You never know what a BMW road trip will lead to. My latest one involved missing shadows, ringing rocks, a beautiful young Mexican cliff diver, The Blob, and a search for Indian Hannah and the Stargazer’s Stone, which sounds suspiciously like a Harry Potter novel. And, of course, the usual historic ruins and tragedy.
On September 6 I fired up the ever-willing BMW Z4 3.0i and headed northeast up I-95 and then across the Susquehanna River on top of the Conowingo Dam (saving an $8.00 toll in the process—it seemed like a bit much for the privilege of driving 45 minutes on the interstate). My first stop was at the Hopewell, Pennsylvania historic district, near Oxford, PA.
The Dickey family, who emigrated from Ulster, Ireland in the 1730s, founded Hopewell. They experimented with innovative methods of farming, integrated their farms with water-powered grist and textile mills, and substantially advanced Chester County’s educational system starting in the early 1800s. Here we have (i) Ebenezer J. Dickey’s 1830 farmhouse, which has been beautifully restored from what had been virtually a ruin; (ii) the 1810 Hopewell general store and post office (now a residence); (iii) the 1815 textile mill, which used water power to run weaving looms; and (iv) a Wee Gray Burro who politely held still for a 3-exposure HDR photograph.
A key goal was to find the Hopewell Academy, which was founded in 1820 by Colonel David Dickey and operated by Jesse C. Dickey. It taught Latin, Greek, mathematics, science, history, literature, and grammar until the outbreak of the Civil War, when the institution closed. I had this 1930s photo from the Library of Congress, but the building’s specific location was not clear. After driving back and forth and hiking through a meadow without success, I finally bit the bullet and motored up a steep driveway, eventually finding myself on someone’s farm that was clearly not the academy. On my way back down, however, I spotted the former academy! I was pleased to see that the building not only still existed, it has been extensively renovated and is now an impressive private residence. (Look carefully, and you’ll see that this is indeed the same building, from the front side.)
Almost all of my meanderings on this trip were in Chester County, PA. After crossing the Pine Grove Bridge, however, I was temporarily in Lancaster County. Pine Grove was built in 1884 by the respected and prolific covered-bridge builder Captain Elias McMellen, who had 35 other bridges to his credit in Lancaster County alone. Pine Grove comprises two end-to-end burr arches and is the longest covered bridge in either county. This bridge and the original ford were an important part of the national stagecoach highway from Washington, DC to New York City. (Drawing by the Historic American Buildings Survey.)
If you slide down the bank of Octoraro Creek, walk under the bridge, and hop across a rivulet on some stones, then you reach the following sight, including the Octoraro Water Company and dam from 1904. Did I mention what a perfect day it was?
At one time, the state of Pennsylvania had approximately 1,500 covered bridges. About 225 of these survive—which is more than in any other state or, for that matter, any other country.
In 1854, the Rev. John M. Dickey cofounded the Ashmun Institute in Oxford, the first college for African American students in the U.S. It has been in operation ever since and is now known as Lincoln University. The university’s first African American President was Horace Mann Bond (1904-1972), who graduated from Lincoln at age 19 and earned a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago. He was the father of well-known civil rights activist Julian Bond. Dr. Mann is shown here in 1946, awarding an honorary doctorate from Lincoln University to Albert Einstein.
Knowing none of this history on September 6th, I blithely parked my trusty Z4 in front of the Bond House at Lincoln. Subsequent research revealed that it was built in 1891 and later named for Horace Mann Bond. It was used as a dormitory for many years and is currently awaiting renovation.
Lincoln’s main campus is immediately across the street, and its enrollment is currently about 2,500 undergraduate and graduate students. As with the other colleges I’ve visited, no one seemed to mind a gawky old photographer wandering about, and I received warm greetings wherever I went.
I found the Hosanna Meeting House immediately next to the campus. It was built in 1843 and served as a stop on the Underground Railroad. In 1864, famed abolitionists Frederick Douglass and Sojourner Truth (who was also an advocate for women’s rights) made impassioned speeches here in support of the Union, prompting a number of free blacks in Chester County to join the Union Army.
My next destination was the historic community of Doe Run, PA. I stopped along the way to view the house in which Cyrus and Abbie Hoopes lived and worked as farmers for over 50 years. The portion on the left was built in about 1825 by the Barnard family, with the rest added by the Hoopes in 1860. Among other notable features, this house still retains an original 1800s bathroom, complete with a tin bathtub set in marble.
The Hoopes farm is still active, as evidenced by this corn crop.
