County. All these antedate the Conestoga wagon and the Conestoga horse which, according to tradition, were named for the section of Lancaster County where they probably originated. Even the Philadelphia – Lancaster turnpike was for a time called the Conestoga Road because it was the favored route of Conestoga freighters.

In 1792, the Philadelphia and Lancaster Turnpike Company was chartered and two years later America’s first hard-surfaced road was completed, at a cost of $465,000. The route of the Turnpike was virtually that of the old King’s Highway, which at some points it paralleled and at others it crossed. Nine toll gates were set up along the route to collect from wagons and stage-coaches a specified toll, based on the number of horses and width of tires. By 1798 a nine arch limestone span bridge was finished over Conestoga River, thus completing the last mile of the new highway.

This new road “eliminated much of the hardship of travel – and some of its color, too”, to quote from “Pennsylvania Cavalcade”. Faster travel was possible and lighter vehicles came into popularity, “foreshadowing the doom of the massive Conestoga wagon”. Then in the middle of the nineteenth century canals presented a new method of transportation, and only a little later the first railroad between Philadelphia and Lancaster was in operation. The deep resentment of the teamsters over this encroachment on their domain was expressed in bitter fights in taverns between railroad laborers and teamsters.

But eventually it became plain to even the wagoners themselves that their wagons were superseded by the canal and the railway. It was then that the merry songs of this stalwart group were changed to this last unhappy one: “Oh, it’s once I made money by driving my team, but now all is hauled on the railroad by steam. May the devil catch the man that invented the plan, for it ruined us poor wagoners and every other man”.

(Conclusion)

For her information for this series of articles your columnist is indebted to “It’s an Old Pennsylvania Custom”, by E. V. Mitchell; “Pennsylvania Songs and Legends”, edited by George Korson; “Pennsylvania Cavalcade”, a Pennsylvania writers publication, and “The Wayside Inns on the Lancaster Roadside”, by J. F. Sachse.

Conestoga Wagons, part 2 – Teamsters, King’s Highway, “There will be bells”

/ Emma C. Patterson

“I’ll be there with bells!” How many among the readers of this column know that this expression originated 200 years or more ago among the drivers of Conestoga wagons along our old Lancaster highway?

How long the narrow trail had sufficed the Indians for their travels from their inland homes to the sea before increasing traffic made better roads necessary is a matter of conjecture. It was not until 1733 that the Governor and the Provincial Council recognized a petition by the Conestoga framers for a “King’s Highway”.

Acting on the petition, the Province ordered that a dirt road thirty feet wide be laid from the courthouse in Center Square, Lancaster, “until it fell in with the high-road in the County of Chester”, and so through to the High Street Ferry on the Schuylkill.

Thus was the narrow Indian trail transformed into the dirt road that was the early predecessor of our present 61 mile highway between Philadelphia and Lancaster.

As a matter of fact, this first dirt road was little different from the Indian trail except that it was wider. As late as 1773 tree stumps remained in the road, and for a long time there were no bridges across the streams. During much of the year the road was almost impassable in places. At best, Conestoga Wagons covered only 15 or 20 miles a day.

Often when two teamsters going in opposite directions met, one had to yield the high crown of the road to the other. Sometimes it required a fist fight to settle the matter of who should do the yielding. Eventually one driver often found himself in the ditch. No one ever offered to help him unless he asked for such help. On the other hand, none ever refused to give assistance when asked for it.

Once the request for help was given, the distressed teamster withdrew his own stalled horses to have them replaced by those of the rescuer. If the later was successful, he was rewarded by the gift of the bells from the other team. The unfortunate driver lost the right to use bells until he, in turn, had rescued another team in trouble. If a teamster arrived at this journey’s end with his bells intact, it was assumed that he had had no trouble along the way. And so the saying that is still a common one today, “I’ll be there with bells on.”

Of these early bells Howard Frey, writing in “Pennsylvania Songs and Legends”, says, “Much might be said about the attractive and musical brass bells that were suspended form the iron arch over the horses’ shoulders. The bell arches were ornamented. They were covered with bearskin or some other fur, or with black and red cloth tied with dangling, fancy ribbons. Six sets of bells were usual for a six-horse team, although many teamsters used only five sets because bells on the saddle horse interfered somewhat with driving. There frequently were five bells on the lead horses, four somewhat larger bells on the middle horses, and three still larger ones on the pole horses.

