Waterford Foundation

history

The Telltale Nail: A Closer Look at the Second Street School

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By Debbie Robison and John Souders

The simple one-room building on Second Street is the iconic symbol of Waterford’s rich African-American past. Black History Month is an opportunity to retell its story in light of intriguing recent discoveries.

Second Street School, 1920

For Waterford’s Black community, both free and enslaved, the prospect of education was one of the most prized results of the bloody Civil War; it was also a goal long supported by the local Quakers. Within months of Appomattox, 28-year-old Sarah Ann Steer had begun teaching under the auspices of her fellow Quakers in Philadelphia, where she had received training.[i] In September 1865 young Marie Matthews noted in her diary a trip in from her nearby farm to see “the Colored school held in Waterford.” She was favorably impressed.[ii]

Her reaction was far from typical in postwar Loudoun County, where former secessionists greatly outnumbered the Unionists who predominated in Waterford. The following January, a day after occupying Union forces had been shifted from Loudoun to Harpers Ferry, a minister from the Northern branch of the Methodist church was waylaid on his way from Leesburg to Waterford to preach. Three men in Confederate uniform put a pistol to his breast, saying “the damned Yankees have left now and you shall leave too.” The local agent of the federal Freedmen’s Bureau reported from Leesburg that in the absence of soldiers “it is the sheerest folly to keep an officer of the Bureau on duty here.”[iii]

Miss Steer was undeterred by such episodes. By July 1866 she was able to report to her school’s Quaker benefactors that “I have on my list 46 scholars all of them attend when they can, of the number 25 or 28 always present. They are mostly small children who can be spared from home. The larger Boys and Girls and Adults are obliged to work most of the time for their support and come to school when they have a leisure day or afternoon.” [iv]

Local historians have long supposed that Sarah Ann was teaching from her house—her family was then renting the Mahlon Schooley House (15555) on Second Street.[v] She regularly complained of the limited space available. A closer look at Freedmen’s Bureau records and Quaker correspondence, however, indicates that within a year she had begun to rent a small building from her cousin William B. Steer, a well-off elder of Fairfax Meeting.  He had purchased Dr. Charles Edwards’ old house (15545 Butchers Row) in June 1866 and on the property, according to insurance records, was a one-story brick structure—possibly the doctor’s office—measuring 16 feet square.[vi] The size closely matches the Freedmen’s agent’s description of Sarah Ann’s classroom as of May 1867: “. . . there are now attending Miss Steer’s school about 25 Scholars all that there are accommodations for as the school is taught in a room not more than 14 feet square.”[vii]

By then the Freedmen’s Bureau was paying William Steer the monthly rent—$2.10—while the Association of Friends of Philadelphia continued to pay Sarah Ann’s salary.[viii]

The local Black community, meanwhile, had taken an active role in their education. In July 1866 “the Colored People of Waterford” purchased for $75 a vacant lot on Second Street from Quaker wheelwright Reuben E. Schooley and his wife Louisa (Lucy).[ix] They aimed to put up their own building to serve as both a school and church. They had selected five men to serve as trustees: Jonathan Cannady (Kennedy), Matthew Harvey, Alfred Craven, Henson Young and Daniel Webster Minor. “Web” Minor could read and write, but most of the others were probably illiterate. Craven and Young had been born into slavery.[x]

Money for the new building was, of course, an issue, even as construction began in early 1867. The Quakers appear to have chipped in, and the local Freedmen’s agent appealed to his superiors in May for $250 to complete the work.[xi] “. . . when the new house is complete [it] will seat and accommodate about 65 or 70 scholars, it will be filled to its fullest capacity, many can not now be admitted [in the rented space] for the want of room.”[xii] By then the building was already “under roof,” according to the trustees’ application to Waterford’s insurance company for coverage. The structure was “Made of wood and new, 24 by 30 feet with one brick flue when completed. One or two stoves.”[xiii]

The new building was still not ready for occupancy when Sarah Ann reopened school in November 1867, in the crowded rented room. But, she reported, during the summer break “the colored people [had] set themselves to work in good earnest to finish the house which is to serve the double purpose of a school-room and church. They had it plastered, the entire expense of which was borne by one man. They then had a church festival, the proceeds of which they devoted to putting in seats and a desk for me.”[xiv]

The style of the Second Street School doors, and the through tenons used in constructing the doors, suggests that the door was manufactured sometime around the late-19th century. Photo by Debbie Robison

Curiously, in June the Freedmen’s Bureau had paid local White carpenter Charles Fenton Myers $100 for “service rendered in repairing [the] School house at Waterford.” The job had taken two carpenters 20 days to complete. “Repairing” on that scale seems an unlikely activity on a building still under construction. Perhaps the term was a bureaucratic fudge deemed more likely to elicit reimbursement from headquarters.[xv]

By the end of 1868, despite setbacks and delays, the students and Sarah Ann had settled into their new building. A visitor forwarded a glowing report to the Freedmen’s Bureau:

