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Interesting Frederick, Maryland tidbits and musings .
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With St. Patrick’s Day upon us once again, I challenged myself to think of obvious, yet non-obvious, places in Frederick County that have been distinctly "Irish" since Frederick’s earliest days. Here’s where our forefathers could have “tied one on” during those colonial era pub crawls I guess. Feel free to add more! Frederick’s Patrick Street Frederick (city and county) can thank an Irishman for their existence. The founder hailed from Queen’s County in the Emerald Isle, coming to America in 1703. When Irishman Daniel Dulany laid out Frederick Town in 1745, he made provisions for two principal streets. The main north-south corridor was named Market Street as the market house and adjacent space would be located here. The main east-west corridor was called St. Patrick’s Street in honor of the founder’s Irish heritage, and this was originally intended by Dulany to be the principal street of town. Its importance would grow as it became part of the important turnpike used for transporting wheat and other products to Ellicott Mills and thus to the Port at Baltimore. It would also become part of the National Road, the first major interior road to the Ohio River Valley and would make travel better for settlers heading west, and travelers heading east. You will find early deeds of Frederick with references to St. Patrick’s Street. In some histories, it is said that Daniel Dulany named this street after a favorite cousin named Dr. Patrick Dulany, but I find this somewhat doubtful. Who names a place after a cousin, especially one that never visited Frederick Town or America for that matter? Anyway, Dr. Patrick was an alumnus of Trinity College, Dublin, and an eloquent theologian and preacher. He was a close friend to Jonathan Swift, author of “Gulliver’s Travels,” and the man that gave us the term "Liliputians." Carrollton Manor In 1723, Charles Carroll the Settler (1660-1720) had this 17,000-acre manor surveyed. It takes up a majority of the lower Frederick Valley below the City of Frederick stretching to the Potomac River. Charles Carroll emigrated from Ireland and the County Offally where his family lost much of their land and wealth in the English Civil War (1642-1651) against Great Britain. Unable to serve in local politics because he was Catholic, Carroll gained power and prestige through land acquisition. Multiple heirs would own this parcel which Carroll the Settler claimed was bought originally from the rightful owners, a subgroup of the Tusacarora Indian tribe that had previously lived here from about 1713-1723. This is why we fittingly have Tuscarora High School today in the vicinity. And ironically, the school’s colors include green. The land conveyed to Charles Carroll the Settler’s son, Charles Carroll of Annapolis (1703-1783), and finally to his son, another Charles Carroll (1737-1832), who took on the place name to differentiate himself from other Charles Carroll’s. It was this “Charles Carroll of Carrollton” who eventually signed the Declaration of Independence, and became a significant leader throughout the American Revolution. Years later, his family built St. Josephs on Carrollton Manor Church and Cemetery in close proximity to their Tuscarora manor house. One tombstone in the churchyard exclaims that it marks a mass grave of over 100 Irish Catholics who perished while constructing the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal and Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. In the early 1820’s & 1830’s the area experienced a calamitous outbreak of Asiatic Cholera which sent many of the Irish workers to their grave. The Irish were plentiful in the creation of both the C&O and B&O. Emmitsburg Speaking of Irish Catholic, you would expect some sort of Irish connection to Emmitsburg. Irish settlers were also prevalent here. Amidst the final resting place of America’s first native born saint, two national shrines and the second oldest Catholic Independent college in the country, there can be found an Irishtown Road. This leads from North Seton Avenue northward over the Mason–Dixon Line and into Pennsylvania. As for Irishtown, it apparently ceases to exist as it would have been located north of Emmitsburg, and likely the spot where a number of Irish families lived in close proximity. As the Boyle family is prevalent here, I’d bet they were one of them. Other early families included the Shields, Harrigans and Callahans. There is an Irishtown about fifteen minutes away and located just north of New Oxford (PA) so you could feed your fix there. One of the best known Irish families associated with Emmitburg in the last century is the Fitzgerald family. In the 1930’s, they opened a makeshift eatery off their farm property located on the old Gettysburg turnpike (US15). This eventually grew to be known as Fitzgerald’s Restaurant, operated by Allen and Naomi Fitzgerald until 1941. Just over 20 years later, the Fitzgerald’s middle son Donald (better known as “Mike”) and his wife Doris bought a restaurant and club south of Emmitsburg on US15. This joint was formerly known as the Casablanca and located near Franklinville (just north of Thurmont). In 1963, the couple renamed the business “Fitzgerald’s Shamrock” and it would hold the distinction of being one of the first establishments to serve cocktails in Frederick County. Five sons and four daughters grew up working here, with daughter Donna still operating the business. As the Fitzgeralds gear up once again for their 53rd rendition of the biggest day of the year (St. Patrick’s Day), they won’t have their family patriarch with them. Mike Fitzgerald passed away on February 28, 2016, but I’m sure the remarkable north county businessman will certainly be there (with family and patrons) in spirit. Mike will be attending an even greater St. Patrick’s Day party in heaven, with the patron saint himself! Erin go Bragh!
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Place names are usually derived from an aesthetic landform or geographical feature. Others can credit an early settler or outstanding citizen. Then there are the locales that have taken their nominal cue from a national icon (such as a president, politician, or war hero) or cultural identity. Lastly, some places are called by names signifying commercial traits. Here in Frederick County we can easily account for names such as Point of Rocks, Thurmont, Burkittsville, Emmitsburg, Jefferson, Garfield, New Market LeGore and Middletown. That leads us to the question of Frederick, both city and county. Why do we have this name, and who is responsible for giving it? At the same time, are there other places out there with this name? All good questions, and looking back in history, it seems that we have a fitting name for a location that has its own special international panache, charisma, rebellious spirit and moxie. However, we may also be named for a scoundrel who suffered from the newly coined ailment of “Affluenza.” It just depends upon whose judgment you trust. Get ready for a “Cliff’s Notes®” version of British royal family history in which you will meet an individual who narrowly missed his chance to make a great impression on world affairs. His grandfather, father and son were British kings, and his great-granddaughter would take the throne at age 18 and ruled for over 63 years, a period known commonly as the Victorian Era. To start the discussion, let’s look at the name meaning of Frederick found as an entry on a website called www.behindthename.com English form of a Germanic name meaning "peaceful ruler", derived from frid "peace" and ric "ruler, power.” This name has long been common in continental Germanic-speaking regions, being borne by rulers of the Holy Roman Empire, Germany, Austria, Scandinavia, and Prussia. Notables among these rulers include the 12th-century Holy Roman Emperor and crusader Frederick I Barbarossa, the 13th-century emperor and patron of the arts Frederick II, and the 18th-century Frederick II of Prussia, known as Frederick the Great. The Normans brought the name to England in the 11th century but it quickly died out. It was reintroduced by the German House of Hanover when they inherited the British throne in 1714. So what happened in 1714, and more so, what does it have to do with Frederick, Maryland? Well our storied namesake was a complex individual and lived a relatively short, and misunderstood, life. He spent 24 years as heir apparent to the British throne, but would never get his opportunity to rule. Our story can certainly pick up in 1714 with the House of Hanover, a German royal dynasty which once ruled the Duchy of Brunswick-Luneburg, the Kingdom of Hanover, the Kingdom of Great Britain, the Kingdom of Ireland, and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. It succeeded the House of Stuart as monarchs of Great Britain and Ireland in August 1714 with King George I and held that office until the death of Queen Victoria in 1901. King George I ascended to the throne after the death of Queen Anne (namesake of the Maryland Eastern Shore county bearing her name). This ruler’s reign was brief, 13 years, and trouble- filled as many English subjects thought he was too “German.” Apparently George helped support this notion by spending nearly 1/5 of his reign in his native homeland. He was eventually succeeded by equally “Deutsch” son, George II (1683-1760). King George II married Caroline of Ansbach and the couple would have eight children, with the first born holding the fore-mentioned “peaceful rule” moniker—Frederick Louis (or Lewis). Born February 1st, 1707, the namesake of Frederick, Maryland (city and county) is said to have suffered a lonely and neglected childhood. Frederick Louis’ father (King George II) had a similar upbringing, a victim of his own parents’ bitter divorce. George I is said to have been a cold individual who had several extramarital affairs. When his wife turned to “outside company” in order to fulfill her needs, George I called for the marriage to be dissolved. And that wasn’t the end of it as George II’s mother (Sophia Dorothea of Celle) truly got the raw end of the deal. Her suitor, a Swedish count, mysteriously disappeared (thought to have been tied up with stones and thrown into a river) before an elopement scheme could take place. Queen Sophia would be banished to her castle home back