Historic homes of New England

Front matter

HISTORIC HOMES StNEW ENGLAND af ^ wty

J-Vi '

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 furnishings.

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 furnishing. 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.

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PREFACE

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 Hampshire, for use of the old Stark mansion ; the Colonial Dames of Massachusetts, for allowing correct representations in pictures of the Quincy Mansion ; the New Hampshire 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, 191 4.

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Contents

Preface

I. Homes of Long Ago .

II. The House of the Seven Gables

Chapter I

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 grassy 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 sufiicient 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 shells. 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 principal 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 clustered 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 tp 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 pitchpine 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 passed 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, Massachusetts, a city noted at the commencement of the nineteenth century for her commercial prosperity, and whose ships sailed to every port on the globe. These ships 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 shipping days, social life was centered.

Years crept on apace, and the country grew more prosperous with the increase of population ; and in the seaport town, more especially, came a

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demand for larger and better houses. Money circulated freely, and ventures proved successful. Trade steadily increased, bringing prosperity in its wake. Commerce was at its height, and the harbor was filled with incoming and outgoing ships, whose holds were stored with rich cargoes of household goods, furniture, and glass, intermixed with merchandise. Much of the valuable furniture is still to be found in the houses of to-day.

The story of those stirring times reads like a bit of romance. The tide still ebbs and flows at Derby Street, lapping the piers much as it did a century ago, when ships four tiers deep lay tied up at the now deserted wharves. The crews were boys, many of them, sons of the merchants, who, from sailing before the mast, rose rapidly to positions of importance, becoming captains of their ships at an age when the lads of to-day are just leaving school.

Like a dream seems the life of long ago. No more, save in imagination, do we see the jolly sailor lads with sea legs on, bowling along Derby Street, bound for Kit's Dancing Hall, there to indulge themselves in merry dance or quench their thirst at the flowing bowl. The Old Inn or Ordinary has long since passed away, as has the lumbering stage and jolly drivers, who snapped their whips and cracked their jokes around a cheerful, open fire while waiting for the incoming ships. The large, square homes of yesterday are now degenerated into tenement houses.

Three of the most prominent merchants of that day were William Grey, Joseph Peabody, and Elias Hasket Derby. They owned the greater number of the ships that sailed to foreign ports, and their names are household words. On the wharves still stand their old counting-houses, now put to other uses.

With the decline of commerce and the decrease of shipping, the tide of building turned inland. Large, imposing houses were erected in other parts of the town. Elias Hasket Derby chose as a site for his new house what is now known as Derby Square. The estate was a large one, terraced to the water's edge. The house was of wood, three stories in height, and costing eighty thousand dollars. Much of Samuel Mclntire's best wood work was used here. Not many months after its completion, the owner died, and his entire estate was sold. The house was torn down, much of the timber being used in other houses that were in the process of building. Captain Cook was at that time erecting for his daughter, who married Henry K. Oliver, a stately home on Federal Street. Into this were introduced some of the best specimens of the wood carving. This mansion was a type that came into prominence at the close of the Revolutionary War, a large, square house, three stories in height, showing in exterior finish many of Mclntire's best designs. The gate-posts on either side of the little picket gate were especially carved for the old Derby Mansion, as were the classic columns that support the porch. Not only outside the house but inside as well, one comes across Mclntire's wonderful carving. Step over the threshold, enter the spacious hallway, that like most constructed in that day extends entirely through the house and opens on to an old-fashioned garden beyond. Here the door frames and stairway show the master's handiwork. The broad landing is lighted by a window especially designed. Large, square rooms open on either side of the hall, the one at the right showing scenic wall-paper made in Paris and hung in 1808, A feature of this room is a hob-grate, one of the first ever placed in any Salem home.

The old merchants knew well how to build for comfort and beauty. One of their old houses,

Plate 11. — Doorway, Oliver House, Salem, Mass. Built in i8o2.

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X still standing on Essex Street, Salem, was built in 1750 by one Joseph Sprague, a merchant. It is a rambling, spacious aflfalr, three stories in height at the rear and two at the front. The grounds were extensive, leading to the water's edge.

Major Sprague was a man of standing, Interested in military affairs. It was he that commanded the first uniformed company of light infantry. Organized on April 22, 1776, they applied to the General Court to make them independent of the militia but not of the regiment. In those days their uniform was much more striking than at present. Green coats with gold trimming were worn, also ruffled shirts, the ruffles falling over the hands, under dresses of white, black gaiters, and black hats of beaver ornamented with ostrich plumes. This company soon disbanded.

