Evening Star Newspaper, September 29, 1929, Page 119

R— JURTRp—— K which he happily saw enacted into laws, and his efforts so endeared himself, especially to the lower classes, that he gained by popular favor the title “Father of the People.” The date of his arrival in Washington is given as February 23, 1795, and on March 20, 1796, just a little over a year later, he was married at the home of Dr. David Stuart, then living at Hope Park, in Fairfax County, Va., to Elizabeth Parke Custis, daughter of John Parke Custis, then deceased, and granddaughter of Mrs. Washington. He was then 39, the bride 19. Soeon after their marriage, Mr, and Mrs. Law took up their residence in the range of houses now a part of the Potomac Hotel. However, except for the first few years, the union proved a very unhappy one, finally resulting in a mutual separation in the Summer of 1804, he taking the daughter, Eliza, to raise. Mre. Law died in Richmond, Va., on January 1, 1832, and is buried in the Washington Tomb at Mount Vernon. Thomas Law died here on July 31, 1834, and his death is recorded in the Intelligencer of the following day: “In this city, at 6 o'clock yesterday morning, after an illness of 8 or 10 days, Thomas Law, Esquire, aged about 0 yesrs ' ., “The funeral of Mr. Law will take place from his residence on Capitol Hill, this afternoon at 4 o'clock, which his friends and acquaintances are invited to attend without further notice. “He lived to follow to the grave his whole family, three beloved sons, natives of India, and a no less beloved daughter, a native of this District.” He is said to have been buried in St. John's Cemetery, which at one time occupied the block between Twelfth and Thirteenth and R and S streets northwest, and when the bodies were removed from this place, his was taken to Rock Creek Cemetery, and today rests in an un- identified grave. JOME years after Conrad and McMunn ceased to keep a boarding house on this corner the place was kept by a Frenchman named Mitchel, subsequently becoming the Law House and the vVarnum. For a number of years the place was leased to the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey, and it continued to be its home until it removed, about 1871, to the buildings farther up the block, erected in that year by Rich- ardson Bros. Later the Government bought this building, and here this branch of the Fed- eral service has made its home ever since. However, by the time this story appears in print it is quite probable that little of this building will remain standing, as the rear por- tion, running back to South Capitol street, is already down. Everything in this block is slated to go, even to the old Ben Butler house, the large dark Y STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C. SEPTEMBER 29, 192_9;_ Thomas Law, “Washington's first rich man.” granite building situated at the southwest cor- ner of New Jersey avenue and B street, lately occupied by the Bureau of the Public Health. Though erected quite a while ago, yet the Butler house would not be classed as a land- mark, and even its historic value hinges upon the fact of its having been built by Gen. Butler, and that for a while, in 1881, it served as the Executive Mansion, as had the old hotel at the south side of the block 80 years before. After the death of President Garfield, at Elberon, just 48 years ago the 19th of this month, Chester Alan Artbur took the oath of oftice as President of the United States in New York City and accompanied to Washington the funeral party, which arrived here two days later. President Arthur then took up his resi- dence in the Butler mansion, occupied at the time by Senator John P. Jones of Nevada, and remained there until the following December 7, when he removed to the White House. Gen. Benjamin F. Butler, or “Spoony” Butler, as the South delighted to call this able soldier and legislator, was also noted for his shrewd- ness in a business way, and the story is told that when he was about to ship the granite for the Butler house from the quarries of Mas- sachusetts, which State he represented in the House, he learned that some Government ves- sels were to leave Boston for Washington in ballast. It did not take him long to agree to furnish the ballast free and the granite was soon on the ground ready to be placed in his new home, greatly to the surprise of every one, who stood aghast at his nerve, and how he got by with it, yet the Government was bene- fited by his thoughtfulness just as much as he was. URING the Civil War, when the land and sea forces of the North were hammering away at the defenses of New Orleans, Butler was a major general, and when the city fell, after the bombardment which began on April 20, 1862, he took charge of the place as provost marshal. He forthwith had a census taken of the city, which showed that out of a popu- lation of 169,000 inhabitants only 4,000 were willing to say they were not Confederate sym- pathizers, Basing his action upon this, Butler took such Eliza Parke Custis (Mrs. Thomas Law). real and personal property as he deemed neces- sary. Guilty or not guilty, naturally he was accused of everything but horse stealing, and out of it all grew the silver spoon story, at- tributing the taking for his own benefit all