We’ve been finalizing a timely transition from porosity to fenestration in the icehouse rehab. Framed but temporarily concealed apertures have been cut out and transformed into doorways and windows. Jamb extensions, sills, and trims — carpentry confections that conjoin and integrate discrete elements into a cohesive architectural whole — are finally complete inside the icehouse. Exterior trims are still in the works.
When Apertures Become Windows (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photograph above the north facing windows in the main room exemplify the coalescing of elements, framing a view of… gravel and dirt!
This view is evolving as I type. Stone walls and stone steps will define the levels and the transitions between them. In the near ground, a lawn will yield to a stone bordered area of plantings that will bridge the lower elevation outside the deck to the upper elevation where the volleyball and croquet court will once again be located.
When Apertures Become Windows (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
With the jamb extensions complete and the window trims installed the next step will be to scrape paint from the windows and install the hardware. Plenty of convergence and completion happening each day…
The art of home is a tidy title with an unpretentious posture. And yet it’s idealistic and evocative, ample and ambitious. Frankly, its restrained and self contained first impression is a little misleading. Maybe even a little ambiguous. What do I even mean? I’m not offering a catchy epithet for design and decor. Nor architecture. And yet, it certainly may include some or all of these. When I describe the art of home, I’m conjuring several things at once.
In conjoining art and creativity with home-ness, I’m alluding to my own personal outlook on an intrinsic relationship between the two as well as an aspirational goal. Home isn’t science. Or, home isn’t only science (or even mostly science.) Sure, there’s science and math and all manner of practical, detail and data driven inputs in transforming a house into a home. But there’s much more. There’s a profoundly personal, subjective, intimate relationship at play in the act of homemaking. And, in the best of circumstances, essential circumstances in my opinion, home becomes a sanctuary for creating, an oasis for art.
All of this binds art-ing and homing. The art of home is a look at the homeness of art and the art of homing. It is an attempt to discern what allows one’s domestic sanctuary to transcend mere utility (a garage to cache one’s car, a grill to sear one’s supper, a nest within which to sleep, a shower with which to wash away the sleep and sweat), to transcend the housing function and become a place of growth and nurturing, an incubation space, a revitalizing space, a dreaming and dream-fulfilling space,…
In the photograph at the top of this post you can see the icehouse, mid-rehabilitation, tucked in beside the carriage barn, both frosted in snow like fairy tales illustrations or gingerbread confections. After a decade and a half my slowly percolating art of home has matured from a pipe dream into a concept into a clutch of sketches into construction plans into a creative collaborative of many. And for a few short weeks I’m privileged to participate daily, to engage in a real and hands-on way after participating from afar, participating virtually. It’s a peculiar but exciting transition. An ongoing transition.
The Art of Home: Poem Excerpt
I’ve been excavating through layers of creativity compressed into, and coexisting within, my notion of homeness. While shaping a house into a home is in and of itself a creative art — indeed a nearly universal creative art, even among those quick to volunteer that they are not artistic, not creative — I’m deeply curious about my awn associations with home as a cradle and catalyst of art. I’m trying to tease apart these different layers of art in a still embryonic poem, so I’ll include only a section about gardening, a creative pursuit that I inherited from my mother decades ago.
...composing a garden,
my own personal patch,
from selecting seeds —
corn, radishes pumpkins,
tomatoes, and sunflowers —
to turning the soil,
working compost
into last summer's
stems and stalks,
into clay clodded dirt,
into July-August hopes.
Watering and weeding,
thinning, scarecrowing,
suckering, and staking...
Composing a garden is but one of the many instances that the art of home means something to me. Cooking. Writing. Telling stories. Pruning the orchard. Entertaining guests. Landscaping. Drawing. Adapting old buildings into new lifestyle enabling and enriching spaces.
The Art of Home: Documentary
At the heart of Rosslyn Redux is a quest to discern and describe what I’m learning about the art of home. But there is still more question than answer. I’m still untangling my thoughts, still reaching for some sort of clarity that might improve my ability to communicate concisely what I have found so captivating, and why it has obsessed me for so long.
But I’m not there there. My journey is ongoing. So I will, for now, offer another perspective on the art of home, a captivating documentary that obliquely sheds light upon our Santa Fe / Essex home duality.
