DUNS Number:
118 967 987
Mon - Sat
8 AM - 8PM
Eastern
DAN MULLIN INSURANCE
Final Expense Whole Life Insurance
“Dan Mullin Insurance provides affordable final expense whole life, burial, and guaranteed acceptance life insurance with most applicants qualifying for first-day coverage, fixed rates for life, and most claims paid within 24 hours for families across 18 states.”
Representing:
.jpg)
.jpg)
_edited_edited_edited_e.png)
_edited_edited.png)
.png)
.png)
.png){kind=small}
.png)
.png)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.png)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
History of the Dumbhundred
.png)
An overview of how Dumbhundred developed as a working neighborhood and became part of Cumberland’s historic landscape. It introduces the people, buildings, streets, institutions, and traditions explored throughout this series.
History of the Dumbhundred:
Cumberland's Historic Hillside Neighborhood
See section on:
.jpg)
Attached worker houses at 211–217 Pear Street, northwest elevation. Photograph by J. T. Keller, spring 1976. Source: Maryland Historical Trust, Dumbhundred Historic District Architectural Survey File, MIHP No. AL-IV-A-143.
The Dumbhundred is one of Cumberland’s most distinctive historic neighborhoods—a densely built hillside community shaped by the city’s growth as a transportation and industrial center. Located in Cumberland’s North End, the neighborhood developed between the railroad corridor and the surrounding slopes. Its houses, streets, retaining walls, steps, and mountain views preserve an unusually complete record of how generations of Cumberland residents lived during the city’s industrial era.
"Dumbhundred” is an old traditional neighborhood name. It also appears in historic records alongside the names Stony Battery and North End. Although several explanations have circulated locally, the official Maryland Historical Trust documentation does not establish a definitive origin for the name. It is therefore best understood as a long-standing local place-name passed down through generations.
Growth of a Hillside Neighborhood
Cumberland’s rapid nineteenth-century growth was closely connected to the National Road, the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, and the coal and manufacturing industries of Western Maryland. The B&O Railroad reached Cumberland in 1842, and the C&O Canal was completed to Cumberland in 1850. These transportation systems helped transform the community into an important commercial and industrial center.
As employment expanded, residential neighborhoods grew near industrial plants, rail facilities, shops, and transportation corridors. Dumbhundred developed within walking distance of many workplaces. Its steep terrain produced closely spaced houses, curving streets, exposed stone foundations, retaining walls, hillside steps, and dramatic views of the surrounding mountains.
The 1976 architectural survey described Dumbhundred as having some of the qualities of a European hill town, with dense housing arranged along steep slopes. It identified buildings dating from the early nineteenth century through approximately 1930 and noted the neighborhood’s mixture of brick and frame construction, architectural periods, and building types.
Maryland Historical Trust Dumbhundred survey file
Workers, Craftspeople, and Immigrant Families
The Maryland Historical Trust survey identifies Dumbhundred as the home of many German glassworkers, brewers, craftspeople, and other residents associated with Cumberland’s nineteenth- and early twentieth-century economy. The neighborhood contains modest worker housing, middle-class residences, neighborhood commercial buildings, and several architect-designed houses.
One particularly interesting remnant of this history was recorded at 311 Valley Street. The 1976 survey identified it as the only known surviving nineteenth-century “common beer” brewery in Cumberland and reported that brewery tunnels and storage vaults remained beneath the building. The survey described the structure as an important architectural reminder of Cumberland’s German brewing tradition.
Pear Street also preserves evidence of the neighborhood’s working-class history. The attached brick houses at 211–217 Pear Street developed in stages during the nineteenth century. The end houses appeared on an 1858 city map, with the interior houses added by 1875. The survey called them a significant example of early worker housing in Cumberland’s then-sparsely populated North End.
Neighborhood life was also supported by small grocery stores and other businesses incorporated into residential buildings. Front porches, brick sidewalks, narrow alleys, gardens, iron fences, stone walls, and neighborhood stores gave the district a strong pedestrian character and created streetscapes that were both practical and visually distinctive.
Architecture of Everyday Cumberland
Dumbhundred’s importance comes not from one architectural style, but from the remarkable variety found within a relatively compact area. Its buildings include examples and interpretations of Federal, Greek Revival, Italianate, Queen Anne, American Foursquare, and early twentieth-century vernacular architecture.
