It is probable that this house was used for a longer period than any other during the war for headquarters of Washington, as it was not until March of the following year after the evacuation of Boston by the British that it was again left empty. In this dwelling the generals met often to hold secret discussions. Representatives from the Legislature, then convened at Watertown, held here many long conferences concerning the advisability of different schemes to defeat the British, and many people of note from all over the world came here to meet Washington on both social and political affairs.

We are told that a "Twelfth Night" party was given in the drawing-room opposite the Longfellow study, where many entertainments took place, and that the oldest inhabitants were invited to this party. Down the stairs, where now stands the old grandfather's clock made famous by Longfellow's poems, the stately colonial dames of Revolutionary times came slowly, dressed in their silks and satins, with powdered hair and patches, to take part in the festivities within.

Longfellow's study, which is at the right of the house, and which to-day fronts the long conservatory occupying the entire side of the house, was used by Washington as his dining-room. Above it was his private office, where councils of war were held. It was a very convenient room for this purpose, being off from the main house, quiet and retired. When Longfellow first purchased the house, he also used this room for a study, afterwards converting it into a chamber.

It is said that Washington never permitted his affairs to destroy his sense of humor. During the time of his occupancy here, an elderly woman was brought before General Putnam. She was believed to be a spy, although she stoutly denied it. It is said that the general, familiarly known as "Put," regarded the case of sufficient importance to be brought to the attention of his commander and insisted that she come with him to headquarters. She was an obstinate woman, and having no fear of capture, resented his treatment, absolutely refusing to enter the gate to the grounds. In vain was she reasoned with until at last, in desperation, the valiant general slung her on his back and brought her up to the house. As Washington witnessed his most courageous officer entering his house in this manner, he could not refrain from laughter, which only incensed the woman all the more.

During conferences at headquarters, great care had to be taken lest they be surprised by the British. While one of these conferences was being held, word was sent out that the British were on their way. Without a moment's delay each officer hurried for his necessary adjuncts to meet the emergency. In the midst of the confusion, however, General Greene lost his head and could be heard above the din, calling loudly: "My wig, my wig; where is my wig?" His demand was so emphatic that the attention of the little group was instantly seized. General Lee was the first to regain his composure and with ready wit called out in an equally loud voice: "Behind the looking-glass, General." Greene, passing the mirror, found to his consternation that the wig was on his head. Overjoyed that he was not to go into battle wigless, he joined in the general laugh that followed. The report of the British approach proved false, however, and the officers returned to their consultation.

After the estate had been confiscated, it was purchased by one Nathaniel Tracy, an intimate of Washington, whose principal home was in Newburyport, Massachusetts. Tracy was a very wealthy merchant, indeed one of the most brilliant financiers in the country, and his spectacular ventures had given him a prominent name in local history. Tracy was a large landowner, having estates practically all over the country, and while he owned the Vassall house, he rarely lived there, using it simply as a place where he could spend week-ends if he so desired.

Andrew Craigie was the next prominent owner of the house, purchasing it on January 1, 1793. At that time the grounds had been enlarged until they comprised one hundred and fifty acres, a part of which is now used for the Harvard Observatory. This Craigie was an "apothecary-general" or, as he would be known now, a commissary, for the Continental army. He was a most eccentric man but clever enough to acquire a large estate. This house appealed to him, both from the fact that it had been Washington's headquarters and from its own beauty both of exterior and interior. He married a Miss Shaw of Nantucket, who had been in love with a young sailor of limited means. The wealth of Craigie dazzled her, and while she never forgot her early lover, treasuring his love letters until just before her death, she made a charming mistress for the mansion.

Craigie, like other wealthy men of his time, was pretentious and spent money lavishly. While it is believed that he built the service department on the western wing of the house, yet this is not definitely known. During his occupancy, the large, square, eastern room was enlarged and adorned with many columns to afford more space for his frequent entertainments. Prominent merchants of Boston and many noted people accepted his hospitality. An amusing instance is told of a visit of Talleyrand, who conversed entirely in French with Mrs. Craigie, the host not understanding a word that was spoken. It is currently reported that the Duke of Kent, Queen Victoria's father, who for a long time was stationed at Halifax, paid a visit here; impressed with the honor, Craigie afterwards purchased the coach and horses the duke had used in Boston.

