CHAPTER VIII

Washington, D. C.

WHEN two of the three families came to Washington, this eastern migration was led, as the western movement had been by my father. Henceforth six of the eleven grandchildren were to live east and six of them were to marry mates from east of the Mississippi River, four of the five who stayed west were to marry west of the Mississippi River. One Sade was not to marry at all.

Washington afforded a larger field of activity and a greater variety of interest to my father and Uncle Scott.

Men who had held their own in the pioneer days of the west had no trouble getting along in any part of the east. The people who filled up the west in the early days were no weaklings.

And as life was full of interest for them west, so it was east. The coming east was almost accidental.

My father, when he came to the Department of Agriculture, had no idea of settling in Washington, but fully expected to return west after four years.

While in Washington, Uncle Scott came to visit him and they decided to settle here, and little wonder. Washington, D.C., was then, in the year 1886, a more enchanting and delightful city than it is now by far. The elevator was almost unknown, so no buildings were higher than the tree tops. The streets were wide and lined with trees, and green parking. The city gave the appearance of a vast park. The Capitol, White House, Washington Monument were as today, but since then the automobile has come; thousands of. lovely trees have been cut down, and parking space absorbed by increased width of streets and a greater area of concrete and asphalt pavement to add to the heat and to decrease the beauty of the City.

When I recall Washington from 1885 to 1905, or see pictures of it then, and see it now, I am reminded of old Samuel Johnson’s remark to Boswell after returning home from an excursion into a hospital in search of definitions and information, "Boswell, I saw a woman skinned today, and my word, you have no idea what a difference it made in her appearance !"

Besides its leafy avenues and streets, it was what the Founding Fathers had in mind—the Capital of a great nation; the seat of government. There was a very small business element. The languor of the old South was about it. It still had its "magnificent distances", now all too crowded.

The public men were of a high type. In Senate and House were many who had gone through the furnace of the Civil War, men of character and ability. Life was pleasant in Washington. The education of his children and the superior advantages offered in Washington were the chief motive with Uncle Scott.

So hither came six of us grandchildren. Of the long, long thoughts of youth I cannot write, and the sweet mystery of love’s young dream, and of the ecstasy of the six romances only one is known to me—my own.

After settling in Washington, we attended the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church. Rev. Wm. A. Bartlet was its eloquent and able pastor. There was a splendid Young Peoples’ Society, organized before the "Christian Endeavor" was started. I joined it, to my great future advantage, for through it I found the best wife in the whole world.

One night the young people gave a moonlight excursion down the Potomac River to Indian Head and return. Louise Taylor, now Dr. Louise Taylor Jones, M. D., one of the leading baby specialists of the city, took me over to a group and introduced me to a party of young people from LeDroit Park. I do not recall the names of them, except one—Clara Ford. There she sat, just as smiling and serene and good natured and good looking a girl as I had ever seen, or ever wanted to see, and that night I knew who was the one girl in all the world for me, jf I could get her, which seemed also then one of the most unlikely things imaginable. That was in 1886.

A little over six years after that moonlight excursion, Clara and I were married in the New York Avenue Church on January 10, 1893. Clara’s mother gave her a big wedding; Waldecker music, Gude flowers, Jarvis, the caterer. It was as cold a night as Washington often experiences. I recall how the carriage wheels sung on the hard fine snow. A big reception, flowers galore, and many presents we yet have and prize. We went to Richmond, Virginia, and there a few days later took a sleigh ride out into the country, a very unusual thing for Richmond.

Grace was the first one of the six grandchildren going East to get married. She married Radcliff Hordern, an Englishman, who had a place near Alexandria, Virginia, and very close to Belmont. They were married in "Belmont", near Alexandria. I was at that time in Newport News, Va., but the reports of the wedding were that it was a very beautiful one. The big house was decorated with autumn leaves and fall flowers, especially chrysanthemums.

Harrison Nesbit married Edith Caroline Herron—’ "Pretty Edith Herron" she was called by young and old who knew her. She had beauty and style and ability, as her management of "Alwiniton" shows. To manage over a thousand-acre farm is no easy task. It was a quiet home wedding. Clara and I were there with the families.

Walter married Miss Beulah Brush; a quiet wedding at Calvary Baptist Church, with afterwards a dinner and reception.

Edith’s wedding and Don’s I recall with greater distinctness as to the details than any others, including my own.