“. . . I came to Waterford where I remained over night & half a day visiting the colored people and their school and have the [honor?] and pleasure of submitting the following with reference thereto. There are about Thirty-five (35) families of (col’d) people in and about this village almost all of whom are said to be industrious and worthy people. Their advantages in this community are very much greater than in any other visited by me so far in the counties of Fairfax & Loudoun. Almost the entire white population being wealthy Quakers who interest themselves in the welfare of all the people without regard to race. The Teacher of the (col’d) school now in operation at this place is Sarah Steer she has enrolled about (30) pupills but a smaller [number?] in attendance. The salary of the Teacher is $35.00 per month Paid entirely by the friends of Philadelphia . . . Best school house in the county I believe is this one, owned with the lot of half acre entirely by the (col’d) people worth about $800, frame house good style & painted in size 25 by 30 ft in addition to all this they have now in their associations Treasury about $200 for educational purposes whenever needed, but thus far as I understand they have not been required to contribute any thing to the salary of the Teacher. It is only necessary to say in conclusion that if all the colored people in Virginia were as these are, with such white neighbors, ‘Peace’ would reign and reconstruction might be short work . . . But . . . Waterford can take care of its colored people or rather . . . they can take care of themselves.” [xvi]

That report was probably a bit over the top, but the 1869-70 session continued to build on earlier success, as the Bureau’s monthly report for February 1869 made clear:

“Waterford School opened October 1st and was expected to close May or June. The school was funded in part by the Friends of Philadelphia and part by Freedmen who contributed $15 this month. One teacher, 50 students enrolled: 35 male, 15 female, avg attendance 36. 24 students are members of the Waterford Temperance Society. Number in Writing: Books 36, Slates 20. Sabbath school with 6 teachers and about 40 pupils.”[xvii]

The Freedmen’s Bureau had pressed for establishment of a temperance society as an important feature of its support for the local Black community.[xviii]

The October 1869 report introduced a couple of cautionary points, noting that the school had been closed for five days “to make necessary repairs to the building,” and that public sentiment toward colored schools was “not very favorable though I think improving.” It was a period in which the political tides in Loudoun and the South were running against the reformers.[xix]

1870 brought big changes to the school. Virginia had a new postwar constitution—a condition for readmission to the Union—and with it a statewide public school system. The transition marked Sarah Ann Steer’s last year at the school. “In accordance with instructions received from Philadelphia, I closed my school March 31st.”  She hoped “to be held in remembrance by those which whom I have been associated in this great work, a work in which my heart has been truly interested . . . .”[xx]

1891 Insurance Policy

Under the Loudoun County school system, subsequent teachers at “Colored School A” on Second Street were African American. The school continued to be a source of pride in the Black community, and the trustees evidently retained a role in the management of the building, possibly receiving rent from the Jefferson District School Board for use of the building. By 1884 there was concern that the building was no longer adequate. The press reported in January that “the school trustees are going to build a large school house for a graded colored school.”[xxi] From the beginning the building had also served as a place for church services but had probably never been large enough for the purpose. In March 1885 “the members of the Methodist Episcopal Church (Colored) of Waterford . . . have no place now that we can call a house of worship, and the building we usually occupy does not accommodate the congregation.”[xxii]

In the end the congregants decided to build their own church, and the John Wesley Methodist Episcopal Church on Bond Street was dedicated six years later.

The plan for an enlarged schoolhouse was never realized. The Jefferson District School Trustees purchased a lot on High Street but never built the school and ended up selling the lot.[xxiii] Instead, a recent close inspection of the current structure indicates that it was at some point largely rebuilt. The wire nails used to frame the building, attach siding and interior paneling, and construct shutters, etc.  did not come into use until well after the initial construction in 1867. And that siding is also not original; its cove-lap profile was not commonly used until the 1880s.

As yet, research has turned up no clear documentary evidence of reconstruction. Clues, though, appear on an insurance policy for the schoolhouse dated 1891, which shows that the schoolhouse, then in moderate repair, was still locally owned. At the top of the cover there is a second date, in red, of August 9, 1895. That may be the date when the insurance was discontinued, suggesting that a change occurred either in the names of local trustees or a possible transfer of ownership to the Jefferson District School Trustees. Ongoing research into insurance records, newspapers, and school reports is underway to narrow down the date of reconstruction, any ownership changes, and the reason for rebuilding the schoolhouse. Stay tuned.[xxiv]

In any event, the new building continued to serve the Black community of Waterford and its hinterland until 1957, when Loudoun consolidated its rural schools. The School Board sold the vacant structure to a private individual in 1966, and the Waterford Foundation acquired it in 1977.[xxv]

[i] O.S.B. Wall , Letter to Col S. P. Lee, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Superintendent of Education, M1913, Roll 45, p. 908, 17 Dec 1868.

[ii] John E. Divine, When Waterford & I Were Young, Waterford Foundation, 1997, p. 40.

[iii] Ferree to Fullerton, Act As. Cmr DC, Leesburg, VA, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Assistant Commissioner Files, National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) M1055, Roll 5, p. 248, 15 January 1866.

[iv] Sarah A Steer, Monthly School Report, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Superintendent of Education, NARA M1056, Roll 14, p. 90, July 1866.

[v] Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Loudoun County, Policy 473, 31 August 1867, Library of Virginia.

[vi] Loudoun County Deed Book 5V:335, 02 Jun 1866; Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Loudoun County, Policy 231, 01 Apr 1869, Library of Virginia.

[vii] Smith to Manly Leesburg, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Records of Field Offices, NARA M1913, Roll 100,  N495, 18 May 1867.

[viii] Smith to Lee, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Records of Field Offices, NARA M1913, roll 100, N194, 22 Mar 1867.

[ix] Loudoun County Deed Book 5V:334, 29 Jul 1866.