Craigie built the bridge from Boston to East Cambridge which bears his name and engaged in many investments. He speculated once too often, however, and lost nearly all of his money. He died soon after, but his widow remained in the same house, yet under such reduced circumstances that she was obliged to let rooms to college students. Two of these were Edward Everett and Jared Sparks, who afterwards brought their brides here.

Later on, when Henry Wadsworth Longfellow left Bowdoin College to take a position as professor in Harvard University, and desired extensive apartments, he appealed to her. She at first refused him, having tired of the care of students and not wishing to let rooms any longer. He was an attractive and agreeable young man, and when Mrs. Craigie learned that he was a professor, she invited him to visit the different rooms, telling him of Washington's connection with the house, but informing him that he could not have the use of any of the apartments. At length, however, after a long controversy, she agreed to let him take the southeast chamber, to which was afterwards added the west front chamber for his dining-room.

At that time the back part of the house was given over to a farmer and his wife, the latter caring for Longfellow's rooms and supplying his meals. During a part of the time that Longfellow had rooms here, Worcester, who wrote the dictionary, was another occupant. To this house came Cornelius G. Felton, Charles Sumner, and many others to visit Longfellow, who in 1842 entertained Charles Dickens here.

In 1843 Longfellow bought the house of Mrs. Craigie. He was the last occupant, and every room in the house is connected with him. In one of the upper chambers Hyperion was written, as were many other poems, including The Courtship of Miles Standish and Hiawatha.

To this mansion one pleasant day in June came Hawthorne to dine with Longfellow, bringing with him his friend, Horace Conelly. On reaching the house, to Hawthorne's surprise and chagrin, he found two other visitors, George S. Hillard and Professor Felton of Harvard College. Hawthorne had hoped in this visit to review with Longfellow old times in Brunswick and the history of some of his class of whom he had lost sight since leaving college. After the departure of the other guests, Longfellow, Hawthorne, and Conelly held an animated conversation on their literary work. At this time the story of the French Acadian girl, just married, exiled and separated from her husband, was told. Hawthorne had never been interested, but Longfellow saw in it a popular theme and with permission wrote the poem that has been considered one of his best works.

The Longfellow house faces the main road, a large, square mansion with entrance porch. The grounds are now reduced to a small area surrounding the house and are pleasantly laid out in gardens and lawns. The main door bears a ponderous knocker, and one enters a wide, dignified hallway. On the first landing of the staircase stands the old grandfather's clock so familiar to all readers of Longfellow's poems. The principal room open to the public is the library, which leads from the right of the hall, a square room finished in brown and containing many mementoes that were there during Longfellow's lifetime. This room has been left practically unchanged. Over the fireplace is a beautiful girandole, with convex glass and gilt frame and ebony rim inside. This is said to have been made in 1800—an heirloom. There are many fine old pieces of furniture, each one of which bespeaks some event connected with the poet's life. The furniture is not old-fashioned and no attempt has been made to keep it up to any period. It is simply left as a memorial in the room where Longfellow sat and wrote and received his friends.

The grounds cover scarcely half an acre, but the mansion with a few modern improvements remains as it was in the early days when it was first built by John Vassall.

CHAPTER XXI

In 1635 William Coddington and his fellow associates received a grant of five hundred acres at Braintree, now Quincy, Massachusetts, extending from the old Dorchester line at Squantum to Howe's Neck, and about a mile inland. This was a goodly tract of land, with level meadows that promised good plowing. The next year, in the heart of the grant, Mr. Coddington built a house that consisted of a large kitchen, a living-room, and two chambers. Near him was a small colony of settlers, including Reverend John Wheelwright, Anne Hutchinson, and Sir Harry Vane. They composed a congenial group of free thinkers, who met often in the Coddington kitchen to sit around the large open fireplace, while they discussed religious views much more liberal than the Puritan's way of thinking. Many of them, for holding these views, were banished to Rhode Island.

Coddington did not live long after the house-building, and was succeeded by Edmund Quincy, the first of the name to live in what is now known as the Quincy homestead. He was a man of considerable wealth and importance, coming here from Boston and bringing with him six servants, which was considered a most pretentious establishment in those days. His wife, named Judith, was a woman of great ability, and after the death of her husband, managed the estate with good judgment. Her daughter, also named Judith, married John Hull, the mint-master, and became the mother of Hannah Hull. Hannah became the wife of Judge Samuel Sewall, and as the story runs, received for her dowry her weight in pine-tree shillings.