A Native American village originally stood on what became the town of Doe Run. A colonial settlement developed here in the 1700s, followed by significant industry in the 1800s. Not a lot has changed since then, other than all of the industry going out of business. This is the oldest surviving home in Doe Run, having been built by Nathan Hayes in 1796.
This old duplex housed workers for the nearby paper and grist mills. It dates from 1820.
The rather more modern-looking house shown in this photo was built in 1845 and is also a duplex. It served as the original office of Mutual Fire Insurance of Chester County—the first insurance company in this area. Business grew beyond anyone’s expectations, and by 1870 the company had more than $30,000,000 of fire insurance in force.
And that brings us to the ruins of the Highland Dairy. The three-story Phipps paper mill stood here in the late 1700s, and it was later converted to cotton production, then wool. In the 1880s, the building was reborn as a creamery on the first floor, with the upper stories used for a school, the town hall, and a community center. By 1941, the Highland Dairy had moved in and occupied the entire structure. Following a major fire and rebuilding, Highland also moved on in 1955, and this odd building has sat abandoned and deteriorating ever since. It’s impossible to know exactly which sections did what things at different times, but the National Register of Historic Places indicates that the town hall is still in there—somewhere.
Doe Run had other mills as well, this one being the three-story stone grist mill built by William Harlan in 1744. As for that third story, it disappeared in the fire of 1884. (You begin to understand why a fire insurance company was so badly needed…)
There was a surprising amount of traffic on the main road through this forgotten village. I parked where I could (and hoped for the best).
I left Doe Run via Covered Bridge Road (of course), expecting to cross Buck Run on the Speakman Covered Bridge No. 1. It’s there, all right, but it was closed for repairs following flood damage. Still, it was nice to find an original, unrestored covered bridge, even if it meant a lengthy detour.
Besides, any detour in this area will automatically take you by other scenic, historic, or interesting places. In this instance, I happened across Rokeby Hollow, which offered further proof that “everyplace is interesting.” Although I’d stopped only because it was scenic, I learned that 220 years ago Isaac Pennock built the nation’s first iron rolling and “slitting” (cutting) mill here, using power from the site’s 14-foot high waterfall. The fabricated iron was used to make barrel hoops, wagon wheels, and other products, and by 1841 the mill was working 400 tons of boiler plate a year. The Federal Slitting Mill was lost to time—until Don and Joan Silknitter bought the property in 1980 and discovered its ruins in the underbrush, along with many artifacts. Subsequently, they built a replica of the original slitting mill, which generates electricity for their own use and to sell to the local power company.
I mean, who knew? Isaac Pennock, incidentally, went on to start the Brandywine Iron Works and Nail Factory in nearby Coatesville, using the power of the Brandywine River. His daughter, Rebecca Webb Pennock Lukens, operated the mill and built it into the area’s largest and most successful iron mill. Today, the Coatesville mill is the oldest, continuously operating steel mill in the country. And Rebecca is considered the first female industrialist and CEO in America.
Eventually I detoured around the Speakman Bridge and located the Old Stone School. It dates back to 1846, with 27-year-old Benjamin Buckwalter as the first schoolmaster. It may be the oldest one-room schoolhouse in Pennsylvania still in its original configuration. (The historical photo is from the National Register of Historic Places and shows the opposite side of the school.)
Just for my Baptist friends Cathy and Kim, here is the Hephzibah Baptist Church in all its glory. The present building was constructed in 1889, replacing earlier meeting houses from 1720 and 1793.
However… In the Hephzibah cemetery, there are clearly prominent shadows cast from a couple of objects outside of the photo. But not one of the gravestones appears to have a shadow. Most peculiar. Can you think of an explanation (other than the obvious “it’s a Baptist thing”)?
I stopped to look at the ruins of a house alongside Strasburg Road, in East Fallowfield,
only to see yet more ruins through one of its windows. I tell ya, there’s treasure everywhere.
While looking for the Ercildoun Meeting House, I mistakenly thought that this old building might be it. A local woman at a church yard sale corrected my error and also mentioned that this house used to be a school for young women and that it had been badly damaged for a tornado in the 1800s. A Full Description of the Great Tornado in Chester County, Pennsylvania, by Richard Darlington, Jr., provides all the details. (Darlington was the principal of the Ercildoun Seminary for Young Ladies when the tornado struck.) The historical photo from this article shows a side view of the seminary after the tornado had ripped off its fourth story.
Nearby was the Lukens-Pierce Octagonal House. Mr. Pierce was a prosperous nurseryman, and he built this unusual dwelling in 1856. Inside, there are four large rectangular rooms and four small triangular ones, with a circular stairway in the center. As seen from the historical photos, the house originally had a large porch that enveloped five of the eight sides. (Yet another place where I’d like to live!)
