ico supported by Ionic columns, the front walls decorated with
pilasters of the same order and its whole appearance distinguished by
a Palladian character of rich though sober ornament." We learn further
that its entrance was broad and imposing, that there were balconies
fronting the rooms on the second story. The inside of the house was
spaciously partitioned, with large, high rooms, massive stairways with
fine mahogany woodwork, and a certain restful amplitude in everything
which was a feature of most of the true Colonial houses.

Thomas Janvier quotes from some anonymous writer of an earlier day:
"From the crest of this small eminence was an enticing prospect; on
the south, the woods and dells and winding road from the lands of
Lispenard, through the valley where was Borrowson's tavern; and on the
north and west the plains of Greenwich Village made up a rich prospect
to gaze on."

Lispenard's Salt Meadows lie still, I suppose, under Canal Street
North. I have not been able to place exactly Borrowson's tavern. Our
old friend, Minetta Water, which flowed through the site of
Washington Square, made a large pond at the foot of Richmond
Hill,--somewhere about the present junction of Bedford and Downing
streets. In winter it offered wonderful skating; in summer it was a
dream of sylvan loveliness, and came to be called Burr's Pond, after
that enigmatic genius who later lived in the house.

One more description--and the best--of Richmond Hill as it was the
century before last; this one written by good Mistress Abigail, wife
of John Adams, one-time vice-president of the United States, during
their occupancy of the place. Said she, openly adoring the Hill at all
times:

"In natural beauty it might vie with the most delicious spot
I ever saw. It is a mile and a half from the city of New
York. The house stands upon an eminence; at an agreeable
distance flows the noble Hudson, bearing upon its bosom
innumerable small vessels laden with the fruitful
productions of the adjacent country. Upon my right hand are
fields beautifully variegated with grass and grain, to a
great extent, like the valley of Honiton in Devonshire. Upon
my left the city opens to view, intercepted here and there
by a rising ground and an ancient oak. In front beyond the
Hudson, the Jersey shores present the exuberance of a rich,
well-cultivated soil. In the background is a large
flower-gard