With William Singerly’s business ventures growing in Elkton, he erected a handsome three-story, ten-room “cottage” just a few blocks from the railroad station. The structure, known as the Singerly Cottage, faced an as-yet-unnamed street in a developing section of town, some papers calling it Maple Street. But today, it is known as Cathedral Street.
Work on the residence got underway in May 1885. In August the Cecil Whig remarked on the progress at the Singerly Cottage: “It is well worth a walk around to Maple Avenue to see the fine residence about being completed for Mr. Wm. M. Singerly of Philadelphia. While the style of architecture is new to most of our people, it is generally admired by all.”
The home provided for his use when he visited Elkton was finished around October of 1885. This handsomely furnished home cost about $17,600 to build.
The Philadelphia businessman died in 1898, and in May 1906, Union Hospital purchased the cottage. Soon after that, considerable remodeling was underway, fitting up Mr. Singerly’s home for use as a hospital.
In 1929, President Herbert Hoover’s administration started searching for a location for a summer White House. President Calvin Coolidge had recommended Mount Weather, near Bluemont, Va. But Herbert Hoover wanted an area accessible by both car and the presidential yacht. He also favored a place where good fishing and other outdoor recreation could be enjoyed.
The Eastern Shore Association had several; suggestions; one was the Kitty Knight House on the Sassafras River in Georgetown. It provided convenient access to the presidential yacht and excellent fishing.
In Elkton, business interests pitched “Creswell Hall.” It was once the home of Postmaster General John Creswell and was offered to the national government as the summer home. The current owner, William Selby, met with government officials in Washington to interest them in taking over the property built in 1840, the Morning News reported on April 3, 1929. The Cecil Whig favored the idea, noting that the selection of Elkton would be a great advantage to the town.
One of the most interesting and architecturally distinctive buildings in Elkton’s old business district was the Cecil Whig Building. It was located at 125 North Street, next to PNC Bank.
The newspaper, established on Aug. 7, 1841, by Palmer Ricketts, was originally published out of a log cabin. As the weekly grew, it needed more space so in 1876 Edwin Evans Ewing built this attractive, narrow brick building to house the growing publication. The job and newspaper printing presses were located in the back of the building; the editorial and business offices fronted on North Street.
The front facade was particularly interesting, and in 1882 Henry R. Torbert added the attractive tower. It had a colonial revival door on the ground floor and a multi-panel window above. A recessed panel extended up the entire tower. At the top, the panel was inscribed with the dates 1841 and 1882.
In 1960, the Cecil Whig moved to a modern printing plant and building on Bridge Street. The grand-old building was demolished around 1985 to make way for an expansion of what was until recently PNC Bank.
Cecil County once had many thriving villages, most with a cluster of homes, a few shopkeepers and tradesmen, a schoolhouse, a physician, and almost everything one needed for daily life. While most of these places continued into the 21st century as residential communities, they no longer bustle with enterprising activity the way they did in the past.
Pleasant Hill, one of those villages, got its name because it was situated on top of a hill, 392 feet above sea level in the county’s northeastern corner.
Growth for the hamlet came about slowly. When M. G. Scarborough bought a tract of land from Charles Morrison to erect a small store, there were only three or four houses and a little old schoolhouse. He was doing this “with the expectations of catching a few pennies from the school children,” the Cecil Whig joked. Around 1887 he gave a half-acre to the Free Methodist Church.
By 1897, “The Hill” was fast, assuming the appearance of an ordinary country town the Cecil Whig observed. With things booming, everyone stayed busy throughout the day while “in the evening (country fashion) [they] gather at the store to discuss the happenings. Matt, “the pioneer store-keeper,” was doing a thriving business, adding stock daily.
But Henry Henderson, having opened a new store at the upper crossroads, provided competition. He was “within hollering distance of Matt’s location, where he will compete for the millions that circulate around the neighborhood.” Matt had erected a new porch in front of his store to show his stock of goods.
The 125 people calling “the Hill” home had daily stage connections to Elkton and Blake in 1902. Tradesmen included a painter, papermaker, two general stores, carpenter, stonemason, bookmaker, wagonmaker, shoemaker, and millwright,
A post office opened here on May 23, 1891, and Robert W. Scarborough was the postmaster. After it closed on Aug 15, 1908, mail was sent to Childs.