Edward Dougherty was from Donegal, Ireland. A shop- and innkeeper, he built this stone Federal house in about 1795 (but sold it in 1798). Efforts appear to be underway to stabilize the house and possibly to renovate it, which is always nice to see.
It was easy to find the old railroad station in Parkesburg, since it was right next to the railroad tracks as one might naturally expect. It continues to serve passengers as an Amtrak station. Remember the early scene in the movie Witness, where Kelley McGillis and Lucas Haas are going to take the train to Philadelphia? It was filmed here.
By comparison, finding the old railroad station in Honey Brook wasn’t all that easy—mostly because the railroad doesn’t go through the town any more, and the tracks are long gone. Nonetheless, this is it. The building now serves as the town hall. Honey Brook, incidentally, used to be called Waynesburgh in honor of General “Mad Anthony” Wayne, a Chester County native and hero of the American Revolution. “Honey Brook” is a loose translation of the Welsh word “Nantmeal,” as in Nantmeal Township, PA.
I have no idea who built or used to live in this house—but I loved its mixed Federal and Victorian appearance.
One of my primary goals of this trip was to find the ruins of the massive Isabella iron furnace. I was expecting an overgrown set of foundations, hidden among trees, so imagine my surprise when I easily spotted this well-maintained, park-like setting. The ruins of the furnace stack are on the lower left in the photo, with the 1870 machine shop at the upper left. The building to the right of center was the 1835 “wheel house,” where molds for casting railroad wheels and other iron products were created. The 1880 brick steam engine house is just visible on the far right.
The Isabella furnace was built in 1835 by Henry Potts (the great-grandson of the founder of Pottstown) and operated by his younger brother David. It prospered until the 1850 recession, at which time it was sold to investors outside of the Potts family. Following his retirement from the presidency of the Empire Transportation [railroad] Company, Col. Joseph Potts (David’s son) desired to return to the happy scene of his childhood at Isabella, and he repurchased the property. It continued to operate until shortly after the Colonel’s death in December 1893, making it one of the last such furnaces in Pennsylvania.
In this 1959 photo, the furnace stack is still standing. It collapsed without warning in the 1980s. Notice, too, that the machine shop has no roof; the metal roofs were removed during World War II and sold for scrap. In the early 1970s, the Lieberman family purchased the property, rebuilt the machine shop as a residence, and generally stabilized and restored many of the other buildings. The huge charcoal house—which is roughly three times the size of the machine shop—is not shown in either photo, but it still stands proudly, complete with an unusual integrated railroad trestle.
Given Pennsylvania’s later role as the world’s leading producer of steel, I suppose it’s no surprise that its early industry included a great many iron furnaces, large and small. Chester County seemed to have an unlimited supply, including the Reading Iron Furnace from 1736. Although the furnace itself no longer exists, the owner’s property continues to do well. Unfortunately, the 1744 mansion was out of site behind trees at the top of a ridge. I did manage to photograph the 85-foot-long stone “shed” and, on the left, the 1736 company store.
The James Mill was built between 1783 and 1785 and ground flour for the community until 1968! It has since been converted to a residence and is still owned by the James family.
What looks like an even larger mill, on the adjacent Warwick Furnace Farm, is actually a barn I believe. But my real interest was in the Warwick Furnace. Unfortunately, it collapsed some years ago, and the best I could do was this photo of what’s left of the furnace office, languishing in the underbrush. Warwick Furnace was built in 1737 by Mrs. Anna Nutt and operated through the 1860s. It’s notable for having cast the first Franklin Stove and for producing the iron used to build the USS Monitor, the Union’s first iron-clad warship. (Against all odds, I have now visited the furnaces used for both the Monitor and the Merrimac within the space of about a month.)
While having a pleasant conversation with the Warwick Furnace Farm’s security patrol, who wanted to ensure that I didn’t hop the fence and search out the furnace ruins (perhaps my reputation preceded me…), I learned that there was yet another grist mill just down the road. I located the Hockley Mill without difficulty—and promptly recognized the nearby iron bridge over the South Branch of French Creek, which I’d seen on an earlier trip (A Ride to Virginville and the Scariest Place Ever). Small world.
Henry Hockley came to America from England sometime in the 1720s. He married Anna Nutt’s sister, Esther, and established a milling business that largely provided services related to the Warwick Furnace. The existing mill was built in 1805 on the foundations of Henry’s original mill and is almost completely original.
