Evening star., 1933-08-13

sell Young and dozens Of others. The
horse that was his chief means Of news
purveyance was remembered, too, for
two horse heads still stare down from
inches near the top Of the 50-foot high
memorial, and the main arch is con-
structed in the shape Of horseshoe.
A statue of Mercury, reporter for the
gods, found its place in a high alcove,
and the weather vane was made OF
crossed sword and quill.
Then Townsend constructed, near his
28-room Den" stone coach house.
Oddly enough, in little alcove on its
facade he placed bas-relief head OF
Gen. Robert E. Lee.
Townsend reached the peak of his
fame while writing at Gapland. He had
only to raise his head to look across
miles and miles Of Maryland lowlands
as he wrote Katy of Catoctin." Tales
of Gapland," Columbus in Love-" and
Poems of Men and Events" His in
come scared to more than 100000 a
year.
Rubber-tired carriages with resplend-
emily arranged footmen brought the aris-
tocratic, literary and diplomatic great to
his door At his table the finest wine
flowed, the most choice meat was carved
and the most delectable French pastry
was the fare After dinner guests would
betake themselves to the conservatory
to listen to fine music.
Constructs Mausoleum.
But the ebbing years brought on more
serious thought. Death became more
than Just an eventuality So Townsend
brought back his workmen and they
constructed mauSoleum to be reached
by winding path about 100 yards long
through berry bushes and leafy NAPLES.
It was fashioned in the same architec-
ture as the houses. Four vaults were
made-for his wife, his two children
and himself. Over the iron grillwork
doorway he placed a marble tympanum
bearing the cryptic message in script
Goodnight, Gath"
The mausoleum still stands, but it is
empty, and the top is overgrown with
weeds, the lock on the grill-work door is
rusted and battered, and the interior is
musty.
Fate had its plan for Gapland. Grad
ually the Townsend fortune was eaten
away. Gath sold his pictures, some of
his furniture. The authors wife died.
His children went elsewhere-leaving
him lonely man inhabiting a youthful
dream. It was too much for him. He
left and died in Philadelphia in 1914.
Six years later his children sold the
estate for about one -hundredth part of
its million dollar cost Later 1t became
Summer resort, but vandals despoiled
1t In the Winter and 1t slumped into
decrepitude.
Now Only Hollow Shell.
Today the whole of GapIand Is a hol-
low shell. Mirrors, fixtures, furnishings
movable has been taken.
Legends of the Townsend fortune sent
romantic treasure seekers burrowing
into walls and floors, leaving Jagged
holes. Small boys threw rocks at the
windows. Doors were ripped of to
make firewood.
Even the wall paper on the narrow
upstairs hall, the low roof of which
slopes to point on one side, has been
torn away. On the conservatory floor
lies the sounding board of piano that
once resounded with the ditties of the
day. 'S
Only the fireplaces, the woodwork of
RED, green and blue and the skeleton of
the townsend dream remain. The chill
oren OF mountaineers play on sagging
porches that once echoed to the footballs
of Washingtons elite. Vagabonds sonne-
times sleep in rooms where the Nations
great once forgot affairs of state in
merriment.
Use Living Room on Sunday.
But once week one room in the
fve buildings of the estate takes on
new life 1t is the living room of THE
Hall, where Mrs. Townsend once served
tea to visiting dowagers During week
days it is boarded up. But If you ap-
proach on Sunday morning you prob
ably will hear the chanted strains of
Jesus Saves" echoing from that spa
clous room. For there the folk of
the Gapland country hold their Sun
day services.
1t must have been at sunset that
townsend paused In the gap to dream
his dream. For then the moon has
begun to rise just as red bathes the
Western sky. Shadows that inhabit the
buildings Of Gapland creep out to meet
those edging from beneath the sur
rounding wood. and in the distance to
the east the lights of MiddletoWn begin
to flicker little dots like light seen
through pin pricks in window shade.
Perhaps you will stand there talking
to a mountaineer who assures you there
are no "spooks" in Gapland and that
he slept in one Of the neglected houses
once to prove 1t. You will look I'D and
across at balls of cloud in the evening
sky. Then II lightning plays behind 1t,
setting 1t of In bas-relief, and flicker
ing for moment over the ruin that is
Gapland, you will understand Town
sends dream and comprehend that