The Colonial Architecture of Philadelphia. Frank Cousins
from England. The place reached a deplorable state of decay several years ago, yet the accompanying photograph shows enough remaining to be of considerable architectural interest.23
It is a large, square house two and a half stories high, its hipped roof broken by handsome pedimental dormers with round-topped windows. The front is of brick laid up in characteristic Flemish bond, while the other walls are of plastered rubble stone masonry, the brickwork and stonework being quoined together at the front corners. A broad plaster coving is the principal feature of the simple molded cornice, and one notes the much used double belt formed by two projecting courses of brick at the second-floor level. The fenestration differs in several respects from that of similar houses erected a quarter century later. The arrangement of the ranging windows is quite conventional, but instead of marble lintels above them there are nicely gauged flat brick arches, while the basement windows are set in openings beneath segmental relieving arches with brick cores. The latter are reflected in effect by the recessed elliptical arches above all the windows in the walls of plastered rubble masonry. The windows themselves, with nine-paned upper and lower sashes having unusually heavy muntins, likewise the shutters on the lower story and the heavy paneled doors, are higher and narrower than was the rule a few years later. The entrance, with its characteristic double doors, is reached by a porch and four stone steps, its low hip roof with molded cornice being supported by two curious, square, tapering columns. Porches were an unusual 24circumstance in the neighborhood, and this one is so unlike any others of Colonial times which are worthy of note as to suggest its having been a subsequent addition. Above, a round-arched recess with projecting brick sill replaces the conventional Palladian window.
Indoors, an exceptionally wide hall extends entirely through the house from front to back, opening into spacious rooms on both sides through round-topped doorways with narrow double doors heavily paneled. An elliptical arch supported by fluted pilasters spans the hall about midway of its length, and a handsome staircase ascends laterally from the rear part after the common English manner of that day. Throughout the house the woodwork is of good design and execution, the paneled wainscots, molded cornices, door and window casings all being very heavy, and the broad fireplaces and massive chimney pieces in complete accord. Deep paneled window seats, very common in contemporary houses, are a feature of the first-floor rooms. The kitchens and the servants' quarters are located in a separate building to the rear, a brick-paved porch connecting the two. This custom, as in the South, was characteristic of the locality and period.
Hope Lodge was erected in 1723 by Samuel Morris, a Quaker of Welsh descent, who was a justice of the peace in Whitemarsh and an overseer of Plymouth Meeting. Morris built it expecting to marry a 25 young Englishwoman to whom he had become affianced while on a visit to England with his mother, Susanna Heath, who was a prominent minister among the Friends. The wedding did not occur, however, and Samuel Morris died a bachelor in 1772, leaving his estate to his brother Joshua, who sold Hope Lodge in 1776 to William West. In 1784 West's executors conveyed it to the life interest of Colonel James Horatio Watmough with a reversion to his guardian, Henry Hope, a banker. It was Colonel Watmough who named the place Hope Lodge as a compliment to his guardian. One of his daughters married Joseph Reed, son of General Joseph Reed, and another married John Sargent, the famous lawyer. Both the Reeds and Sargents occupied Hope Lodge at various times, and it eventually passed into the Wentz family.
No other Colonial country house of brick that now remains holds an interest, either architectural or historic, quite equal to that of Stenton, which stands among fine old oaks, pines and hemlocks in a six-acre park, all that now remains of an estate of five hundred acres located on Germantown Avenue on the outskirts of Germantown near the Wayne Junction railroad station. One of the earliest and most pretentious countryseats of the neighborhood, it combines heavy construction and substantial appearance with a picturesque charm that is rare in buildings of such early origin. This is due in26 part to the brightening effect of the fenestration, with many small-paned windows set in white-painted molded frames, and quite as much to the slender trellises between the lower-story windows supporting vines which have spread over the brickwork above in the most fascinating manner. Both features impart a lighter sense of scale, while the profusion of white wood trim emphasizes more noticeably the delightful color and texture of the brickwork.
The house is a great, square, hip-roofed structure two and a half stories high with two large square chimneys and severely plain pedimental dormers. Servants' quarters, kitchens and greenhouses are located in a separate gable-roof structure a story and a half high, extending back more than a hundred feet from the main house, and connected with it by a covered porch along the back. In the kitchen the brick oven, the copper boiler and the fireplace with its crane still remain.
The walls of the house consist of characteristic brickwork of red stretchers and black headers laid up in Flemish bond, with square piers at the front corners and on each side of the entrance, and there is the more or less customary projecting belt at the second-floor level. On the second story the windows are set close up under the heavy overhanging cornice, with its prominent modillions, while on the lower story there are relieving arches with cores of brick instead of stone lintels so common on houses27 a few decades later. There are similar arches over the barred basement windows set in brick-lined areaways. Interesting indeed is the scheme of fenestration. Although formal and symmetrical on the front, the windows piercing the other walls frankly correspond to the interior floor plan, although ranging for the most part. Unlike the usual arrangement, there are two widely spaced windows above the entrance, while the narrow flanking windows either side of the doorway may be regarded as one of the earliest instances of side lights in American architecture. The severely simple entrance with its high narrow paneled doors without either knob or latch is reached from a brick-paved walk about the house by three semicircular stone steps such as were common in England at the time, the various nicely hewn pieces fastened securely together with iron bands.
The front door opens into a large square hall with a brick-paved floor and walls wainscoted to the ceiling with white-painted wood paneling. There is a fireplace on the right, and beyond an archway in the rear a staircase ascends to the second floor. To the right of the hall is the parlor, also with paneled walls, and a fireplace surrounded by pink tiles. In the wainscoted room back of this the sliding top of a closet offers opportunity for a person to conceal himself and listen through a small hole to the conversation in the adjoining hall. To the 28 left of the hall is the dining room, beautifully wainscoted and having a built-in cupboard for china and a fireplace faced with blue tiles. The iron fireback bears the inscription "J. L. 1728." Back of this through a passageway is a small breakfast room, whence an underground passage for use during storms or sieges leads from a trap door in the floor to the barns.
The second-story floor plan is most unusual. The library, a great long room, extends entirely across the front of the house, with its range of six windows and two fireplaces on the opposite wall, one faced with blue tiles and the other with white. Here, with the finest private collection of books in America at that time, the