[caption id="attachment_7766" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] Rosslyn, Historic Home in Essex, NY (Source: @virtualdavis)[/caption]
At the heart of this story (and our lives since 2006) is an historic home, a homestead really, located on the Adirondack shore of Lake Champlain in Essex, New York. Dubbed Rosslyn by the W.D. Ross family who built her circa 1820-3 and still known as Rosslyn two centuries later, this stately lakeside property is our home.
Homeport in Wadhams, NY: summer home of Albion V. Wadhams.
This wonderful old house a short drive from Rosslyn was my home during the late 1970s and early 1980s. It was a wreck when my parents purchased it and a handsome home when they sold it. Today it is the home of Matt Foley, owner/operator of River Rat Glass & Electric.
[pullquote]That room with the balconies was my bedroom for a few years…[/pullquote]Growing up at — and helping renovate — Homeport has become a familiar and well worn touchstone for my rehabilitation of Rosslyn. I can’t help experiencing a twinge of nostalgia when I come across artifacts that invite me to ponder back in time. The old postcard below appears to be the same image that was included in the booklet, In the Beginning… Wadhams 1820-1970, that I excerpted in a previous post (Hickory Hill and Homeport), but this is version is far more clear.
That two story porch on the left of the photograph no longer existed when we owned the home, and I alway wondered what may have been on that end of the house. I imagine that the view from that upper deck of the Boquet River flowing below must have been an inviting end-of-day ritual for a few of the homes residents over the year. That room with the balconies was my bedroom for a few years, and I can easily imagine the pleasure of strolling out onto that deck in the morning. In the evening. At night…
A vintage Sherwood Inn postcard received from a Crater Club neighbor.
Without a doubt, one of the greatest rewards of living at Rosslyn is the parade of people I’ve met (and the stories they tell) simply because this house and boathouse have touched so many over the years.
[pullquote]”Everyone’s so busy nowadays,” Lila said.[/pullquote]A couple days ago I answered the front door midday. A smiling, well dressed lady introduced yourself. Lila and I had met a couple of winters ago at the Essex Inn, and she reminded me that she had spent many enjoyable afternoons and evenings at the Sherwood Inn a half century or so ago.
She presented me with a color copy of a Sherwood Inn postcard she had received from a friend long ago. The rear side of the postcard said, “My summer home for June – September 1953. Old looking, eh?” Lila explained that she had been meaning to bring this postcard to me ever since we first met.
Lila’s Sherwood Inn Memories
Lila told me stories about the glory days of the Sherwood Inn, a once popular place for a drink and lakeside lodging in the property where I now live. She named several of the friends with whom she’d wiled away pleasant afternoons in the tavern and on the porch, and several were names that were familiar to me.
Lila also told me about playing tennis at the Crater Club where she still spends the warm part of the year. She lamented the fact that younger generations in her family (and all families perhaps?) seem to spend less and less time relaxing on Lake Champlain during summer vacation. “Everyone’s so busy nowadays,” she explained.
When she shook my hand to greet me and then again when she left I was amazed with her firm grip.
“Tennis,” Lila reminded me. “I played lots of tennis for many years.”
I hope I’ll have another chance to catch up with Lila this fall, another chance to hear about slower times in Essex when friends stopped for drinks at the Sherwood Inn and played endless tennis and vacationed all summer long on Lake Champlain…
Fiery Green Mountains through wavy glass… (Photo: virtualDavis)
It’s impossible to frown your way into the day with this magnificent view smiling back at you. Even the dreamy distortions of wavy glass don’t spoil the effect. In fact, like so many other old home enthusiasts, I love the wavy the glass!
Homes built before the turn of the 20th century have a very distinct characterization that many homeowners may not completely understand: a wavy appearance that can distort the images behind it… There is a certain charm about wavy glass that gives your home an antique, historical value that many homeowners find appealing. Many… appreciate the authenticity and originality of the wavy windows as contributing elements to the overall style of the home. (Angies List)
Rosslyn has greeted spectacular sunrises for almost two centuries, so the least we can offer as her current custodians is respect for her antique quirks. But preserving (and occasionally replacing) Rosslyn’s wavy glass goes beyond respect for history.
One of the things I absolutely love about old houses and antiques is the minor but striking detail and character that wavy glass brings. It’s one of those little things that screams “I came from a simpler time, where things were still hand made, imperfect, and unique!” (Old Town Home)
What is Wavy Glass?