“It is not known just how these bells originated. We do know, however, that the lead horse in a train of pack horses carried a bell, probably to warn approaching persons to move to the side and make way for passing on the narrow dirt paths that led through the wilderness. There is no manufacturer’s name on these bells, and it s not known whether they were American-made or imported; nor does anyone know the significance of the customary 5-4-3 arrangement. The bells of different sizes produce not only noise, but music as well, and were among the proudest possessions of the wagoners.”

Other accoutrements in which the drivers of the old Conestoga wagons took pride were the bridle rosettes, pompons, ribbons and tassels. The rosettes were usually plain brass buttons which were made of horse hair or wood dyed red or blue, and were fastened to the bridle under the rosettes. Sometimes the hair of the horses’ forelocks was plaited with red, white and blue ribbons.

A blacksnake whip was an indispensible part of every wagoner’s equipment, thick and hard at the butt and tapering tot he end, to which was attached a plaited lash. these were the work of highly skilled saddlers. The harness was always the best that could be gotten, with particularly heavy sets for the larger teams.

As they travelled through the villages and Pike towns these caravans of wagons were a never failing source of interest to the inhabitants. At the sound of the Conestoga bells they came to their doorways to watch these wagoners as they drove from their “lazy board” or walked beside their teams. one large wagon alone with its six horses, stretched to a length of 60 feet. There were days in the 1700’s and 1800’s when the sparsely settled inhabitants of what is now Wayne and its neighboring suburbs could probably see several hundreds of these wagons pass in the course of a day, along what then was King’s Highway.

Another expression in addition to “be there with bells on” that stems back from the present to those early Pennsylvania days is, “Watch your p’s and q’s”. It originated when tavern keepers made a record of charges against their customers by wiring on a slate that was kept behind the tavern bar in full view of everyone who frequented the tavern.

“When a pint of whiskey was purchased on credit”, according to Mr. Frey, “the letter P was written on the slate, and when a quart was purchased, the letter Q was recorded. Some of the heavy drinkers would sometimes have too many P’s and Q’s entered back of their names, and the proprietor reminded them that their bills were getting too high by saying “Watch your P’s and Q’s.”

Still another expression that one hears occasionally in these days, though not as frequently as the other two to which we have alluded, is “Old Stuck in the Mud.” If it did not originate with these early teamsters, at least it was an epithet with which they often jeered one another when mishaps occurred along the 30 foot wide dirt highway.

A tale is told of one Abraham Witmer who in 1788 built a wooden toll bridge at Deering’s Ford, across the Conestoga River. When some of the wagon drivers tried to evade payment of toll by fording their heavy vehicles below the span they often found themselves in trouble. Not only did they have to forfeit their bells to the passing team that happened along in time to pull them out of the river mud, but they had to listen to Witmer’s ridicule and his shouts, ‘Old Stuck in the Mud’, don’t you wish now that you had paid toll?”

Conestoga Wagons, part 1 – how built & used, wagoneers, horses

/ Emma C. Patterson

In connection with the series of articles on the old Spread Eagle Inn, which appeared in this column in the Spring of 1950, the writer told of the picturesque scene along the old Lancaster Turnpike in the 1700’s and 1800’s, when the Conestoga wagon, with its broad wheels, rolled its leisurely way along. There was also “the Troy coach, swinging upon its leather springs and drawn by four prancing horses; the stage-wagon, or ‘Dearborn’, with the farmer going to and from the city market.”

And “interspersed with these vehicles of a bygone day were the large droves of cattle being driven from the green pastures of Chester county and of Lancaster county to the seaboard. This was the traffic that once made its way through the countryside that was later to become Radnor, Wayne, Strafford and their neighboring suburbs, both to the East and to the West.”

Of all this picturesque procession of vehicles travelling along the old Lancaster Turnpike, none was as purely of Pennsylvania origin as the Conestoga wagon, originating as it did among the Dutch farmers of the Conestoga Valley in Lancaster county, where lived the last of the Conestoga Indians.

Quite as remarkable as the wagons were the horses bred to draw them. According to L. E. V. Mitchell, author of “It’s a Pennsylvania Custom”, America has developed only three or four distinct breeds of horses, among them being the Conestoga. Now extinct, its ancestry, like that of the Morgan strain, is unknown. But it was “one of the first draft horses ever bred, solid, chunky, and possessing extraordinary endurance.”

Mitchell states that it is difficult to see how a better wagon than the Conestoga could have been devised for the general purpose it was intended to serve, and did serve from about 1750 to 1850. Its great, wide-tired wheels were made to stay up on soft ground, while the entire vehicle was designed to carry loads of from four to six tons over bad roads and through steeply banked streams.