Many houses were constructed by local builders using familiar plans adapted to narrow lots and steep terrain. Brick was commonly laid in local variations of common bond, while frame houses frequently incorporated decorative porches, brackets, patterned shingles, bay windows, and ornamental trim. Brick sidewalks, stone retaining walls, historic garages, and occasional surviving brick streets contribute to the neighborhood’s character.
Columbia Street was described in the 1976 survey as perhaps the finest street in the district. Its curving alignment, mature trees, brick sidewalks, stone walls, iron fences, and closely arranged houses create one of Cumberland’s most memorable residential streetscapes.
Wright Butler and Cumberland’s Architectural Heritage
The neighborhood has an especially important connection to architect Wright Butler, one of Cumberland’s leading architects of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Butler was born at 123 Columbia Street and later designed and occupied his own Queen Anne-style residence at 205 Columbia Street.
Completed in 1901, the Wright Butler House was carefully adapted to a narrow city lot. Its brick construction, shingles, projecting oriel, varied roof forms, dormers, decorative porch, and exterior chimney demonstrate Butler’s skill in combining materials and architectural details. Butler also designed other houses in and around the neighborhood, as well as prominent Cumberland landmarks elsewhere in the city. His former home is individually listed in the National Register of Historic Places.
National Park Service record for the Wright Butler House
Local architect George Flack Sansbury and builders including George Bowman also contributed to Dumbhundred’s built environment. Their work demonstrates that the neighborhood contains not only anonymous vernacular construction but also buildings associated with some of Cumberland’s notable designers and builders.
Recognition and Preservation
Dumbhundred was documented as part of Cumberland’s 1976 Architectural and Historical Survey, prepared by Land and Community Associates. The Maryland Historical Trust determined the district eligible for listing in the National Register of Historic Places in 1981. Following updated documentation and a reassessment of its buildings and boundaries, the Trust again determined the district eligible in 2004.
The 2004 review found that the district continued to possess a high degree of historic integrity, with relatively few modern intrusions. The documentation also revised and clarified the district boundary and identified hundreds of contributing properties.
Cumberland’s Historic Preservation Plan, adopted by the Mayor and City Council on January 2, 2024, again recognized Dumbhundred as an important historic district. The plan notes its collection of worker housing and architect-designed residences, its relationship to Cumberland’s late nineteenth-century industrial economy, and its strong ties to the city’s German immigrants.
Cumberland Historic Preservation Plan
Dumbhundred is historically important because it tells the story of everyday Cumberland. Its houses and streets represent workers, craftspeople, business owners, immigrant families, architects, builders, and generations of residents who helped sustain the city. Preserving and studying the neighborhood keeps that history visible and provides a foundation for thoughtful rehabilitation, community improvement, and future historic recognition.
.jpg)
Columbia Street streetscape looking east, showing the neighborhood’s hillside setting, stone retaining walls, porches, mature trees, and brick sidewalk. Photograph by J. T. Keller, spring 1976. Source: Maryland Historical Trust, Dumbhundred Historic District Architectural Survey File, MIHP No. AL-IV-A-143.
.jpg)
Historic herringbone-pattern brick sidewalk on Independence Street. Photograph by J. T. Keller, spring 1976. Source: Maryland Historical Trust, Dumbhundred Historic District Architectural Survey File, MIHP No. AL-IV-A-143.
.jpg)
The mid-nineteenth-century brick residence at 222 Columbia Street, northeast elevation. Photograph by J. T. Keller, spring 1976. Source: Maryland Historical Trust, Dumbhundred Historic District Architectural Survey File, MIHP No. AL-IV-A-143.
.jpg)
The Wright Butler House at 205 Columbia Street, south elevation. Photograph by J. T. Keller, spring 1976. Source: Maryland Historical Trust, Dumbhundred Historic District Architectural Survey File, MIHP No. AL-IV-A-143.
Before It Was Called Dumbhundred
The Neighborhood Described in Lowdermilk’s 1878 History
Will H. Lowdermilk’s History of Cumberland, Maryland, published in 1878, does not use the name “Dumb Hundred” or “Dumbhundred.” Nevertheless, when Lowdermilk’s descriptions are compared with the official boundaries of the Dumbhundred Historic District, several passages provide valuable glimpses of the neighborhood before its familiar name appeared in print.