Another wavy glass vision: The Essex ferry bound for Charlotte, Vermont (Photo: virtualDavis)
So what exactly is the story with the wavy glass you see in old houses?
Apparently one of the best explanations comes from an article that appeared some time ago in Old House Journal. Although I haven’t successfully laid my hands on the original article yet, the following explanation is ostensibly quoted from the original. It offers as good an explanation as any I’ve seen, and breaks out the two different varieties of wavy glass.
Crown Glass
For centuries, the best quality window glass was crown glass. To make panes with this method, a glass blower gathered a clump of molten glass on the end of a hollow pipe and blew it into a bubble much like a bottle. As a helper attached a pontil rod to the other side of the bubble, the glassworker broke off the blowpipe creating a hole. Then, by heating the glass and coaxing it with a wood paddle, he quickly enlarged this hole into a rough plate.
Working in front of a furnace to keep the glass hot and fluid, the worker then spun he rod with his hands, often on a supporting bench, so that centrifugal force stretched the glass out into a thin disc – a process nearly identical to a baker spinning fresh pizza dough for a pie. When the blower severed the rod, he had a disc of thin glass, up to 4 feet in diameter.
After annealing this table in another oven to equalize stresses, the glass was carefully cut into panes according to grade and size. The central “bull’s-eye” – the thickest and most malformed part where the rods touched – was usually unsalable and returned to the furnace… (Fairview Glass)
Creating crown glass must have been incredibly time consuming and labor intensive. Suddenly the luxury of early glass panes comes into focus. So nostalgia (and that dreamy filter which subtly distorts the view) and historic authenticity are trumped by a third important reason to value and preserve wavy glass. It retains the intimate contact and hard work of a human being. As old home owners we should feel obligated to honor that enduring investment of human labor.
Cylinder Glass
Learning about crown wavy glass offers an almost romantic glimpse into window’s patina’ed to past. And yet the inefficiency is obvious, and innovation was inevitable.
Though crown glass was made up to the 1850s, it could not supply the need for bigger panes created by a growing population. The glass that could was cylinder glass (also called broad glass or sheet glass), and it dominated this industry for the rest of the century.
To make cylinder glass, the glassworker blew a large tube of glass. After cracking off the blowpipe, the glassworker cut off the ends and slit the tube down one side. From here these shawls were transferred to a special oven where they could wilt and unfold into a flat sheet.
By the 1870s, glass manufacturers were adding pits dug deep in the floor of the glass factory to allow blowers to swing the glass as they blew. The resulting cylinders were up to 18 inches in diameter and a remarkable 7 feet in length.
Two decades later, some manufacturers had mechanized the steps with cranes and compressed air. These cylinders made possible by the Lubbers process – the last before the switch to drawn-sheet glass manufacturing in this century – were several feet in diameter. (Fairview Glass)
Cranes and compressed air?!?! My commitment has been renewed to preserve and enjoy the nuances of Rosslyn’s wavy glass… And you? What’s your take on wavy glass?
It’s always a treat to discover Rosslyn artifacts. Can you just barely spy our boathouse beyond the moored boats?
This intriguing photograph was received from part-time Essex neighbor, Christine Herrmann. This generous Sandy Beach friend has allowed us to traverse her Lake Champlain waterfront with our tractor to rebuild and maintain our seawall during autumn’s low-water levels. And – as if that weren’t enough to qualify her for neighbor superstardom — she periodically shares patinaed glimpses into the sometimes recent, sometimes distant history of our home, waterfront, and village.
“Here’s another photo I found of a long ago summer. Not sure what year but probably early 1950’s. I’m pretty sure it’s of the Essex Regatta, but I do not know any of the boats. Maybe someone will know more.” ~ Christine Herrmann
I am long fond of vintage boats and especially keen on vintage photographs of the summer celebrations that drew boaters and spectators from many miles away to the north shore of Essex Village half a century ago. Although I never experienced the Essex Regattas, I can almost summon up the excited cheers, the starting horns, the healing sailboats, the grinning water skiers, and the roaring speedboats from photographs and newsclippings. I keep hoping that I will stumble across an old home movie if the Essex Regattas, but until then imagination and the generosity of others will serve me well.
