Sunday, August 20, 2017

Dr. Albert Philson Brubaker (1852-1943)

Dr. Albert Philson Brubaker
born: 12 August 1852 in New Lexington, Somerset County, PA 
died: 29 April 1943 in Philadelphia, PA 
buried: Laurel, Philadelphia
father: Dr. Henry Brubaker (1827-1889)
mother:  Emeline Philson (1830-1898) 
wife: Edith Bentley Needles  (1856-1932), married 27 September 1883no children
1874 – educated at Jefferson Medical College

In 1883, Albert married Edith Bentley Needles, a Quaker whose family can trace its lineage back to Francis Cooke (who came to America on the Mayflower).

In 1888, Albert wrote A Compend of Human Physiology (published by P. Blakiston, Son & Co., 1012 Walnut Street). In the book, Albert is listed as “Demonstrator of physiology in the Jefferson Medical College; Professor of physiology, Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery; Member of the Pathological Society of Philadelphia.”


My great-grandfather, Edwin Schall Brubaker, is seated in the bottom row, between two women. I believe the man standing at right is his brother, Dr. Albert Philson Brubaker.

The following is copied from the Powelton Village history blog.:

Our Dr. Frankenstein? A True Tale for Halloween

Dr. Albert P. Brubaker (1852-1943) was a physiologist. Following in the footsteps of his father, Henry Brubaker who received a degree in medicine from Jefferson Medical College, Albert received his degree from Jefferson in 1874. Henry had returned to western Pennsylvania to provide medical services in Somerset County. Albert stayed in Philadelphia to teach and do research beginning his career at the Charity Hospital of Philadelphia. In 1880, he joined the faculty of the Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery (later merged into the University of Pennsylvania Dental School), a position he held for 22 years. 

In 1883, he married Edith Needles, the daughter of a druggist. They lived with her family for a number of years. When the Drexel Institute was opened, he became the lecturer on Physiology and Hygiene. It was probably about this time that they moved to 105 N. 34th St. where they lived for about 35 years. Edith, meanwhile, continued her studies by taking courses in biology at the University of Pennsylvania.

In 1897, Albert joined the faculty at Jefferson. He had already held various positions there and it was at Jefferson that he pursued his research on physiology. He also published several textbooks that were widely used and republished numerous times. He was a member of the College of Physicians of Philadelphia, the Academy of Natural Sciences, the American Physiological Society and the American Philosophical Society. In his later years, he was active in the Ethical Culture Society. In 1916, the graduating class at Jefferson dedicated a volume to him. In it they described him as a “strict disciplinarian… yet most affable and considerate towards students and colleagues; tolerant of all truths, endowed with singularly happy equipoise, broad sympathies and all-around completeness.” Edith was active in the New Century Club and became its president in 1905. Later, she was very active in the Visiting Nurses Association. In about 1918, they moved to 3426 Powelton Ave. where they lived for many years.

Brubaker was a scientist who wanted to understand the workings of the human body. One of his more unusual experiments examined the role of electricity in animating the body. It was observed by a reporter from the Philadelphia Inquirer and described in an article on the front page in January 1900. Although it was a serious investigation, the story reads more like the script for a scary silent film.

     "When the negro policy dealer, Robert W. Brown, who murdered his wife, Lucinda, more than a year ago, was being dragged to the gallows in Moyamensing Prison on Thursday, he shudderingly shrieked, ‘My body will go to the dissecting table – to the dissecting table!’

(Phila. Inquirer, Jan. 12, 1900)