Using a clever technique that I’ve developed over the years, I found St. Peter’s Village by following St. Peter’s Road. This was an 1850s “company town” for a major mining operation near the Falls of French Creek. Over time, it also became a popular tourist destination, in part because of the boulder-filled creek immediately adjacent to the town. The village itself was charming and merited a much longer visit. Some years ago, Cookie used to own and operate the general store here.
The huge boulders in French Creek are a little ways downstream of this photo, but I couldn’t get a good shot of them. Accordingly, I’ve borrowed Steve Scheutz’s excellent picture from Flickr, which nicely illustrates the scene.
By the 1880s, St. Peter’s turned its attention to quarrying black granite (technically, “subvolcanic diabase,” in case you were wondering). This quarry started in 1880 and didn’t reach bottom—over 100 feet below today’s water level—until 1970. Cookie tells me that the black granite from this quarry was used for the AT&T Building and the Whitney Museum in New York City. Ditto for the Franklin D. Roosevelt Memorial Library in Hyde Park, NY and many others. French Creek is also one of only three sources in the world for super-high quality black granite that can be used to make exceptionally stable and accurate industrial “surface plates,” used in producing aerospace systems and other precision equipment.
A hotel called Excursion House was built here in 1881. Now known as the Inn at St. Peter’s, it looks like a great place to stay for a longer visit.
And in case Cathy or Kim is interested in a visit, the town’s First Baptist Church will be happy to accommodate them.
My favorite place in the village proved to be the old general store that Cookie used to run—perhaps because it is now the St. Peter’s Bakery. Since it was 4:30 in the afternoon and I had skipped lunch, this was a mouthwatering sight. And I can objectively report that their coffee cake was the best I’ve ever had.
I made a point of driving through Birdsboro, PA, primariliy to see if Bridge Street—an odd little yellow brick road that turned sharply off of Route 345 in the middle of a tall bridge—could possibly still be there. (See From Amish to Nuclear: A Tour of the Lancaster, PA Area.) Veteran readers will remember this 2009 photo. At the time, I suggested that anyone wanting to see this turnoff should go sooner rather than later, since it threatened to collapse at any time. Well, I was right. Ninety percent of Bridge Street is gone, because it either fell down or was torn down in the process of building a new bridge across the Schuylkill River. Too bad.
Elsewhere in Birdsboro, I found St. Michael’s Episcopal Church after several tries. It was built in 1853 and was long considered one of the finest and most original of the Norman-Gothic churches in the country. Along with its striking design, it featured beautiful stained-glass windows and a Johnson & Son pipe organ with stenciled pipes. Unfortunately, church attendance dwindled as the Birdsboro Steel Corporation faltered, and the church closed its doors in 2002. A scandal erupted the following year when the Episcopal Diocese of Pennsylvania removed the windows, pipe organ, pews, and altar and some of these items appeared for sale on eBay. And that beautiful pipe organ? Cannibalized for parts. After several years, the ransacked church reopened as the First Baptist Church of Birdsboro. (Photo of original pipe organ courtesy of P.J. Murphy Organ Builders and Associates Inc.)
When I stopped to get the church photo above, two young fellows on bicycles came roaring up and peppered me with the usual questions, including “How fast will your car go?” I answered “150 miles per hour—but not here.” Then I asked them how fast their bicycles would go, and the younger one replied “forty hundred miles per hour” with great enthusiasm. (Okay, so we both exaggerated!)
Abraham Lincoln occasionally referred to “my Pennsylvania ancestors,” but it’s unlikely that he knew very much about them. His great-great-grandfather, Mordechai Lincoln, lived on the outskirts of Birdsboro. Against all odds, Mordechai’s stone house is still there (and in pretty good shape, following renovation in 1987). The righthand portion in this photo was built in 1733 and has a walk in fireplace that’s 7 feet wide. The other section was added in 1760. A separate summer kitchen was built in the early 1800s. Mordechai, incidentally, was partners in the Coventryville iron furnace with Samuel Nutt—Anna’s husband, in case you’re keeping track. He also served as a justice of the peace and militia captain.
This old aqueduct was part of the “Schuylkill Navigation” and carried the canal over Allegheny Creek from 1824 to 1928. It continued to hold water until 1967, when it was drained by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania to facilitate building a nearby road. It’s been largely neglected since then but does not appear to be deteriorating too rapidly.
Since I’d promised Cookie that I’d arrive by 7:00 PM, it was time to shortcut my route and head for Linfield, PA. There I found my welcoming bed & breakfast and a good dinner at a nearby restaurant. After all I’d seen so far in Chester County, could there be anything further for the next day?