in Germany and held under house arrest for the rest of her life. Worst of all, George I gave strict orders that she was forbidden to see her children ever again. This likely resulted in “unresolved childhood issues” that would manifest in George II’s own ability to parent in the future. As for Frederick Louis’ mother (Queen Caroline), she lived with the pain of being orphaned at a young age and was bounced around until becoming the ward of King Frederick I and Queen Sophia Charlotte of Prussia. So it’s easy to have compassion for our namesake, he was somewhat doomed from the start. Frederick Louis was born in Hanover, Germany and was brought up there. He was seven when his grandfather (George I) took the British throne. At this time his parents moved to Great Britain, but left young Frederick back in Germany, where he was given the title of Duke of Edinburgh— becoming the second in line for “the top spot” behind his father. Sadly, Frederick Louis would not see his parents for another 14 years, at which time he was summoned to Britain to take on his new role as Prince of Wales. Throughout that 14-year duration, George I had used Frederick Louis as a pawn against his father (George II). This certainly “primed the pump” for game playing to reach new heights when the spirited 21 year-old Frederick arrived in London in 1728. One of the best descriptions of Frederick Louis comes from noted author and historian Richard Cavendish whose articles regularly appear in History Today magazine (www.historytoday.com): "Open-handed, with an easy manner, he had a certain charm and taste for sport, gambling and women, and though his command of English was uncertain and he looked like a frog, the English on the whole approved of him. The same could not be said of his own family and the hatred between the prince and his parents was a national scandal. What the root of the antipathy really was, no one has ever been able to establish, but Frederick’s father, the king, could seldom bring himself to speak to him and told people that the prince was a changeling and no true child of his. Frederick’s mother once famously described him as ‘the greatest ass and the greatest liar and the greatest canaille and the greatest beast in the whole world’, adding ‘and I heartily wish he were out of it.’ On another occasion, catching sight of the prince from a window, she said, ‘I wish the ground would open this moment and sink the monster to the lowest hole in hell.’ She and his father both preferred Frederick’s younger brother (William), a military hero and Duke of Cumberland. The prince’s demands for more money and his father’s refusal to give it him reached such a pitch that Frederick appealed against the king to parliament, unsuccessfully, for a larger allowance. He regarded his £50,000 a year (at least £3 million/year in today’s money) as miserably inadequate. One reason the prince needed plenty of money was that he ran his own rival court. His persistent political maneuvering against his father’s principal minister, Sir Robert Walpole, was a major cause of offense. When his wife, Augusta of Saxe-Gotha, was about to bear their first child in 1737, Frederick insulted his mother by making sure that she was not present at the birth. The reason she had wanted to be there was to make quite sure that the new arrival actually was Augusta’s child. She doubted very much that it could be Frederick’s and had been telling people that he was impotent." In 1745, Daniel Dulany the Elder (1685-1753) would strategically use the scorned Prince of Wales’ name for a fledgling town he intended to lay out on land recently obtained from fellow Annapolis land speculator/politician Benjamin Tasker. Dulany started his time in America as an indentured servant, but had studied law and amassed a fortune over a period of four decades. The visionary of Irish blood also held a number of colonial offices over his lifetime. Years earlier, in 1722, he had even written a pamphlet entitled The Right of the Inhabitants of Maryland, to the Benefit of the English Laws, asserting the rights of Marylander's over the Proprietary Government. In his current land speculation scheme, Dulany saw what was occurring in Pennsylvania as proprietor William Penn had experienced great success by “marketing” his Pennsylvania Province (and later Commonwealth) to Quaker and German immigrants looking for a new home in the Americas. The Germans, especially, were a hearty and frugal people bound by religion. They seemed the perfect solution for taming the “wild” interior lands, while also readily possessing high-end tradesman skills to serve their brethren. Daniel Dulany’s desire to attract Germans to settle his town (and later county) most certainly lends credence to “Frederick” being a highly attractive name choice. Prince Frederick Louis had remained a favorite among his kinsman, and in 1745 was still heir to the throne once his father passed. Dulany was in the position to have a double victory once King Frederick became a reality. Frederick Town was laid out by 1745, and this constitutes its founding date. Three years later (December 10th, 1748) Frederick County came into being and consisted of today’s Garrett, Allegany, Washington, Montgomery, and most of Carroll counties. Dulany’s planned town became the county seat and prospered tenfold, affording the opportunity for his son Daniel Dulany, the Younger to launch his political career as a representative to the General Assembly. The prominent Annapolis lawyer and land-developer was not the first, however, to use Frederick Louis’ name. A number of other “Fredericks” had their starts in the 1720s and 1730s In 1720, a new county was created in Virginia and named Spotsylvania in tribute to the royal governor Alexander Spotswood. A port town was established eight years later on the Rappahannock River and given the name Fredericksburg. In another part of Virginia, in the Shenandoah Valley, a collection of remote settlements came together in 1738 and became Frederick Town—eventually to be renamed Winchester. The county around this town would eventually take the Frederick name as well, with its first County Court session held on November 11th, 1743. Another example to add to the list is Frederick Township in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, a quiet countryside that received its official name and government in 1731. Here in Maryland, Prince Frederick became the new county seat of Calvert County in 1722 thanks to an Act of the Maryland General Assembly. Across the Chesapeake Bay and to the north, Fredericktown was laid out in Cecil County on December 11th, 1736. It was previously known as Pennington’s Point, named for the family of a noted Indian trader, Abraham Pennington. Pennington was the first permanent European settler to reside in what would become Frederick County in the vicinity of today’s Brunswick—in name, at least, representing another connection to Prince Frederick and the House of Hanover. Let’s get back to Prince Frederick Louis. What can be said of him was that he was a decent family man. He married 16 year-old Augusta of Saxe-Gotha-Altenburg and had nine children. History records that he was a much better father to his kids than his own father had been to him. Interested in the arts, Frederick collected pictures, wrote songs and poetry, played the cello well and loved music. He was also an enthusiast for hunting, shooting and fishing, and captained the Surrey cricket team for several seasons. Unfortunately the latter could have led to his demise. In 1751, Prince Frederick allegedly suffered a blow to his chest from either a cricket ball or tennis ball, causing an abscess. Although this story may be apocryphal, Frederick Louis died of pneumonia shortly thereafter on March 31, 1751. Some historians contend that this could have been a likely complication that arose from a freak injury of the sort. Sadly, Prince Frederick Louis would never claim the throne. His father died in 1760, but the heir would be George III, Frederick Louis’ eldest son. Our namesake Frederick was buried in Westminster Abbey, in the Henry VII Chapel, with a minimum of ceremony and without a single member of the royal family present. His epitaph is far better known then he is: HERE lies Fred, Who was alive and is dead. Had it been his father, I had much rather: Had it been his brother, Still better than another: Had it been his sister No one would have missed her: Had it been the whole generation, So much the better for the nation, But since ’tis only Fred, Who was alive and is dead, Why there’s no more to be said. George III would “Rule Britannia!” through the American Revolution and War of 1812 (1760-1820). It’s interesting to ponder if the king ever ran across the name of Frederick (city or county), Maryland? We gave ample opportunities with patriotic events and personages such as the 1765 Stamp Act Repudiation, support of the people of Boston during the American Revolution blockade, the Star-Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key, Thomas Johnson, Jr. (first elected Maryland governor), and John Hanson (president of Congress under the Articles of Confederation). Later on, during the American Civil War, the immortal line ‘the clustered spires of Frederick Town’ could have rolled off the lips of Prince Frederick Louis’s great-granddaughter, Queen Victoria. Thanks to John Greenleaf Whittier’s poem Barbara Frietchie, the town won international fame and made its way into British schools and back to Frederick Louis’ homeland of Germany because of the heritage of the poem's heroine. When one commonly thinks of Brunswick, Maryland today, they likely envision a peaceful town, steeped” (both literally and figuratively) in railroading history, baseball, and plenty of outdoor recreational opportunities tied to the Potomac River and adjacent C & O (Chesapeake & Ohio) Canal towpath. Today’s solitude is a deep throwback to a much earlier time in the area’s existence, before its amazing transfiguration into a bustling transportation corridor for almost 250 years. Roots stretch back to 1728, when Indian trader Abraham Pennington operated his post on a tract named “Coxson’s Rest,” near the location of today’s Lock 30 (of the canal). This was a narrow, riverfront property stretching nearly three miles along the Potomac and one mile inland. Other frontiersman and government officials simply called this place Pennington’s, as it was a lone beacon amidst a vast wilderness