[x] Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Loudoun County, Policy 17381, February 2, 1891; Loudoun County Will Book U, pp. 148 & 371

[xi] Smith to Capt S. P. Lee, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Assistant Commissioner, NARA M1048, Roll 5, p.219, 08 May 1867.

[xii] Smith to Manly, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Records of Field Offices, NARA, M1913, Roll 100, N495, 18 May 1867.

[xiii] Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Loudoun County, policy #425, 27 Apr 1867, Library of Virginia.

[xiv] Friends Intelligencer, Philadelphia, PA, November 3, 1867

[xv] Charles F Meyers, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Records of Field Offices, NARA M1913, Roll 36, pp. 232, 234, 09 May 1867.

[xvi] O.S.B. Wall, letter to Col S. P. Lee, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Records of Field Offices, NARA, M1913, roll 45, p 908, 17 Dec 1868.

[xvii] Sarah A Steer, Monthly School Report, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Superintendent of Education, NARA M1913, roll 50, #821, Feb 1869.

[xviii] OO Howard, Circular letter to S P Lee, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Records, Records of Field Offices, NARA M1913, roll 048, p. 673, 23 May 1867.

[xix] Sarah A Steer, Monthly School Report, U.S. Freedmen’s Bureau Monthly School Report, Superintendent of Education, M1053, roll 17, p. 434, Oct 1869.

[xx] Friends Intelligencer, Philadelphia, PA, 1870.

[xxi] Alexandria Gazette, Volume 85, Number 26, 30 January 1884, p. 2.

[xxii] Loudoun Telephone, Hamilton, VA, 27 Mar 1885, p. 3.

[xxiii] Loudoun County Deed Book 6V:15, 28 Aug 1883; Loudoun County Deed Book 7I:437, 20 Sep 1894.

[xxiv] Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Loudoun County, Policy 17381, February 2, 1891, Library of Virginia.

[xxv] Loudoun County Deed Book 461:491, 31 May 1966 ; Loudoun County Deed Book 682:309, 19 Oct 1977.

Random Thoughts from the Elbow Chair of Tim Tickler Sr.

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Tim Tickler Sr. was the nom de plume of S.B.T. Caldwell, a Wheatland resident and member of the “Young Friends Literary Society”, founded in the mid-19th century, although he was not a young man at the time, nor was he a member of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers). A former publisher of the Genius of Liberty, Caldwell’s observations in the essay below demonstrate how quickly news could travel in an age of telegraph, railroads, and steam power, in some cases more quickly than folks were able to understand.

12th Mo 21st 1859

Random Thoughts from the Elbow Chair of Tim Tickler Sr.

Confined for many years to my chamber by the gout, cut off from the world without getting no information of passing events except what I can persuade my little flirt of a grand-daughter to read from the papers, and she soon tires, unless I can listen to love stories, or tales of murder- I am consequently badly posted in regard to matters and things in general, rather at home or abroad. My cogitations during the intervals between the twinges of the gout, have been principally upon things past, with a strong desire that I might be able to compare them with things present- but my knowledge of the present was too superficial- too unreliable- to come to any satisfactory conclusion. I have heard so many and such strange tales about the wonderful progress made and making in this age and generation from my nephew, Tim Twist, who by the way is a very fast young man, that my mind was not prepared to believe anything. There was too much of the Arabian Knights, too much of the Gulliver’s Travels, in the reports I heard to give credence to any of them. But my faith was staggered a few years ago [1852] by the sudden announcement of the death of my old favorite- Henry Clay.

My daughter Tilda came into my room with a paper in her hand, while I was suffering much with pain in my toes and feet. Say she Father- don’t disturb me child says I- but I thought you would like to hear the news- says she- well what is it? says I: Why Henry Clay is dead! Dead says I, when did he die? Yesterday morning says she! and she read an account of his death and then next on to read telegraphic dispatches showing how the news of his death was received in Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Richmond, Cincinnati, Louisville, and all the principal cities for 6 or 700 miles in every direction. What paper is that says I? The Baltimore American of this morning says she- well well says I, that will do Tilda, that will do. Then I began to reflect is it possible says I that H Clay died yesterday morning in Washington and that a Balt. paper of this morning not only gives me the sad intelligence but informed us how it affected the whole community for many hundred miles around us, east west north and south. It cannot be, there must be some mistake. The newspapers are working upon the credulity of the people, the news of his death cannot yet be known to the people of Boston, Louisville, etc. It is all guess work up on the part of the Editors. They would make us believe they are omnipotent, omnipresent; that they know all things by intuition. It’s all a humbug. I don’t believe a word of it & won’t believe that H Clay is dead until I hear further. Such were my cogitations at the time. But alas it all turned out to be too true. Still it was a mystery- one that I could not fathom. I looked back to the time when it took a whole day to get the mail from Washington to Baltimore- when it required a week to et the news from Richmond up into the country, when there was no unusual delay occasioned by bad roads and high waters- and could not believe that this progressive age had accomplished such wonders. 

My mind was much exercised for a week or two upon this mysterious development- It appear to me so much like a dream and it passed off and I have hardly given it a thought since- and have heard but little that is going on in the outside world since until very recently when the whole community was suddenly startled by the movements of a fanatic by the name of Brown, Old Ossawattamie Brown I think they call him– There was something so romantic in the whole affair that my witch of a granddaughter has read nothing else to me since it happened.