A thriving hamlet needs a school, and Pleasant Hill had one prior to the Civil War. In 1888 the Board of Education built a new schoolhouse for young scholars residing in the area. This new center of learning was built in October of that year by Matthew G. Scarborough for $739. After the school closed on May 29, 1958, it was sold to the Rev. Robert Hall for $2,600, who established the Gospel Tabernacle in the building once alterations were done.
During the Great Depression, a force of men from the relief rolls erected a fire observation tower at the edge of Pleasant Hill on an adjacent hilltop called Egg Hill. The fire tower operated by the Maryland Forestry Department enabled the lookout on duty to check for developing forest fires in the northeastern quadrant of Cecil County.
Today the crossroads that come together on this Cecil County hilltop bustle with traffic. At one of these busy intersections, the popular Pleasant Hill Store buzzes with activity as customers stop by this country store.
On May 25, 2023, WITF’s Scott Lamar visited the Mason-Dixon Line to learn about the history of one of the most famous boundaries in America with historian Mike Dixon.
The boundary line between Pennsylvania and Maryland was disputed as early as the 1680s. An English team – Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon – surveyed the land and worked to mark the boundary line from 1763 to 1767.
Nearly a hundred years later, the Mason-Dixon Line took on meanings beyond its intended purpose, a geographic boundary that sorted out land ownership claims. In the centuries after the British astronomers and surveyors completed their work, the line became associated with symbolism as a political and cultural border between the North and South.
During prohibition, the location of the line between Pennsylvania and Maryland came up again. This time, it involved whether the still was above or below the line.
At the turn of the twentieth century, the blacksmith trade thrived in Cecil County. Smithies, their dark, dingy shops cluttered with tools, were found in every town and many villages where they worked away at forges, shoeing horses, repairing farm implements, and shaping metal. The clang of their hammer striking red-hot metal on an anvil was a familiar sound around the county.
In 1892, the county had at least 44 blacksmiths.1 Two of these tradesmen were Robert Boone Gibson, in Charlestown, and Ellis McMullen, who worked the anvil in Mechanics Valley. But the days when these shops were common started slipping away as automobiles gained in popularity while horses slowly disappeared from the roads. This technological shift brought the need for a new craftsman, the auto mechanic.
By the 1930s, the automobile had become the dominant mode of transportation, and Ruben H. T. Dunbar became Elkton’s last 19th-century blacksmith. His shop on North Street closed in September 1933 when the 66-year-old smithy suffered a fatal heart attack. Shortly after he passed, Henry Dorsey’s unattended horse, “Prince,” trotted up the door of the shop, the Cecil Whig reported. Once he gained entrance, the horse stepped up to the forge to await the proprietor. Those around the shop “tried to drive the horse home, but he refused to go, so often had he been taken there for a new pair of shoes,” the Cecil Whig reported. Elkton’s last 19th-century blacksmith had passed away.2
The decline of the blacksmith trade in Cecil County reflected the changing times. With the automobile becoming more popular, there was less need for blacksmiths to shoe horses and repair farm implements. The blacksmith trade had been a vital part of rural life for centuries, but it became obsolete with the advent of new technology.
A similar decline in the trade took place across the nation, as people needed auto mechanics to fix their cars, and horses no longer appeared on the streets. It was a reflection of changing times.
Independent African American newspapers have traditionally been important information outlets for the Black community. As people lived under the oppression of Jim Crow, fought for equality, and sought unbiased reporting, these enterprises printed news and opinions that mainstream media ignored or slanted.
Maryland readers had the Afro-American and the Afro-American Ledger, both Baltimore papers telling stories from their subscribers’ perspectives. Correspondents filled their pages with uplifting coverage of social happenings and events while the editors campaigned against the issues of the age. The editions contained news that readers couldn’t find in the mainstream press.–and contributing writers from Cecil County penned columns for the city publications.
In 1903, a new minister in Elkton, the Rev. Joseph Gwynn, arrived in Elkton to serve the Elkton A.U.M.P. Church. Rev Gwynn decided Cecil County needed an African American newspaper to serve the “interest of the colored people of Elkton.” As a result, he launched and edited a weekly, “The Problem.”
The first number appeared in homes in Cecil County at the start of January 1903. While copies have not survived the passage of over a century. Hopefully, someone will discover an issue of this African American newspaper in an attic someday.
The minister was born in Baltimore on May 27, 1872, and died on June 18, 1958.
ELKTON — May 5, 2023 — As the weather cleared after a series of rainy days, a crowd gathered on this enjoyable spring evening in front of Rev. Duke’s Log House. They assembled for a celebration–the Historical Society of Cecil County’s rededication of the reverend’s old home and to dedicate a bench that recognized the Stanley family.
