After responding to an advertisement placed in local papers by the Park Commission seeking to buy a large plot of land for a public open space, Lloyd Nicholas Rogers (1787- 1860) sold the Druid Hill estate for $121,000 in cash and $363,027 in city stock. Though the cantankerous Rogers tried to back out of the deal late, claiming the city lacked the authority to issue bonds outside the official city limits for the purchase, Mayor Swann, in one of his many questionable abuses of power, got the deal pushed through.
Perhaps Mayor Swann saw the writing on the wall concerning the city’s water supply issues, when during the Druid Hill Park inauguration ceremonies he stated that:
“…In addition to numerous springs heading in all the principal ravines, and furnishing a liberal supply of water for ordinary wants, the close proximity to the Jones’ Falls, and the great receiving reservoir of the city, gives assurance that the most extensive arrangements may be safely made for the lakes and fountains at a comparatively trifling expenditure. A resort to artificial supply is always to be preferred in a park, where the volume of water cannot be relied upon from natural flow….[Then upping his flowery poetic waxings, continued]…the soft and trembling shadows of the surrounding trees and hills as they fall upon a placid sheet of water, and the brilliant light which the crystal surface reflects in pure sunshine, mirroring too, at times, in its resplendent bosom, all the cerulean depth and sunny whiteness of the overhanging sky, give it almost a magical effect in a beautiful landscape.”
In 1864 the city began to utilize the natural geography of Druid Park as they made their “cerulean” vision a reality. A deep ravine formed by a stream that traveled southeast from the boat lake toward the Jones Falls was selected as the site for the new reservoir. Civil engineer Robert Martin developed plans and constructed a giant wall of mud that became the largest earthen dam in America (at that time). Steam excavators were used for the first time in the city to move 500,000 cubic yards of earth. The dam itself consisted of a water tight clay core, or puddle wall, surrounded by steep banks of soil, and was supported by a stone wall laid in cement running the entire length of the dam. Earthen banks were laid in thin layers and pressed by horse drawn rollers. When completed in 1871, the dam supported a reservoir that covered 55 acres, reached a depth of 94 feet (averaging 30 feet), and sat at an elevation 217 feet above mid-tide. Towering over the surrounding park at a height of 119 feet, the dam was 750 feet long, with a width of 600 feet at the base tapering up to 60 feet at the top.In 1864 work started on the reservoir, and by 1865, seven 30-inch pipes were taking water in and out of the reservoir: three from Hampden, three to Mt. Royal, and a drain pipe. Things didn’t necessarily go smoothly…
The year work on the dam began in Baltimore, the whole world read about the horror of the Dale Dyke reservoir in Sheffield England, where flooding from the spring thaw caused the dam to fail. Eight hundred and fifty-five million gallons of water rushed through the valley at 18 mph, killing 244 people. The public saw eerie similarities between the earthen dam in England and the new dam in Druid Park. Though Dale Dyke was at a higher elevation, the new reservoir in Baltimore was in much closer proximity to the population center and held a greater amount of water. In addition, when water was drawn off from the reservoir in 1866, it was confirmed that the seven pipes traveling through the base of the earthen dam had buckled and collapsed under its weight. The broken pipes at the bottom of the dam posed the risk of significant leakage that would compromise the integrity of the earthen structure. It appeared that a complete overhaul of the dam was necessary.A board of experts consisting of engineers Isaac Ridgeway Trimble (1802-1888), Charles Pratt Manning (1817-1886), and John H. Tegmyer (1822-1901) were appointed by the city to see if the new dam in Baltimore posed a similar risk to the catastrophe in England. The board concluded that they saw the “impossibility of failure from anything like similar causes” because the puddle wall had been constructed properly and the banks had been sufficiently compacted. Most importantly, the board proposed to replace the seven broken pipes with five new mains enveloped in stone arches that would not penetrate the puddle wall, exiting through the south side of the dam. Over 140 years later the dam has continued to hold strong, and in 1971 it was named a National Historic Civil Engineering landmark by the American Society of Civil Engineers.