She has thrown away her love stories and while my daughter Tilda is bathing my feet with Radway, the little sprite sits on a stool beside me and reads all the news from Harpers Ferry and Charlestown from the Baltimore paper which gives all the news of the preceding day at either of those places- by which I learn that monomaniac Brown came to Harpers Ferry with a hand full of men 22 I think all told, black and white, took possession of the US arsenal laid the town under siege stopped the cars upon the Rail Road- blockaded the Bridges- guarded the various avenues to the place – made prisoners of some 50 or 60 of the citizens and government officers- broke the telegraph wires– went 5 or 6 miles in the country- captured some of the principal farmers- brought them with their servants prisoners of war to town in their own carriages and struck a panic thro’ the whole surrounding neighborhood- this was all done on Sunday night and Monday morning – Presto-

On Tuesday the whole state was in motion and by noon of that day Gov. Wise with the military from Richmond, Alexandria and Washington was there- Brown still holding his prisoners as hostages and resisting the authorities until the US Marines, by aid of battering ram broke open his fortress and compelled this modern Leonidus to capitulate. See this occurred almost within hearing of my chamber and I knew nothing of it until Tuesday evening when Tilda brought in my supper and told me the whole story and much more as she has heard it from Tim Twist just from the Ferry- Tis no such thing says I, Till- I don’t believe a word of it- It is not probable that Gov. Wise could get the news and come two or three hundred miles with a large military force and be on the spot before I, living within a stones throw of the place, should know anything about it- It is just one of Tim’s big stories- but before I had fully expressed by disbelief in the improbable tale my neighbour Crazon came in and confirmed the whole story with some additions and amendments, I was then compelled to believe against my own better judgment- for I knew him to be a truthful and reliable man- still ‘twas strange, ‘twas wonderful; Thinks to myself- O Steam & Electricity behold thy power–Had I ventured 25 years ago that I should live to witness such progress in the transmission of thought by Electricity- or such rapid locomotion by steam- I should have pronounced it all a humbug. 

The visionary schemes of some wild hare-brained romances- Now I am compelled to believe it a living reality- for I have listened to the daily reports of the last six or 8 weeks which has confirmed it all- It forms a part of the eventful history of the times and I am prepared to believe anything, everything no matter how unreasonable. If told that a Balloon from Australia and one from California were now sailing through the air showering gold dust upon our land I should believe it and call for Tilda to push my chair to the window that I might see the stranger sight with my own eyes- and should probably hold out my hand to catch some of the precious metal as it fell-there is nothing so wild, nothing so visionary, nothing so improbable as to create a doubt in my mind of its reality- yes Brown has been arrested, twice, convicted, condemned, and executed, by due course of law and without the aid of Judge Lynch. 

Since this Brown excitement has measurably subsided my mind has been particularly exercised upon the power and influence of Fashion Fickle Fashion whose tyrannical sway over her votaries is more powerful than Steam, more wonderful than Electricity- yes I am ok? ok! ok! The gout The gout, More Radway Tilda- more Radway…….

Find other stories like this in To Talk is Treason by Divine, Souders & Souders available here.

 

A Few Surprising Threads of Waterford’s History

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by Jane Williams and Bronwen Souders

Waterford Quaker Ann Taylor Gover was probably not yet nine when, in 1829, she put down her needle and presented her latest handiwork for inspection. Her cross-stitch sampler evidently passed muster as it remained a treasured keepsake in the Gover family for nearly two centuries. It is now a valued part of Waterford’s Local History Collection, and to a trained eye it has stories to tell.

Cross-stitch samplers like Ann’s can tell us much about the cultural context and even artistic aspirations of ordinary women often marginalized in the telling of our history. Ann’s is exemplary of Quaker samplers of the early 19th century. Although the Society of Friends did not put a definite stamp on the artform of quilts, for example, as the Amish did, their samplers have a long prolific history in Quaker art.

One of the most iconic series of samplers come out of the English Quaker school Ackworth in West Yorkshire, UK. The Ackworth School’s are marked by fine and intricate motifs that still influence sampler design today.

Sarah Evans’ Sampler 1801 Ackworth School, West Yorkshire, UK

Modern Folk Embroidery 2017, stitched by Jane Williams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 1829, Mary B. Randolph stitched the piece below under the guide of Quaker teachers in Redstone, PA. Although Randolph’s sampler is similar to Ann’s, both are unique in their details. Samplers are often described as a teaching tool, but we also now view them as distinct artistic endeavors by the embroiderer. Ann’s piece is lovely and balanced and gives us some insight into everyday life in Waterford’s Quaker community. It includes a central urn, scripted alphabet and intricate border. It was worked in linen with silk thread.

Mary B. Randolph Sampler, Courtesy of Benton County Museum, Benton, OR

Ann T. Gover sampler, Courtesy of Waterford Foundation Archives

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ann was born into an important Quaker family in Waterford. Her father Jesse had earned prosperity as a harness and saddle maker, dry goods merchant, butcher and hat manufacturer. Both he and his wife Miriam “had received a gift in the ministry” of their Quaker meeting. And Jesse was active in the Loudoun Manumission and Emigration Society, an early effort to ameliorate the condition of Loudoun’s enslaved Blacks.