Two indigenous artists create new works reflecting on their tribal homelands, the Wind River Indian Reservation. Ken Williams (Arapaho) is a Santa Fe art celebrity and Sarah Ortegon (Shoshone) is an up-and-coming actress in Denver. Both artists travel to Wind River Reservation to reconnect with their ancestors and present their art work to a somewhat isolated community. (Source: The Art of Home: A Wind River Story,PBS)
Intertwined with Sarah Ortegon’s and Ken Williams’s extended meditation on the relationships between art, creative expression, identity, home, culture, family, and belonging are the perspectives of other Native Americans including George Abeyta who touches on home as a place of strength.
“Your home, it’s a place of your family. It’s a place of warmth and comfort and strength and happiness. It’s the place where were you look forward to going because that’s your stronghold. That’s your place of prayer.” — George Abeyta
In the context of beadwork Abeyta is examining it feels seamless and comfortable the way we moves from beading motifs to home as a bastion of strength, as a stronghold. Also a space where family, warmth, comfort, happiness, and even prayer coexist. Perhaps even where they are rooted, where they thrive. The subject of his reflection, a beaded ornament akin to a necktie, is an intricate work of art, and as such it functions as a vehicle or a vessel to showcase and honor these fundamental elements. This notion of home, and more specifically the art of home, as a sort of sacred space for strength and belonging, for identity and connectedness, for family and for happiness resurfaces throughout this documentary. I encourage you to make time (just under an hour) to appreciate it from beginning-to-end.
It’s time for an icehouse window installation update. I’m pleased to announce fenestrated facades on all four sides!
Fenestrated East Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Aside from window and door trim, three out of four elevations — east (above), south, and north — are now exhibiting their close-to-final appearance. Pretty exciting. Trimming in the jambs will pull it all together, but for now these snapshots offer a pretty good glimpse.
To refresh your memory, this is a notable threshold because we inverted the typical sequence (install windows and doors first, then install cladding). In other words, our atypical workflow pushed out potential hiccups to the eleventh hour…
We flip-flopped windows/doors and siding. That’s right, in order to maintain an ambitious timetable… [we installed] exterior and interior cladding prior to installing the windows. This involved some unintuitive workarounds, reverse engineering an otherwise routine process. So… “windowing” the icehouse has been a unique challenge. (Source: Windowing)
Fortunately, as you can see in the photos, no significant hiccups so far. Only the west elevation (below) is still waiting on installation of the 1st floor double doors and flanking windows. And that’s on hold until flooring is complete. So, hopefully soon!
Partially Fenestrated West Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Aside from fun alliteration, fenestrated facades are an aesthetic and functional leap forward, a *GIANT* leap toward our icehouse rehab finish line. Before I explain, let’s take a quick look at the word, “fenestrated”.
So fenestrated facades are elevations with apertures — door(s) and/or window(s) — that transform the porosity and transparency of the domain.
Fenestrated North Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
By strategically introducing apertures and maximizing transparency in this small structure we’re endeavoring to dilate the living experience beyond the finite building envelope, to challenge the confines of walls and roof, and when possible and esthetically judicious, to improve porosity with abundant new fenestration, dynamic interior-exterior interplay, subtle but impactful landscaping changes (including a new deck) that will work in concert to amplify the breathability of the interior and temptingly invite insiders outside. (Source: Gable End Window in West Elevation)
The fenestrated facades of Rosslyn’s icehouse define a new aesthetic chapter when viewed from without, evolving not only the looks of this historic building over the last 16–17 years, but also delineating this rehabilitated structure from them way it looked for well over a century. From within, it’s still a little premature to evaluate whether or not we’ve accomplished the lofty goals I listed above. But we can begin to appreciate the dramatic increase in natural light, illuminating the interior of the icehouse.
Loft Fenestration (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Natural light and views. The window in the photograph above will look over Rosslyn front lawns, the back of our home, Lake Champlain, and slender slivers of the Green Mountains. My desk will be positioned below this window, so morning will invite the rising sun into my loft study, shimmering across the lake, illuminating my work.
In the photograph below the west gable end window will allow afternoon sunlight to flow into the interior, brightening the main room and loft.
West Gable Fenestration (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Once the double doors flanked with windows, four glass apertures balancing the gable window above, are installed, this west-facing elevation will allow for a seamless interplay of interior and exterior living area. So long anticipated, these fenestrated facades are beginning to bridge the envisioned and the actual. Within weeks I’ll know if we’ve realized the lofty ambition of transforming this small, dark, confined environment into a more ample, permeable, and voluminous experience.