environ of marshy mud flats, not unlike the famed bayou country of Louisiana. In the preceding few decades, the shores from current day Brunswick to the Monocacy Aqueduct served home to settlements of the Tuscarora and Piscataway native peoples. During this habitation, earlier place names for Pennington’s vicinity were based on memorable animals-in-residence—“Eel Pot Flats” and “Buffalo Wallows.” The geographic area that would eventually become Frederick County (but not until 1748) was getting noticed by powerful land speculators from the long established southern portion of the colony. Abraham Pennington, born in Cecil County ca. 1670, had devised a water ferry at Coxson’s Rest. This would launch a long line of ferry operators, including a wealthy native southern Marylander by the name of John Hawkins, Sr. (1713-1758). Hawkin’s took the reigns from Pennington when the latter departed for Virginia, eventually dying in South Carolina in 1756. This shallow, portage spot to the Virginia colony became the “Chesapeake Bay Bridge” of its day. The importance of place was recognized by adventurous early European settlers heading south and westward as “German Crossing” and “Potomac Crossing.” In 1753, the aforementioned John Hawkins, Jr. supposedly received a grant of 3,100 acres in the southernmost eastern tip of Middletown Valley from King George II of England. Another colorful name would abound for the Brunswick area as the grant went by the name “Hawkins’ Merry Peep O’ Day.” Having nothing to do with marshmallow candy whatsoever, this land title is said to have derived from the romantic image of an early morning sunrise view looking eastward from this vantage point, with the sun gradually “peeping” over Catoctin Mountain. John Hawkins, Jr. died in 1758 and his property was conveyed to his sons. The property sifted through multiple owners, as did the popular ferry. One of the interesting owners of this period was a man named Christian Slimmer who operated from the Virginia shore on lands formerly owned by British Parliament member Charles Bennet, 3rd Earl of Tankerville (1716-1767). In 1778, Slimmer had received his license from the Virginia legislature to operate his aptly named “Tankerville Ferry” to the Maryland side. In the process, the area is said to have taken on the name of Tankerville for a duration. A 200 acre section of Hawkin’s “Merry Peep O’ Day” property would eventually wind up in the hands of Leonard Smith in 1780. Smith can be linked through his mother’s side to his namesake Leonard Calvert, first governor of the Maryland colony. He likely came to Frederick County in the 1750’s from Charles County, but was born in St. Mary’s County, Maryland in 1732. He likely was living on Carrollton Manor as his wife was related to the Carroll and Davis families. In the fall of 1774, Leonard Smith laid out “New Town” for a widow named Eleanor (Combs) Medley. Leonard Smith sold a large number of these lots the day after widow Medley died in January 1775, with the first lot going to his brother-in-law Charles Neale. “New Town” would soon wear the name of Newtown Trap, Traptown and simply Trappe because it earned the reputation of being a “very tough place,” where travelers were often waylaid and assaulted and “sometimes foully put out of the way.” In 1831-32, Newtown Trap was incorporated and received the new name of Jefferson. Not too much else is really known about Leonard Smith. He was married to Elizabeth Neale, a great-granddaughter of Captain James Neale (1615-1684) of "Wollaston Manor" (an early Maryland land grant bequeathed by the Crown in 1642). The Smith and Neale families were among Maryland’s early Catholic gentry, land were large plantation owners that utilized slave labor. Leonard Smith, like others of his pedigree, saw opportunity for investment and prestige in the fledgling Frederick County. During the American Revolution, Smith served with other “men of mark” who had come to Frederick with similar aspirations. He served on the committees of Safety and Observation for Frederick County with great patriots such as Thomas Johnson, Jr. John Hanson and Dr. Philip Thomas. Leonard’s son Captain John Smith (1754-1805) served with distinction in Maryland’s Flying Camp. In 1780 Leonard Smith now used a part of his acreage to establish the small town that eventually became known as Brunswick. By 1787, he had surveyed ninety-six lots and gave the place a new name, “Berlin.” This was most likely done to attract Germans settlers, many of which had been passing through for over five decades en route to Virginia, the Shenandoah Valley and points west such as the land destined one day to become Kentucky. Smith sold at least forty-seven of these lots before his death in 1794. His descendants eventually sold the remaining lots. Thanks to its location near the river, Berlin soon became a small trading center, boasting a flouring mill and carrying on trade with the surrounding farms in the area, not to mention Virginia neighbors across the river and the inhabitants of nearby Harpers Ferry, home to the United States Arsenal. Berlin grew large enough to warrant a post office in the year 1832. At this time, the town was christened with a new name, “Barry.” The change was made to avoid confusion with the town of Berlin found in Worcester County, just inland from Ocean City. The townspeople were not impressed and went on referring to their town as Berlin, but accepted Barry as the name for the post office. Exciting times were on the horizon because in 1834, two new travel innovations would come through town along the river’s edge. Berlin first and foremost became a bustling “canal town” as the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal connected it with Georgetown and the nation’s capital. The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad would have its rails here, but was more of a pass through than anything else. That would certainly change as the century progressed. In subsequent years, warehouses would be built and service industries catered to the canallers, meanwhile, Berlin was enduring land grabs of “right of ways” by the two transportation giants, only to be followed with skirmish raids by Confederates from across the river during the American Civil War. In fact, a wooden covered bridge across the Potomac was destroyed in 1861, just two years after its construction—quite a blow. After the Battle of Antietam, the Union Army used Berlin as a major supply depot due to its pivotal location, and was forced to construct a pontoon bridge to move troops and materials across the river into Virginia. Tensions eventually waned, and the town was eyed to play a larger role for the B&O. In 1890, the railroad decided to move its extensive freight yard operation from Martinsburg, West Virginia, to Berlin. The boomtown phenomenon took hold and a population of 300 in 1890 would soar to 2,471 in 1900, and over 5,000 inhabitants by 1910. Brunswick and its new housing sprawled over the adjacent hills (Wenner’s Hill, New York Hill, Fitzgerald’s Hill, Brick Yard Hill and Sandy Hook Hill). This time around the railroad would be more stringent than the post office. A name change was necessary to keep passengers and freight from going to the wrong Berlin, Maryland. An act of legislature on April 8, 1890 changed the town’s name yet again. This time it became Brunswick. On the bright side, the act officially incorporated the town and instituted the current mayor and city council form of government. It also established town boundaries. However, more bad news came for many citizens as the act prohibited the sale of liquor. The railroad truly shaped the town in its own image for the better part of the 20th century. This gave rise to the unofficial name of “Smoketown” for Brunswick. And from there, as they say, the rest is history. Today, Brunswick is a “Main Street Maryland” community, boasting several shops and eateries to go with its amazing transportation heritage story. A revitalized, historic downtown center and array of special events such as the annual “Railroad days” celebration beckons visitors from near and far. But what can be said of the town’s founder, Leonard Smith? He could have applied his own name, “Smithtown” to the vicinity, but he didn’t. Smith died in 1794, while his Berlin was still in its infancy. He would originally be laid to rest in Frederick City’s Jesuit Novitiate grounds. Today, an impressive monument can be found over his mortal remains in St. John’s Cemetery. Interestingly, Smith is really nothing more than a footnote today, as no statues or street names immortalize him in either Brunswick or Jefferson, the town’s he put into being. However, his children and descendants are remembered for their roles with the family’s beloved Catholic Church. Smith’s daughter Jane (1774-1841) would join Elizabeth Ann Seton’s Daughters of Charity in Emmitsburg, taking the name of Sister Mary Joanna. She is buried in the historic cemetery on the Seton Shrine grounds. Three of Leonard Smith’s sons actually sojourned to authentic bayou country—Louisiana. Following their father’s death, Charles, Benjamin and Raphael Smith went to the vicinity of Grand Coteau, St. Landry Parish (located midway between Opelousas and Lafayette, Louisiana). The brothers became large plantation owners and Charles Smith, in particular, made the greatest contribution to the area. In 1819, he donated several parcels of land to be used for a cluster of various church structures, giving shape and purpose to the little community. Out of this would come St. Charles Borromeo Church and grounds, plus generous expanses of property in 1821 that would provide pastoral settings for the Academy of the Sacred Heart and in 1837, St. Charles College (now a Jesuit seminary and retreat house). These were purposefully named in Charles honor, and so was the town as it was originally called St. Charles Town before being changed to Grand Coteau. Grand Coteau is derived from French, meaning “great hill.” I guess this opens the door for yet another possible name change for Brunswick in the future, as it is a city built upon a great hill, isn’t it? Just an idea. (AUTHOR'S NOTE: FaceBook’s “Smoketown History (Brunswick, MD)” page by Clay Thomas & Nancy Merchant Langley is a terrific site for town heritage stories, photos and reminiscing of yesteryear). Also be sure to check out the Brunswick Heritage Museum. Thanks also to Brunswick Main Street's website for a few of the vintage images.