The Maryland Historical Trust defines the Dumbhundred Historic District as beginning along the north side of Henderson Avenue, extending northward along Bedford Street to Independence Street, continuing along the northern boundary of St. Patrick Cemetery and Sylvan Avenue, and returning south along Franklin Street. Streets within the district include Bond Street, Chestnut Street, Columbia Avenue, Columbia Street, Fairview Avenue, Furnace Street, Knox Street, Lena Street, Pear Street, Pulaski Street, Shriver Avenue, Sylvan Avenue, Valley Street and Walnut Street.
Although Lowdermilk does not identify this part of Cumberland as a separate neighborhood, he writes about several of its streets, landmarks and early activities. His descriptions reveal an area changing gradually from open ground and scattered houses into a settled part of Cumberland.
One of Lowdermilk’s most detailed descriptions concerns Bedford Street. An important complication is that Cumberland’s street names changed over time. Lowdermilk explains that an earlier Bedford Street became Baltimore Street, while the street once called Blocher Street later became the Bedford Street known today. Therefore, his references must be read carefully to determine which Bedford Street he meant.
In his description of Cumberland in 1813, Lowdermilk writes that Blocher Street—the present Bedford Street—contained comparatively few buildings. He identifies the homes of several early residents, including Abraham Simkins, who lived in a field at what later became the corner of Bedford and Decatur streets. On the north side of Bedford Street stood a group of small houses known as Berry’s Row. Farther along were the homes of James P. Carleton and John Lingo, followed by Eckles’ pottery and the houses of George Blocher, Jacob Shuck and John McMahon.
These were not grand avenues lined with impressive residences. They were scattered homes and modest places of work standing along a road that climbed away from Cumberland’s early commercial center. Nevertheless, they represented the beginnings of the community that would eventually fill the hills and valleys of Dumbhundred. By the end of 1837, Lowdermilk reported that numerous additional residences had been erected along Bedford Street, showing how rapidly this section of Cumberland was developing.
Columbia Street appears only briefly in Lowdermilk’s history, but the reference is significant. In his account of the First Baptist Church, he states that the congregation’s brick church stood on Bedford Street between Front and Columbia streets. The church was dedicated in November 1849 and contained a lecture room, a baptismal tank and a pastor’s study. This building, now identified as 212 Bedford Street, stood along the Bedford Street side of the historic neighborhood.
One of the most dramatic events described by Lowdermilk occurred near what is now Independence Street. On the night of April 2, 1848, a small frame building at the base of Shriver’s Hill caught fire. Lowdermilk specifically locates the site as the place “where Independence Street now lies.”
The little building was being used to store approximately 1,600 pounds of gunpowder. Cumberland merchants were permitted to keep only small quantities of powder in their stores, so the remainder was stored in this isolated structure. As the fire spread, a tremendous explosion shook houses throughout Cumberland. Lowdermilk reported that the blast was heard as far as 20 miles away and that windows throughout the town were shattered. A large brick residence belonging to Mrs. M. C. Sprigg was seriously damaged, with walls cracked and the building shaken from its foundation to its roof. Remarkably, no one was injured.
According to Lowdermilk, the fire was deliberately set. A reward was offered for information leading to the discovery of those responsible, but they were never identified. This largely forgotten explosion is one of the earliest documented events associated directly with the land along present-day Independence Street.
Another especially interesting reference is the Lena Furnace. Lowdermilk reports that the furnace was constructed and placed into operation during the summer of 1847. Iron ore was obtained from the Rose Hill estate, but the venture proved unsuccessful and was abandoned.
Lowdermilk does not provide the furnace’s precise location, nor does he explain how the later streets received their names. However, the presence of both Lena Street and Furnace Street within the official Dumbhundred boundaries strongly suggests a connection with this early industrial enterprise. Additional maps, deeds and property records may eventually establish the exact location of the Lena Furnace and confirm whether the two streets were named for it.