Although these wagons were not all built exactly alike, there were certain features common to all Conestoga wagons that identified them as different from other covered wagons of the period. “The white top of the typical Conestoga wagon,” according to one historian, “dipped the center and flared out over the ends like an old fashioned lady’s bonnet, stretched over a dozen hickory bows fixed in sockets. The hempen cover measured 24 feet from end to end, and at the front and rear peaks it was eleven feet from the ground. Lashed down at the sides and drawn together at the ends, it protected the contents of the wagon, which was generally loaded to the hoops, from dust and rain.”

The wagon bottom was cleverly built to dip toward the middle “in boat fashion” to prevent the load from shifting against the ends when steep grades were negotiated. “Indeed”, writes Mr. Mitchell, “a Conestoga wagon without its top rather resembled a dory on wheels.” On the left-hand side of the wagon was the “slant-lidded tool box with ornamented iron hinges.” Above this was the “lazy board”, which pulled out like a shelf from the side. On this board the driver could ride either sitting or standing. The feed box which hung across the rear end could be detached and placed on the pole for the horses to eat from when they were unhitched. And every wagon carried a water bucket and a tar bucket.

Picturesque indeed must have been these wagons as they rolled along the old highway. For those of us who must pause at any intersection for a break in the present steady stream of motor traffic along Lancaster avenue, it is interesting to envision the scene of only a little more than a hundred years ago. These slow moving Conestoga wagons, often travelling in long trains, with their big red wheels and their white tops, were often overtaken by the more speedy four horse stages. Although drawn by six strong draft horses, the loads on the wagons were usually so heavy that they necessarily travelled at a slower clip.

The nautical names, such as “inland ship”, “frigate” and eventually “prairie schooner”, had their origin in the appearance of “vast fleets of these white-tops rolling across the land”. There was indeed “something oceanic” in the spectacle. it has been estimated that some three thousand of them travelled the highway between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh in the late 1700’s and the early 1800’s. And “as many as a thousand were to be seen at one time with their boat-shaped bodies backed up along Market Street, discharging and loading cargo”.

As the Conestoga wagons passed westward through what are now our pleasant suburbs of Radnor, wayne and Strafford and our neighboring communities, they usually carried textiles, hardware and other manufactured goods for settlers as far west as Pittsburgh. For the return trip they were loaded with furs, skins and farm products for the east. The men who drove the wagons “through the valleys and over the mountains” of our state were, according to Howard Frey, writing in “Pennsylvania, Songs and Legends”, a “dashing, roistering group of young fellows who enjoyed a glamour not unlike that which in a later era surrounded cowboys in the west.”

There were two classes of these wagoners – the “regulars”, whose only occupation was hauling freight, and the “militia”, who were farmers devoting part of their time to this work. By far the majority were Pennsylvania Dutch, though there were some of English and irish descent, and even a few Negroes among them.

Proud of their teams, their wagons and their work “these hard-bitten men, travel stained and bronzed by exposure, were toughened to the point of despising comforts”, according to Mr. Frey. And although for the most part they drank hard and steadily, this seldom interfered with their duties.

Their manner of obtaining their liquor is amusingly told by Mr. Frey when he writes, “They carried gimlet bits and little brown jugs, and stole their supply of whiskey from the barrels that made up part of the cargoes. Yet, paradoxically, some of them were so religious as to refuse to move their wagons on Sunday”.

(To be continued)

Wayne’s First Baptist Church, part 8 – demolition on Conestoga Road site, re-build on Lancaster Pike west of the Trust Company as Central Baptist Church, Davis’ sons killed in Civil War named & Stilwell of WWI

/ Emma C. Patterson

The five-year-old boy standing in the doorway of his father’s hardware store on Conestoga road watched the tall bell tower of the Old Radnor Baptist Church as it came crashing down several weeks ago as part of the work of demolition of the 60-year-old edifice.

“God must be crying”, he said solemnly.

“Why?”, a bystander asked small Anthony Fillipone.

“Because they are tearing down His House”, the boy replied.

Few perhaps could express in words what Anthony had said so simply. And yet all much feel a sense of sadness at the vacant southeast corner of old Conestoga road, where it is intersected by West Wayne avenue. For 60 years one of Wayne’s largest and most stately stone churches had stood there. For 50 years before that its people had worshipped in the small building that had previously stood on this same site. Now all that remains is a great pile of stone, fallen in on the foundations of the former church. Soon even these stones will be hauled away, and the last vestige of the old Radnor Baptist Church will be wiped from the landscape.

And yet it is inevitable that this should have come to pass. The last entry in the old Church Record Book is under date of January, 1929. It is but three lines long and states simply: “After struggling along for several years now with only a handful of attendance to pay a pastor, we decided to discontinue services.”