I just enjoyed an interesting past week of reminiscing. It was 20 years ago (February 1996) that I embarked on a video documentary project focusing on the black history of Frederick County, Maryland. A little over two years later (March 1998), I found myself on a stage in San Diego, California accepting an award called the Beacon Award of Excellence, the highest honor for communications and public affairs in the Cable Television industry. It was quite a thrill, but more so, a humbling experience as this award belonged to my many "teachers" for this endeavor, along with a host of people I only knew as gravestones, sprinkled throughout the county. Their spirits were certainly guiding me. The five-hour documentary was given the title “Up From the Meadows,” a play on the opening line from John Greenleaf Whittier’s famed poem about hometown Civil War heroine Barbara Fritchie. Throughout the production process, I was able to live in the moment, as I knew that creating this long-form television program would not only educate and humble me (a white male born at the tail-end the Civil Rights Movement period) but it would shape my thinking about past events, places and persons. I went into the project with the basic black history knowledge I had carried since my childhood and early school days. There were the obvious stories of Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, George Washington Carver and Jackie Robinson. I also could make connections to my home state through legendary native Marylanders: Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, Benjamin Banneker and Thurgood Marshall. When I was 10 years old, my parents encouraged me to watch the “Roots” television miniseries, which premiered in 1977. Like countless other Americans, black or white, I became inspired toward a lifetime search to know my own ancestors. However, the greater takeaway was getting my first glimpse of a dramatization of the African slave trade and slavery in from Colonial America up through the American Civil War, and continued prejudice and segregation that would permeate society in the century to follow. It made quite an impression. From time to time, I thought about delving into a black history of Frederick, and was inadvertently pushed over the threshold by the late Dr. Len Latkovski, beloved professor of history and political science for Hood College. I had utilized Len as an on-screen commentator for an earlier Frederick City history documentary I began producing in 1993. The seasoned professor, originally from Latvia, amazed me with population statistics and anecdotes relating to Frederick County’s slave and free black populations. He also encouraged me to look at slavery through the lens of different religions and their views on slavery (particularly Catholicism, Methodism and the Society of Friends). Len made me realize that Frederick County’s past made for a unique case study of the African-American experience. Where else could you find such a great number of free and enslaved black people living in the same environs—a place bordered by the Mason-Dixon Line to our north, and the Potomac and Virginia, capital of the Confederacy to our south. And all this set in motion and dictated by the original white European cultural settlement patterns of Frederick County. I would zero in on this “border county within a border state” notion as a central tenet of this proposed “black history” documentary. My experiences with “Up From the Meadows” have been readily coming to mind over the past month. I’ve been preparing lectures and readying materials for an upcoming, multi-week class on the subject as I’m slated to teach a course (in March and April) for Frederick Community College’s Institute for Learning in Retirement (ILR) program. The students and I will view portions of the documentary, interspersed with me explaining the production process, and discussing pertinent points of subject matter. Simply put, the two-part, six session class will be “chock-full” of historic events, places and people from Frederick County’s past that have hovered “below the proverbial radar.” And for a story this rich and important, I can’t say I will be teaching alone. I will have a host of on-screen instructors helping me out, just as they had back in May 1997 with the program’s premiere on cable television. One of these “teachers” is Blanche Bourne Tyree, who holds the distinction of being the first woman from Frederick County to have earned a medical degree. She had a successful career as a pediatrician and a public health administrator for over 40 years. In retirement, she has built an impressive resume of civic involvement, including a three-year stint as co-host of “Young at Heart: Frederick County Seniors Magazine,” a program I proudly oversaw as executive producer while at GS Communications. Medicine would certainly define Blanche Bourne Tyree’s immediate family’s life. Her father was a man named Dr. Ulysses Grant Bourne, Frederick’s first black physician. Dr. U.G. Bourne hailed from Calvert County, and came to segregated Frederick in 1903, after completing his education in North Carolina at Leonard Medical College. Despite being allowed to practice at Frederick Memorial Hospital, Dr. Bourne went on to open a 15-bed hospital for blacks on West All Saints Street in 1919. This would be the first county hospital to accept patients of color. Dr. Bourne was a magnificent civic leader as well whose many accomplishments include the founding the Maryland Negro Medical Society and co-founding Frederick’s NAACP chapter. His name now adorns the Frederick County Government building formerly known as the Montevue Assisted Living Facility (located on Montevue Lane.) His other two children experienced success in the healthcare field as well. Dr. Ulysses Grant Bourne Jr. became the first black doctor to have privileges at Frederick Memorial Hospital, while daughter Gladys (Bourne) Thornton became a nurse. As snow and freezing rain fell outside, I visited Blanche at a local nursing home. The 98 year-old had been plagued by recent setbacks which precipitated this stay away from her Crestwood Village home. I thought about how surreal this must feel for her, a veteran physician and caretaker herself, now finding herself firmly in the role of patient. As I sat in awe of my beautiful friend, discussion on that morning included our past documentary and the day of our interview taping, one in which we were forced to “shoo” her late husband Chris (Tyree) out of the room we were using because he was interjecting too many comments from the “peanut gallery.” We also recalled one of the true highlights of my professional career, something that began as a simple invitation Blanche had given me. This was in the early spring of 1998, and featured a road trip to find Blanche’s father’s original homestead and farm in lower Calvert County. I did the driving and along the way, we picked up Blanche’s cousin who would help guide us to the rural vicinity of Island Creek (near Broomes Island), where Blanche’s grandfather Lewis Bourne and wife Emily raised their ten children in a small rural Black settlement in the decades immediately following the Civil War. The old family house had been boarded up for several years, slowly decaying into the surrounding landscape. I did, however, feel the importance of place here— having produced two generations of Bournes that would certainly shape Frederick into the great place we know today. With last week’s visit, I again had the opportunity to thank Blanche for her assistance and friendship over the years, but especially with this project. She is my lone, surviving on-camera commentator from the program which originally boasted 12 Frederick residents. It was moments such as the trip to Calvert County that helped give me a better understanding of black history and legacy in Maryland, and of my home county in particular. As a white male, I will never be able to fully understand, but with this priceless tutelage, I was able to position myself as a conduit, relaying experiences from residents like Blanche who truly “lived” the documentary. Dr. U.G. Bourne was the father of one of my interview subjects, and mentor to another. Lord Dunmore Nickens (1913-2013) was truly influenced by Blanche’s dad, propelling him to take the lead in civil rights activism for the better part of his 99 years. Mr. Nickens taught me a great deal as well, and shared a myriad of personal experiences, “fighting the good fight,” on tape with me. He passed away just over three years ago, but not before being honored with having a street in Frederick named after him. In 2014, a mosaic memorial mural depicting Mr. Nickens was unveiled on the side of a downtown building located at the corner of North Market and Lord Nickens streets. Another “Up From the Meadows” alum was memorialized with a decorative suspension bridge crossing Carroll Creek. William O. Lee is best remembered as a longtime educator, municipal politician and community activist. This “gentle man” in the highest regard, can be credited as being among the first people to chronicle and promote Frederick City’s black heritage, highlighted by his childhood home of the All Saints neighborhood as the central hub for black life for well over a century. He walked me all over town, working hard to make sure I had a firm understanding of Frederick’s foremost endeavors in education, business, charity and social life in the segregated black community and how barriers were finally chipped away in an effort to unite two Frederick’s into one—figuratively “bridging the town creek.” What Bill Lee taught me about the city, Kathleen Snowden of New Market taught me on the county level. The self-proclaimed “outspoken” New Market resident shared her knowledge, based on years of intensive black history research. Ms. Snowden accompanied me as travel companion on several field trips. We searched for the remaining traces of former “black sections” of leading towns (ie: Middletown, Brunswick, Libertytown) and explored “post-emancipation hamlets,” places like Sunnyside, Bartonsville, Della, Hope Hill and Coatesville. In addition, we experienced black churches together, looked for old colored schoolhouses and walked countless black burial grounds, seeing names in stone of former slaves and descendants of slaves, not to mention those of soldiers and prominent early free blacks who lead their neighbors in the long fight towards equality. Other teachers for me included 100 year-old Ardella Young of Pleasant View, Maude Morrison, Luther Holland, Arnold Delauter, Bessie Brown, Edith Jackson, Henry Brown and a lone, yet powerful white voice—Marie Anne Erickson. Marie taught me to embrace the fact that I was incapable of appreciating or fully understanding what my other subjects and the black population (past or present) had experienced over their lifetimes. I was white, and male to boot, the long dominant power combination in our country since its inception. I had not experienced struggle of any kind. Marie Erickson was born and raised in Illinois, the daughter of Swedish immigrants who immigrated to the US in 1923. She would die in 2012, but not after four decades of assisting local Frederick blacks research their roots, and gaining family connections. Marie was not only a friend to so many people of color, but became accepted as an “honorary” family member in many instances. All the while, she remained 100% genuine, not simply showboating for self-gain. Marie cared about equality and often looked for “teachable moments,” objects and opportunities in which to share illustrative “black” stories and experiences with white and black readers alike. These appeared through her countless articles and letters to the editor in Frederick newspapers and magazines. As I said earlier, using Frederick County and its past for context, serves an amazing canvas to tell this story, introducing individuals such as William Ware, Elijah Lett, Professor James Neale, Decatur Dorsey, John W. Bruner and places like Oldfields, Centerville and Halltown. Current residents such as Joy Hall Onley and members of Frederick County's AARCH group (African American Resources Culture and History) continue their amazing work of "piecing together" and preserving this rich legacy. Meanwhile, I’m happy to report that Black History Month will be extended through March and April this year for those individuals who take a two part, six class, “Up From the Meadows” course from Frederick Community College. While the course catalog says it’s my class, I think you can see that I will have plenty of help from former friends and mentors—the true legends who helped research, preserve and make Frederick County history.