Valley Street also appears several times in Lowdermilk’s history. He describes an early log house standing at the corner of North Mechanic and Valley streets that was built by Dickeson Simkins around 1790. Lowdermilk also refers to an early route called Little Valley Road or Little Valley Street. These references concern the older southern approach to the neighborhood rather than the later residential sections farther north, but they show that Valley Street developed from one of Cumberland’s earliest roads.
Lowdermilk also describes the larger tract known as Walnut Bottom, upon which the original town of Cumberland was laid out. He states that the tract extended toward Front Street and Valley Street and continued by a line through the Wills Creek tannery. Although Walnut Bottom should not be mistaken for another name for the entire Dumbhundred neighborhood, its boundaries appear to have approached or overlapped the southwestern portion of the area.
The 1878 book does not mention Franklin Street, Bond Street, Chestnut Street, Sylvan Avenue, Fairview Avenue, Knox Street, Pear Street, Pulaski Street, Shriver Avenue, Columbia Avenue or Walnut Street by those names. Lowdermilk mentions the Lena Furnace and Shriver’s Hill, but not Lena Street, Furnace Street or Shriver Avenue. He provides an extensive history of St. Patrick’s Church but does not include a comparable account of St. Patrick Cemetery.
The absence of these street names does not prove that the streets did not exist when Lowdermilk wrote his history. The Maryland Historical Trust’s later research cites city maps from 1858 and 1875 showing buildings on several streets within the district. Lowdermilk was writing a general history of Cumberland rather than compiling a complete street directory, so he naturally selected particular people, buildings and events while omitting many others.
Taken together, Lowdermilk’s descriptions reveal the future Dumbhundred as a developing section of Cumberland containing scattered early houses, rows of modest dwellings, a pottery, a church, an iron furnace and roads climbing into the surrounding hills. Its residents included tradespeople, laborers, merchants, craftspeople and families whose names became part of Cumberland’s early history.
Lowdermilk never gathers these places beneath a single neighborhood name. Nevertheless, the physical community that would eventually become known as Dumbhundred was already taking shape. His 1878 history preserves a rare picture of that community before its later industries, houses and generations of residents gave the neighborhood the distinctive character it retains today.
Sources and Further Reading:
Will H. Lowdermilk, History of Cumberland, Maryland, 1878:
https://www.loc.gov/item/rc01003489/
Maryland Historical Trust, Dumbhundred Historic District Architectural Survey File, AL-IV-A-143:
https://apps.mht.maryland.gov/medusa/PDF/Allegany/AL-IV-A-143.pdf
Were They Welsh? Were They German? Tracing the Name “Dumbhundred”
What newspapers, public records, neighborhood memory, and one unusual word can—and cannot—tell us about a Cumberland place-name
By Dan Mullin
The name has survived longer than anyone’s certain explanation of it.
For generations, Cumberland residents have called the hillside neighborhood north of downtown the Dumbhundred. The name appears beside other familiar designations—including North End and Stony Battery—and it has been attached to homes, streets, neighborhood stories, and even a local baseball team.
But why “Dumbhundred”?
One explanation points to German immigrants who spoke little or no English. Another says the neighborhood was associated with Welsh coal miners. A third possibility concerns the word “hundred” itself: an old term for a defined territory or administrative district. Because the traditional Dumbhundred neighborhood covers roughly 150 acres, local residents have also wondered whether “hundred” described the approximate size of the area.
Were the people German? Were they Welsh? Was “hundred” a land measurement? And what does the surviving evidence actually prove?
The most responsible answer is that German residents are well documented, Welsh miners were certainly part of the wider Western Maryland workforce, and both groups may have been present in or around Cumberland. What has not yet been found is a contemporary document identifying the particular people who coined “Dumbhundred” or explaining exactly what they meant.
That distinction—between who lived in a place and who inspired its nickname—is the heart of the mystery.
The Name Was in Use by 1914
The earliest printed use located during this research appeared in the Cumberland Evening Times on April 6, 1914. A sports item referred to a Dumb Hundred team, apparently confirming the later recollection that a neighborhood baseball club used the name.
