At about 0400 of Nov 10th, my immune system got the better of me by unleashing a massive histamine reaction that sent me to the hospital. I tried to be seen by a doctor on the 9th to no avail and was doing every over-the-counter trick I knew in an attempt to push off the inevitable until the week was over. But my lungs, initially irritated by the smoke the night of the Appartement fire, decided that they had had enough and revolted. This allergy interruption meant that I, unfortunately, missed the morning speakers and the first outing.

I would have enjoyed walking along the canal and seeing how the early lock worked because I am a nerd for engineering. I thought about following the markers and walking it by myself as classmates showed me pictures and filled me in on details, but honestly, I felt like hammered crap. Still, sort of do. If I can, I spend 24 to 48 hours in bed after an ER trip, but there was no time. My stupid allergies made me miss too much as it was.

Having saved the class schedule to my phone, I texted a classmate and determined that going directly to the Tudor Place home was the best move. There I met Rob DeHart, the relatively new Curator. He was curious about what we were studying; I think in part out of curiosity and part to tailor his walk-through of the home for us. We chatted briefly about the trees on the property as we waited. The magnolias planted just inside the gate were not original to the house because they don’t live that long, but he mentioned older trees on the property, one of which he knew predated the House. He was congenial and did his best to answer the few questions I had. It was disappointing that when the class showed up, we were not allowed to walk the grounds due to an elementary school class being on the property. But these are still odd COVID times, so it is best to roll with the punches. The next time I am in DC, I plan to go back and see the garden.

I found it interesting that a home owned and occupied by a single-family line was turned into a museum and opened to the public at an owner’s request and not due to the family dying out. The steps that Armistead Peter 3rd took to make sure that this would happen shows his commitment to wanting to both preserve and share the property after he was gone.

On an unrelated note to home, I read on their website that Armistead Peter 3rd’s war experience led him to witness the Philippines’ liberation campaign during WWII, which placed him and my Grandfather in the same place with one notable exception. Armistead Peter 3rd was a witness while my Grandfather was on the ground in combat. I would venture a guess that they would describe their experiences very differently.

As for the home and its collection, it looks very well cared for. I did have concerns for the stability of a small photographic portrait that looked, at a very short glance, to be from the late 1800s to the early 1900s that was hung extremely close to a light bulb. So close in fact that part of what I assume was originally a glass sconce for gas lighting partially obscured it. That amount of direct light radiation and heat could seriously damage the photographic object. I asked if the original glass had been replaced with a more UV resistant type to protect the photographs and was told that many things in the home were replicas to preserve the originals. That answer was an excellent example of a tour guide redirect that didn’t answer my question at all. I now fear that little photograph of a woman is doomed to fade into oblivion. But perhaps I am wrong, or my question about the object will cause the Tudor House’s Curator Rob DeHart to examine the object’s placement. In retrospect, I wish I had asked how a curator makes decisions about displaying objects inside a historic home. What do they emphasize? The Tudor Home seems to split the home’s history with the last resident’s additions, such as his paintings.

I would like to know more about the connection between the Tudor Home and Mount Vernon beyond the familial tree of their owners but rather those of the enslaved. Since the next generation inherited both the homes and their enslaved persons, I assume that multiple generations of enslaved families labored on both properties. While multi-generational enslavement of people is a well-known stain on our country, I have yet to find a thorough account of single-family multi-generational owners of a single enslaved family line. But from a glossary view of the two properties and their linked histories, it seems plausible that may have been the case. From what I understand, the Tudor Place home records are more thorough than Mount Vernon’s, so I am unsure if that kind of history is discoverable. The idea of one family owning another for multiple generations certainly adds to, in my mind, the absolute horribleness of slavery.