Ultimately $1,000,000 was spent to repair the cracked pipes, and the reservoir was reduced to holding only 429 million gallons of water (as opposed to the initial goal of one billion). By 1871 Druid Lake was complete.** Over the next four years a west high service reservoir was added at a height of 320 feet above mean tide to service areas at higher elevations in the northwest part of town. By 1872, faced with more serious droughts, the city once again realized its supply of water was not sufficient, and finally turned its eyes towards the Gunpowder. Ironically, the $700,000 difference between the projected cost and the cost after the repairs was almost identical to that saved by selecting the waterworks on Jones Falls over the much higher volume project on the Gunpowder River. (Eben Dennis)
* The “park tax,” as it was known, would dwindle to 12 percent in 1874, 9 percent in 1882, 3 percent in 1932, then disappear completely.
**The resulting body of water had been known during the first half of its construction as Lake Chapman, after Unionist Mayor and head of the Water Board at the time, John Lee Chapman (1811-1880). Since much of Chapman’s tenure as mayor was characterized by the bitter partisan feuding of the Civil War period, it came as little surprise when his Democratic successor, Robert T. Banks (1822-1901), and the City Council voted unanimously to change the name to Druid Lake just four months after he left office in early 1868.
Bowditch, Eden and Draddy, Anne. Druid Hill Park : the Heart of Baltimore (Charleston, SC: History Press, 2008.)
Cox, J. Journal Proceedings of the First Branch City Council of Baltimore (Baltimore, 1866.)
Coyle, Wilbur F. The Mayors of Baltimore (Baltimore, MD : reprinted from the Baltimore Municpal Journal, 1919.)
Hall, Clayton Coleman. Baltimore: Its History and Its Peoples (New York: Lewis Historical Publishing Co., 1912.)
Howard, William Travis. Public Health Administration and the Natural History of Disease in Baltimore, 1797-1920 (Washington, DC: Carnegie Institution, 1924.)
Inauguration Ceremonies and Address of Hon. Thomas Swann on the Opening of Druid Hill Park, October 19, 1860 (Baltimore, Md: Bull and Tuttle, 1860.)
Passano File, H. Furlong Baldwin Library, Maryland Historical Society.
Scharf, J. Thomas. History of Baltimore City and County (Baltimore, MD: Regional Publishing Company, 1971.)
Weishampel, Jr., J.F.. The Stranger in Baltimore: A New Hand Book, Containing Sketches of the Early History and Present Condition of Baltimore, with a Description of Its Notable Localities, and Other Information (Baltimore, 1866.)
“The Park.” Baltimore Sun, June 16, 1860.
“Mayor’s Message.” Baltimore Sun, January 5, 1865.
“Local Matters.” Baltimore Sun, January 18, 1865.
“Local Matters.” Baltimore Sun, March 4, 1865.
“Local Matters.” Baltimore Sun, November 5, 1867.
“Committe on Water Investigate the Circumstances….” Baltimore Sun, November 12, 1867.
“Local Matters.” Baltimore Sun, March 18, 1868.
“Baltimore Water Supply.” Baltimore Sun, August 25, 1869.
Baltimore City Services History http://cityservices.baltimorecity.gov/dpw/waterwastewater02/waterquality3.html
Since last month’s Hampden Reservoir post, I have taken more delight in my commute as I pass by Roosevelt Park, going to and returning from work via the Falls Road exit of the JFX; I can almost see the half moon shape of the reservoir on my left as I climb the hill approaching 36th Street. The commute home every day also served as a reminder that I needed to finish the story of the waterworks. The Hampden Reservoir was actually one of of a chain of three bodies of water, beginning with Lake Roland, and ending at the Mount Royal reservoir, where fresh water entered the city. As I began this installment of the waterworks series, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that this second forgotten reservoir in the system is also an integral part of my daily routine. My commute literally bisects its old location.
After an ordinance was passed by the City Council in 1857 to provide additional water to Baltimore City, there were two options for sources: (1) to increase the amount of water taken from the Jones Falls by damming further upstream, or (2) to introduce water from the Gunpowder Falls. The engineering costs of bringing water from the Gunpowder were estimated to cost over $2.1 million, compared to around $1.3 million for construction of new works on the Jones Falls.* The Gunpowder was estimated to produce 65 million gallons of water during the dry season, while the latter was believed to provide around 20 million gallons per day. The Council chose the cheaper option.
