History
Thomas Fairfax, 6th Lord Fairfax of Cameron granted the title to the 322-acre (130 ha) Raspberry Plain property to blacksmith Joseph Dixon in 1731. In 1754, the "houses, buildings, orchard, ways and watercourses" of Raspberry Plain were purchased by Loudoun County's first sheriff, Aeneas Campbell. Under Campbell's ownership, the property became the site of Loudoun County's first jailhouse. Raspberry Plain was then purchased by George Mason's younger brother Thomson Mason from Campbell, in 1760. In 1771, Thomson built the mansion at Raspberry Plain. Upon Thomson's death, the Raspberry Plain estate was deeded to his eldest son Stevens Thomson Mason, U.S. senator from Virginia. The mansion at Raspberry Plain was added to throughout the 19th-century and demolished around 1910. Senator Mason's son, Armistead Thomson Mason, of Selma, was shot and killed by his cousin, John Mason McCarty, in a duel fought at the Bladensburg dueling grounds in Bladensburg, Maryland, in February 1819. McCarty lived at nearby Strawberry Plain, the home and jail of Aeneas Campbell, which had been parceled off from the Raspberry Plain property. That mansion has long since disappeared. In 1910, Raspberry Plain was rebuilt for copper millionaire John Guthrie Hopkins. Raspberry Plain, along with several neighboring estates including nearby Mason family estates Temple Hall and Locust Hill, is a contributing property in the 25,000-acre (100 km2) Catoctin Rural Historic District, which was added to the National Register of Historic Places on 31 January 1989.
Read more about this topic: Raspberry Plain
Famous quotes containing the word history:
“The basic idea which runs right through modern history and modern liberalism is that the public has got to be marginalized. The general public are viewed as no more than ignorant and meddlesome outsiders, a bewildered herd.”
—Noam Chomsky (b. 1928)
“What we call National-Socialism is the poisonous perversion of ideas which have a long history in German intellectual life.”
—Thomas Mann (1875–1955)
“When the landscape buckles and jerks around, when a dust column of debris rises from the collapse of a block of buildings on bodies that could have been your own, when the staves of history fall awry and the barrel of time bursts apart, some turn to prayer, some to poetry: words in the memory, a stained book carried close to the body, the notebook scribbled by hand—a center of gravity.”
—Adrienne Rich (b. 1929)