Edith was married at Alwington, where she had been relieving Aunt Nettie of the household management for some years. A most competent housekeeper she was. So when she was to be married to Laz Noble, of Indianapolis, Uncle Scott determined to make Alwington the scene of a wedding in tune with the traditions of Virginia hospitality. The house was beautifully decorated and the Alwington table was spread in a style to enhance still further, the repute of Virginia hospitality in general and that of Alwington in particular. Uncle Scott thought Virginia Hospitality demanded some concession from his rule of no alcoholic liquors, and Don and I were commissioned to make the punch. We made one and made it right— or as the slang of today put it, "made it, and how !" We had no recipe, but just made it.

Uncle Scott, from the gifts of friends who visited Alwington, accumulated an assortment of very fine liquors. He never bought a bottle in his life so far as I know. He stored them away and on rare occasions, like Christmas or New Years, he brought out a little. He gave us the keys to the compartment containing this assortment the morning of the wedding.

One of the guests that day was "Bob" Lee. Big Bob Lee was his proper appellation. He was a descendant of the Great Lees and lived with his mother at "Ravensworth". Bob weighed then about 300 pounds and was as good humored as a spring morning.

Bob pronounced the punch the best he ever tasted, and he paid tribute to its quality by bringing a procession of young ladies up to drink a toast to the happy couple.

Bob carried his liquor well, like all true Virginia gentlemen always did. But as his tongue grew loose and thick, his laughter and talk flowed like a mountain torrent.

Uncle Scott’s accumulated stock suffered a sad depletion that day. The punch was made of several quarts of Sauterne wine as a base, some orange brandy, some old rye whiskey, some rich port wine and some French brandy. It was potable and potent. I do not think any who sampled that punch ever quite forgot its mellowing authority. It certainly added to the happy occasion, and that no finer punch was ever tasted in Virginia was the verdict of men who are authorities on such matters.

Don’s wedding was at our home, 1801 Phelps Place, N. W., Washington, D. C., and I have a copy of the letter I wrote describing it to the relatives, and I also put a copy into the circulating letter of the Wrights. Don called me up the last day of the year, and broke the news. He was thinking of "Just a quiet ceremony"—the where and how of it he wanted to come up and talk over, but the letter written soon after will tell the story and will give the younger generation a picture perhaps of how we enjoyed life on occasions before many of them were born.

My Dear Cousins:

I wrote you about the old-fashioned country Christmas we enjoyed so much down with Uncle Scott at Warrenton, Virginia. We had a royal time and I told you of how we got the Christmas tree and about the big twenty-six-pound turkey, and the names of all seventeen of the family who were present, etc., and now, almost immediately I have another piece of real news, an event which occurred on New Year’s Day in the City of Washington—right at the headquarters of the nation. I don’t know as President Woodrow Wilson’s example had anything to do with it, but it kept us stirring our stumps and in a state of exuberant excitement for several happy hours.

In honor of Donald’s chosen calling in Uncle Sam’s Navy and with apologies to Richard Henry Dana and Captain Marryat, I will spin you the yarn in some detail.

Towards the end of the first dog watch, for three bells had struck on New Year’s Eve, I had a telephone call; on answering, I heard the voice of Lieutenant Donald Nesbit, U. S. N. He said (I am giving you a liberal translation): "Ship ahoy!

"Is this you, Charles ?" "Aye, aye !" said I, "and everything’s snug. How be ye

Somewhat excited he replies :— "Shipmate, I want to see you; I have a message of importance aboard." "Aye, aye U’ says I, "Steer a straight course for 1801 Phelps Place and board by the forward gangplank."

It was a foggy night, not much wind but plenty of weather, so I put Frank on the lookout and sent word to the galley to lay another plate in the Cabin Mess.

Well, in a short time Lieutenant Donald hove in sight, yellow kid gloves and a yellow walking stick and as fine and hearty a specimen of sailor-man as you want to see.

"Come aboard, mate," says I. "Aye, aye! my hearty," says he. "What’s the news," says I, the whole crew standing at attention. "I am going to get married tomorrow," says he, speaking up clear as a fog horn. "Bully boy !" cried the crew, breaking all bounds of discipline, grasping his hand, slapping him on the back and such like attentions.

The holiday festivities were on, so I said: "Where are you going to have the knot tied?" "Oh, some place handy," says he, just as careless as a policeman. "There’s just one handy place then and that’s the parlor downstairs," says I. "Nothing could suit me better," says he.

"Have you your license ?" says I, for, having been through it myself, I know the various steps of approach to the final plunge. At that he sat bolt upright and stared as though he saw a submarine. "Shiver my timbers, mate." says he, "I forgot all about it!" "Well, mate," says I, "you can’t set sail on the Matrimonial Sea without proper clearance papers, but come in to supper and we will see what can be done’ after we have a bite to eat." "But it’s a holiday tomorrow and the offices will be closed tight as a fresh caulked seam," says he. "Oh, well, mate," says I, "there is always plenty of sea room if you know how to navigate properly." So we had supper and hardly able to eat our grub for asking questions and answering them—all about the lady and the why and the how and the wherefore.