I present to you a rather well captured (and equally well preserved) photograph of The Ross Mansion (aka Hickory Hill) circa 1910. It’s always a joy to come across another Essex photo postcard, especially when there’s a direct connection to Rosslyn. In this case, the link is that the Ross Mansion in the photograph above was originally built for, and owned by, William Daniel Ross’s brother, Henry Howard Ross.
This relationship was clarified for me six years ago by Tilly Close, Henry Howard Ross’s great granddaughter.
H.H. Ross [Henry Howard Ross] who built Hickory Hill was the son of Daniel Ross (who was married to Gilliland’s daughter Elizabeth). Henry’s brother, William D. Ross… built your home. — Tilly Close (Source: Hickory Hill and Homeport » Rosslyn Redux)
I touched on this relationship here as well:
I recently happened on this antique postcard of the Ross Mansion (aka Hickory Hill) which was built by the brother of W.D. Ross, Rosslyn’s original owner in the early 1820s. Hickory Hill still presides handsomely at the intersection of Elm Street and Church Street. (Source: Hickory Hill and Rosslyn » Rosslyn Redux)
In the case above, “recently” was sometime around May 19, 2011 when I published the post, “Hickory Hill and Rosslyn“.
And lest I conclude without giving you a glimpse of the pristine back side of the postcard above, here’s the clean but unfortunately information-free reverse of The Ross Mansion postcard at the top of this post.
Rear side of “The Ross Mansion” postcard
And the description, notable primarily for the approximate publication date.
CAPTION: THE ROSS MANSION, Essex, New York.
DATE: Not dated but circa 1910.
SIZE: 3 1/2 x 5 3/8″. Both sides are shown enlarged in the scans.
CONDITION: This real photo postcard is in good condition with wear at the corners. The reverse is age toned, as expected. (Source: ebay.com)
If you’ve come across interesting photographs of The Ross Mansion (likely titled Hickory Hill), Rosslyn (aka The Sherwood Inn, Hyde Gate, W.D. Ross Mansion, etc.), or any other vintage/antique Essex, New York artifacts, please let me know. I’d love to see what you’ve found. Thanks.
Photo of Rosslyn taken from ferry last winter. (Credit: Tanya)
Sorry about that title. Crappy homecoming. Yuck. Not exactly the eggnog-y, balsam fire aromas one dreams of this time of year.
Joyful Homecoming
One blessing of living at Rosslyn is that travel – no matter how captivating – never eclipses the joy of returning home. That’s a bizarre admission from an unabashed wanderer, but it’s true. I’m always excited to return home.
But that may change. Soon.
We just returned from a week and a half in Santa Fe, and while there was much to celebrate upon our return (not the least of which is six inches of dry, powdery snow) something’s unmistakably septic at Rosslyn.
Literally.
Stinky, Crappy Homecoming
Are you catching my drift? I’ll spare you the full details, but the delicate overview is something like this:
Half bath toilet plugged up.
Sewage leaked into sports gear closet.
Mess, stench, etc. almost unbearable.
Yes, this is a repeat performance.
Contractor who plumbed the house must not have understood physics of pitch and gravity. The problem is likely to occur again for a third (and fourth, fifth, sixth…) time because the looong waste pipe which serves the bar sink, bar ice maker, half bath sink and toilet, pantry sink and washing machine lacks the necessary pitch to ensure that all waste – including “solids” – empty properly to the septic tank outside. Again?!?!
Yes.
Short/Long Term Solutions
We’re trying to put the crappy homecoming behind us. A plumber-Roto-Rooter tag team cleared the blockage, and my bride and I spent most of the day remediating the mess. Not fun. At all.
We did squeeze in a magnificent cross country ski to savor the sunset and moonrise from the quiet, aroma-free, perfect powder meadows and wooded trails west of Rosslyn. One part carpe diem and one part “We better remind ourselves why it’s great to be home!”
For a while it was bliss. Spectacular conditions. Ecstatic dog. Picture perfect sun and moon performance art.
But darkness fell, and we’re back to cleaning. And planning.
No More Crappy Homecomings
Apparently the contractor who installed the half plumbing neglected to suggest an obvious solution for a long waste line with inadequate pitch. It’s called a sewage macerator pump. I’ll spare you the description of what it does, but the benefit it that once we install it, we should never have to experience another crappy homecoming. Well, not literally at least!
And that will be worth it’s weight it gold. Which is what the installation is likely to cost judging by today’s rapidly accruing bills…