At the outset of Rosslyn’s icehouse rehab, I envisioned posting weekly summaries, highlighting the team’s accomplishments in 7-day installments. Noble vision. Ignoble follow through. Among the many overlooked episodes, one especially significant accomplishment stands out: building interior structure for the loft, bathroom, mechanical room, etc. So today, months after construction was completed, I offer you an icehouse framing flashback.
Much belated but nevertheless heartfelt thanks to Pam, Hroth, Matt, and Justin for transforming Tiho’s interior plans into the skeleton around and upon which the reimagined icehouse will take shape. It’s slightly surreal to reflect back from the finish phase. Mere months ago the rudiments were still taking shape. The internal volumes and flow were being defined. The former utility building purpose built to preserve ice cut from Lake Champlain was beginning to resemble the newly relevant work+play space now coming into focus. Adaptive reuse was perhaps no more clearly articulated than this interstitial moment when a voluminous interior was being reconfigured into distinct zones serving distinct functions. Hurrah!
[The following excerpt, “History of Essex, New York”, has been taken from Chapter XXXIV (pp. 540-559) of History of Essex County with Illustrations and Biographical Sketches of Some of its Prominent Men and Pioneers, edited by H. P. Smith, published by D. Mason & Co., Publishers and Printers, 63 West Water St., Syracuse, NY 1885. Text has been cross referenced between the print original (in my possession) and an online facsmimile found at history.rays-place.com.]
History of the Town of Essex
ESSEX was formed from Willsborough on the 4th of April, 1805. It lies on the shore of the lake, north of the center of the county. It is bounded on the north by the town of Willsborough, east by the lake, south by Westport, and west by Lewis. The southeastern coast is marked by the projection into the lake of Split Rock. On the south side of Split Rock is an oval bay called Grog Harbor, from the seizure and destruction at that place of a bateau-load of rum, captured from the British during the War of the Revolution. The rum was spilled into the harbor to save it from recapture. It is nearly opposite the mouth of Otter Creek and Fort Cassin on the Vermont side. In 1814 the British, designing to seize the stores and ammunitions at Vergennes, attacked the fort The onslaught was made on a Sunday afternoon and was witnessed by large numbers of people who stood on the mountain side south of Split Rock. After the firing of two hundred cannon shots and the dismantling of five of the seven guns of the fort, the discomfited fleet withdrew. This defeat of the British was the precursor of their subsequent overthrow at Plattsburg. On the north side of Split Rock sparkle the waters of Whallon’s bay, a place of surpassing natural beauty.
In 1786 Judge R. A. Heirn settled on a tract of a thousand acres of land west of this bay, erecting large dwellings, barns and tenement houses in the English style, and assuming manorial dignities. His wife was a dusky daughter of the West Indies. The manor is now owned and occupied by Wesley G. Lyon. (See chart made by Judge Heirn and inserted in subsequent page.) Judge Heirn engaged largely in the lumber business, and, through some mismanagement, lost heavily and was forced to dispose of his estates and leave for other parts. The old buildings are still standing and have been put in repair by the present owner. “The broad piazzas, the lawn of many acres sloping down to the shore, the splendid elms and fruit trees, remain as they were planned and set by the original proprietor.”
In the northwestern part of the town is the Boquet mountain, as it is locally termed, with an elevation of about fifteen hundred feet above tide. It is one of the most symmetrical and impressive mountains in the county. The Boquet river flows northerly through nearly the center of the town. It has been described in the preceding history of Willsborough. The formation known by geologists as the Terraces of Lake Champlain are very marked in Essex. They run nearly parallel with the line of the shore, and can be traced for some miles into the interior. The surface of Lake Champlain is only about ninety feet above tide-water, and in the process of excavating in the town, large quantities of marine shells are discovered every year. These shells are also found on the summit of Poke-o’-Moonshine mountain in Chesterfield, a mass of solid azoic rock over two thousand feet above tide. The soil of Essex is clay, loam and gravel, and is well adapted for farming and grazing purposes. The township contains some of the finest farms on Lake Champlain. Large quantities of hay, beans, wool and butter are annually exported. The mineral composition of the soil is a hypersthene rock overiaia with Chazy and Trenton limestone and Hudson river slate. Potsdam sandstone crops out in places along the line of the Boquet river. The limestone is of a superior quality for building purposes and the manufacture of lime. Large quarries have been opened in the town for public works, for building the canals, and for the masonry of the Vermont Central Railroad. It is so stratified that blocks of nearly every thickness can be easily quarried. It takes a high black polish, and has been much used in ornamental work. Great quantities have been burned into lime -in the village of Essex and shipped to various markets. A fine cement rock is also found in this town. The formations of rock are highly interesting on account of the varied and numerous fossils contained in them. In the south part of the town, on the lake shore at Cannon Point, is a remarkable natural curiosity, giving certain evidence of a prehistoric eruption. From a point near the shore, bearing unmistakable signs of having at one time formed the crater of a volcano, is a center from which radiate three veins, or rather streams of igneous rock, one extending towards the lake and constituting the point, one running to the northwest, which has been traced nearly two miles, and the third running to the southwest, which has been traced more than three miles. This melted rock has also filled in many of the horizontal spaces between the strata of lime rock in the vicinity, as may be readily seen along the bluffs of the lake shore. The rock of this overflow is a handsome porphyry filled with rectangular crystals of compact feldspar, which is very hard, susceptible of the highest polish, and has been much used for ornamental purposes.