The second of the name of Quincy to occupy this house was also named Edmund and afterwards received the title of colonel. He was a man of dignified personality and forceful character and had held at various times most of the important offices in the town. His death in 1698 was followed by that of his wife, two years later, and the reins of government fell into the hands of Edmund third, then a youth of twenty. The responsibility made the latter a very thoughtful man. He became more distinguished than either his father or his grandfather, passing nearly his whole life in public service. It was this Edmund who, in his twenty-first year, married Dorothy Flynt, the first Dorothy Q. of history, and ancestress of all the other Dorothy Q's.

In 1706, as the house had become too small for the family, Quincy built additions at the front of the old mansion, giving it its present appearance. The rooms added were the present dining-room, the parlor, and the chambers above these rooms. With the raising of the new part, little attempt was made to have the dimensions match, so that the rooms of the older building showed a different floor level from those at the front.

Later on, a two-story ell was added near the brook, consisting of a study and bedroom. These were occupied by Dorothy's brother, Henry Flynt, who was the famous Tutor Flynt of Harvard.

Of the children born to Edmund, third, and Dorothy Q., two are well known in history. Edmund, the fourth, who married Elizabeth Wendell and became the father of the Dorothy Q. who married John Hancock, and the Dorothy Q., "My Dorothy," as Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes called her, who married Edward Jackson, and was the great-grandmother of the poet.

After the death of Judge Quincy, the house was not used as a permanent residence by the family, for Edmund, who inherited it, had a fine home in Boston. It was kept open, however, and used at frequent intervals as a summer place. We read of large parties coming down by coach and horseback from Boston, to be entertained at the Quincy mansion. Many a pretty bit of romance has been enacted within these walls, and many a famous traveler has found shelter in this house.

When the wedding of Dorothy Q. to John Hancock was planned, preparations suitable for the important event were made, and a wall-paper was ordered from Paris to be hung upon the walls of the parlor. This room was destined not to be used, however, for the purpose intended. The Revolution broke out and Hancock was forced to flee for safety to Lexington. Here he was joined by his aunt, Madam Hancock, and Dorothy, on the memorable "18th of April, '75." Dorothy, fearing the approach of the Redcoats, desired to return to Boston, to seek refuge in her father's house, but her lover knew only too well the hatred of the Tory for the Quincy family that had been shown when a British soldier thrust his rapier through the portrait of Dorothy Q., the niece of this Dorothy, and he forbade the attempted journey. Wishing to assert her independence and also to have her own way, Dorothy insisted, and a lovers' quarrel ensued. Hancock and Samuel Adams were forced to make their escape to Woburn, with Madam Hancock and Dorothy, who continued on to Fairfield, Connecticut, taking up their abode in the family of Thaddeus Burr. In consequence, the Quincy mansion did not see them again for a long time. The patriot troops were stationed at Fairfield, and Aaron Burr, meeting Dorothy, fell in love with her. He paid her such serious attention that Madam Hancock became alarmed for the consequences and sent to her nephew, explaining the situation.

John Hancock was a wise lover and wrote Dorothy immediately, asking her if she had made him the hair chain promised and reproaching her for her unfaithfulness, sending with the letter a box of silk stockings. Dorothy, with little liking for his interference, continued her flirtation with Lieutenant Burr; again Madam Hancock wrote to her nephew in such a peremptory manner that during a recess of Congress he came to Fairfield. Once there, he swept away all resentment, and Dorothy became his wife on August 28.

Sir Harry Frankland, previous to this, came to the Quincy Mansion bringing with him Agnes Surriage, and a merry house party spent part of the time catching trout from the little black brook and cooking them in the old kitchen fireplace.

Benjamin Franklin was also a visitor at this house, accepting the hospitality shown him by Mr. Quincy, and sending in return a stove, still shown in one of the chambers. A Flemish grape-vine was also sent by him to the family; this took root and until a few years ago was in thriving condition. Many other men of note came as visitors to this noted mansion, including Lafayette, who was entertained here when he returned to America after the Revolution.

During the Revolutionary period, the house passed out of the hands of the Quincy family. It has been recently restored by the Colonial Dames of Massachusetts, who have brought back as far as possible its old-time dignity. In the restoration, great care has been taken with the furnishing. The central hall is entered through the colonial porch. It is long and wide, wainscotted and showing above this an odd, colonial paper, representing an English hunting scene. The baluster and newel-post are hand carved and fine examples of the early work of that period.