For additional information, visit: http://ilratfcc.com/portfolio/up-from-the-meadows/ In last week’s blog, we talked about the forgotten Frederick “hot spot” known as Love Lane. Today, it’s commonly known as East Street. In part 2 of this “Valentine themed” Frederick history post, I want to revisit another romantic local option for couples living a century ago. This was the newly laid out Lover’s Lane, part of a larger amusement resort known as Lake View, the “lovechild” of county businessman Charles J. Ramsburg. Located six miles north of the City of Frederick, rail transportation could bring pleasure seekers to a peaceful setting that featured a casino, hotel and namesake lake. Ramsburg was a native of nearby Lewistown, having grown up on a farm originally laid out by his grandfather Jacob. In addition to the family trade of farming, Charles found success in the late 1800’s goldfish boom, and was one of the county’s largest exporters. Ramsburg was also an investor in the Westminster, Frederick and Gettysburg Railroad, which would traverse property owned by his family. He would obtain this land and concoct a scheme to cash-in on the new trolley line that would connect Frederick and Thurmont. In 1908, Charles Ramsburg merged his many fishponds together, forming a large lake in the shadow of picturesque Catoctin Mountain to the west. Now that he had an attractive setting, he looked to capitalize on the rail transportation line’s ability to deliver visitors in same manner as neighboring local mountain retreats such as Braddock Heights and Pen Mar Park. At the top of a hillside that overlooked his manmade lake, Mr. Ramsburg began construction on an elaborate amusement structure in the form of a casino. Once complete, this would be a two-story building, 116 by 90 feet, with a first class skating rink and beautiful dance hall. On the first floor were located four bowling alleys, a pool room, and cloak and toilet rooms. Guests were invited to utilize the lake for bathing, swimming and boating as row boats were made readily available. For others, a romantic stroll on Lover’s Lane took guests around the perimeter of the lake—certainly worth the trip to the new resort. One month prior to opening his casino, Mr. Ramsburg nearly experienced a disaster when his structure was struck by lightning as finishing touches were being added. A newspaper account from August 9, 1908 says that minimal damage was suffered and project workmen were “slightly stunned by the bolt.” The Lake View Casino opened in early September, 1908, and the venture seemed an instant success, prompting Mr. Ramsburg to make plans to construct a neighboring hotel. This would become a reality. Four stories in height, the hotel afforded magnificent views in all directions, made all the more accessible with a roof garden. The structure was described as “magnificent,” readily equipped with all modern conveniences and having the ability to accommodate up to hundred guests at a time. Sadly, the full potential of the site was never seen. The casino experienced a devastating fire just prior to the grand opening of the hotel in May 1910. Two explanations for the fire survive: one that a candle fell into Spanish moss causing the fire; and another points to arson. Ramsburg had grossly under-insured his building, and with the outlay for the hotel, he was not in the position to rebuild the casino. The Lake View Hotel hosted pleasure-seekers over the next four years but would suffer the same fate as the casino on June 16, 1914. Just days before opening for the summer season, the Lake View Hotel burned to the ground. This time, a faulty heating apparatus was to blame. Mr. Ramsburg should have taken that earlier lightning bolt as a bad omen. Charles Ramsburg gave up on his endeavors in the hospitality resort industry, and went back to an enterprise that was decidedly “fireproof.” In the 1920 census, his occupation is listed as that of a pisciculturist—aka fish breeder. He had returned to putting his full attention to the business of raising goldfish.
In 1916, the Maryland Conservation Commission had assessed the state for future fish hatcheries, especially with regard to trout. The following year, Lewistown was selected for the commission's first hatchery. In the process, the state would also stock Ramsburg’s Lake View lake with a supply of small-mouth bass, crappie and catfish. Lake View once again became the scene for “lovers,” but this time, it was solely of the aquatic variety. Mr. Ramsburg’s influence would also have a profound effect on the son of his next door neighbors Milton and Rosanna Powell. Their son, Albert M. Powell would develop a love of fish as well, destined to serve as the longtime Superintendent of Maryland State Fish Hatcheries. Well, we have officially navigated past Super Bowl Sunday, and it’s time once again for another fabricated, commercial-based, “pseudo holiday.” Welcome to Valentine’s Day! As opposed to the Super Bowl, Valentine’s Day certainly requires a bit more creative thought and, at times, stealth planning by participants in advance. Luckily, living here in a place like Frederick County, Maryland offers the opportunity to easily garner tangible members of the 4 major Valentine food groups: 1.) jewelry 2.) chocolate/candy 3.) flowers 4.) clothing/lingerie (of any rating) Interestingly, gifts are merely an invention of the last century, adding a new degree of stress and pressure. Now 2,000 years ago, the yearly occurrence that grew into today’s Valentine’s Day required a simpler effort by everyone involved. In ancient Rome, during the month of February, a fertility-themed feast called Lupercalia was held in honor of the wolf-god Faunus, a Roman knockoff of the rustic Greek god Pan. The names of young females were secretly placed in a box and shaken up. The young men drew a name and, voila, each obtained what we would equate to be his valentine. Five-hundred years later, the leaders of the early Christian church “muscled in,” wanting to rid the empire of pagan ritual and superstition. Males now had to draw the name of a saint, instead of that of a young maiden, and were expected to imitate the example of said saint’s life with emphasis on sacrifice and humility. The ladies then pursued the “holy portrayer” that attracted them most. So where does St. Valentine come into play? And how is he associated with love? Well, it’s a long story, but the namesake got his initial start as being one of the many saints imitated. Actually, there were several martyred Valentine’s over the years, so his name came up often! This lasted throughout the balance of the Middle Ages, and St. Valentine was still not the love-wielding “go to guy” we know him as today. This would come centuries later as many scholars give the credit to Geoffrey Chaucer (1343-1400), he of Canterbury Tales fame. The first recorded association of St. Valentine, Valentine's Day and romantic love can be found within Chaucer’s poem Parlement of Foules (1382) in which he wrote: “For this was on seynt Volantynys day Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.” I’m guessing you may have just experienced a cruel flashback to high school sophomore year English class. So I will gladly assist with the translation: "For this was on St. Valentine's Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate." This is some sweet prose, and surprisingly from the same guy who gave us our first educational foray into flatulence humor with the Miller’s Tale. Not only did Chaucer’s line above build a context between Valentine’s Day and romance, it also gave rise to the expression of “love-birds” and thus, the euphemism involving “the birds and the bees.” St. Valentine quickly became the “poster-saint’” for amour and affection, and this would directly create a greeting card industry—of course with much deserved props also going to Johannes Gutenberg as well. I journeyed back in Frederick’s past to see what the local newspapers were saying about Valentine’s Day. In the latter 19th century, I found that it was a time in which the Valentine card itself was the central focus. Some were ornate, made of fancy ribbon and lace. Others were die cut. Many ornate cards were imported from Europe. Several businesses of town carried Valentine’s cards and I assumed that this was a profitable occasion for newspaper owners as well since they had printing means to be purveyors of cards themselves, and collected increased advertising from merchants and event organizers marketing Valentine-oriented wares and activities. I was quickly taken aback, however, by the tone used by the writer of an article in the February 7, 1887 edition of the Frederick (MD) Daily News: Today, Frederick offers so many opportunities to truly experience and enjoy the Valentine occasion with significant others. A plethora of restaurants can host the traditional Valentine’s dinner. Varied entertainment venues and amusements can be enjoyed. In addition, we also have plenty of historic churches to choose from for those desiring an “old-school” experience (to study up on saints and saintly behavior.) And with the current exception of a downtown hotel and conference center, there are plenty of lodging choices (some romantic, and others simply functional) for out of town visitors. In flipping through antiquated newspapers of the early 20th century, I stumbled upon a few opportunities afforded our ancestors “back in the day,” but not available to young (and old) sweethearts in Frederick at present. One of these included the forgotten address of Frederick City's most romantic spot— Love Lane. Love Lane was a moniker given to Frederick’s East Street, and seemed to be in fashion during much of the 1800’s. I have seen it used going back to 1822, five years after the city was first incorporated. At the time, this dusty path was the eastern boundary of town, and ran between