Part 1 (1/2)

Historic Homes.

by Mary H. Northend.

PREFACE

The study of old houses grows in interest with each additional discovery of good material, such as can be found in the old New England towns and cities, more especially those along the seacoast. The preservation of these old houses has done much to give us correct ideas of the interiors, though many of these, with the change of owners, have been stripped of their colonial furnis.h.i.+ngs.

Most of the houses that are shown in this book are private homes which have been opened by the owners to allow pictured representations of correct ancestral furnis.h.i.+ng. Houses such as these possess the greatest charm--ancestral homes that have descended from generation to generation in the same family since their founding.

It has been a great pleasure to be allowed to visit these old mansions, which show wonderful staircases, richly carved mantels, and colonial windows, each one of which is an architectural gem. Through pictured homes like these one is given a deeper interest in the early life of our country and realizes more than ever before what the colonial period stood for in home building.

I wish to acknowledge the kindness of my many friends in helping me to make this book possible, particularly Mrs. Charles M. Stark of Dunbarton, New Hamps.h.i.+re, for use of the old Stark mansion; the Colonial Dames of Ma.s.sachusetts, for allowing correct representations in pictures of the Quincy Mansion; the New Hamps.h.i.+re Society of the Sons of Cincinnati, for the use of the Ladd-Gilman House; Miss Caroline O.

Emmerton of Salem, for permission to show the historic House of Seven Gables; the Historical Society of Marblehead, for the use of the Lee Mansion; the Medford Daughters of the Revolution, for the old Royall House; the Dalton Club of Newburyport, who have thrown open their club-house to be pictured; Mrs. Jacob C. Rogers of Boston and Peabody; Mr. Jacob C. Peabody of Danvers; as well as many others, including Mr.

John Pickering of Salem, who have allowed me access to their houses.

We of New England are deeply interested in our historic homes, and it is to the lover of the colonial that I wish to show by picture and text the wonderful old mansions that are still in our midst, which have done much to bring New England into prominence in the architectural world of to-day.

MARY H. NORTHEND.

AUGUST 15, 1914.

CHAPTER I

HOMES OF LONG AGO

Scattered here and there throughout the South, the Middle West, and the New England States, we find the homes of long ago standing as mute witnesses and representatives of periods in our country's settlements that have become historical. We come across them by the wayside, when driving along country roads, or we catch glimpses of them at the end of gra.s.sy lanes, surrounded by pleasant meadows, while others, jutting in between twentieth century houses in our large cities, serve to link the old days with the new. These old mansions are often tenantless; some, with sagging roofs and gaping sides, are fast falling into decay. Still others, well preserved and freshly painted, surrounded by the well kept lawns and posy beds of our grandmothers' time, are survivals of a glorious past.

Old houses are like old romances; both are filled with mystery. Could they but speak, what fascinating tales they would reveal. They carry us back in imagination to one of the most eventful periods of our country's life--that of its struggle for freedom--and they inspire us with a desire to weave them into stories that will give authentic glimpses of the days when our country was young. Surrounding these ancient landmarks we find an irresistible and intangible charm that never fails to appeal, not only to the house-lover but the antiquarian as well. For, no matter how shabby the exterior may be, inside its four walls has been enacted a series of comedies and tragedies, which, if known, might overshadow the romances of the great masters of literature.

In spite of the mystery surrounding these old homesteads, there is, nevertheless, something definite about them which has for the student of the past a deep meaning and a distinct appeal.

Harking back, we find that each particular type of house represents a stage in the development of architecture. They cover a period when architects were practically unknown. Many were evolved from the master builder's brain, while others have been developed little by little from early designs. Monuments of departed days, they stand models to which our present-day architects turn for inspiration.

Few, if any, of the first houses are still standing. They were constructed of logs and had thatched roofs. The timber was, at first, hand sawed in saw pits dug for that purpose, a tedious process. Later on, sawmills were erected, but not in sufficient number to meet the demand for frame houses.

The second period of house building brought out a new idea in construction. Some of these houses were built with two stories in front and one in the rear, this lower story being covered by an extension of the sloping roof. The most imposing of this type were those which were designed with gables at the front and chambers underneath.

In those days, the best kinds of lumber were plentiful, so the frame could be built of picked wood, preferably white oak. In houses of this style, the outer walls were daubed with clay, covered with boards. At first, they were called clay boards, the name being afterwards corrupted to clapboards. Lime was rarely used in daubing, since lime was obtainable only by burning sh.e.l.ls. Sometimes clay was intermixed with straw. Many windows had small, diamond panes, set in lead cases. These may be found to-day in some of the old houses that have escaped vandalism. The windows were often divided into two parts and opened outward.

The entrance hall in these old homes led into a large and imposing apartment. On the walls were hung frames containing hair flowers and funeral pieces wrought by hand. This was known as the ”company” or ”guest” room, used only on state occasions. The princ.i.p.al room was the kitchen with its sanded floor, often laid herring-bone pattern. This was used as a dining-room and kitchen combined. Through the center of the house ran a chimney six feet square, around which cl.u.s.tered the closets, many of them secret. Here were concealed the family treasures, plate, and perchance a refugee. The family gathering place was the kitchen. It requires little imagination to repeople it with guests. Seemingly, we watch the elders seated on large, wooden settles inside the fireplace, roasting their faces, while they freeze their backs. The old iron crane swings outward, holding the jack, spit, and pot hooks. The Dutch oven covered with ashes contains the evening meal.

The only light save the firelight was the pitch-pine torch, by whose flickering flame one read or sewed. Close at hand on a nail hung the old horn lantern ready for use, either to tend the stock or light a visiting neighbor home. It is an appealing picture of colonial life.

Among the old houses there are none so full of interest as those which have been carefully preserved in the same family, handed down from generation to generation. Over the threshold of these homes have pa.s.sed men and women whose names are linked irretrievably with important events in our nation's history.

In the early history of our country, few seaport towns stand out in bolder relief than Salem, Ma.s.sachusetts, a city noted at the commencement of the nineteenth century for her commercial prosperity, and whose s.h.i.+ps sailed to every port on the globe. These s.h.i.+ps were small, clumsy affairs, but staunch in build. The cargoes were valuable ventures, sent by Salem merchants who were fearless plungers. The flavor of the sea still lingers about this seaport town, particularly along Derby Street, where, in the prosperous s.h.i.+pping days, social life was centered.