Ann as a teenager attended Samuel M. Janney’s highly regarded Springdale boarding school in nearby Goose Creek (Lincoln). Janney was Loudoun’s most prominent Quaker. But family fortunes darkened in 1845 when Jesse Gover died, still in his 40s. Ann, as the youngest daughter and still single, evidently set aside any plans of a family of her own to help look after her mother.

In 1871, some years after Miriam’s death, President Grant appointed Samuel M. Janney superintendent of Indian affairs in Nebraska, and, at about 50 years of age, Ann jumped in to help with her old Quaker headmaster’s mission. She set to work at the Manuel Labor School on the Pawnee Reservation, and with a fellow instructor was put in charge of the sewing program. Her childhood skill with needle and thread was thus passed on to another generation in a far-off place.

The circumstances were often trying. “. . . Of the 80 scholars connected with us at the time of our last report, one was a day-scholar, and attendance has been discontinued; five have been married and are now living in their own homes, two were killed by the Sioux, two died of chronic diseases, and one of an epidemic . . . [but] the girls are becoming skillful cooks, laundresses, housekeepers, and seamstresses under the kindly and watchful direction of those who instruct them . . . .”[1]

Ann eventually returned to Waterford and lived with her brother Samuel in the Griffith-Gover House on Main Street; she never married. She died in 1896 and rests in the Fairfax Meeting Burying Ground, leaving a childhood sampler that offers a glimpse into the artistic endeavors of everyday life in Waterford and presaged an adventure in the West that was not ordinary at all.

 

[1] Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Nebraska Superintendency http://images.library.wisc.edu/History/EFacs/CommRep/AnnRep71/reference/history.annrep71.i0011.pdf

 

 

Stories from the Attic: A. W. Phillips Meadow pastel, Interview Bronwen Souders

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“Stories in the Attic” is a series compiled and edited by Edith Crockett, Waterford Foundation Archives & Local History Collections Subcommittee. Individual stories are written by different authors.  This month’s “story” is the result of a collaboration between Bronwen C. Souders and Jane Williams.

Bronwen C. Souders grew up in the American West and in a recent interview said her younger self found history “boring”.  The past 50 years living near Waterford have changed her perspective. Now, as she used to say of her friend and mentor, historian John Divine, she is more familiar with the village of the 1820s than of the 2020s.  This month’s interview with Bronwen focuses on the A.W. Phillips Meadow pastel, created by

Mary “Molly” Dutton Steer, a Quaker, in 1900.  Think you have never seen this artwork? Think again.  It graces Waterford’s new signs on the entrances to our village.   Nearly lost to history, the pastel has recently been reframed for preservation by the Archives & Local History Collections Subcommittee.

Jane:  Bronwen, how did the Dutton Steer pastel come to the Waterford Historical Collections?

Bronwen:  More than 20 years ago, I was visiting with John Middleton (1925-2021) to discuss his early memories of Waterford.  John grew up in the village and was a member of the African American Collins family, long-time residents of the Waterford area.  He told me he had an old picture of Waterford that I might be interested in.  (His daughter only wanted the frame.) It was a charming view of the Phillips Farm from Second Street.

Jane:  Who was Molly Dutton Steer?

Sunnyside, circa 2007

Sunnyside, circa 1930

Molly Steer grew up at Sunnyside, a house that still stands on Second Street.  She was the artist of the four Dutton sisters.  Sisters Lida and Lizzie, along with Sarah Steer, created the Waterford News.  This pro-Union newspaper was one of the few women-run newspapers in the country during the Civil War.  Their father, John B. Dutton, was a strong Unionist who, with Sarah’s father Samuel Steer, sat out the war at Point of Rocks, Maryland, sneaking home periodically to see their families.

In the early 2000s, the owner of the Phillips Farm died, and 144 acres of the farm came on the market. The Waterford Foundation raised $2M to purchase the property, but a developer won the sales contract and announced plans to develop the property as a residential subdivision. The Foundation worked with the community, the Trust for Public Land, and other public and private supporters to buy the farm from the developer for just under $3.9M. Read more about this effort from the Washington Post. The Waterford Foundation embarked on an all-out fund-raising effort. To help raise money, the Foundation created T-shirts featuring the historic pastel.

Mary Frances “Molly” Dutton Steer with husband Frank Steer

Martha Parmes, pictured on Janney Street

During the war Molly married Franklin M. Steer, son of Second Street neighbor James M. Steer, a blacksmith. She lived into her 90s and eventually moved to a Quaker home in Baltimore, returning to Waterford for summertime visits.  During one such visit she gave the pastel to her friend Martha Parmes, a highly respected and much beloved member of the African American community.  Miss Parmes most likely passed it along to John Middleton.

Jane: Molly’s friendship with Martha Parmes suggests that the white community and the African American community were intertwined?

Bronwen: Waterford had always been integrated–even house-by-house.  There were enslaved African Americans living in White-owned homes, of course, but there were free African Americans who owned homes in Waterford alongside Whites well before the Civil War.  The African American community oversaw the Second Street School and built the John Wesley Church in the village.  Black and White children played together but never attended the same schools.  Black and White women would sometimes share a cup of tea, particularly in Quaker homes.

Jane:  Bronwen, thank you so much for your time and invaluable knowledge of Waterford!  This lovely pastel gives us an important portrait of how rural Waterford looked in the past.  And, as an artifact, provides insight into the close relationships among individuals despite racial segregation.  Thank you!

