John Wood, who founded Quincy, Ill.,
in 1822, stepped to a cadence all his own. For one thing,
he sported a robust, patriarchal beard, not a hair of
which grew on his face. His was a neck beard—in
a portrait painted shortly before his death, Wood looks
like a Santa whose false whiskers have slumped badly—and
historians of fashion have made an educated guess as
to why he cultivated it. If a fellow disliked wearing
a collar and tie, such a beard would keep observers
from knowing whether he was formally attired or not.
Wood also believed that a personal sense of style ought
to extend to a man's house. This land baron and
politician—he was lieutenant governor of Illinois—lived
in a Greek revival showpiece in Quincy. But he wanted
something grander, more opulent, and he began constructing
a new mansion to outshine it. That structure, which
would be called Octagon House, was still being built
when the governor, William Harrison Bissell, died in
1860, 10 months before the end of Wood's term as
lieutenant governor. Wood resisted the idea of moving
to the state capital, Springfield, to take up the reins.
How could he walk away from his beloved work-in-progress?
He asked permission to work at home—his old Quincy
home, that is–and the legislature agreed. Like
a pope in Avignon, Wood discharged his duties from afar.
Octagon House is long gone, but the earlier mansion
has survived and been restored and is open to the public.
It stands as a monument not only to Wood's large
ego, but also to a community-wide passion for plush
shelter. Quincy, a Mississippi River town of 40,000
some 120 miles upriver from St. Louis, has built—and
hung on to—a cornucopia of grand dwellings, block
after block, neighborhood after neighborhood. Quincyans
cherish their houses, and never more so than at the
time of their Behind Closed Doors tour, held annually
on a Saturday in mid-October.