today’s South and 7th streets. The opposite of bustling Market Street, Love Lane featured beautiful vistas of rolling hills and farmland to the east, and small homes, quaint street corners, and the eventual St. John’s Cemetery, all with a splendid backdrop provided by Catoctin Mountain to the west. Beautiful sunsets and feelings of serenity must have been welcome escapes for city dwellers of all ages. A reconvening with nature here was the second best whimsical destination that Frederick could offer—the first being Mount Olivet Cemetery (opened in 1854) and located a good hike south of town. However, the latter garden-cemetery was not the ideal romantic location for a young couple’s dreamy first date or a budding relationship. All good things must come to an end, and that was the case with Love Lane. The post-Civil War period brought the Pennsylvania Railroad right down Love Lane, eventually setting the stage for industry to locate sidings adjacent its right of way. Lumberyards, foundries, the gas works and brick plants sprouted up. At least a tannery on Carroll Creek in this vicinity was owned by the fittingly named Valentine Byerly. Some couples simply ignored the progress and remained “young at heart, regardless of intrusions.” One such was Clara V. Mott who wrote a poem about Love Lane in 1909. A regular contributor to the Frederick Daily News, Mrs. Mott was known for her Moments With the Muse column. She was also a resident of East 7th Street, and on one occasion took to reminiscing about a happier time. She wrote this piece a year after the passing of her husband Albert, a former Union Civil War veteran. A century of growth has drastically changed the once paradisiacal route. Starstruck couples walked elsewhere. The memory of Love Lane would further fade with the opening of Baker Park in the late 1920’s, and a number of charming neighborhoods that soon surrounded it. Meanwhile, the early industries gave rise to 20th century giants like Frederick Iron and Steel, the Economy Silo Factory, Ox Fibre Brush and the Everedy Company. And who can forget the “loveable” Reliable Junk Company? A jaunt with one’s steady gal adjacent Shab Row and Everedy Square is far better today than it was fifty years ago. But I think it’s still a stretch to find romance while walking “hand in hand” a few blocks further north through the current assemblage of auto repair establishments, a power transformer sub-station, junk yards, 7-11, plumbing repair warehouses, etc. There is a reason why it’s back to being called East Street, and not Love Lane anymore! At least on the north-end extension (of this storied thoroughfare), recent generations of lovers could find “heartwarming delights” at the old Freeze King, while new generations can fill the latter’s void with the Family Meal Restaurant . Most importantly, love on the old lane can still be found in the form of Love and Company, a local firm that specializes in senior living marketing, for what it’s worth. Another Lovers Lane once existed in Frederick County, and I will tell you all about it in next week's edition of the HSP "Hump Day History" Blog entitled: Frederick and Valentine’s Day—Part 2: A hunk of “Burning” Love. Last week, my family and I took the opportunity to eat lunch with friends in Downtown Frederick on a weekday. It was the grand finale of the string of school “snow days” made possible by the incomparable superstorm Jonas. We chose to dine at Brewer’s Alley, a restaurant living within a structure steeped in Frederick history and heritage. From the menu, one can note that the ownership takes pride in promoting the establishment’s standing as Frederick County’s First Brewpub (established in 1996). This tid-bit will likely be noted by future historians a century from now, I’m sure. The popular “eatery/watering hole” is currently undergoing a major renovation project which will expand the kitchen, and downstair's main dining rooms. Interestingly, this building, and the property it sits on, is no stranger to “makeovers.” It has experienced plenty of them over the past 250 years. And those who know me, certainly can acknowledge that I’m no stranger to the story of this place—one that dates back to the Colonial Period. The early residents of “Frederick-Town” held a lottery to raise money to build a town hall and market house on this location. Completed in 1769, this structure served its purpose for well over 100 years and would stand witness to a rapidly growing city around its foundation. A century later, the Market House was the site where town leaders scrambled to come up with a plan (and money) to keep Confederate Gen. Jubal Early and his Rebel Army from doing harm to their city after levying a hefty ransom of $200,000 (July, 1864). Less than a decade later, the old Market House was demolished to make room for the current building, a much more spacious home for municipal quarters on the upper floors and upgraded “butcher stalls” remaining on the ground floor. Construction began on the new Frederick City Hall in 1873, with plans for a unique element to be added towards the rear—a large multi-purpose room that could accommodate meeting, exhibition space and best of all, entertainment programs. Now back to our family lunch experience last week. Almost on cue, one of my sons took pride in telling the rest of our table what happened that night. He recanted that the legendary Frederick Douglass actually ate here. Well, he was half right. I don’t know about the dining accusation, but the renowned orator and former editor of The North Star anti-slavery newspaper presented his “Self-made Men” lecture in this building on the evening of Sunday, April 8, 1879. The Frederick Examiner newspaper heralded Mr. Douglass’ appearance and performance, describing the guest speaker as having: “...a very attractive, musical voice of great compass, a fine and commanding and prepossessing appearance, easy and graceful delivery, and a faculty of commanding the profoundest attention from his hearers.” Since the day I first found this dusty news article, years ago, I have always been impressed with the reporter’s strong character assessment toward the end of the piece: “It was a single phenomenon that one, born and raised a slave in our own State, could by his indomitable will and earnest labor have so educated himself as to be received as a public instructor by all classes.” I find it fascinating to think about the life experience of Frederick Douglass (1818-1895), one that began on Maryland’s Eastern Shore in bondage, and ended with overwhelming reverence and international super-stardom. Just 20 years prior to Douglass taking the stage in Frederick on that April night, another legendary freedom fighter, well-known to the speaker, went to nearby Harpers Ferry and began the war that ended slavery (1859). This was John Brown, and Douglass was well aware of his ill-fated plot since the get-go. Frederick County boasted Unionists and Southern Sympathizers along with a population of both free and enslaved Blacks, a rare combination found in few places in the country. Soldiers of both armies marched by the former Market House site, eventually taking each other’s lives on nearby battlefields. Mr. Douglass was truly a remarkable figure in forging the history of our nation. But there’s at least one thing he didn’t do—and that‘s eat at Brewer’s Alley —a location that could be argued the virtual “North Star” of Frederick by residents and tourists alike. (Note: For more on Douglass’ “Self-made Men” speech, follow the links below.)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-Made_Men https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfgzUE3Okww With Arctic-like temperatures last week, followed by nearly three feet of snow received over the weekend, it’s safe to assume that most of us are desperately wishing for summer, and warmer surroundings. I, myself, have fixed thoughts on the beach, and I’m sure I’m not alone here. I know it’s not the right season, but at one time, long ago, Frederick residents didn’t have to travel far to reach the shore. A place called Monocacy Beach was their proverbial “oyster.” Each of us “beachcombers” may have a different sandy setting in mind. For most people, Ocean City probably is their first choice. To me, it’s the Delaware beaches (Fenwick, Dewey, Rehoboth and you can throw Bethany and Lewes in there as well). Others may think of the Jersey Shore, Virginia Beach or the Outer Banks of North Carolina or Myrtle Beach. And of course, there are the legendary beaches that can be experienced as we speak, both coasts of Florida and tropical paradises found throughout the Caribbean. When looking back 100 years ago, the options were a bit different as travel made treks much more difficult, especially to the shores of Delmarva. Atlantic City reigned supreme, and Virginia Beach was another storied destination. But for most folks, going to the beach actually meant going to the Chesapeake Bay, not the Atlantic Ocean. The ocean vacation would not gain great popularity in our area until the post-World War II “beach boom” and completion of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (in the early 1950’s). After an earlier war, the “Civil” one, people began to look for recreation amidst the fresh breezes and salt waters of the Chesapeake Bay. Resorts began to spring up in the decades to follow, catering to people of the state’s Western Shore—particularly Baltimore and Washington, DC. These would become economic and promotional tools of railroads and steam boat lines, the two best transportation means of the day. Day trip and long term excursionists could not resist the temptation. I first became interested in these bayside recreation/amusement resorts when my brother moved to Chesapeake Beach (Calvert County) in the 1990’s. Chesapeake Beach was the byproduct of a short railway built from the