The ancestral home of Major Sprague has never been out of the family. It was built by him for his bride. Lifting the ponderous knocker, one enters the open door, passing Into a broad hallway with a colonial staircase showing fine, hand-carved balusters. Opening out of this are large, square rooms, filled with rich, old Chippendale. Much of this was brought over in the major's ships. Huge open fireplaces are found In every room. One of them is surrounded by, tiles, picturing ^sop's fables.

Closets innumerable, such as would delight the heart of a twentieth-century housekeeper, are everywhere. There are large ones and small ones. Sometimes, concealed behind panels, were secret closets, but the most important of all, as well as the most historical, has disappeared. This was used in Revolutionary times to shelter one of the servants, a deserter from the Continental Army, who was discovered and shot.

Major Sprague had a comely daughter Sarah, who was a reigning belle of that day. Her beauty attracted the attention of one William Stearns, a Harvard collegian, who lived in the Craigie House at Cambridge, afterwards the home of Longfellow. Every Saturday night he swam the unbridged Mystic River and walked to Salem to see her. They were married in 1776 and lived in the town. He was one of the largest stockholders in the turnpike road built between Salem and Boston, and the story runs that he declared after it was finished he would be able to stand on the steps of his Salem home and look directly into the Boston market. A son of the fair Sarah married Thresea St. Agnan from Trinidad. She was an intimate of

Josephine Tascher de La Pageree, afterwards the consort of Napoleon. A beautiful gold-banded tortoise-shell comb is still kept in the family, a present from Josephine to Agnes.

Many are the interesting historical houses to be found in this city, each of which has a story hidden away under its roof. One of these standing next to the Old Witch House was owned originally by a Captain Davenport. It is mentioned as early as 1662. Later, the captain removed to Boston to take charge of the fortification at Castle Island and on July 15, 1665, was killed "By a solemn stroke of thunder." The estate was then conveyed to one Jonathan Corwan, afterwards called Curwin, a man of prominence in the witchcraft trial through being appointed one of the judges.

Later on his grandson Samuel, an exceedingly interesting man with a most irascible disposition, lived in the same mansion. Graduated from Harvard in 1735, he became a merchant, afterwards taking part in the Pepperrell Expedition against Louisburg as captain and rose to the rank of "Judge of Admiralty." Espousing the cause of the Loyalists, he was forced to leave for England. Returning in 1784, he found his estate in a very bad condition, most of his valuable library

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having been sold. For many years afterwards he was a prominent gentleman in the life of the city and was often seen walking the streets, wearing his English wig, clothed in a long cloak of red cloth, his fingers covered with rings, and using a gold-headed cane as he walked.

There is no purer type of colonial house in the city by the sea, than the Cabot House, built by one Joseph Cabot in 1748 and which was for thirty years the residence of William Crowninshield Endicott, who served under President Cleveland as Secretary of War.

Near Derby Street stands the house made famous by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Here, in May, 1840, he called to see his cousin *'The Duchess," Miss Susan Ingersoll, on which occasion she told him the story of the house, and the name struck him so forcibly that he is said to have repeated it again and again as if to impress it on his memory. From this incident we have the romance of The House of the Seven Gables.

Chapter II

The visitor to Salem has no difficulty in finding the House of the Seven Gables, for any one can direct him there, and he is waylaid by boys who wish to guide him to it.

His way lies through what was once the court end of the town. This quarter, long since deserted by fashion — its fine old houses are now turned into tenements — still retains enough of its ancient state to arouse the visitor's interest. So his mind is in a most receptive mood when a final corner takes him into Turner Street, and he descries at its very end the rear of the ancient mansion, embowered by trees, the long sweep of its lean-to crowned by a cluster of chimneys.

The House of the Seven Gables is most pleasantly situated, overlooking Salem harbor, with a view across the water and of Marblehead in the distance. The house faces the south. Its east end borders on Turner Street, crowding down so close to the narrow sidewalk that the picturesque sign over the shop door swings just over the heads of the passers-by. At the back of the house the lean-to already mentioned slopes down to the yard, while to the west the land extends beyond the garden to the next street.

