A Portrait of Old George Town

by Grace Dunlop Peter

Next door, at Number Six Cooke Row, for a great many years, lived William A. Gordon, junior, and his family. Mr. Gordon wrote some very valuable brochures of historical interest about Georgetown and his memories of it from his childhood. This house is now the home of Mrs. Henry Latrobe Roosevelt. During World War II, this was the home of Sir John and Lady Dill, when he was here representing Great Britain on the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

At Number Seven lived the Misses Trapier—four old maids again!

J. Holdsworth Gordon, brother of William A. Gordon, built a house across the street. For him the Gordon Junior High School has been named, he having been for a long time on the board of education.

Next door to him on the east, at number 3020, is an attractive old house, and in the nineties it was filled with a family of four charming daughters. They were related to the Carters of Virginia, and so had given two of the most imposing names of that great family to two small fox-terriers that they adored, "King Carter," and "Shirley Carter." The latter had met with an accident and had to have one of his hind legs amputated, but he got about very nimbly on his other three. They always accompanied Colonel B. Lewis Blackford, the head of the house, on his trips about town. One day as he was nearing home, an old lady who walked with a cane was just about to pass him when "Shirley Carter" hopped immediately across his path; "Get out of my way, you damn tripod!" he said, in his exasperation, just escaping being tripped up. The old lady, thinking the "tripod" referred to her adjunct of a cane, was quite infuriated, even to summoning across the street a gentleman who was passing, and to wishing him to "call the Colonel out!"

A little further eastward along Stoddert (Q) Street, on the northeast corner is the house Mr. Joseph Nourse built in 1868, and where his daughter, Miss Emily Nourse, lived all her life. After her death, it was sold and somebody put two old lamp-posts at the foot of the entrance steps with gas flickering in them continuously—and now there is a story around that they were "always" there, and some foolishness about the lights "never had gone out" or "must never go out."

Across the street, where the Stoddert Apartment now is, used to be an old house, in appearance quite like the one of Judge Chapman's on Dumbarton Avenue and Congress (31st) Street, except for the long, side porches. Here lived in the seventies and eighties General Henry Hayes Lockwood and his family. His son, James Lockwood, accompanied General Greeley on his trip to the North Pole, and was lost there in the Arctic, holding the record at that time of having reached farthest North.

A block south, on the northeast corner of Greene (29th) and West (P) Streets, is where Alexander Hamilton Dodge lived, who was a partner with his brother, Francis, in the shipping business. He was the father of Colonel Harrison H. Dodge.

In the days when his children were young, he had a big Newfoundland dog which he had raised from a puppy. One rarely sees one now, as tall and as big as a half-grown calf, with a coat of wonderful black, curly hair. Such pets used to be quite popular, but only once in forty years have I run across another. The Dodge's dog was named Argus. So strong and docile was he that two children could ride him at the same time. He loved the children, took them to school, and gave them "lifts" over wet or muddy ground. Do you remember "Nana," in Peter Pan? She was a Newfoundland dog—just so she nursed her master's children. Returning from escort duty in the morning, a locked container was fastened to his collar and he would be given the word "office," which was enough. Off he'd go, proudly bearing luncheon to his master, who, in return, would send back to the family the daily mail (no postmen to deliver in those days), perfectly confident of its reaching its destination safely, as everybody knew the big dog, and also that he would resent any attempt to stop him or take things from him.

One day the cook complained to Mr. Dodge that somebody had evidently been robbing the hen's nests, as she was getting fewer eggs than usual. Mr. Dodge, going to investigate, met Argus coming down the path from the barn wagging his tail majestically, as was his wont when approaching his master. Mr. Dodge stopped and held out his hand, saying, "Argus, give me that egg," whereupon the obedient dog opened his mouth and out rolled an egg, to the great surprise of Mr. Dodge. Did he punish Argus for that? Not at all, but he told him he was sorry he was a robber and hoped he'd never have cause to scold him again. And he never did!