Eight bells was striking as we came up the companion way to the smoking room on the second deck. I calls up the Captain of the Marriage License Office. He was a crusty old customer. "The hatch is closed till Monday morning watch," says the Old Captain, very gruff. I explains as how my mate had just come ashore and found the office closed and had orders to sail on New Year’s Day at 4 P. M. But it’s no go. The Old Captain wouldn’t budge, so I tries another tack.

One of the Supreme Court Judges is a particular friend of mine. So I calls him up and pipes him off to the lay. He says he’ll send his orderly to issue the papers. The orderly is called by the landsman, I think, "Clerk of the Equity Court When I called him up he said he was due just then to go to a New Year’s Eve watch, but would talk business on New Year’s Day at 10:30 A. M., and that anyway the Old Captain (Clerk of the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia is his exact title) must give his consent before he can sign the clearance papers. I decided to wait till morning before tackling the Old Captain again. So the Lieutenant starts off wondering if he can find a jewelry store open and get a ring New Year’s Day. I cheered him up about the clearance papers and my first mate, Frank, slaps him on the back and says, "Old Top, everything will leave the ways on schedule time tomorrow, and it sure will be a good start for the New Year." "Right !" says the Lieutenant, "I believe you, and I will turn into my bunk now and stand by for a call in the morning."

Well, New Year’s morning I orders up a taxiboat and navigates over to the Old Clerk’s house. I decided to sail due North by South in dealing with him the second time. I sends in my card—officia1 card—and very formal, and I says to the maid at the door, "The Superintendent of Insurance presents his compliments to the Clerk ‘of the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia and wishes a word with him." Down comes the Old Clerk, clearing his throat for a fight. I greets him smiling and I say, "First. I want to wish you a Happy New Year", and holds out my hand.

He stiffens up and says, "I am obliged to you." Still smiling, I say, "Secondly, I want to apologize for disturbing you last night after you had finished a long hard year’s work."

"Oh, that’s all right !" said he, smiling a very feeble smile, "Judge Trueman’s clerk is willing to go and issue the license for the Lieutenant, but he says he will not do it unless you give your consent," says I, speaking very loud. As this was an easy way out, he gave a sigh of relief and says, "Oh I that will be entirely satisfactory.

He had simply set himself and was determined that he was not going to open the office himself nor order any one else to open it, and I sympathize with him, as he is called up, they tell me, all hours of the night and on Sundays to issue marriage licenses.

We then went as fast as the taxiboat could go to the Cairo and called up the Lieutenant, then hurried to the residence of the orderly, where we arrived at 10:30 New Year’s Day. He had not yet had his breakfast, but was in mighty good humor. A little after eleven we reached the City Hall.

As we mounted the steps, says I to the Lieutenant, "What’s giving you the list to starboard ?" (My apologies to Hon. Josephus Daniels.) "Ain’t I trim ?" says he. "Considerable list to starboard," says I. "Oh! it’s the rings," says he, and he pulls out a bag containing about two teacups full of gold wedding rings. "You see, mate," says he, "‘I didn’t know her exact size, so I took the whole stock of the only store I could find open."

I had already called up the Reverend John Van Schaick, Jr., who said he would be at the house at noon. As soon as the license was issued, and it was the first one issued in the City of Washington in 1916, we had a second taxiboat ready and the Lieutenant hurried off to get Miss Nancy May Pike and began trying on the rings as they made for 1801 Phelps Place.

First Mate Frank and I headed for the florist’s Adolph’ Gude, a Masonic friend of mine. I gave him the proper sign and he immediately got busy. Says I, "I want a bride’s bouquet of white roses and gardenias." "Aye, aye I" says he, "when’s the wedding ?" "At twelve o’clock today," says I. "Jumpin’ mackerel and dog fish! it’s 11:40 now," says he. "I congratulate you on the accuracy of your chronometer," says I, looking at him steadily and determined. He calls out, "Hey, lads! six of you to the forward deck !" He puts all six to work making up the bride’s bouquet.

But the most serious difficulty of all was yet to be surmounted. ‘The Lieutenant wasn’t a bank even if he is paymaster in the U. S. Navy, and what with paying for the heavy stock of wedding rings he had aboard and the numerous taxi-boats, he was short of enough money to see him through a trip to New York. In fact, as I figured it, the Lieutenant was apt to be as short of cash at noon as he had been of licenses or wedding rings at daybreak. But, mind you, he had secured the right girl, and as the Sky Pilot said afterwards,’ "that’s all a man should be expected to do about his own wedding."