Construction of the new waterworks from the Jones Falls began in 1858, eight miles north of the city, at a narrow point near the North Central Railroad Station. What was formerly called Swann Lake was dammed up to become what we now know as Lake Roland. A massive conduit was concurrently built connecting it to the Hampden Reservoir. Shortly thereafter a conduit was also excavated going south to the Mount Royal Reservoir just north of the city boundary. The waterworks were completed and fully operational by 1862.
The site of the Mount Royal Reservoir lay just west of the Northern Central Railroad tracks on the former site of the Mount Royal Mill property (previously the tract had been owned by Charles Carroll of Carrollton who sold it to Solomon Birckhead in 1801). The most notable feature of the reservoir was a large central fountain (see image below), similar to the one in present day Druid Lake, ornamenting the center of the reservoir with a stream of water bubbling high into the air. By 1863 just over half of the city’s 38,881 buildings received water that was delivered from the Mount Royal Reservoir.
Even before the waterworks was fully operational it was discovered that this new source was once again insufficient for the growing population of the city. On top of the population boom during these decades, the Civil War resulted in a large number of Federal troops being stationed in, passing through, or being cared for in Baltimore hospitals. In addition to increasing the demand, sick soldiers carried typhoid, dysentery, and other diseases which were spread as a result of poor sanitation and sewage from cesspools leaching into city springs and neighborhood wells. During hot and dry periods of the summer the system would run short of supply. The Water Department’s response to the shortage was to cut down on demand by raising the price of water. The increase in cost resulted in contractors not connecting their working class tenements to the city mains, which forced tenants to rely on the same backyard pumps that had been poisoning them in the first place. As usual, the city’s low lying poor were hit hardest. Sewage from cesspools leached into neighborhood wells and polluted the springs of the city, increasing the demand for clean water from the mains.
Less than a year after the completion of the waterworks, the City Council passed an ordinance authorizing a $300,000 loan to purchase the land nearby at Lake Chapman to begin building what was to become Druid Lake. Even Druid Lake did not alleviate the supply problem when it was completed in 1865. It took severe droughts from 1869 through 1872 to finally get the city to seriously consider the Gunpowder as a permanent water source. The original price difference of $2.1 to $1.3 million payed a direct cost in human life and well-being.
In 1910 the Mount Royal Reservoir was abandoned by the City Water Department and transferred to the Parks Department. In 1924 the City Park Board demolished the reservoir and removed 50,000 cubic feet of earth, turning the site into park land. At various times proposals to turn the site into a stadium, a swimming pool, and an art museum were discussed, but due to overwhelming dissent the project never got underway. The site remained park land until 1959, when it was bisected by the northbound entrance to the new JFX highway off of North Avenue. Today you can still see the monumental entrance posts to Druid Park via Mount Royal Terrace that stand at the base of the reservoir’s original location as you drive past on North Avenue. The keen observer can glimpse the remains of the reservoir’s embankments as they pass by on the light rail. (Eben Dennis)
To be continued…next post – Conduit: Druid Park Lake, the Gunpowder, and Baltimore Waterworks 1860s- 1880s.
*This does not include the cost of purchasing real estate, water rights, or distribution of water mains inside the city.
** This system was upgraded to a steam pump system around the time of the annexation in 1886.
McCauley, Louis. Maryland Historical Prints. Baltimore, Md: Schneidereith and Sons, 1975.
Scharf, J. Thomas. History of Baltimore City and County. Baltimore, MD: Regional Publishing Company, 1971.
Passano File, H. Furlong Baldwin Library, Maryland Historical Society.
O’Neill, Francis. Index of Obituaries and Marriages in the Baltimore Sun, vol. 1, 1866-1870. Westminster, MD, 1996.
Mount Royal Reservoir and Its Surroundings From the Air. Baltimore Municipal Journal. Feb, 10, 1922.
Howard, William Travis. Public Health Administration and the Natural History of Disease in Baltimore, 1797-1920. Washington, DC: Carnegie Institution, 1924.
Bromley Atlas of Baltimore City and Vicinity, 1907.
Hopkins Atlas of Baltimore, 1877.