April, 1906 
white marble, and in matter of design is specially worthy 
of notice. From here, as well as from the north hall, the 
dining-room is entered. 
Often the architectural interest of an interior is materially 
injured by the furnishings, but in this instance it is greatly 
enhanced. They are almost without exception in harmony 
with the house, of equal age and artistic worth. A century 
ago furniture was still made by hand, and was not only more 
lasting but more worthy of preservation than the current ma- 
chine turned articles. Though some changes have been made, 
and certain things replaced, the rooms in the Tudor House 
to-day are virtually as they were when the present owner 
was a girl. Much of the furniture was inherited from the 
Washington estate, divided after Mrs. Washington’s death 
. 
et 
Crepe Myrtle in Blossom. In the Distance a Noble Spruce. Within 
the Box Hedge is a Locust Tree, Much Over a Hundred Years Old 
among her grandchildren. Mrs. Kennon’s mother, Mrs. 
Peter, did not in all probability receive more than her share, 
but the fact that what she got has been kept for all these 
years, not only carefully but under a single roof and in the 
possession of one person, accounts in a measure for the ap- 
parent largeness of her inheritance. Mrs. Kennon has, for 
example, besides several of the Washington tables and chairs, 
Mrs. Washington’s writing desk and jewelry, and some of 
the valances which she made with her own hands. She has 
the plateau and candelabra used on General Washington’s 
dining table at Mt. Vernon, as well zs much of the china, 
glassware and silver. All the pictures in the drawing-room 
were at one time Washington’s, and on every side interesting 
relics are to be found. 
On the mantel in the main drawing-room is a m‘niature 
of Thornton, painted by his wife and presented personally 
to Mrs. Kennon as a token of regard. It is an admirable 
piece of work, somewhat timid, perhaps, but good in color 
and excellent in delineation—an exceptionally meritorious 
work, interesting aside from subject or pa’nter, but in the 
present connection doubly interesting on their account. 
With the exception of the few short years of her married 
AME RECAN “HOMES AND GARDENS 25 
wal 
life, and a brief absence during the Civil War, Mrs Kennon 
has found her home in the Tudor Place for nearly ninety 
years. She remembers well when it was thought to be in the 
country, and can recall meeting in her childhood the genial 
and talented man of letters who was accountable for its 
architectural design. At the time of the war, being naturally 
a Southern sympathizer—the Lees are her cousins, it will be 
remembered—she leased her house and went to Virginia, but 
hearing that it had been abandoned by the lessee and was 
about to be confiscated as a hospital, she hurried back, undera 
flag of truce, by Way of Baltimore, took possession and 
directly secured as boarders a number of Federal officers, 
chiefly medical men. The home was thus saved, and the 
single compact, that the subject of the war should never be 
mentioned beneath its roof, was, to the credit of all, 
violated. 
The only damage which accrued to the place during the 
war was through depredations made upon the hedges of box 
by the unknowing tenants who mistook the growth for com- 
mon evergreen and used it lavishly for interior decoration. 
In this way some of the hedges were utterly destroyed and 
others almost irreparably scarred. All were planted when 
the house was built and some are now in splendid condition. 
Those which border the northern approach and form a circle 
before the entrance, stand over four feet in height and meas- 
ure five and even six feet in width. 
The grounds, which occupy about two ordinary city blocks, 
are charmingly laid out and furnish precisely the right setting 
for the house. ‘To the north is the formal garden, with its 
broad, straight path leading up to the entrance. Here in 
rapid succession during the summer months blossom the old 
familiar flowers that each year return with fresh import, 
the hardy annuals, which cannot be too highly prized. 
Beyond this, where the box bordering ends, are the beds 
of hollyhocks, dozens of them, of every tint and shade, bend- 
ing and bowing, whispering together and laughing at the 
world, like the light-hearted, good comrades that they are. 
It is a wonderful sight, and with the shady wall of the some- 
what distant house as a background is a picture well worth 
remembering. 
But for that matter there are pictures on every side, along 
the path which leads from the gate, or down by the arbor and 
across the lawn. Off to the south the sunshine plays across 
the face of the great house, whose lines cut pleasantly against 
the sky, while a pink rose blossoms at the base of the portico, 
and a friendly maple casts its cooling shadow over the vine- 
clad east wing. Turning about, and looking away from the 
house, one sees the city; the Virginia hills; Arlington, per- 
haps; and lastly, above the western tree tops, the slender 
spires of Georgetown College. Or, if you want shade and 
rest, off to the left is a group of stalwart trees, a bench and a 
hammock. 
The season in Washington is long. In March the vine 
on the house begins to leaf, and in the garden beds each day 
is chronicled a new resurrection; while in October comes a 
riot of blossoms vying with the changing foliage, and lasting 
ofttimes, until after the first fall of snow. One day late last 
Autumn the Boston ivy on the Tudor Place was changed to 
a rich crimson and garnet, a maple at the gate had become a 
tree of gold, while in the long beds were masses of dainty 
cosmos, and under one of the drawing-room windows a sturdy 
marigold had acknowledged a debt of gratitude. 
It is not a stately place, save as stateliness is derived from 
nobility; all the rumples are not smoothed out, there are some 
irregularities, some places left to Nature’s abandonment, but 
for this reason all the most charming. 
dence but a home which amid the progress and hurry of 
modern times has remained true to old ideals; which has 
kept pace with the time, yet has preserved its own identity. 
never 
Not merely a resi- 