Built about 1800, the house, a witness to the passing of centuries, needed critical structural work. So the Society hired Joe Wey of Wey Timberframes to dismantle the frame, save elements when possible, and rebuild the house. As a result, this old relic will survive for many more generations. The Society marked the occasion with this rededication.
The original structure stood on Bow Street until 1970. But as demolition was planned when Union Hospital expanded, the Society acted to save the Reverend Duke Log House–a contractor hauled it across town to a lot behind the Historical Society on E. Main St.
During the program, Bert Jicha, a Methodist minister stationed in Crisfield, appeared as Reverend Duke. Performing the role of Duke, he engaged the crowd of about 70 people with a lively talk.
The heritage group also dedicated a bench to the Stanley family, long-time community leaders, and volunteers at the Society. Former Mayor John Stanley served as the president of the Society when the home of the Society saved it from the wrecking ball in 1970. His son Phil, who passed away in 2022, worked on the structure as a volunteer to prepare it for stabilization in 1970. Debbie had served the Society as a trustee and treasurer for many decades.
Bald Friar, a hamlet at the edge of the Susquehanna River a few miles north of Conowingo, had a ferry that allowed colonial travelers to cross the waterway. In 1877, it was connected to the larger world by the railroad’s arrival.
The Columbia and Port Deposit Railroad stretched up the eastern side of the Susquehanna River, serving villages on the river’s edge. One of those hamlets, Bald Friar, was merely a flag stop–you had to signal the train if you wanted to climb onboard. In 1916, four passenger trains a day stopped if flagged. This Columbia and Port Deposit Railroad station passed out of existence when the contractor finished the Conowingo Dam. As water filled Conowingo Lake, it washed over settlements at the river’s edge. By 1928 Bald Friar was no longer listed on the railroad timetable.
In a few more years, the railroad completely discontinued local passenger service on this road. As for the six people posing for the picture, their identity has been lost to the passage of time.
The Southern Lancaster County Historical Society is located south of Quarryville on Route 222. The society has strong resources for those studying and researching Southern Lancaster County and nearby areas, such as the hamlets just over the state line in northwestern Cecil County. They also have wonderful, eager volunteers helping curious people dig into the past. Their website is www.southernlancasterhistory.org.
We have found some previously untapped local information by doing research there. You may want to check them out, too, as they also have informative public programming and work hard to open up access to the past.
During the canal era at the top of the 19th century, the little river town of Conowingo prospered, but after the canal closed, the place declined. In this period, some 40 or 50 years earlier, it had done brisk business, and several sawmills were at work, the Cecil Whig reported in 1870. But these memories were fading.
However, in the summer of 1870, the people looked forward to the arrival of the Columbia and Port Deposit Railroad to revive things. The Midland Journal reported that the workmen were within sight of the village by July. The company had selected a location for a station in town, and this coupled with the bridge crossing the Susquehanna River, would cause things to pick up it was suggested
The railroad soon arrived in the village and, by 1877, connected places along the river from Columbia, PA, to Port Deposit. Conowingo became a bustling station on the line up the east side of the Susquehanna River.
By 1925, with talk about the hydroelectric plant growing, the village had become famous because of the impending construction project, newspapers suggested. It had “thirty or forty old structures, stores, and dwellings on the east bank of the river, stretching along the Baltimore pike about three miles below the Mason Dixon Line,” the Cecil Democrat remarked.
Soon the railroad, which had given the isolated place an outlet to the world, would disappear under the water of Conowingo Lake. Somewhere between one- to two thousand men were working on relocating track to higher ground. In connection with the construction of the elevated railroad, it was necessary to build “a viaduct over the Octoraro Creek, three-fourths of a mile long.” several new concrete bridges and dig tunnels through solid rock.
Seven new passenger stations were also constructed to replace the old ones.
The new Columbia and Port Deposit Railroad opened on Sunday, October 8, 1927, at 8:01 a.m., the Havre de Grace Republican noted. It was fifty or more feet higher, stretching approximately 15 miles from Port Deposit to Peach Bottom. In January 1928, the Midland Journal pointed out that Conowingo, as a railroad stop, would pass out of existence on January 31, “after which date the station at the end of the bridge over the crest of the new dam on in the Cecil County side, will be known as Cromley’s Mountain.
Somehow that new name didn’t stick despite the company’s declaration for later timetables listed the depot at the east end of the dam as Conowingo. The old town and its station were gone, covered by water impounded behind the dam.