The polar vortex continues to plague me. But in just under two months I'll be making my annual return to Lancaster, one of my favorite cities, to participate in my beloved Zenkaikon. For four days (well, three and a half) I'll be regaling my fellow nerds with tales of Lancaster's historic past and spooky legends. I'm also going to be involved with this year's charity auction - there's a slight chance I'll be the one with the microphone, but more likely I'll be walking around showing off the items up for bid like a less glamorous Vanna White.
Well, as you can probably guess, my mind is wandering the streets of Lancaster as I continue with my preparations. I'm not particularly nervous, since for some weird reason I enjoy public speaking, but I am anxious that everything is ready and as good as I can make it. My to-do list before the convention is even more extensive than at other times of the year. So as long as I've got the Red Rose City on the brain anyway, I figure we might as well talk a bit more about the history in this week's blog post. Today's subject has a connection with some of the most famous - and one of the most infamous - names from the American Revolution.
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The marker stands on the property at
Shippen and Orange Streets |
Shippen House stood at the intersection of Orange and Shippen Streets, funnily enough. The Shippen family, who owned the manor and gave their name to the street, was quite extensive and well-known during our colonial and Revolutionary War days. The first Edward Shippen was born in England and moved to Boston as an adult, from which was invited by William Penn himself in 1701 to come to the Province of Pennsylvania. He was a merchant, but in 1702 he became the first elected mayor of Philadelphia. He also served as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania and President of the Provincial Council.
Edward the first was married three times, and fathered eleven children. Most of them, sadly, died in childhood; only his sons Edward, Joseph, and William and his daughter Anne actually survived to adulthood. I'll be honest - the Shippen family tree is a bit confusing because of the same names being used repeatedly, so I'm not 100% clear on how some people are related to the first Edward. (I have the same problem with one particular branch of my own family tree.) But we can skip ahead a generation or so to another Edward Shippen, whom I do know for sure was the grandson of that first one.
This Edward was a merchant who, as a relatively young man, established the community of Shippensburg, in modern Cumberland and Franklin Counties. It has its own historical markers, and even its own Shippen House, so I'll be spending some time there at some point. Known in the family as "Neddy," he married Sarah Plumley and had eight children, though five died in infancy. In fact, three of them, including twin boys, all died in September of 1727, suggesting that some illness may have struck the family. Sarah also died fairly young, in 1735. Like his grandfather, Neddy served as mayor of Philadelphia, being elected in 1744. He then spent a few years as a judge of the Court of Common Pleas until 1752, when he relocated to Lancaster with at least two of his three surviving children and his second wife, the former Mary Gray.
In Lancaster, Neddy served as a prothonotary, a county judge, and a vestryman at
St. James Episcopal Church. He was later elected to the American Philosophical Society when it was revived. During the French and Indian War, he acted as a paymaster for the British and provincial forces, and also served as chairman of the regional Committee of Correspondence, which was a means of spreading news and ideas between colonial settlements. According to at least one source, he's also remembered - unfavorably - as being the one responsible for allowing the Paxton Boys to massacre the last surviving Conestoga Natives, after having previously vowed to protect them. I mentioned this bloody piece of history when I wrote about the
Fulton Opera House, which stands on the site of the jail where the Conestoga had been housed; Neddy was the borough's chief burgess at the time of the slaughter, but how involved he was in the whole matter, I truthfully don't know.
Neddy's son, also called Edward, was a fairly successful lawyer who tried very hard to remain neutral in the Revolution. In 1779, he purchased for his father's comfort a beautiful home at the intersection of Shippen and Orange Streets. It had previously belonged to Thomas Cookson, the first burgess of the community. I have a picture of it here - not my photograph, obviously, but taken from the Library of Congress at the link in my sources. Neddy, who had been widowed for a second time the previous year, remained at what was now called Shippen House for the rest of his life.
Two months after Neddy moved into his new home, a wedding took place. Neddy's son Edward's youngest daughter Margaret, known as Peggy, became the bride of a widowed officer with three sons. You almost certainly know his name, and at least part of his story - Benedict Arnold. Originally a loyal soldier in the fledgling Continental Army, he grew disillusioned with the way he was treated and how his wife's family was threatened for their reluctance to take sides. Just a year after the marriage, Arnold turned spy for the British, and Peggy helped him to pass coded correspondence through her own social circle. During his appointment as commander of West Point, he began undermining the Revolution by ignoring needed repairs and attempting to drain the important location of its resources. But when his plans were exposed, he fled.
However history chooses to view Arnold's actions, he was a deeply affectionate husband by all accounts, and his primary concern even during his escape was for Peggy. He sent a letter to General Washington, admitting to his duplicity and requesting only that Washington grant his wife safe passage to her relatives in Philadelphia. Washington, though deeply grieved by the loss of his trusted aide, agreed. Following the surrender of Cornwallis in 1781, the Arnolds and their five children sailed to England, where Arnold died in 1801. Peggy never returned to America; she shares a tomb in London with Arnold and their only daughter, Sophia.
Meanwhile, Neddy died in Lancaster in 1781, and was buried in the St. James churchyard. Following his death, his son sold Shippen House to one of his brothers, and over the next few decades it was passed from one family member to another. Toward the end of the 19th century it bounced through a few unrelated hands until finally, in 1908, it ceased to be a private residence. Instead, it became part of the short-lived Shippen School for Girls, serving as the teachers' dormitory; classes were taught in a neighboring building on Lime Street. In 1912, the school was purchased by the
Lancaster YWCA and used as their headquarters for three years. Both Shippen House and the former classroom building were demolished in 1915, and a new YWCA - pictured here - was constructed on the grounds. It still serves that same purpose more than a hundred years later, a much larger and arguably grander building than the home it replaced.
Only the historical marker lets passersby know about the house where Peggy Shippen Arnold probably drank tea with her grandfather before entering the history books.
Sources and Further Reading:
Except where indicated, all writing and photography on this blog is the intellectual property of Laura Klotz. This blog is written with permission of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission. I am not employed by the PHMC. All rights reserved.
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