nation’s capital, and boasted a hotel with slot machines and a fine amusement park. I also read about other offerings such as North Point, Gibson Island and Highland Beach (for the segregated Black population), and others across the Bay and serviced by steamers: Rock Hall, Betterton Beach and Tolchester Beach near Chestertown. Chesapeake Beach’s population reached the 10,000’s during the heyday of the 1920’s before a devastating fire torched the hotel, coupled with the nation’s economic downturn courtesy of the 1929 stock market crash and Great Depression to follow. Back in 1999, I found myself on a boat in the lower Potomac River, just south of Mt. Vernon. I was performing film work of capturing scenes of nearby Piscataway Park (NPS) for a documentary on the early Piscataway Indian tribe that once inhabited the area. This is the land of today’s Southern Maryland (primarily Charles County). My friend Bill, captain of the boat, pointed out to me the desolate remains of Marshall Hall, a one-time riverside beach/amusement resort that once catered to nearby Washington DC’s population. It would have origins dating back to 1868. A small amusement park lasted decades and was supplanted with a larger, more modern park in the late 1960’s The operation lasted until 1980, at which time the land came under the ownership of the National Park Service and was dismantled. One day, while skipping through microfilm of Frederick newspapers, I landed on an interesting item in the Frederick News from June, 1924. It was a story announcing a new recreational bathing opportunity for residents—Monocacy Beach. This attraction was located near Monocacy Junction, and officially opened almost exactly 60 years after the critical “Battle that Saved Washington” took place. Billed as “a first class bathing beach,” it was constructed near the vehicular bridge across the namesake waterway, along the Georgetown Pike (MD355). Monocacy Beach could accommodate nearly 1,000 persons at a time. Once complete, Monocacy Beach would boast a bathing house, picnic grove, parasoled island, diving pier and special self-teaching (swimming) swings. Open from 1pm until 10:30pm, bus and train transportation from Frederick would bring patrons to the resort for both day and night swimming, the latter courtesy of installed electrical lights. The idea was the brainchild of a 37 year-old New York native, Edward Dietz. He was said to be a relative newcomer to town who conducted a Community Window Cleaning and Decorating Company, a service utilized by many of Frederick City’s downtown merchants. Dietz appears to be living in Hagerstown in the 1920 census and in 1922-23 had been conducting a like business there. After it’s July 4th, 1924 Grand Opening, I read mentions of many local civic and fraternal groups heading to the new beach for outings, while advertisements announced special entertainment such as concerts. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find out much more about the Monocacy Beach resort operation after that opening summer of 1924. I found Mr. Dietz living in Hagerstown as late as 1929, listed in a city directory as a window cleaner. He appears in the 1930 census the next year in Winchester, VA. It can only be assumed that his time in the "beach resort" business was shortlived—likely lasting just that first summer. Perhaps interest in the business waned, investors pulled out, or the following winter season came with a destructive force courtesy of Mother Nature in the form of a devastating flood or worse yet, a crippling three-foot blizzard. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it? Life's a beach!
The other morning I had to drop my stepson Jack at Reagan National Airport. He was heading to sunny Orlando, along with classmates in the Thomas Johnson High School marching band, to perform at Disney World and have a great week of meeting and learning from other bands and students. I couldn’t just make the trip down to DC and come back home without a side trip, especially due to the fact that it was a Sunday morning—a rare and unfettered opportunity to take in one of the many attractions that our nation’s capital affords. I decided to take a detour from the George Washington Parkway and drive into the District via Memorial Bridge. I drove around the National Mall and contemplated an ultra-quick museum visit to one of the Smithsonians, or perhaps perform some quick research at the National Archives, but decided I didn’t have that much time available since I had people coming to my house that afternoon for a “get together.” I eventually opted to visit an “old friend,” one whom I have diligently studied, and gotten close to, for nearly 10 years—Mary S. Quantrill. I know the name may not necessarily “roll off the tongue” or ring a bell, but for lifelong Frederick residents and Civil War wonks it should. Instead, this woman was denied her place in the pantheon of American history. Born Mary Sands in Hagerstown in 1823, my subject grew up on Frederick's West Patrick Street, married and would eventually serve as a schoolteacher of girls in the location of her childhood home (220 W. Patrick). Mary’s husband, Archibald Quantrill, was the son of a War of 1812 officer, and spent most of his life in Washington, DC, where he worked as a newspaper typesetter. At the outbreak of the Civil War, Archibald thought it best that Mary and young children reside in Frederick with Mary’s elderly mother, as Washington could be a prime target for Confederate attacks. Mr. Quantrill was proven wrong in early September, 1862, when Frederick was the first, major "Northern" town Gen. Robert E. Lee would bring his C.S.A. army after crossing the Potomac River. Many know the story that the Confederates were basically given a cold reception, save for a smattering of Southern-leaning residents. Not getting the assistance he had hoped for, Gen. Lee headed west toward South Mountain, utilizing the National Pike to transport his vast army. West Patrick Street was part of this great road, and Mary Quantrill would have a front row seat for the "Rebel Parade" out of town which began in the early morning hours of September 10. She even had her Union flag in hand to send off the Rebel horde. Mary Quantrill made a lot of noise that day, and was certainly noticed by soldiers, officers and a number of Patrick Street residents. However she didn’t make a name for herself—or should I say, she didn’t get help from a Georgetown novelist (E.D.E.N Southworth) or Quaker poet from Massachusetts (John Greenleaf Whittier). In late summer of 1863, these literary luminaries had an Abolitionist agenda to tend to, and fast-tracked a work of prose that featured Mary’s feisty neighbor—a nonagenarian who lived a football field’s length down the street. The name of Barbara Fritchie (or Frietchie) rang true as not only Frederick’s heroine, but that of a nation, or at least the part of it that was intact as the Union at that time. Dame Fritchie didn't live long enough to enjoy her fame, as she died at age 96, 11 months before the poem was published in October, 1863. On the other hand, Mary Quantrill lived for another 17 years, and found it difficult to escape the praise and adoration her former neighbor received for "starring" in the poem, and doing what she, herself, had done in displaying true courage and devotion to her Union cause in a daring act of West Patrick Street flag-waving. Amazingly, no one saw Barbara harass the Confederates on that fateful day. I could go on with this subject, as Mary certainly holds a place in my heart of hearts as the brave and brash woman who would never see her day in the limelight, not to mention the history books. Instead she was scorned for attempting to "hone-in" on Barbara’s fame. She died in 1879, and I have surmised it was a broken heart. The actual cause on the death certificate is cardiac disease, endocarditis...so close enough. You can learn more with these two links that feature my former writings on the subject, The Journal of the Historical Society of Frederick County (Fall 2008) and Maryland’s Heart of the Civil War: A Collection of Commentaries: http://www.historysharkproductions.com/past-projects.html http://browndigital.bpc.com/publication/?i=251369&p=106 Mary’s final resting is Glenwood Cemetery in NE Washington, DC, off Lincoln Ave. You will have trouble finding her, as she is buried in an unmarked grave. As a matter of fact, all the Quantrill’s are unmarked, except a daughter Virginia Quantrill Brown, who participated in the underplayed flag waving incident of 1862 on Mary’s front porch. I deduct that the name of Quantrill was Mud (or Mudd) for a couple of reasons. A cousin through marriage was the first to mess things up—this was William Clarke Quantrill, he of Quantrill’s Raiders fame. The second strike against Mary was an 1869 letter to the editor in which Mary gave a detailed first person account of her flag waving experience. This is when the major backlash started as many perceived Mary to be a “Pretender” trying to steal the limelight from Barbara Fritchie, one our “greatest American heroes.” Last Sunday morning, as I drove through the front iron gates of Glenwood, snow flurries began falling. From memory, I knew exactly where the lonely Quantrill grave plot was located. I parked, and walked over to the hallowed ground. I immediately felt pity for Mary all over again. As I stood there, I felt inclined, however, to tell Mary a bit of good news since last I had visited her. Thanks to some grant money, and a generous contribution from a local financial planner (Scott McCaskill) with help from the Frederick Woman's Civic Club, there is now an interpretive wayside marker in front of her old house (220 W. Patrick St. As I turned to walk away, I could have sworn I heard a faint woman’s voice say, “That’s great "history boy," now work on getting me a tombstone."