 

 

 

 

 

Stories from the Attic: Just Like Home c1862

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The following letter is in the Local History Collection of the Waterford Foundation. It was written by James Dickinson, a Union soldier of the 9th Division, bivouacked in Waterford, one of thousands of Yankee troops on their way south. James Dickinson’s home state was Michigan. His unit had only recently been mustered. For the most part, the original spelling and grammar of the letter have not been changed. Our thanks to John Souders for providing the history of the letter writer and identifying him..

Waterford Ver Mar the 1 1862

Dear Aunt,

I have a fine chance know[sic] to write you a few lines to let you know how we get along   We are all well know[sic] and in good spirits we are four miles in advance of our forces on picket Guard.   It is a splendid country and we have first rate times. The weather is very pleasant and warm. We are in a beautiful little grove where the walnuts are in abundance, aunt, perhaps that you would like it. Now what we had for Breakfast that perhaps that you know that while we are in the Enemys country that what we can get comes without money or without price. This morning there were twenty-eight very nice chickens came into our camp and only 20 of us to eat them so we fared first rate. We had chickens, pork, peas, sauce and coffee [illegible] hard bread for our breakfast and it relished first rate to [illegible] it is not very often that we are favored with such blessings as these here. We can crack nuts and apples, pears and chickens and thore [there] is a very nice spring of water not but a few feet from our tents. Aunt, this seems most like home of anything that I have had since we left home. You see we are left as a reserve so that if the rest of the pickets are driven(?) in we are to support them, so that we do not have to have but one man out of twenty to stand guard. Well Aunt you may think it strange that I do not write oftener but we are bothered most to. death to get postage stamps here and we have to divide them amongst our friends as equal as we can. Well, Aunt, I don’t know as I can think of anything more to write. At present I have just written home but have not received any letter from there in a long time. I must close. Give my love to all inquiring friends and don’t forget to accept a share for yourself. Good Buy [sic].

From  J D Dickinson

Image of unknown Union soldier courtesy of the Library of Congress.

 

Stories from the Attic: The Moore Family’s Influence on the Growth of Waterford

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By Debbie Robison, May 27, 2022

When the village of Waterford was founded at the close of the American Revolutionary War, a mercantile store and a number of manufacturing ventures were established that had a significant impact on the success of the village. Almost immediately, a remarkable variety of goods began to be manufactured, including tanned leather, saddles, and cabinets.  Credit for developing these key businesses goes to one industrious Quaker family. Thomas Moore and his three adult sons, James Moore, Thomas Moore Jr, and Asa Moore, began several businesses on lots they bought and leased near Mahlon Janney’s mill. They likely named this new village after their homeland where the elder Thomas Moore was born.[1]

Receipt for payment of a five pound seven shilling four pence debt in wheat

Thomas Moore Jr. opened a store, operated as Thomas Moore & Co, with financial assistance from Alexandria merchant John Sutton.[2] The success of the business was hindered by a post-war depression that began the year the store opened. While it was typical at that time to sell merchandise on credit, the store had to discontinue the practice during the depression and limit providing credit to the purchase of small trifles. During this time, when a new nation was being formed, the United States did not yet have a federal banking system. Virginia had its own currency, a holdover from the colonial period, in denominations of pound, shilling, and pence. On at least one occasion, the company accepted wheat, the predominant cash crop of the time, to pay down debts owed to the store.[3] The store closed about 1790 when Thomas Moore Jr. moved to Maryland.

The tannery, where animal hides were tanned to make them pliable, was established ca. 1785 on a small branch that became known as Tan Yard Run. James Moore leased the 3/4-acre lot from Joseph Janney, who developed the village.[4] Pits were dug in the ground for soaking the animal hides; first to remove the hair and fat from the hide, then to soften the hide into leather. Tanners often sold the hair that was removed from the hides to a local plasterer. Original lime plaster walls in the village may contain animal hair from the tannery. Asa Moore and his son-in-law, Thomas Phillips, took over the business from James Moore. In 1832, following Asa Moore’s death, the tannery had 40 to 50 in-ground vats, a large bark house (to store bark used to tan hides), a currying house (where leather was treated), and a handling house.[5] The Waterford Foundation owns this historic tannery site.

This open space bordered by Main, Liggett, and Bond streets was the site of the Moore family tanning operation from c1785 to 1832.

Asa Moore operated the saddlery where saddles were manufactured using tanned leather.[6] Saddle making required skilled craftsmanship to assemble saddles using glues while stitching together the various components.

Thomas Moore (Sr. or Jr.) was involved in a woodworking trade. It is unknown what type of products were made, though the skills of cabinet makers and joiners were used.[7] They could have been making furniture or had a role in building houses. A cabinet maker constructed furniture, such as cupboards, drawers, doors, and coffins. Joints, such as dovetail joints, were constructed by joiners to connect pieces of wood together.

The significance of the Moore family businesses is due, in part, to the many apprentices who were taught skills as boys while working for the Moores. At least 21 boys were apprenticed to the Moore family to work in these trades. Upon completing their apprenticeships, a number of these young men, along with other men who worked for the Moore family, established businesses in Waterford. For example, Henry Burkett, who lived with Thomas Moore, Jr. from 1789 through 1791, leased two lots on the south side of Main Street in 1792.[8] Evidently, Burkett knew the cabinet making/joiner trade because in 1793 Daniel Lovett (previously apprenticed to Thomas Moore) was bound to him to learn the trade of joiner.[9] In 1794, Jesse James (previously apprenticed to Thomas Moore, Jr to learn the trade of cabinet maker) was living with Burkett in the village.[10] Apparently they were operating a cabinet making shop. Another example is Joseph Talbott who, before becoming a tavern keeper, operated a saddle making business on Main Street.[11] He had previously lived with Asa Moore, who ran the Moore’s saddlery business, from 1792-1795.[12]

So not only was the Moore family vitally important at the formation of the village of Waterford, but they were also influential in its expansion and growth.

