Once the extravagant summer home of Johns Hopkins and the site he originally indeed for the University bearing his name, the Clifton Mansion, an Italian villa located three miles from the Homewood campus, now reflects years of neglect. The edifice has slowly deteriorated and unless a much needed new roof is installed, the house could be seeing its last days very soon.
Built in 1801 by Henry Thompson, and later purchased by Hopkins in 1836 for $15,800 at an auction, the property is currently owned by the City of Baltimore. Civic Works, a nonprofit organization, leases Clifton mansion for $1 a year from the city.
Civic Works Construction Coordinator Chris Wilson, his company, and the descendants of both Johns Hopkins and Henry Thompson, are trying to raise the necessary funds to return Clifton to the home it used to be.
Their first goal is to repair the roof, which if left unrepaired, could ruin any hope of ever renovating the rest of the home. "It is estimated at $5 to $6 million to restore the whole structure," Wilson said.
The city has recently committed to the cost of repairing the roof, but Wilson does not feel that this money will be seen any day soon. After a 1994 fire in one of the rooms, the city agreed to pay $50,000 in insurance coverage to the restoration of the damage. That money has yet to be received.
The University that Hopkins envisioned on the Clifton property has not made any financial contributions to the restoration process either.
"The University needs to focus its attention and the resources it is able to raise from public and private sources on preserving these two historic treasures [The Homewood House and Evergreen] for which it is responsible," said Dennis O'Shea, spokesman for the university. "We certainly applaud and are supportive of the efforts of Civic Works and the Hopkins family to preserve and restore Clifton, but our resources need to be focused on Homewood and Evergreen."
During its glory days, Clifton was one of the nicest residences in the area. Always wanting the best, Hopkins imported bricks from Italy for renovation of the property when it was under his ownership, had the molding done by hand, adorned the walls and ceilings with hand painted designs, and even added an eighty-five foot tower (so he could watch his imports arrive into the harbor.)
Anyone who was anyone was invited to visit the estate, including the Prince of Whales, later to become King of England, Edward VII. Hopkins built the perfect home and often snuck away from the city life, seeking refuge at Clifton.
Wilson has done significant research into the history of the home. "The property was open to the public by admission ticket, as the grounds were known as an opulent horticultural exhibition," he said
Today there is very little perfection left. The wood is rotting, the paint is chipping, the plaster is falling off the walls, and even the occasional mouse can be seen scurrying down the hallway that once was used to receive royalty. The walls, which used to be decorated with murals, one of which was of the Bay of Naples, another of famous authors such as Shakespeare, are currently painted over with layers and layers of plaster and paint.
The controversy surrounding the condition of the home is not something that has just come about recently. In a letter to the editor of The Evening Sun on Nov. 23, 1938, reader Ida N. Gambrill wrote, "Suppose when King George and Queen Elizabeth come to Washington they should express a wish to see the home where Edward VII was entertained in Baltimore? Imagine the embarrassment of their hosts if they should be forced to show the interior of the house to the royal guests?"
The five hundred acres that Hopkins accumulated around Clifton while he was alive where given upon his death in 1873 to a Board of Trustees who were to establish the University and Medical School.
In her 1929 book Johns Hopkins: A Silhouette, author Helen Hopkins quotes a conversation Johns had about Clifton with one of his grounds men, " ... it is to be the site of a great university, a place where the young men of coming generations will have the opportunity which I have always longed for. Young men will study great things here under these trees that thee and I have planted."
It appears that the $7 million dollar contribution that Hopkins made towards the foundation of the University was not enough to see his wishes come true; never have there been any students studying under those trees, nor do most students know the property exists. In his last will and testament, Johns stipulated that the university should not dispose of the property or of his stock, but should use it as an investment.
After a fall in the price of the shares of B & O Railroad stocks, the board of trustees decided otherwise. "The trustees considered the land at Clifton to be "malarial' and nearly surrounded by saloons and taverns, an undesirable influence on the university students," Wilson said.
The community expressed great wishes that the university should be built at Clifton. An editorial that appeared in the Catonsville newspaper, The Argus, on May 6, 1882, expressed the community's view that "In a university village as Clifton would be, from the time the student wakes up until he retires, his life would be a university life."
This idea contrasted with those of the members of the Board of Trustees. Busy city life was instead favored and it was decided that Homewood would be a better location for the University.
Before being condemned by the city in 1895 for a price of $710,000, the Clifton property was used by the university as athletic fields, and Hopkins' home was turned into locker rooms. The university used the funds from the sale of Clifton to help build the university at the Homewood campus.
The city built tennis courts, an 18-hole golf course, a swimming pool and baseball, football, and lacrosse fields on the estate's property, using the mansion to house headquarters for the Department of Recreation and Parks.
The property served many purposes, all of which helped destroy the qualities of the mansion which Johns loved. At one point Hopkins' basement, which once housed an expansive wine collection, was used as a garage for golf carts.
Architecturally, much was changed as well. "Suspended ceilings were installed not only hiding ornately decorated ceilings, but damaging the very plaster on which the decorations were painted," Wilson said. Damage over the years from fire, a collapsed chimney, a leaking roof, and neglect, have left the Clifton property in its dilapidated state.
Presently, the Clifton mansion isn't only in need of financial contributions. Visitors are welcome to visit or tour the home, located in Clifton Park, or even help with the restoration process. For more information on volunteering, contact Christina Youngston, Volunteer Coordinator for Civic Works at cyoungston@civicworks.com.