On the opposite side of the house is the parlor, which still shows the old wall-paper intended to grace the wedding of John Hancock to Dorothy Quincy. Here are Venuses and Cupids in vivid blue, with garlands of red flowers, all as fresh as when first hung. The panel front of the chimney-piece was recently removed, and the original fireplace, fifteen feet wide, discovered. The back of this chimney is curiously bricked in herring-bone pattern. Many interesting relics are kept in one of the cupboards. There is a parasol which once belonged to Mrs. Hancock, a shoe of a little son who died in childhood, a pipe filler which belonged to John Hancock, Edmund Quincy third's baptismal robe and cap, and a piece of the dress worn by Abigail Adams when she was presented at the Court of St. James. On the wall hangs her portrait showing the same gown.

Back of the dining-room, and one step lower, is the old kitchen, built in 1636, the most interesting room in the house, containing a great many household articles of early colonial days. The broad, hand-hewn beams bear the marks of the axe, and the great fireplace is flanked on one side by larger brick ovens and on the other by a secret passage. Back of the chimney is a ladder which leads to the secret closet above, also a little dumbwaiter shaft, through which food and water could be sent to the people in hiding.

In previous years, an underground passage led out of the kitchen to the brook. Through this contraband goods were smuggled. The entrance to this passage has now disappeared, so that the exact locality is not definitely known.

The window glass was made at the first glass factory in America. This was erected by a guild of Hollanders who had established themselves in Quincy. The worthies of Quincy objected to the large families of the emigrants, and they were driven out and moved to Maine. The first iron foundry in this country was built beside this brook, which was sometimes known as Furnace Brook.

Above the kitchen is the Coddington Chamber, named for the original builder of the house and fittingly furnished with rare pieces of the colonial period. Above this is a very low attic, lighted from the upper panes of the chamber windows and reached by the secret passage behind the chimney. At the further end of this attic is a trap-door connecting with a second attic, through which one could escape by galleries below the dormer windows, and thence reach the ground.

Across the hall is a smaller room known as the nursery. Tradition has it that John Hancock concealed himself from the British in this apartment, making use of the secret passageway. On one of the window-panes is scratched with a diamond the initials, "J. H." and again in handwriting similar to his: "You I love and you alone." In this room are preserved the breakfast-table of John Hancock; a linen chest which belonged to the wife of William Penn; various articles of clothing that at one time were used by the Quincy family; a bed spread hand-embroidered on homespun linen quilted by Madam Burr and used in her guest chamber when Dorothy Quincy was staying at her house.

Over the dining-room is the Quincy room, so named from the fact that many of the Quincy children, including the two Dorothys, were born here. By a curious trick of fate, there still remains here a nail-studded chest which once belonged to George III of England, bearing the date 1790. One wonders, if the old chest could speak, whether it would pour vituperations upon the heads of those who brought the possessions of the tyrant to the colonies, to be stored in the Quincy mansion.

Across the hall is the guest chamber with its canopied Field bed, and the little trundle-bed underneath, used in the olden times for the children of the family. The Franklin stove, presented by the inventor, is also in this room. Opening from it, and approached by a second staircase, we find the chamber of Tutor Flynt, here the recessed bed is an interesting feature. The room is furnished with fine pieces of the olden times.

Every room in this house contains mementoes of the days of long ago. The house was one of the first to be built on American soil, and has sheltered some of our most important citizens. To-day it reminds us of the past, carrying us back to the earliest days of our country's history.

CHAPTER XXII

These Middletons and the family into which they married have been makers of history. They date back to the time of Charles V, of France, being among his followers. The name was originally St. Etienne, but for valiant services it was changed to deWolf. The Middletons have played an important part both in English and American history, and the English branch of the family still occupies its ancient Middleton Hall. The American line starts with the immigrant ancestor, Henry Middleton, who settled in Carolina and became a considerable landowner at a time when there were only three states in the Union—New England, Virginia, and the Carolinas. This is shown in the old atlas inherited from the immigrant ancestor and still treasured at "Hey Bonnie Hall." Henry Middleton became a politician and was an important agitator before the Revolution. For his distinguished services he was made president of the Continental Congress. He was not the only member of the family whose name has been handed down in history. His son Arthur was also very prominent and was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. The name "Hey Bonnie Hall," given to their country-seat in the Carolinas and transferred to the Rhode Island mansion, grew out of a pretty custom of Mrs. Middleton, who used to sing a little Scotch song called Hey Bonnie Hall over and over again to please her grandfather.