the gold and silver loot of the town, which he denied. In after years some one asked Gen. Butler for his version of the silver spoon story, and the following account of the transaction is said to have been written or approved by him: “In July, 1862, he ordered all property in New Orleans belonging to persons in the Oome federate service to be declared confiscated $Q° the United States Government. Among property seized under .this order was the hande" some mansion of Gen. Twiggs of the Confede’ erate Army, who had been in command of New, Orleans but had withdrawn to Georgia on hearing of the approach of the United States forces. ‘To this mansion Gen. Butler transe' terred his headquarters from the St. Charles Hotel. “Soon after his occupation here one of Ihe. family servants came to him carrying a of silver salvers, spoons, fo:ks, etc., and sa; i that his ‘old massa’ had meant to hide thenf from the Yankees, but that he (the Negro) had ‘marked whar de silber was buried, an’ hyar, it all is, sure 'muff.” Gen. Butler used this plate while he occupied the house, and when' he retired he turned every fork, spoon, eiC., cover to the quartermaster’s department. He asserts that he has in his possession vouchexg to show that all these were passzd over to the’ Government, and when they subsequently dise appeared he says that he has no means of knowing. Two handsome swords belonging b. Gen. Twiggs, one of which had been vot«d &0 him by Congress in recognition of his valuablg services in the Mexican War, while thg othee was the weapon which he used in the Come federate Army, were sent by Butler to the Government at Washington, with the suggestiom that one of them be donated to Academy and the other to West Point, ‘as emplars of what base uses may be made honorable weapons’ His advice was not The swords were locked up in one of the ury vaults for safekeeping, and one of the plicate keys was given to the general. daughter of Gen. Twiggs went to Wi several years ago to obtain these swords, and] we think that they were restored to her. On making an application to Gen. Butler first, h¢ disclaimed all personal right to the ; and referred her to the Government.” Not nearly so many buildings will have #9 be removed for the House Office addition ag was the case with the original building in the block on the east side of New Jersey avenue, Betwezn B and C streets this square was built up with the old Congressional Hotel, frga | quented by many important men, at the : end, while at the south stood another of Law houses, occupied for many years by Jossph Holt! cabinet officer and judge cate in the trial of the Lincoln conspirators. .. The laying of the corner stone of this b was a notable event, President Theodore velt being present and delivering his celebra address, “The Man with the Muck Vice President Charles W. FPairbanks Speaker Joseph G. Cannon, '"~ nnt with today, were present upon that octaswn. | Marooned EZ;Q/ZZ‘ Months — — Continued From Seventeenth Pagd_'- was the loss of some oakum from the seams, and she was refloated and anchored with what ground tackle we had. She was, however, ill- starred. Within a month or so one of the worst storms I ever saw, whether on sea or Jand, made an end of her. : Pascinated by a threatening aspect of the weather one evening in August, I scanned the sky. Its colors resembled those associated with typhoons: overhead, a dull and heavy gray; below and extending almost to the horizon from east through north to west, a sickly violet; beneath that lay copper to the dim line where sky and sea met, Little wind was blowing. When would the blast come? After waiting an hour I abandoned my watch and went to Redwood Cottage. “Have you,” I asked Jor- gensen, ‘“experienced any typhoons here?” He said he had not. “Unless I'm badly mistaken,” I continued, “we're in for one. I hope this shanty will stand the gaff. Your work on it may be its salvation.” At 11 o'clock that night the blow struck us. The building, it seemed, must go. The storm raised a terrific noise. Not a soul could sleep; every one was on edge to feel the house demol- ished at any moment. In their flimsy quarters the crew thought that the end of everything had come, and, abandoning .heir huts, they huddled under the lee of our veranda. In their shacks they had been panic-stricken; now crowded together, close to omnipotent white men, lords of tempest, they were far braver. At daybreak the wind still blew fiercely, driving before it a hell of sand that penetrated into all parts of the house; sand in our hair, ears, eves, nostrils; sand everywhere; we breathed it, swallowed it, gritted between our teeth. Anxiety for the boat which Jorgenson and I generally used led me to suggest that we ven- ture into the storm and ascertain whether it was all right. Out we sallied on the lee side of the house; as we rounded the corner the wind flung us back. To see was impossible; though the time was forenoon, a dun night enveloped the world, while rain and furious sand stung our faces like needles. We lashed on our cloth- ing to prevent it being literally blown from our bodies; then we made another essay; yet still we could not stand against the storm, even by crouching almost to the ground, and at length we crawled. Finally we attained the place where we had left the boat. It had vanished. What now? Sitting with our backs to the gale, shouting mouth to ear in order to make ourselves heard above the awful elemental roar, we discussed our course, We decided to search for the boat to leeward, but not to venture too far, lest we lose all sense of direction and so fail to regain the house. Within 50 yards we stumbled upon the craft, half buried in sand, with some ot the planking broken; whether it had been dam- aged otherwise we could not ascertain. 