The steeply sloping roof of the ancient mansion, its sharp, pointed gables, its gray, weather-beaten clapboards, the faded red of its brick chimneys, all attract the visitor. Romance speaks to him from the tiny casements and, dreaming that he shall find Miss Hepzibah herself behind the counter, he opens the shop door and hurriedly enters. The bell over the door jangles his welcome.

It would be hard to find a tinier place than that little shop. And how full it is of everything : of toys, of candies, of baskets and rag mats and antiques and bits of embroidery and, best of all, quaint Jimcrows, the gingerbread men so thoroughly appreciated by Miss Hepzibah's young customer.

The present presiding genius of the little shop stands behind a high, narrow counter surmounted by a very old, quaint, glass show-case. She is a lady of far more charm and tact than was poor Miss Hepzibah, with much of interest to tell about

Plate IV. — Hallway, Cabot Low House, 1748 ; Fireplace, Oliver House.

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h her wares, and answers with great patience ques> tions about the house and the families who lived in it.

The house was built in 1669 by John Turner, a Salem merchant, and was successively owned by his son and grandson, both John Turners. The third John Turner sold the house in 1782 to Captain Samuel Ingersoll. Hawthorne's connection with the house begins with the Ingersolls, who were his kinsfolk. Mrs. Ingersoll was a Hawthorne and a cousin of Hawthorne's father.

Her daughter Susannah was eighteen years older than Hawthorne, although of the same generation. She inherited the estate while still a young woman and was at first fond of ^society, but after an unfortunate love affair she became a recluse. She spent a long life in gloomy retirement in the ancient mansion with no companion except her under-witted maid. Her young cousin, Nathaniel Hawthorne, was one of the few men allowed to cross her jealously guarded threshold.

Miss Ingersoll's old age was cheered by an adopted son, a boy of mysterious birth, supposed by some to be the child of her servant. Whoever he was, Miss Ingersoll was devoted to him. She gave him a fine education and started him in life as a clergyman. He was known at first as Horace Conelly but later took the name of Ingersoll. Miss Ingersoll left him her entire fortune, even her family homestead, the House of the Seven Gables. But unfortunately he proved to be a man of very weak character. He dissipated the fortune, and in 1879 the house was sold for his debts.

In the next few years the house changed owners many times, until in 1883 it came into the possession of the Upton family, who occupied it for twenty-five years. In 1908 it was bought for the use of the settlement to which it gives its name.

In 1909 the house was repaired and fitted up for settlement work, and while it was under repair, many of the original features, or traces of them, were discovered. During its two hundred and forty years of existence some of its gables and its lean-to had been taken off, the overhang closed in, and the secret staircase taken down. A careful restoration was made of all these missing features, a matter of great interest to architects and antiquarians and even to the casual visitor.

Leaving the little shop, the visitor enters directly the old kitchen. This is a small room sheathed with pine boards put on perpendicularly, after the fashion of the earliest times, so as to form a simple pattern. This special pattern is peculiar to the House of the Seven Gables.

An immense fireplace occupies nearly the whole of one side of the room. It is filled with old-fashioned cooking utensils and illustrates the evolution which has taken place along this line. The pots and kettles are swung from a long iron bar placed well up in the chimney. (The crane with which we are all familiar is simply a later development of this primitive bar.) There is a brick oven built into the fireplace, also a Dutch oven, which is a pot with a rim around the cover to hold the hot coals ; and, the last step in evolution before the cook-stove, we find the tin kitchen standing in its place before the andirons.

The most precious of all the furnishings of the fireplace is an old-fashioned toaster from which Hawthorne has had many a slice of toast. Close to the fireplace is a panelled oak chest as old as, if not older, than the house. Flanking the chest is the top of a highboy, which once belonged to Miss Ingersoll and may have been bought of the Turners with the house. As Miss Ingersoll was a conservative person, it was probably not until after her day that the highboy was divided, and the top part set on the floor with feet of its own.

Opposite the highboy is an old-fashioned kitchen dresser, part of which was found in the house, and the rest designed to match. Its shelves now contain samples of crockery and old salt glaze, with specimens of Bennington and tortoise-shell ware. If the visitor is up on such matters, he will have noticed that certain articles in the room are of much later date than others. He is then told that the idea in furnishing the house is to make it look as an old, conservative Salem house would have looked in 1840, the period of the story. That is to say, there is practically no furniture later than 1840, and most of the pieces are much earlier — survivors, so to speak, of the many periods through which the house has passed. The later and more elegant pieces of furniture (generally speaking, mahogany of about 1800) are to be found in the parlor and dining-room, while the earlier pieces of walnut, cherry, pine, and oak have been relegated to the kitchen and attic ; the same is to be said of the china — Lowestoft and lustre supplanting the earlier wares in the parlor and dining-room.

