Seventeenth Century Houses 
swept up the hill and 
the rooms and hall 
and ground were 
alive with them until 
that famous 25th of 
November, 1783, 
when for the last 
time Manhattan felt 
the tread of an 
enemy’s foot. 
A Dr. Ledyard 
was the lord of the 
manor next; but in 
a short time the 
noble mansion tell 
upon evil days. An 
innovator who had 
the distinction of 
starting the first 
stage line from New 
York to Boston, 
Talmage Hall by 
name, decided that 
he could make this 
a wayside inn tor the stages which started at 
the old City Tavern, Broadway and Thames 
Street. The very room in which the Father 
of his Country had once solemnly enter¬ 
tained a delegation of a hundred painted 
and bedecked Indian braves, he now adver¬ 
tised as “ very happily calculated tor turtle 
parties.” 
But Mr. Hall was ahead of his time: the 
old house was not quite ready vet for such 
modern improvements. After many vicissi¬ 
tudes (during which time the whole prop¬ 
erty was confiscated by the government 
under the former bill of attainder, and John 
Jacob Astor, purchasing the claims of all the 
heirs, is said to have made a clear half-mil- 
lion out of it) it was finally bought by a 
wealthy French merchant named Jumel, 
who, like Colonel Morris, brought hither his 
bride. 
He must have inspired some gratitude 
and affection in the heart of the old house, 
this French merchant. For he set himself 
arduously and enthusiastically to the task 
of beautifying it. Everything was put in 
order and presently came from France a 
whole shipload of 
furniture, of plate, 
of paintings, of 
young trees, of 
everything fine that 
money could pur¬ 
chase, till the vener¬ 
able mansion was 
decked out like a 
bride itself. But the 
admirable French¬ 
man was too good 
to last: he was 
gathered to his fath¬ 
ers — and the lady 
became Mrs. Aaron 
Burr. They lived 
here but a stone’s 
throw from the 
home qf him whom 
Burr drove to that 
fata 1 meeting on 
Weehawken 
Heights which has 
always left such a blot on the latter’s name. 
For many years this famous dwelling 
knew no more of sudden change. Even 
today it stands inviolate, looking far down 
the Harlem River and over the mighty 
city which has surged up around and 
beyond it but has not yet succeeded in 
turning its sloping sward into either mon¬ 
strous apartment houses or “ pants ” fac¬ 
tories. The tall pillars, the fine trees, 
the line of box, the adorable haughty 
white peacock, all seem to ponder of the 
past and to exhale it fragrantly as they 
look toward the big bronze plate com¬ 
memorating the stay with them of the First 
American. 
But great hospitals, cathedrals, and halls 
of learning are causing a real estate “boom” 
a little to the south ; it can only be a ques¬ 
tion of time when the city cordon will be 
drawn so close that there will be nothing 
left but the final assimilation. Gloomy 
as is such an idea, it gives one but a more 
livelv appreciation of the place’s charm, 
but a more affectionate feeling towards 
its tempered and memory-haunted beauty. 
DOORWAY OP THE JUMEL MANSION 
3 2 