The banks were all closed and the stores, and I never have more than $25.00 in cash at once on my person, so I sent out an S. 0. S. call and found my old friend, Billy Montgomery, down at work in the office of the Masonic’ Mutual Life Association. Leaving the flower ship, I hurried over there and got the necessary cash at once. The bride’s bouquet was a beauty and we set sail in the taxiboat with it aboard just three minutes before twelve. I am afraid we broke the speed regulations— as we passed the Russian Legation on Sixteenth Street, the Cossack guard standing out in front must have thought we were German plotters and were frightened at the sight of their fierce whiskers and glittering swords.

The preacher man was ready with his robes on in the parlor. Edith, Grace and Scott arrived on the morning train from Warrenton, so a ‘few minutes after twelve the wedding ceremony was performed in our parlor.

It was a beautiful wedding and an unusually fine looking couple they made. Then, after a little while, we all went to the Shoreham Hotel for the wedding breakfast, two taxiboat loads of us. The head waiter put the bride’s bouquet in the center of the table and we had a jolly time, and if that first breakfast is a sample of ‘the kind of eats this new couple are to have everybody would wish to belong to their immediate family. About 3 P. M. they started to take the Congressional Limited for New York City, where Don rejoins the Battleship FLORIDA. Nancy’s home is Mount Airy, North Carolina. She is tall, with black hair, blue eyes, mighty good looking, and. a lovely and very lovable girl. She nursed Uncle Scott at the hospital through all of his four operations. It was there that Don first met her.

Frank took the greatest interest in the wedding and I think it impressed him that this leaves him the oldest unmarried Nesbit east of the Mississippi River. It was a very delightful occasion and I am sure the new member of the family will be most heartily welcomed and greatly loved by us all.

To write of my own generation would take more space than one book affords. I have tried to give some idea to the oncoming generations of the life and times of years long passed. There are many interesting incidents of Sade when for 17 years a missionary in China; of Tressie when in the Secretary of State’s office in Jefferson City, Mo., and after her husband’s untimely death, in business and in the U. S. Treasury Department; of Harrison Nesbit in his colorful career. One relates to the past and I must record it.

In 1910, on the day the Bank of Pittsburgh was 100 years old, he was made its President. Now way back in 1880 or 1882, Uncle, Scott was a delegate to the Presbyterian General Assembly, which met at Saratoga Springs, New York. He brought east with him his wife and Grace and Harrison. They all visited Mt. Jackson before returning west. While at Mt. Jackson, Harrison saw Aunt Becky Nesbit, who was over 87 years of age, his great uncle, Captain Francis Nesbit, who was over 90 years of age. These were brothers and sisters of John C. Nesbit, our grandfather.

While in Pennsylvania his father and his Uncle Gardner went to Pittsburgh and took Harrison along. They called on John Harper, then president of the Bank of Pittsburgh, and Harrison, as a little boy, was left sitting out in the lobby while they saw Mr. Harper. This was the bank he was later to be president of. Among some of the early depositors in this bank is the name of John Nesbit, my grandfather,’ and other Nesbits living in and near Pittsburgh.

Harrison met death instantly in a terrible automobile accident near Washington, D. C., November, 1931.

Donald W. Nesbit entered the U. S. Navy and has sailed all the seas and visited most of the land on this old earth. He has had many interesting experiences and is now Captain.

Grace made several visits to England, where the parents of her husband, Herbert Radcliffe Hordern, lived. The last one was during the World War, when in spite of submarines she went to see her son, Herbert, the first great grandson of John C. Nesbit.

Herbert, who went to England and enlisted in the British army and was in the Irish Cavalry, where his training at Virginia. Military Institute was of value, was terribly wounded by shrapnel at Maine, and from this wound never recovered. He died in 1929, a casualty of the war. He was the only one of our family to be claimed by the War, a lovable boy, life so fresh and sweet to him.

Who plan for great armament,

And map the battle chart.

Out along the shattered fields,

John Clark died at Lowry City, Missouri, February 11, 1921, and was the first of our generation to pass on. He was educated in Washington, D. C., but returned to the bank in Lowry City. His love of outdoor life led him to leave the bank for the farm and he was a successful and scientific farmer and a splendid citizen.

Walter, during the War, made some valuable suggestions to Navy Department regarding methods of catching submarines, and prizes the Government’s acknowledgment of their value, which was the only pay he wanted.

Newell is the great hunter of our generation and an alert business man.

The children of my son’s generation are now men and women, several married, and another generation yet is growing up.