That clipping does not explain the name. Nevertheless, it establishes an important point: “Dumb Hundred” was already recognizable in Cumberland by 1914. The expression therefore predates the surviving explanations found in later newspapers. (newspaperarchive.com)
Another retrospective article, published in the Cumberland Sunday Times on October 21, 1956, included Dumb Hundred and Stony Battery in a list of the old neighborhood names of northern Cumberland. Once again, the writer assumed readers knew the place but offered no origin story. (newspaperarchive.com)
These references are valuable because they document usage. They are not proof of etymology. Finding an old occurrence of a name answers, “How early was it being used?” It does not necessarily answer, “Who invented it, and why?”
What the 1976 Historic Survey Says
One of the most substantial public records concerning the neighborhood is the Maryland Historical Trust’s 1976 architectural survey of the Dumbhundred Historic District, also identified with Stony Battery, North End, and the Keller Survey.
Prepared by Genevieve P. Keller of Land and Community Associates, the survey describes a densely built hillside neighborhood with some of the visual qualities of a European hill town. More importantly for the name question, it identifies the traditional Dumbhundred as the home of many German glassworkers, brewers, craftspeople, and other residents during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
Its bibliography also lists an interview with Herman J. Miller, described as a citizen liaison, conducted in the spring of 1976.
This is strong evidence for a German presence in the neighborhood. It is not, however, a documented explanation of the name. The survey does not say that Miller supplied an origin story, nor does it identify a German family or event responsible for the nickname. A careful article should not turn the survey’s silence into a quotation or conclusion that the document itself never made.
That is one of the basic rules of sound historical journalism: a source should receive credit for what it says, but it should not be made to say more than it does.
The German-Immigrant Explanation
The clearest recent printed explanation appeared in Teresa McMinn’s March 19, 2025, Cumberland Times-News article about efforts to obtain National Register recognition for the neighborhood.
Ruth Davis-Rogers, Cumberland’s historic preservation planner, explained that non-English-speaking newcomers lived in the community and that other residents combined “dumb” with “hundred” to create the neighborhood name. She also mentioned the local Dumbhundreds baseball team. (aging.maryland.gov)
That account fits several established facts. The 1976 survey documents German workers and families in the Dumbhundred, and Cumberland’s 2025–2029 Consolidated Plan describes the district as having had a historic concentration of non-English-speaking immigrants. (cumberlandmd.gov)
The older meaning of “dumb” also makes the explanation linguistically plausible. Noah Webster’s 1828 dictionary began its definition with “mute; silent; not speaking.” The word could describe a person who did not speak—or did not speak the language understood by the observer—without originally carrying only today’s familiar meaning of unintelligent. (webstersdictionary1828.com)
In that historical sense, English-speaking residents might have called newcomers “dumb” because they could not easily converse with them in English. Such a nickname would still reflect the prejudices and social divisions of its time, but its intended meaning may have concerned speech rather than intelligence.
Still, plausibility is not proof. The 2025 newspaper account records a knowledgeable modern explanation, but it does not identify a nineteenth-century diary, deed, letter, map, or newspaper report in which the person who coined the name explains it.
The best-supported wording is therefore:
According to a longstanding local explanation, “dumb” referred to German or other immigrant residents who spoke little English, rather than to their intelligence.
Calling it a “local explanation” or “oral tradition” is not evasive. It accurately tells readers what kind of evidence they are being given.
The Welsh-Miner Explanation
A substantially different version appeared forty years earlier.
On November 3, 1985, a North End reminiscence printed on page 13 of the Cumberland News said the area had once been called the Dumb Hundred because, according to people the writer had consulted, it was populated by Welsh coal miners.
The passage then related a joking ethnic exchange. An Irishman reportedly claimed that the Welsh miners were not especially bright, while the writer—who said his own ancestors were Welsh—challenged the Irishman’s right to make such a judgment. The conversation ended with a speculative suggestion that Cumberland’s Germans, English, and Irish had probably bestowed the name.
This is the earliest explicit printed origin story located so far. It deserves preservation because it shows what at least some Cumberland residents were saying by 1985. But its evidentiary value has limits. The writer relied on unnamed people and a humorous conversation, not a cited historical record. The story also reflects the ethnic teasing and stereotypes common in older neighborhood folklore.