 

References

[1] Souders, Bronwyn C., Waterford, Virginia: Named for Waterford, Ireland, or not? (A Moore family history) [manuscript].

[2] Trust agreement between Thomas Moore Jr. and John Sutton, Loudoun County Deed Book O:423, 17 Jun 1785.

[3] George Emery etc. v. John Sutton, etc., Loudoun County Chancery Case 1791_009, pp. 12 and 15, as viewed at https://www.lva.virginia.gov/chancery/.

[4] Joseph Janney’s Will, Loudoun County Will Book D:341, probated October 11, 1793; Loudoun County Land Tax Ledgers: Alterations 1786, 1787-1799.

[5] “Public Sale,” Genius of Liberty, March 3, 1832, as viewed at www.geneologybank.com. Ad describes the tannery business of Moore & Phillips that was for sale.

[6] Loudoun County Order Book I:87, September 12, 1785.

[7] Loudoun County Order Book I:336

[8] Lease from Joseph Janney to Henry Burkett, Lots 7 and 8, Loudoun County Deed Book U:266, June 1, 1792.

[9] Loudoun County Order Book P:321.

[10] Loudoun County Personal Property Tax Ledgers, 1794-1796.

[11] Talbott, Joseph, Alexandria Daily Gazette, 11 Nov 1808.

[12] Loudoun County Personal Property Tax Ledgers, 1792-1795.

 

 

Stories from the Attic – Edwin R. Gover

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Written by Edith Crockett, with contributions from John and Bronwen Souders, Jonathan Daniel, and Debbie Robison.

More than a few Waterford residents are so fascinated by our village’s history that they always keep a sharp eye out for early artifacts, letters, paintings and more about Waterford. Last year, Edith Crockett learned of a painting of a “vintage” building said to be located in Waterford. Not recognizing the structure, she contacted Bronwen and John Souders about its possible identity. The Souders immediately recognized it as a painting of their own barnyard, done in the 1930s, by a member of the Carr family, prominent in Waterford history. It was quickly acquired by them and now has “come home.”

Not long ago, another Waterford resident, Jonathan Daniel, acquired a letter from Edwin R. Gover written to a Reverend C.H. Nourse concerning a transfer of property, dated July 7, 1854. In an effort to learn more about the circumstances of the letter and to share its contents more broadly, Jonathan was kind enough to share its contents with the Souders, Debbie Robison and Edith, and generously gave us permission to include it in our newsletter:

Waterford, July 7, 1854

Rev. C.H.  Nourse,

                        Dear Sir,

I received your letter on the Fourth, in which you wish to know whether I intend to stand to my proposition or not, in answer I would say that I always try to comply with all engagements that I make, it will not be convenient for me to be in Leesburg before August court Monday if that will suit you. You will let me hear from you or come up to Waterford I have my business to attend to and no one to assist me and I cannot leave it.

            The proposition from your letter coming to me is not altogether correct. Statement in that I could not [have]]? Possession before the first of January instead of the first December and that all the rent up to that time would be coming to me.

Yours with Respect,

Edwin R. Gover

Our own Northern Virginia history sleuth, Debbie Robison, replied:

“This letter suggests that Gover needed to go to the courthouse to record something… I found a deed and trust agreement between Gover and Nourse recorded at the January 1855 court. I suspect this is the [same] transaction since this is the only transaction between the two men at least from 1833-1857.”

Longtime Waterford historians Bronwen and John Souders also went to work immediately, and responded with a stream of remarkable history about Edwin Gover:

“Edwin R. Gover was born on 13 Oct 1818 in Waterford, the illegitimate child of 21-year-old Ann Gover and Andrew S. Anderson (29), a New York transplant. Ann gave birth in the house of Garrett and Elizabeth Gover Hough, her older sister, her mother having died. Edwin was apparently raised by Ann with the help of the extended Gover family (Andrew went on to marry the daughter of a prominent area farmer).

Edwin was living in Leesburg by 1841 as a “mechanic,” probably in the leather-working trade. By 1850 he was identified in the census as a saddler, married and the father of an infant daughter. As of 1859 he was back in Waterford, “gaining in reputation every day, as one of the finest Saddle and Harness Manufacturers in the county.”

In the meantime, he had become active in Democratic Party politics in Loudoun. At the time, the populist Democrats, heirs of the Jacksonian era, were a small minority in Waterford, but gaining strength elsewhere as Virginia slid toward war. By March 1860, Gover was among those endorsing “the candidate best calculated to ensure the triumph of the Democratic Party in the coming contest, and thereby crush out Black Republicanism, preserve the rights of the South, and perpetuate for ourselves and our posterity the blessings of a constitutional Union.”