     "His religious advisers admonished him to think of his soul and not of his body.
     "Pleading for delay for both soul and body, the wretched stabber fell through the fatal trap of the very moment when he turned his head to implore the keeper at his side for more time to speak.
     "In this act the knot back of his left ear slipped to the base of the brain, midway between the ears, and consciousness expired instantaneously at the end of the rope.
     "There were those who wanted, in the interest of science, to give the murder is wished for opportunity to complete the suspended speech. Not a second was wasted after he was pronounced dead. An ambulance, with clanging bell and the right-of-way, flew through the streets to the Jefferson College. In ten minutes after he was legally dead he was resting on a table in the physiological laboratory.
     "Around the table were three of the most famous physiologists in the scientific world. They were Drs. Judson Deland, Albert P. Brubaker and A. Hewson. Dr. Deland had charge of the demonstration.
     "A Startling Question.
     "Could motion and life be restored to that inanimate body?
     "For an answer to this question the three scientists devoted their energies and resources of their skill and genius.
     “They had all taught that certain nerve centres controlled motion and action. In that eminent body, the College of Physicians of Philadelphia, of which the professors are members, the theory has often been advanced that there is no physiological necessity for early death. Here was a subject dead to all ordinary tests. Was he scientifically dead?
     "A sharp wire, charged with electricity, was applied to the various nerve centres of the body and brain. A superstitious layman would have been horrified at the result. Brown raised first his right arm and then his left. His had moved. His mouth twitched in a compulsive grin. the cords of the neck swelled and the mouth opened as if he would complete his interrupted speech on the scaffold. The hands clenched one after the other. A leg was drawn up and then extended.
     “Unceasingly electric wire prodded centre after centre in the nervous organism. One would have thought that a new Cagliostro was at work. At a fresh touch from the thaumaturgist plying the needle the body sat upright.
“Every Sign of Life.
     “Amazing enough was all this. There was more. The eyes opened. The heart beat. There seems to be breath, for the organs of respiration were agitated.
     “Would he walk? Would he talk?
     “But, placed on the floor, the body fell back limp. The lips opened without sound. Science has demonstrated wonders, but life could not be brought back with motion. The soul has gone beyond returning breath. The electric needle and made Brown do everything but walk and talk.
     “In less than an hour the nerve centres themselves became dead. The three scientists surrendered the effort at resuscitation. The limp body of the murder was removed to the anatomical department on the top floor.
     “There Dr. Brubaker, who is the demonstrator of physiology in the Jefferson Medical College, and the author of text books used in that institution, lectured yesterday afternoon to the second and third year men on Brown's body. He explained to them the operations practiced upon the subject, and the resulting phenomena. Brown had died in a religious hysteria. By the slipping of the noose the neck had not been broken. The brain had been congested. The heart has been remarkably strong, beating fifteen minutes after drop fell, and artificial resuscitation afterward did not seem difficult."
     (Phila. Inquirer, Jan. 13, 1900, pg. 1)

Monday, February 20, 2017

Edgehill and “Boxbriar Cottage”

Edgehill, with “Boxbriar Cottage” in the background, in the summer of 1995.
Photo by Susan Brubaker Knapp.

When Rob and I moved from Lexington, Kentucky, to Charlottesville, Virginia, in 1992, we lived for four years in a small house on a large estate known as Edgehill. Our landlords lived in Edgehill, and rented us what they referred to as “the cottage” and we called “Boxbriar Cottage” because it was surrounded with boxwood, some almost 20 feet tall. It is ridiculous how much we loved this place. It wasn’t just that we were young and in love, soon to be engaged and married. It was a charmed place. You could feel how special it was the minute you stepped on the grounds. 

According to most sources, the cottage was built in 1799, so it was close to reaching its 200th birthday when we moved in. The big brick house was built in 1828 by Thomas Jefferson’s daughter, Martha Jefferson Randolph (1772-1836), and her husband, Thomas Mann Randolph Jr., and then by their son, Thomas Jefferson Randolph (1792-1875). Martha died in this house in 1836. It was rebuilt in 1916, after a fire gutted the interior. But the outer walls are original.  

Thomas Mann Randolph, Jr.
Artist unknown
Martha Jefferson Randolph
Portrait by Thomas Sully
Thomas Jefferson Randolph
Portrait by Charles Wilson Peale

In the early 1990s when we lived there, Edgehill had a large lawn, with a non-working swimming pool, and many massive mature tulip poplars. Some of them were fitted with cables to protect them against lightning strikes while we were there.

A peahen named Emily wandered the grounds. Her mate, Percy, had been killed by an owl before we arrived on the scene, and our landlords were very protective of her. She often was in my garden or around Boxbriar cottage, and when they were away, we were charged with feeding her (cracked Carr’s water crackers, quartered grapes, and walnuts). Behind Edgehill, the land drops off, and there was a pond. There were heavy woods around the structures, and we often saw deer, skunks and foxes.