The wider regional history gives the Welsh portion some context. Welsh, German, Scottish, English, and Irish workers all participated in Western Maryland’s coal industry. A history preserved by the Western Maryland Historical Library specifically lists miners from all five groups, while the Coal Heritage Byway identifies Welsh and other European immigrants among the people attracted to the region’s mines, railroads, and industries. (whilbr.org, passagesofthepotomac.org)
That demonstrates that Welsh miners belonged to the region’s industrial population. It does not prove that Welsh miners predominated in the Dumbhundred or that their neighbors named the community after them.
The Welsh account should therefore be reported as a genuine piece of Cumberland folklore—not dismissed, but not promoted to established fact.
What Did “Hundred” Mean?
The second half of the name may be as important as the first.
The Maryland State Archives explains that a “hundred” was an old English term that may originally have represented one hundred taxable units. In colonial Maryland, hundreds were divisions within counties, created for taxation and other administrative purposes. (guide.msa.maryland.gov)
In medieval usage, a hundred was sometimes associated with a group of “hides,” but neither a hide nor a hundred represented a universally fixed number of modern acres. The meaning varied by period and location. Calling a hundred simply a “land measurement” is understandable shorthand, but “territorial or administrative division” is usually more precise.
The traditional Dumbhundred district is said to cover approximately 150 acres. That similarity has encouraged the idea that “hundred” meant a neighborhood-sized area of roughly that extent. The possibility deserves inclusion in the local tradition, especially if the 150-acre estimate can be confirmed from a historic-district boundary map.
At present, however, no evidence located in this research shows that Cumberland officials ever established the neighborhood as an official hundred, or that 150 acres was a recognized definition of one hundred. The acreage may have influenced the nickname, or it may be a later attempt to make sense of an already familiar word.
A careful account can therefore say that “hundred” had a genuine historical association with territorial divisions and landholding, while leaving the proposed 150-acre connection open for further investigation.
A Warning From Another “Dumb Hundred”
Cumberland was not the only community to bear the name.
A Blair County, Pennsylvania, place-name compilation identifies another Dumb Hundred in Taylor Township. Its reported explanation was that no resident of the village could count to one hundred. (blair.pagenweb.org)
That story plainly does not explain Cumberland’s neighborhood. What it does show is that “Dumb Hundred” could function as a joking or insulting American place-name and could attract different explanations in different communities.
It also offers a warning. Colorful names tend to produce colorful stories, and a memorable story may be repeated for generations whether or not it began with the name itself. Folklore can preserve real historical memory, but it can also supply an explanation after the original circumstances have been forgotten.
Welsh or German: What Is the Verdict?
The strongest documented finding concerns the neighborhood’s population, not the origin of its name. The 1976 Maryland Historical Trust survey directly associates the Dumbhundred with German glassworkers, brewers, craftspeople, and other residents. A modern city planning document likewise describes the district as having had a historic concentration of non-English-speaking immigrants.
That evidence makes the German explanation historically plausible, especially because “dumb” could once mean unable to speak or understand the local language. But the explanation comes from a modern local recollection, not from a contemporary naming record.
Welsh miners were part of Western Maryland’s broader industrial workforce, and a 1985 Cumberland News account shows that a Welsh-miner explanation was circulating in Cumberland by then. Yet that account relies on unnamed informants and remembered conversation. It does not establish that Welsh miners lived in the Dumbhundred, predominated there, or inspired the name.
The “hundred” theory is weaker still. The word had genuine territorial and administrative meanings, but no evidence connects those meanings to Cumberland’s neighborhood or proves that its approximate 150 acres influenced the name.
The evidence therefore supports this conclusion: German residents have the strongest documented connection to the Dumbhundred itself, while Welsh miners belong mainly to the region’s broader industrial history. Neither group can be shown to have created the name. The German explanation is plausible local tradition; the Welsh explanation is documented later folklore; and the 150-acre theory remains speculative.
For now, the most accurate conclusion is:
Dumbhundred is a long-established Cumberland place-name whose precise origin remains unproved. The strongest documented finding is the neighborhood’s historic association with German and other non-English-speaking immigrants, which makes the German language-barrier explanation plausible. A Welsh-miner explanation was also circulating by 1985, but it rests on later recollection rather than contemporary evidence. “Hundred” may carry its older territorial meaning, but no record connects it to the neighborhood’s approximate 150-acre size.
A future letter, map, church record, property description, baseball scorebook, or newspaper account may still reveal who coined the name and what was intended. Until then, the uncertainty is part of the history.