The house stands back from the road, being approached through a broad, colonial gateway flanked on either side by beds of old-fashioned flowers. The semicircular drive is shaded by magnificent trees, which hide the mansion from the main road so effectively that it is not until one is half-way up the avenue that a glimpse of the house is obtained.

Old-fashioned flower-beds are scattered here and there over the smooth lawn, making a landscape picture that is most alluring. The entrance door opens into a spacious hallway that is about twenty feet in width. The staircase at the left is five feet in width, an unusual breadth, even for one of that period. It has treads of solid mahogany, with simple but substantial balusters on either side, topped with mahogany rails. This hall is used for a living-room and a hall combined and is well lighted by doors on either side showing well-proportioned fan and sidelights. Like many halls of the colonial period, there is a groined arch. This was specially designed by one of the Middletons who married Henry deWolf. This is supported at the corners by slender white columns, the woodwork being white pine.

In every room are found examples of the most impressive pieces of furniture designed by the old masters. Many were originally in the Southern home and brought over by their immigrant ancestor. Among them are some most artistic pieces, including Hepplewhite, Sheraton, and Chippendale. Two chairs of the latter make show shell pattern, one of the most popular of Chippendale's designs. Upon the Chippendale sideboard are specimens of thirteenth century silver, including some tiny spoons that date back to the Tudor period, and saltcellars engraved with the McGregor crest. In the china closet are rare specimens of Lowestoft, Chelsea, and Sevres, while on the wall are hung original Stuarts, and paintings by Benjamin West. In many colonial mansions of that period we find the well-designed windows opening off the broad landing, a feature which has been cleverly introduced into the Middleton mansion. The type and characteristics of this entrance hall are more in keeping with Southern architecture than are most houses of New England. There is little ornamental woodwork, but a great dignity and charm.

Two large, square rooms open on either side of the hallway, and the arrangement of the interior is on the exact lines followed in Southern manor-houses, a wing being introduced on either side of the main building. One of these is used for kitchen and servants' quarters; the opposite wing, connected with the house proper by a covered passageway, is used as a carriage-house and harness-room. This gives the house interesting and unusual proportions.

In the main building are two rooms, one on either side of the hall. At the right is the large living-room, and back of it the dining-room, both of which are filled with treasures,—wonderful old pieces that have been in the family since its earliest days, each having its individual story.

On the left are the double drawing-rooms and showing an elliptical arch that has a frieze motif with dentation ornamentation and reeded pilasters. The dividing arch is gracefully ended in the cornice. This is a feature in many colonial homes and is generally echoed in other rooms of the house. There are no carved wooden fire-frames in the lower story, but we find some of foreign marble that were set at the time the house was built. This is an unusual feature in houses of that date, where wooden mantels and elaborate hand-carving were the prevailing style.

Many pieces of furniture are historic. Some belonged to President Adams, an intimate friend of the deWolfs, who were frequent visitors at the Adams house in Quincy, Massachusetts. Over the fireplace is a charming portrait, the work of a master, showing a child in an early eighteenth-century gown. It pictures Mrs. Nathaniel Russell Middleton, when only six years of age. About the time of this painting she was visiting her uncle, and was present at the reconciliation of Lafayette and President Adams, which occurred during Lafayette's second visit to America. She was at that time a very beautiful child and attracted the attention of the general, who finding she was of French descent, took her in his arms and kissed her.

Every piece of furniture here is of the old-time type. The Hepplewhite chairs have been handed down from generation to generation, as has a great deal of the furniture that is used in this room, including the chair in which President Adams died.

The long, or east room leads out of the parlor and is filled with rare furniture. The most important piece being the French piano, one of the earlier makes. This was imported by Henry deWolf for his daughter Alicia. It was considered of such fine quality that it attracted the attention of celebrated musicians all over the country. Pianos in those days were rarely seen, for the old-time harpsichord and spinet had scarcely gone out of style. Even to-day it would be considered a wonderful piece of work, with its ornamentations of gold showing scroll patterns and musical designs.