In front of the house was a clearing surrounded by boxwood, with brick-lined beds in a rectangular shape, with a path and a circular bed in the middle, where Percy was buried. When we moved in, the garden was filled with grass and weeds, and I spent many weekend mornings out there weeding and planting. I often wondered how old the beds were, and what the gardens had looked like then.

Spring 1993

Summer 1995 or 1996
Summer 1995 or 1996
Edgehill, seen through the garden in front of the cottage.

The main structure was two rooms downstairs, with a fireplace in the wall between the two rooms, and two upstairs, with dormer windows. It had a porch that ran the length of the house, with three glass doors leading inside from the porch. There was an outdoor staircase from the room we used as a bedroom, probably added later as a fire escape, and at some point, a small wing was added to the back. Downstairs, it housed a kitchen, and upstairs, two full bathrooms and a laundry room. (The washer once leaked so badly that water poured through the kitchen light fixture downstairs.) The photo below shows the main entrance into the kitchen, in the new wing.  The roof, which was asphalt shingle when we first moved there, was replaced with a solid copper roof and downspouts in the summer of 1995. Behind the kitchen was a stone-walled patio.

We moved out in 1996, when Rob was offered a job at The Charlotte Observer. I remember sobbing as I drove away. How we loved this place!

Our cat, Beans, in the kitchen window.
Probably on the lookout for Sneaky Snake,” a very large blacksnake that patrolled around the house. 

These photos show the path from the gravel parking area, through the boxwoods, to our door. We had a major blizzard one year, with about a foot of snow, and lost power for something like four days. I pulled out my grandmother’s Dutch oven and cooked over a wood fire in the fireplace.

Here’s the road from our gravel parking area down the hill on a frosty morning:

Edgehill, winter 1995
Rob walking down the drive, winter 1995

Rob and I on the porch – summer 1993

Stone outside Edgehill reads: This Property was owned by Thomas Jefferson, to whom it was left in his father's will, dated July 13, 1757.

Marker outside Edgehill

Beyond our small gravel parking area was a pasture with horses, and it was close enough to Interstate 64 that you could sometimes hear the traffic. This was where we cut down a cedar for our Christmas tree each year.

Photo of Edgehill from the National Park Service website, showing the “Chinese lattice railing” that was gone by the time we lived in the cottage.

From the National Park Service website (

“In view of Monticello, Edgehill was the home of Thomas Jefferson Randolph, favorite grandson of Thomas Jefferson. The stately brick house was built for Randolph in 1828, his family having outgrown the 1799 frame house built for his father, Thomas Mann Randolph, Jr., husband of Jefferson's daughter Martha. The house was designed and constructed by the University of Virginia builders William B. Phillips and Malcolm F. Crawford, who continued the Jeffersonian style into the antebellum period. Specific Jeffersonian features are the Tuscan porch with Chinese lattice railing and the Tuscan entablatures. In 1829 Mrs. Thomas Jefferson Randolph opened a small school in the 1799 dwelling, which had been moved a short distance to make way for the present house. The school was continued by her daughters until 1896. The main house was gutted by fire in 1916, but was sympathetically rebuilt within the original walls. Edgehill is located north of Shadwell on State Route 22 and just north of its intersection with I-64, over one mile east of Charlottesville. It is a private residence, and is not open to the public.”


The Edgehill Plantation Historic Marker reads:

The land was patented in 1735. The old house was built in 1790; the new in 1828. Here lived Thomas Mann Randolph, Governor of Virginia, 1819-1822, who married Martha, daughter of Thomas Jefferson.


From the Monticello website (

“Edgehill was the plantation of Martha Jefferson Randolph and Thomas Mann Randolph, and later the chief residence of their eldest son, Thomas Jefferson Randolph. The land was part of a Randolph family inheritance of 2,400 acres near Shadwell belonging to Thomas Mann Randolph's father, Thomas, Sr. When Thomas Jefferson's daughter married Thomas Mann Randolph in 1790, they moved to Edgehill, although the family often stayed at Monticello. The original house was built around 1799. The family lived there until a second, larger home was built by Thomas Jefferson Randolph in 1828. In 1836, the family opened up a small girls' school known as the Edgehill School, which ran in some form until 1896.[1] In 1916, the original house was gutted by fire, but later rebuilt.


  1. Mary Randolph Brown McAdie, addendum to The Domestic Life of Thomas Jefferson (Charlottesville, Va.: Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation, 1939), 374-9.