How Good Historical Journalism Treats a Story Like This
The purpose of responsible reporting is not to choose the liveliest legend and repeat it as fact. It is to preserve the legends while showing readers where the documentation begins and ends.
That means dating each version instead of blending them into one story. It means identifying whether a statement comes from a contemporary record, a later interview, an official survey, an unnamed recollection, or newspaper OCR. It also means acknowledging uncomfortable ethnic stereotypes without repeating them as judgments about the people involved.
Most importantly, repeated tradition should not be mistaken for independent confirmation. Ten modern accounts may all descend from the same uncited story. Conversely, an oral tradition should not be discarded merely because its original paper trail has disappeared. It should be labeled honestly and investigated further.
Local history is often built from several kinds of evidence: government records, newspapers, maps, family documents, photographs, material remains, and memories passed from one generation to another. Each can contribute something, but they do not all carry the same weight.
An official survey can document the neighborhood’s buildings and known population. A newspaper can establish that a name was in use by a particular date. An interview can preserve what residents believed. A dictionary can explain what a word meant in an earlier period. None of those sources, standing alone, necessarily proves who created the name.
The uncertainty should not be hidden. It is part of the story.
Sources and References
-
Teresa McMinn, “Dumbhundred Neighborhood Residents Seek Designation,” Cumberland Times-News, March 19, 2025, p. 1.
-
Genevieve P. Keller, Dumbhundred Historic District Architectural Survey, inventory AL-IV-A-143, Maryland Historical Trust, July 19, 1976.
-
City of Cumberland, 2025–2029 Community Development Block Grant Consolidated Plan and 2025 Annual Action Plan, discussion of the Dumbhundred District, pp. 103–104.
-
“Understanding Maryland Records: Hundreds,” Maryland State Archives.
-
Noah Webster, “Dumb,” An American Dictionary of the English Language, 1828.
-
Cumberland Evening Times, April 6, 1914, p. 10, digitized page at NewspaperArchive.
-
Cumberland Sunday Times, October 21, 1956, p. 21, digitized page at NewspaperArchive.
-
Cumberland News, November 3, 1985, p. 13, digitized page at NewspaperArchive.
-
William Fugera, “George’s Creek Coal and Iron Company History,” Western Maryland Historical Library; originally published in Scrip Talk, vol. 37, issue 155.
-
“Coal Heritage Byway,” Passages of the Western Potomac Heritage Area.
-
“Blair County Place Names,” Blair County PAGenWeb, entry for Dumb Hundred, Taylor Township, Pennsylvania.
Further Reading
-
William H. Lowdermilk, History of Cumberland, Maryland, 1878.
-
J. Thomas Scharf, History of Western Maryland, volume 2, 1882.
-
Harry I. Stegmaier Jr., David Dean, Gordon Kershaw, and John Wiseman, Allegany County: A History, 1976.
-
Allegany County Library System newspaper and magazine databases, including NewsBank access to the Cumberland Times-News. Most databases require a library card. (alleganycountylibrary.info)
Research and Editorial Note
Historical newspaper passages should be checked against clear page images before being reproduced as exact quotations. Searchable newspaper text is often generated by optical character recognition, which can misread faded type, damaged pages, narrow columns, and hyphenated words.
The 1985 passage has therefore been summarized rather than presented as an exact, extended quotation. Its original column heading, author, punctuation, and wording should be verified from the page image before any longer passage is reproduced.
The conclusions in this article distinguish among documented facts, reported recollections, linguistic possibilities, and folklore. Absence from a searchable source does not prove that a name was never used, particularly because historic newspaper and book searches depend on incomplete collections and imperfect OCR.
Research and article by Dan Mullin. Sources include the Maryland Historical Trust, Maryland State Archives, City of Cumberland, Western Maryland Historical Library, historic Cumberland newspapers, NewspaperArchive, and regional heritage collections.
Research Note
This article was researched, assembled, and edited by Dan Mullin with assistance from digital archives, newspaper-search and transcription tools, and AI-assisted research and composition. Historical claims were reviewed against the original records and publications cited below. The selection of evidence, interpretation of the sources, and final editorial responsibility remain with the author.
.png)