With the determination to note this evolution in household furnishing, the visitor continues on his tour of the house. He leaves the kitchen by a

Coijyright, mill, l>y L\ O. Emmertoii.

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Plate VI. — Hallway, House of the Seven Gables; Hepzibah's Shop, House of the Seven Gables.

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Plate VII. — Dining Room, House of the Seven Gables; Parlor, House of the Se\ en Gables.

dark, narrow passage. A door at its end admits him to a large, sunny, low-ceiled room, which has always been used as a combination dining and sitting-room. The Turners called this room "the hall," a term the early settlers brought with them from England. The Ingersolls called it "the keeping room." To the settlement residents to-day, it is simply the dining-room. It is certainly most attractive with its rare, old, white painted panelling and old-fashioned furniture. The sideboard, dining-table, and secretary are fine old pieces of mahogany. The chairs are of the Windsor pattern. On the wall are pictures of clipper ships and foreign ports and one portrait of a rather grim old gentleman. Under the portrait is the dinner-wagon and a red lacquer tray, once the property of Miss Ingersoll.

In the novel this room is called "the parlor of more moderate size" in contrast to the grand reception room. And here, more than anywhere else, the scene of the story is laid. For this was the room where Colonel Pyncheon was discovered dead by his little grandson, and here after many years that grandson received Matthew Maule the carpenter and sent for his daughter Alice to join them. And this was the room that Miss Hep^ zibah Pyncheon used as the living-room, and where she and her brother Clifford and her little cousin Phoebe ate their meals under their ancestor's frowning portrait. Here it was that Judge Pyncheon came and bullied Hepzibah and sent her to find her brother. The story tells how poor Hepzibah, sadly against her will, goes over the house looking for Clifford. But she does not find him in his room, and when she hurries back to the living-room, Clifford himself comes out of it and points to the judge, who is sitting dead in his chair. Hawthorne does not explain in the novel how Clifford left his room and got down to the living-room, but the house itself offers an explanation.

Beside the fireplace in the living-room is a roundtopped door opening into a brick-lined closet. Entering the closet the guide opens a secret door, revealing a mysterious staircase by which the visitor mounts apparently right into the heart of the huge central chimney. The staircase is very steep and narrow and makes many a turn. Finally, the door at the top opens, and the visitor steps out into Clifford's room. The door closes with a snap behind him. The visitor looks round but sees only the pine sheathing with the pattern peculiar to the House of the Seven Gables.

In response to the question: "Why was the secret staircase built ?" the guide confesses that no one knows. There have been many surmises. Some have thought it was a refuge from the Indians. Others have fancied it was for purposes of smuggling. The most probable explanation seems to be that it was a temporary hiding-place in case of a recurrence of the witchcraft delusion. About 1889 Mr. Upton began to take down the great central chimney and then discovered the secret staircase, which was rebuilt in 1909 from his description. It looks so old that the visitor can hardly believe that it is only a very exact reproduction of the original.

Clifford's room is only a small attic chamber with a mahogany bed and bureau and an attractive set of painted chairs, which belonged in the House of the Seven Gables but were given away at the time the house was sold for Horace Ingersoll's debts. All the furniture was scattered at that time, but since then many pieces have found their way back, either by gift or purchase.

The visitor leaves Clifford's room and makes his way into the open attic, for he came up two stories by the secret staircase and is now under the sharply pointed roof and surrounded by trunks, chests, and bandboxes. This is a good place to understand the structure of the house. The main building had at first just two gables in front and one at each end ; then a wing was built on in front, covering one of the gables, which was largely cut away. This wing had three gables, and the porch, which was built in the angle of the wing and the main house, was roofed by another gable. An old plan of the house shows a wing built on to the lean-to in the rear, which was probably roofed by another gable ; so the house in the time of the first two John Turners probably had eight gables. It seems likely that the third John Turner took off the porch gable, which must certainly have been very troublesome, as its position made it a pocket for the ice and snow. If we omit the porch gable, assuming that it was gone long before the Ingersolls bought the house, we find that the rest correspond very closely to Hawthorne's description of them as they are mentioned in different parts of the novel.