Mornings on Horseback Audio 1 #2

Theodore Roosevelt, his wife Martha, and their four children lived in a brownstone on 28 East 20th Street in New York City in 1869. Theodore was an importer and philanthropist, and Martha was a beautiful Southern woman. The children ranged in age from 14 to 7. The household included several servants, including Dora Watkins and Marianne. The house had a standard floor plan with a parlor, dining room, bedrooms, and servant's quarters. The brownstone looked like any other in New York City at the time. Friday, September 1st, 2023 Excerpt from Mornings on Horseback by David McCullough In the year 1869, when the population of New York City had reached nearly a million, the occupants of 28 East 20th Street, five-story brownstone numbered six, exclusive of the servants. The head of the household was Theodore Roosevelt, no middle name or initial, who was 37 years of age, an importer and philanthropist, and the son of old Cornelius Van Schaap Roosevelt, one of the richest men in the city. Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, Martha Bullock Roosevelt, or Middy as she was called, was 33, a Southerner and a beauty. The children, two girls and two boys, all conceived by the same father and mother, and born in the same front bedroom over the parlor, ranged in age from 14 to 7. The oldest, Anna, was known as Bainey. Next came ten-year-old Theodore Jr., who was called T.D. Elliot, aged 9, was Ellie, or Nell, and the youngest, Corinne, was called Connie. Of the servants, little is known except for Dora Watkins, an Irish nursemaid who had been employed since before the Civil War. Another Irish girl named Marianne was also much in evidence. Beloved by the children and well-regarded by the parents, it was she they picked to go with the family on the Grand Four that May. But in family papers dating to the time, nobody bothered to give Marianne a last name, concerning the others, the various cooks, valets, coachmen, and housemaids who seemed to have come and gone with regularity. The record is no help. But to judge by the size of the household and the accepted standards for families of comparable means and station, there were probably never less than four or five below stairs at any given time, and the degree to which they figured in the overall atmosphere was considerable. The house stood in the block between Broadway and Fourth Avenue, on the south side of the and it looked like any other New York brownstone. A narrow-fronted, sober building, wholly devoid of those architectural niceties, marble sills, family, that enlivened the red-brick houses of an earlier era downtown. The standard high stoop with cast-iron railings approached a tall front door at the second floor level, the ground floor being the standard English basement with its servants' entrance. A former parlor, cut-glass chandelier, round arch-marbled fireplace, piano, opened onto a long, narrow hall, as did a parlor or library. This is a windowless room, remember, for its stale air and look of gloomy respectability. The dining room was at the rear, again according to the standard floor plan. The master bedroom, a nursery, then three more bedrooms on the floor above, with the servants' quarters on the top floor. In the year 1869, as the population of New York City had reached nearly a million, the occupants of 28 East 20th Street, a five-story brownstone numbered 6, exclusive of the servants. The head of the household was Theodore Roosevelt, no middle name or initial, who was 37 years of age, an importer and philanthropist, and the son of old Cornelius Van Shack Roosevelt, one of the richest men in the city. Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, Martha Bullock Roosevelt, or Middy, as she was called, was 33, a Southerner and a beauty. The children, two girls and two boys, all conceived by the same father and mother and born in the same front bedroom over the parlor, ranged in age from 14 to 7. The oldest, Anna, was known as Bainey. Next came 10-year-old Theodore Junior, who was called T.D. Elliot, aged 9, was Ellie or Nell, and the youngest, Corrine, was called Donny. Of the servants, little is known except for Dora Watkins, an Irish nursemaid who had been employed since before the Civil War. Another Irish girl, named Marianne, was also much in evidence, beloved by the children and well-regarded by the parents, it was she they picked to go with the family on the grand tour that May. But, in family papers dating from that time, nobody bothered to give Marianne a last name. Concerning the others, the various cooks, ballet coachmen, and housemaids, who seemed to have come and gone with regularity, the record is of no help. To judge by the size of the house and the accepted standards for families of comparable means and station, they were probably never less than four or five below the stairs at any given time, and the degree to which they figured in the overall atmosphere was considerable. The house stood in the block between Broadway and 4th Avenue on the south side of the street, that looked like any other New York brownstone, a narrow-fronted, sober building, wholly devoid of those architectural niceties, marble sills and fanlights, that enlivened the red-brick houses of an earlier era downtown. The standard high stoop with cast-iron railings approached the tall front door on the second level, the ground floor being the standard English basement with its servant's entrance. A formal parlor, cut glass chandelier, round arch marble fireplace, piano, opened onto a long, narrow hall, as did a parlor or library. This windowless room remembered for its stale air and look of gloomy respectability. Dining room was at the rear, again according to the standard floor plan. The master bedroom and nursery, then three more bedrooms on the floor above, with the servant's quarters on the top floor.