Further Sources

This is Jefferson’s plan for the house, which I found on the Massachusetts Historical Society’s website (
Edgehill: house (plan and elevation), before 1798
by Thomas Jefferson
Identification numbers: N6; K170
28.2 cm x 20 cm (11-1/8" x 7-7/8")
(Massachusetts Historical Society photo)
My husband proposed to me in the garden in front of Boxbriar Cottage. When we married, I made him this watercolor as a wedding gift:

From the Encyclopedia Virginia

Martha Jefferson Randolph (1772–1836)

Martha Jefferson Randolph was the daughter of Thomas Jefferson and the wife of Thomas Mann Randolph, who served as governor of Virginia from 1819 to 1822. She grew up at Monticello and spent time in Williamsburg, Richmond, and Philadelphia before accompanying her widowed father to Paris, France, where she attended the Abbaye Royale de Panthemont, a prestigious convent school. After she returned to Virginia, she married and bore twelve children, eleven of whom survived to adulthood. Although she was the daughter of a president, the wife of a governor, and arguably the most highly educated woman in Virginia, Randolph's life was in many ways representative. Widely admired for her intelligence, sociability, and conversational skills, she was an exemplar of genteel white womanhood who was said to possess a "perfect temper" and who immersed herself in the trials and joys of marriage, motherhood, and plantation life. Randolph and her children lived mainly at Monticello, although her husband owned the nearby plantation Edgehill. Occasionally during her father's presidency, and throughout his retirement, she acted as hostess. Her presence reinforced Jefferson's image as a devoted family man with a stable domestic life, though fulfilling this role in her father's life may have exacerbated her already strained marriage. Both father and husband struggled and ultimately failed to remain solvent. After their deaths in 1826 and 1828, respectively, Randolph lived with her married children. She died at Edgehill on October 10, 1836.

The “Edgehill portrait” of Thomas Jefferson by Gilbert Stuart is thus named because it once hung at Edgehill.

The “Edgehill” Portrait of Thomas Jefferson

May 18, 1989 – May 1, 1992
Portrait Gallery
8th and F Streets, NW
Washington, DC
Location: 2nd Floor, Rotunda
The painting of American president and gentleman scholar Thomas Jefferson was painted by renowned American artist Gilbert Stuart. The Edgehill portrait--which once hung at Edgehill, the Virginia residence of one of Jefferson's great-granddaughters--is jointly owned by the Portrait Gallery and the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation in Charlottesville, Va. The portrait goes on view alternately at the gallery and the foundation for 3-year periods. In 1902, the portrait was sold to a distant relative of Jefferson who lived in Scotland. Finally, in 1927, the portrait was returned to America.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Lydia Ann Marquis McDanel

Lydia Ann Marquis McDanel
born: 19 Feb. 1842 in New Brighton, Beaver County, Pennsylvania
died: 18 Nov. 1928 in Detroit, Michigan
buried: Grove Cemetery, New Brighton, PA
father: James M. Marquis (1814-1880)
mother: Elizabeth Sawyer (1813-1846) 
husband: Richard Baxter McDanel (1844-1912), married 19 March, 1868
children: Frederick (1868-1926), Lewis (1870-died young), Bertha (1871-1957), Frank (1873-1932), Orrin Palmer (1879-1932), Richard Baxter Jr. (1880-1956), Elizabeth Lydia (1882-1925), Anna (1887-1948)

Lydia is my great-great grandmother. Here is information about her father and grandfather:

“James Marquis, a farmer and coal dealer, was a son of Joseph Marquis, a native of England, a minister of the Methodist Episcopal church, and a printer, the latter occupation being necessary to eke out the small and uncertain salary of the member of the clergy in that day. James Marquis married (first) Elizabeth Sawyer, (second) Mary Knowles.  [SOURCE: John W. (John Woolf) Jordan. Genealogical and personal history of Beaver County, Pennsylvania (Volume 2). page 47 of 7] 

After Baxter’s death, she lived in Detroit with her daughter Anna until her death in 1928. 

Lydia (oldest woman, seated at right) is shown here with her husband and her children.

Detail from family shot above.

I believe Lydia could be the oldest woman in the back, in the hat, in this photo. Her son, Frederick, my great-grandfather, is the man in the back.