Directly above the piano is hung the most famous picture in the house, a Madonna supposedly by the hand of the Italian master Mazzuoli, better known as Parmigiana. This Madonna was originally known as one of the world's lost art treasures, since its whereabouts were unknown for several years. There exists abundant historical evidence of its value, and prominent artists have pointed out the merits and the peculiarities that stamp this canvas as a Parmigiana, although definite proof is lacking.

The interior of the house is most interesting from an architectural standpoint. The proportions are well balanced, there is a dignity of design and a care in its finish that attracts experts. The value lies not so much in the workmanship as in the choice bits of design shown principally in the exterior, and that are well worth introducing into a twentieth-century home.

The upper hall has an elliptical arched window and a hand-carved balustrade. It is of the same proportions as the lower hall, and it, too, is fitted up as a living-room. Beautiful pieces of furniture are well chosen and well placed. A large bookcase showing torch ornamentations contains rare books that cannot be duplicated. In each one is a bookplate, the work of Henry Middleton. A certain charm pervades the second story of this mansion, which does not lie in the furnishing but in the architectural details of the window, the pilasters, the hand-carving of the balusters, all of which are simple but unusual.

Large, square chambers open from either side of the hallway, and like the rest of the house are furnished in seventeenth-century pieces. The fireplace, decorated with bow and arrow design, is of Scaglioni composition and was found in an Italian palace. The furniture of this room is unusually rare. There is not a single piece of ordinary make.

The bed is a fine example of Sheraton, showing a tester, and decorated in gilt bows and arrows brought out clearly on the white enamel. This bed, showing the cupid pattern, was purchased for the first bride of the Middleton house. It has within recent years been repainted, but the pattern kept intact. Unique are the drapings of this bed, the counterpane being very rich gold and white satin lined with white and edged with French lace. The same idea has been carried out in flounce and hangings. The chairs are also rare examples of Sheraton, and follow the color scheme of the room.

A second chamber in this house has a fine four-poster imported from Leghorn at the time when the house was built. It is a Chippendale and one of the best examples of that master's designs. A painting in this room is very valuable, being a picture of Lady Mornington, the mother of Wellington. It was painted by her daughter, Lady Berghurst, who posed her model with a gazette in her hand containing an account of the battle of Waterloo.

A most interesting collection of furniture belonging to the deWolfs shows earmarks of the old masters' designs kept in the group of houses that were built by this distinguished family. The most prominent being the house of Charles deWolf. It was a large, square structure with roof sloping on all sides, and containing low-studded and spacious rooms that were heated by fireplaces only. An odd feature of this house were the hallways, running at right angles and meeting in the center. Spanish furniture, richly carved and showing odd patterns, vied with French pieces in magnificence.

The walls of the double drawing-rooms were hung with paper showing birds of paradise in brilliant plumage. Between the two rooms were gorgeous portières of gold and silver damask. On state occasions the table bore solid silver candelabra and goblets of gold, spoils of the early siege of Oyapoc.

Here General Knox of Revolutionary fame was a frequent visitor. After his death the splendid estate of ten square miles given him by Congress and situated in Maine was sold, and much of the beautiful furniture was introduced into the deWolf house.

A third house, which was destroyed by fire, was built by Captain Jim, the youngest son of old Mark Anthony deWolf, who built the first house for his family in Bristol. The builder was a most successful merchant, his estate at one time comprising nearly the whole eastern part of the town. The mansion was built at about the same time as "Hey Bonnie Hall." It is of plain exterior with simple lines and shows fine proportions.

Inside are twenty-eight rooms that were fitted up with the choicest pieces of Chippendale, Hepplewhite, and Sheraton. So wealthy was the house owner that when the fashion changed from English to French, and the Empire style came into vogue, this furniture was replaced by examples of the best designs and construction, including both European and American styles. Many of these pieces were worthy a museum.

On the walls were wonderful portraits by Copley, Stuart, Thompson, Alexander, and many other famous artists, as well as miniatures by Malbone and Hall. In many of these rooms the walls were decorated with veritable works of art.

These old colonial houses with their beauty of line, their harmony of detail, and their air of dignity, richly repay study by architects and house owners. More and more we turn to them as models for our modern homes. They are a rich heritage from one of the most important periods of the nation's history, and will ever be cherished for the memories they evoke. Truly American in every respect, they will remain forevermore as revelations of the sturdy spirit, the breadth of mind, the gracious hospitality, and the fine ideals of our forefathers who built them.

INDEX