'I‘HEN we retraced our steps; we crawled, rather, on the flats of our bellies, guessing our way; moving at the pace of a snail; holding our eyes shut fast against the flving sand. Our progress was small, and even that little Guessing our way: holding our eyes shut fast against the flying sand. Jor- gensen was beginning to despair. “I can go no farther, Cameron,” he moaned. might be in a wrong direction, Never have I had another such experience. We clutched each other's hands, I slightly in the lead to shield Jorgensen, who was beginning to despair. “I can go no farther, Cameron,” he moaned. “You fool!"” roared I—"Roared” did I say? I must have squeaked like a bat in that hell— “You fool! What! Give up and die? Sand will bury you. We're near the house. Spurt, and we'll make it!” “I'm done for, Camercn,” he gasped. “Leave me here. You go on.” “See you dammned first,” said I—and without me, damned he would have been. I clouted him hard in the face. A stiff blow to the jaw is an excellent spur, believe me. “Now will you try?” I demanded, He made an effort:—funked; rallied and again failed: but striking and cursing him and resting frequently, I got him to the hut. Each of us was soaking wet, grievously hungry; our faces were bloody from the scouring of the sand. Between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when it had blown for 16 hours, the storm suddenly died. What a sight we saw! Changed, remolded, was the whole island; the brush, scanty at best, was stripped of leaves and seemed scorched as by fire; all the grass was withered; here was a new mound, there an unexpected pit. Fortunately for us the birds had not been blown away, though I cannot understand why they were not. The boats, shanties and house all had been damaged to such an extent that repairs required a week. Far worse was the fate of the schooner; again she had been cast high upon the sand and now was beyond restoration; masts and rudder were gone and the port side was smashed. The typhoon had made sure that neither Walker nor Cameron would ever navigate that craft. Other woes pressed upon us. Soon after the typhoon the weather grew colder, indicating the approach of Winter and the probable dis- appearance of the turtles and of many fowl. Already the number of birds had become so small that our rations of eggs were red and the creatures themselves, taught w. by experience, could be captured only on nights, “What about food in the Winter?” I aske@ Jorgensen. “Not much to be had, eua fish,” sald he despondently. “There are many of us.” Some of us, it was obvious must depart. “Let’s strengthen the boat we've been using¥ I suggested to Jorgensen; “fit it out, and maki} for Hawaii.” Although he approved the he was none too sanguine of success. I had admit that we had no means of determ longitude, although my sextant would give us: our latitude. We mulled over the prospects and eventually decided to run the risk. While we were planning the necessary alleme tions to the boat, Prank Lord, the cook, am American, one of the few white men of i company, stole a march on us. He anefi the crew cleared out the best of the thi i With consummate secrecy they executed theiW design; I at least had not the slightest inkling of the stupid thing they were about to do unti} we missed them one morning. Soon we obw served their boat rounding the western point off Eastern Island, under full sail, with a fresh breeze blowing; it headed for the passage and the open sea; and Prank Lord and his foum fellow imbeciles vanished from the face of the earth, What became of the idiots? Did they starvé or, more happily, drown? course to steer. Perhaps they were led to také such a desperate chance by the hope that & vessel would pick them up at sea, or that they would arrive at Ocean Island, some 50 mile§ to the west, where food had been cached by the Hawailan government for castaways. Whate ever they expected to accomplish, wherever they expected to land, no matter what miracle they heped for, they died, one and all, somewhere in the broad Pacific. (cowri{ht. 1929.) High-Priced Clay EVEN clay seems to be high priced in thess days. Kaolin, from which high-grade pottery, porcelain, wall paper, oilcloth and other products are made, was produced to'the extent of 496,000 tons last year, and the value, at approximately $8 a ton, was $4,088,003. than 4,000,000 tons of all types of chj@ produced, and the total value was $14,000,000; Wheat in Maryland W'HEAT, which is one of the important crop§ of the Eastern Shore of Maryland, i carried to market in the schooners which up and down tle bay and rivers emptying n‘s it. The whead is weighed and dumped into the hold, from which it is later sucked out through special openings, at the elevators fo* Baltimore, 3