I consulted a former published work by my friend, and history mentor, John Ashbury for topic inspiration this week--"And all our yesterdays, a chronicle of Frederick County, Maryland.” John’s book, published in 1997, is centered on the premise of tying history to actual dates, a beautiful art form unto itself for us “history geeks.” The author painstakingly spent years combing through thousands of microfilmed, local newspapers in his research effort to produce a daily chronicle—one that calls out important and noteworthy Frederick County-related events and personalities. Best of all, these are tied to all 365 days of the year as the book can be used in the same vein as that novelty mini tear-off calendar you probably received over the holidays….and equally entertaining I promise! I find myself utilizing John’s book religiously “time and time again,” (please pardon the unintentional pun) and it occupies a place of honor in my vast collection of historical and archival research resources. So when I looked up today’s date of January 13, I found a reference to one of Frederick’s earliest newspaper publications with a very familiar “Frederick” moniker attached to it. John’s book tells us: “January 13, 1798—The first issue of “The Key,” was published by Dr. John D. Cary, who named the newspaper in honor of John Ross Key. It lasted but three years.” Not that other tidbits on this date of “January 13” were lesser in importance (ie: the death of Hood College foundress Margaret S. Hood (1913), the incorporation of Emmitsburg by an Act of the General Assembly (1825), and the retirement of beloved WFMD radio personality Happy Johnny Zufall (1971)), but this passage resonated with me immediately. The Key, as I have understood, was styled as somewhat of a “poor man’s” Poor Richard’s Almanac, sharing wit and wisdom, political views, and the price of flour, along with serving as a vehicle for local advertisers of course! I have not been successful in finding the relationship between publisher John Cary and the supposed namesake Key family. However, John Ross Key was a leading individual in the community, local Revolutionary War officer and Frederick County court justice. His son Francis Scott Key was attending to studies at St. John’s College in Annapolis at this time, long before his patriotic “flag-spotting” days. Ironically, one month ago, in mid-December, I found myself engrossed in a Frederick history conversation about John Cary and his fabled newspaper. I had been invited to lunch by an old friend, who not only has family roots reaching back to Frederick’s founders, she also owns a rare, bound volume of The Key amongst her rich collection of Frederick artifacts and memorabilia. It was on this day that I found myself given the opportunity to hold Cary’s 218 year-old newspaper in my own hands and reading the actual antiquated pages with my own eyes. It was quite a thrill as I had just talked about Cary and his publication last fall during a lecture for my Frederick County Explorations class (Frederick Community College’s Institute for Learning in Retirement program). Unfortunately, there still seems to be a shroud of mystery surrounding the age-old factoid that appears about Cary and The Key in John Ashbury’s book, along with the same scant mention in numerous other Frederick histories and newspaper articles over the last 150 years. So I went “in search of” John Cary with some home-based book and internet research. I was already armed with knowledge that there was a connection between the Cary family and Frederick’s St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church, something I will cover momentarily. In looking at John Cary’s ancestry, I was fascinated to find that he was the great-grandson of Frederick County’s most celebrated female pioneer and early landowner, Susanna Asfordby Beatty. Susanna Beatty came down from Kingston, Ulster County, New York around 1732, an aged widow accompanied by 8 of her 10 adult children and their families. She acquired a few thousand acres of land from Frederick’s founder Daniel Dulany, and owned much of the vicinity south of today’s Walkersville, stretching from the Monocacy River to Mt. Pleasant. You may recognize the family name as it adorns Frederick’s oldest “still-standing” dwelling, the Beatty-Cramer house on MD26 just east of Ceresville at Israel’s Creek. One of Susanna’s sons was Thomas Beatty, Chief Justice of the 1765 Frederick County Court that gave us the legendary Stamp Act Repudiation of 1765 (recently commemorated locally in honor of its 250th anniversary). Susanna also gave us William Beatty, John Cary’s maternal grandfather. William would acquire the “home plantation” (today’s Glade Valley Farms) upon his mother’s death in 1745. William’s daughter Mary would be raised here, and would eventually wed an Irish merchant (possibly a printer and/or physician) by the name of John Cary (1717-1777). Our subject, John Dow Cary, would come from this union, and was likely the oldest child among a number of siblings, many of which would eventually head to Ohio around 1830. The elder John Cary had a major role in providing property for the first Catholic Church in Frederick County. He owned several small parcels in Frederick dating back to the 1750’s, but donated lots 97, 98, and 99 in October, 1765 for the measly sum of five shillings, having paid fifty times that amount just a few years prior. The lots were on the north side of East 2nd Street, directly across the street from present St. John the Evangelist Church (not constructed until 1833). A small brick building on the former Cary property, two stories in height, would begin serving the Catholic community under the leadership of Father John Williams. This humble building would continue to do so until Rev. John Dubois would began building his Church of Saint John in the year 1800. This impressive structure would be located on the same cluster of former Cary properties on the north side of East Second Street, specifically on the corner lot that aligns today’s aptly named Chapel Alley. In 1834, DuBois’s church would be entombed within the Jesuit Novitiate that stretched nearly the entire block. The younger John Cary is said to have been born in Frederick County and was a physician as well. Like his father, we know with confidence that this John Cary of Frederick Town would serve as a printer/publisher. He began helping John Winter with his newspaper weekly Rights of Man which had a run from 1794-1800, and was printed in a shop on West Patrick street across from Mrs. Kimboll’s Tavern. He would begin publishing The Key in 1798 and would continue through 1800. It has also been recorded that Cary had a business relationship with Mathias Bartgis, the German immigrant who gave Frederick the Maryland Chronicle, it’s first English language newspaper, originally established in January, 1786. The younger John Cary is said to have been born in Frederick County and was a physician as well. Like his father, we know with confidence that this John Cary of Frederick Town would serve as a printer/publisher. He began helping John Winter with his newspaper weekly Rights of Man which had a run from 1794-1800, and was printed in a shop on West Patrick street across from Mrs. Kimboll’s Tavern. He would begin publishing The Key in 1798 and would continue through 1800. It has also been recorded that Cary had a business relationship with Mathias Bartgis, the German immigrant who gave Frederick the Maryland Chronicle, it’s first English language newspaper, originally established in January, 1786. I found a reference to John D. Cary in Edward Papenfuse’s “A Biographical Dictionary of the Maryland Legislature 1635-1789” (Volume 426, Page 202-203). Not a resounding character sketch, but it states that Cary was married and possibly had a son, but names remain unknown. Cary is noted for his participation in the Revolutionary War, serving as a sergeant with the Maryland Militia in 1777, an ensign with the Second Maryland Regiment in 1781 and achieved the rank of 2nd lieutenant in 1781. He resigned his commission in April 1783 and promptly represented Frederick County in the Lower House of Maryland’s General Assembly in 1784 and 1785. His recorded occupations include physician and planter. Papenfuse’s biography points out the fact that John Cary grew significantly in wealth between the time of his first election to his death. LAND AT FIRST ELECTION: 1 lot in Frederick Town, Frederick County; a house in Baltimore Town, Baltimore County (from his father's will). SIGNIFICANT CHANGES IN LAND BETWEEN FIRST ELECTION AND DEATH: acquired at least 1,665 acres in Maryland and Virginia; he and his brothers deeded their interest in their father's estate in trust to George French and Jacob Young, on Aug. 8, 1791, and then Cary sought relief as an insolvent debtor from the Assembly, which was granted on Dec. 30, 1791. WEALTH AT DEATH. Had received a warrant for 200 acres of federal land to which he was entitled for his service as a lieutenant in the Continental Army. John D. Cary ceased publishing in 1800, the same year he received his “bounty lands” for military service. Perhaps he sold them and retired on his profit margin? John P. Thomson would pick up where Cary left off with the introduction of Frederick’s new newspaper in 1802, under the name of The Frederick Town Herald. John Cary died just a few years later on October 12, 1804 in Frederick (as was reported in a Hagerstown newspaper five days later). I have, however, uncovered the “key” to a new irony and hidden connection through researching and writing this blog. It is one between our main subject, John D. Cary, and the man who gave me the impetus for it, author-historian John W. Ashbury. The fact that both men are named John is just the tip of the iceberg. John Cary was an early newspaper man having familial connections to Glade Valley and the Walkersville area, not to mention a father who helped foster religion in our community. On the other hand, John Ashbury has been a lifelong newspaper columnist for several publications which include the Frederick News-Post, Baltimore Sun and the Glade Times and Mountain Mirror, with the latter serving his long-time former home of Walkersville and surrounding Glade Valley. We know that the Cary’s had a religious tie in to Frederick, what about John Ashbury? Well, John came to Frederick in 1952, when his father (Maurice Ashbury) became rector of All Saints Episcopal Church, a structure built in 1855 and located on West Church Street. Most interesting of all, the property this stately church sits on today was the original Frederick Town Lot #70—first owned by John Cary’s father, John Cary Sr. |
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