Nonetheless, when Virginia put secession to the vote the following year, Gover bucked his party and voted with the majority in Waterford against the ordinance. And, in June 1862, he was among the first to enlist in the Loudoun Rangers, Sam Means’s Unionist cavalry company. The following February, “a majority having voted for Gover, he was declared elected [2nd Lt.]. The boys dubbed him ‘Four Eyes.’ He was a kind and pleasant officer, but perhaps a little old [at 43] and slow for the position.”  He was also called “the singing lieutenant” for his vocal talents. By the end of the war, Gover was 1st Lt. and senior officer of Co. A when he and his men were surprised and ignominiously captured on 6 April at Keyes’ Switch on the Shenandoah.

In the fall of 1865 he moved with his family to the farming village of Kansas, Illinois, a hundred miles west of Indianapolis. He died of typhoid in 1882 and was buried north of the village.

 As for the Reverend Charles H. Nourse, he was about the same age as Gover, but cut from different cloth. He was born in Washington, DC, and became a Presbyterian minister. He voted for secession and as of 1860 owned a 40-year-old mulatto slave and her three young children. Nourse was arrested by federal authorities on several occasions, but never wavered in his support for the Confederacy, refusing to sign the oath of allegiance. One Union officer referred to the “reverend gentleman acting as a kind of rebel postbag.” He was able to cross enemy lines with relative freedom as a minister and acted as a rebel courier. 

After the war he moved farther south in Virginia. In 1870 he was in Culpeper County, where he taught school in addition to his ministerial duties—and employed two Black domestics.”

 What an amazing amount of history has surfaced – vividly – all from a short letter written in July, 1854. And there is more: thanks to generous donations from the Gover family a few years ago, the Foundation has in its collections an early sampler by Ann T. Gover dated 1829, and a desk, made in Leesburg, once owned by the Gover family.

Thank you to all the contributors to this glimpse into Waterford history of more than 140 years ago!

Waterford’s 1860s Infrastructure Woes

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Considering the remarkable story of the Waterford News, a Civil War era pro-Union newspaper published by three young Waterford ladies within secessionist Virginia, perhaps the most unexpected delight is the editors’ abilities to maintain their senses of humor during such a distressing time of war and uncertainty. A perfect example of their refreshing tone is an unlikely recurring character in their paper: the mud-hole.

The Main Street Big Hill circa 1860, an illustration of the state of Waterford streets in the 1860s. Silas Hough and his sister Annie pictured at right.

The mud-hole first appears in May 1864 in Vol. I, No. 1 as a sardonic entreaty to the women of Waterford to remedy a situation that the men of the town have seemingly ignored:

“Pop-Gun.

[General Order, No. 6]

The young ladies of Waterford, Loudon Co., VA., are hereby notified to meet the first opportunity and lend their mutual aid in filling a large mud-hol with stone, said mud-hole being located in the middle of Second Street, and the men have driven around it so much that it is extending each side. Being fearful the gentlemen will get their feet muddy, the ladies will try and remedy it.”

The notice appears to have had some impact with the local citizenry, as noted by the follow up item in June 1864 in Vol. I, No. 2. However, we see that not all constituents favor the elimination of the mud-hole entirely:

“We record with pleasure one exception to the general apathy of the gentlemen. Are sorry ‘tis only one; but think the truth should not be withheld. Our thanks are due to the citizen for one load of sand deposited in the mud-hole. It will gladly be the recipient of a dozen more. We think it well to forewarn all young ladies of other neighborhoods not to let their heart’s devotion rest on young men who are so lost to the spirit of chivalry once the boast of Virginia’s sons. If that is not a sufficient reason, we would add they should not be so ungenerous as to interfere with the future prospects of the ladies here, which are slim enough anyhow.”

—

“Misses Editors of ‘Waterford News’” – Will you allow a much abused member of the Porcine species a word in your columns? Hitherto one of the greatest enjoyments of myself and fellow grunters, was an afternoon siesta in the mud hole on Second street, which enjoyment you have been the means of lessening by having one cartload of sand deposited in the deepest and most comfortable corner. If it should be filled, I don’t know where we shall go, for there is not another such a mud hole in the corporation.” 

The readers must have taken the plea from the local pig to heart, as little progress is mentioned in future issues; however, one should not assume that the problem was solved. The mud-hole reenters the narrative in November 1864 in Vol. 1, No. 6:

“All who wish to behold the great curiosity of muddy streets in Waterford, can be gratified by visiting our town at this time. We will be happy to show our friends around.”

…

Wants. 

…

“Wanted–A plaster for the mud-hole, it is breaking out again.”

The mud-hole persists throughout the winter, although it changes with the seasons. In January 1865 in Vol. I, No. 7, we learn:

“The mud hole at which we grumbled so much, has transmogrified itself into a skating pond, and is the daily resort of quite a number of boys, to say nothing of children of a larger growth, who we think appear interested.”

And in April 1865, the final issue Vol. I, No. 8, the editors include the latest updates on the situation, seemingly resigned to a fate of muddy streets for the foreseeable future:

“The ice and snow having disappeared, the mud hole has again made its appearance. It looks perfectly natural.”

The saga of the Second Street mud-hole is just one example of entertaining bits of humor sprinkled throughout the eight issues of the newspaper. It also serves as proof that some of the more mundane aspects of community and village life have changed little since the 1860s. Each spring brings mud along with flowers, roads need constant maintenance, and one man’s nuisance is another man’s (or pig’s) luxurious mud-hole. 

Find the complete collection of all eight issues of the Waterford News online here to read more from these remarkable young ladies.