Just a year before, the church had “received its greatest loss when two of our oldest and most loyal members answered the call of the Great Beyond”. Mrs. Sarah M. Siter was a member of the church since 1893. For many years she faithfully served as church treasurer and also on the Board of Trustees. Mrs. Mary E. Longacre, who until her death was the oldest living member of this church, died April 5th.

It was in May, 1896, only six years after the completion of their handsome new church building that a special business meeting was called “for the purpose of considering the advisability of securing a location for our Church and re-building near the center of the town”. A motion to this effect was defeated by a narrow majority of three votes.

In July, 1896, another meeting was called “by order and in behalf of the Board of Trustees.” The call to this meeting states: “The lot which we hope to procure, and which is valued at $6,000, has been offered to us for $1,500. Towards this amount, interested friends have pledged $1,000. If the Church would raise $500 we could secure the most desirable location for a church in our town.”

Again the idea of moving to a new location was rejected, this time by a slightly larger majority. Then at a meeting held early in November of 1896 at the home of one of the members a resolution was passed “to form a new Baptist Church in Wayne” and to build on a lot on Lancaster avenue, west of the Trust Company”. This is, of course, the site of the present Central Baptist Church. Those who had decided on this step asked for “the encouragement and sympathy of the entire membership of the First Church, since they believed “that the erection and maintenance of a Baptist church in a more central location would result in greatly blessing the community and the building up of the Christian life of those who hold to Baptist faith and principle.”

The tersely worded reply of those who wished to remain in the church on Conestoga road is as follows:

“We, the undersigned members of the First Baptist Church of Wayne, do agree to stay in the present church building to worship and to support it, and let those who wish to go and build a new church, go, and leave us undisturbed in the future and may God be with them.”

And so the matter was settled. Soon thereafter the Central Baptist Church was built, just west of the Wayne Title and Trust Company on a lot extending from Lancaster pike to West Wayne avenue. And for more than 30 years there were two Baptist churches in the small community of Wayne.

In view of the widespread attention entered on the demolition of the old church building, it would be interesting to know who the architect and builder were, as well as the names of the building committee and the means by which funds were raised.

But church records regarding these matters were apparently not made, or if made, were not kept in the old record book. There is, however, a record of Dedication Day of November 30, 1892, conducted by the pastor, the Rev. John Miller, when Dr. Abbott, president of the Board of Trustees “made a report of all the money and donations given in helping to pay the church debt . . . the mortgage was then burned, while the congregation joined in singing the doxology.”

Resolutions adopted on this occasion “recognize the self-sacrificing devotion and untiring energy with which our beloved Pastor, Reverend John Miller and wife, have most efficiently and successfully borne the larger share of the burden involved in the achievement in which we now rejoice.” When this writer went through the old church just before its demolition, the portraits of the Reverend and Mrs. Miller still looked down from the walls upon the deserted church which, 60 years ago, they had been instrumental in erecting. These pictures have since been placed in the rooms of the Radnor Historical Society. The big three-toned bell, presented to the church in 1890 by Mr. and Mrs. Joseph H. Childs, has been taken across Conestoga road, where it may be seen in front of the store of Louis Fillipone, new owner of the old church property. It was made by the McShane Bell Foundry of Baltimore, a firm established in 1856 and still in existence.

The old churchyard seemed very peaceful and quiet, despite the heavy traffic of Conestoga road, as the writer wandered through it on a recent afternoon. The stones bear the names of many families well-known in the annals of Wayne. The section just back of the church is the older part, while in the section beyond are the newer graves. Many of these graves were there long before 1890, when the large church replace the first small one. Deacon William Siter and his wife Emily lie side by side in one of the older lots, the former having died in 1857, the latter in 1878. There are Childs and Lewises, Pughs, Ramseys, Wilds and Rossiters, to mention but a few of the old-time family names of Wayne. A number of graves bear the G.A.R. insignia. No stone has a more touching inscription than that of “Our Sons . . . Corporal Thomas P. Davis, killed at the battle of Antietam, Sept. 17, 1862, aged 21 . . . also Sgt. Stephen S. Davis, killed at Petersburgh, Va., June 17, 1864, aged 22 years.” They were sons of Stephen and Mary Davis, early members of the church. There is also the grave of a veteran of World War I, Courtland Stilwell, of the 334th Field Artillery. It is pleasant to think that, even though the old church is but a memory, the money realized from its sale will assume perpetual care to the old graveyard.

(Conclusion)