In the south part of the town, on the lot owned by William R. Derby, is found a very valuable deposit of rose quartz of a superior quality and adapted to the manufacture and finishing of china and stoneware. Many porphyry dykes are also found in this town.
The territory embraced in the boundaries of the town of Essex, in common with the other lake towns of the county, was first taken from the hands of the aborigines by the French. On the 13th of June, King Louis XV, of France gave a large tract of land to Sieur Louis Joseph Robart, his storekeeper at Montreal. Nathaniel B. Sylvester, in his valuable work, Northern New York and the Adirondack Wilderness, quotes the description of this seigneurie as follows: “Three leagues front by two leagues in depth on the west side of Lake Champlain, taking, in going down, one league below [north of] the River Boquet, and in going up, two and one-half above said river.” The French, who never effected a settlement, were forced to recede before the power of British aggressions on the conquest of 1760. Their possessions were practically confiscated by the British government and disregarded in the location of its subsequent grants. The French claimants for a long time appealed to both the courts and crown of England to obtain the restitution of their possessions, but without success. In many cases they were conciliated by equivalent grants of land in Canada. Even since the Revolution they have a number of times asserted their claims in the courts of this country. In 1809 the Supreme court of New York rendered a decision adverse to the validity of the French concessions. (See Johnson’s rep. 18, 163.)
There was no settlement in the town which tended to the permanent colonization of the country until the arrival of William Gilliland in the spring of 1765. This eminent pioneer first purchased parts of the seigneurie of Sieur Robart, king’s storekeeper at Montreal, and attempted to found a baronial manor, in imitation of those situated on the Hudson river. His first tract was six miles front on the lake and from three to four deep. He afterwards purchased other extensive tracts, a full account of which and his later persecutions is given in earlier chapters of this work.
He was born near the city of Armagh, Ireland, about 1734, and received his education there. His cultured manners, general intelligence, and fine person, made him a favorite wherever he was known. He became attached to a young lady of fortune and noble parentage named Lady Betsey Eckles. The disparity in their birth and fortune reared a barrier, and her family secluded her and used their influence to secure his banishment. He then enlisted in the 35th Regiment of the line, and after four years’ service was discharged, alone and friendless, in Philadelphia. He went to New York, entered a prominent mercantile house, and within a year became a partner. He married Elizabeth Phagan (February 8th, 1759), the beautiful and accomplished daughter of his partner, receiving with her a dowry of £ 1,500. His later operations in Essex county are, as we have said, detailed in preceding chapter.
He has numerous descendants still living, in this town and in Willsborough, which it will be interesting to name.
William Gilliland’s daughter Elizabeth married Daniel Ross about 1785, and settled at what was then called Elizabeth, now the village of Essex. His daughter, Eliza Ross, was the first white child born in the town (1786). Daniel Ross was the first settler in what is now the town of Essex. He built the first iron works in Willsborough in 1800, and was always a most liberal patron of the iron trade in all its branches. He was sheriff of Clinton county before its division, and represented that county in the State Legislature. He was appointed the first judge of Essex county, when it was formed, and held the office nearly thirty years. One of his sons, General Henry H. Ross, afterwards a prominent man in Essex county, was one of the first white children born in the town (1790). General Ross lived in Essex all his life and died in September, 1862. He was unanimously elected the first judge of the county under the new constitution of 1846, and several times represented his district in Congress. As adjutant of the Thirty-seventh Regiment of Militia he served on General McComb’s staff at the battle of Plattsburg, and was afterwards and for some time a major-general in the militia. Of his descendants, his youngest son, Anthony J. B. Ross, two daughters, Mrs. Ellen B. Fairbanks (widow of Rev. J. N. Fairbanks, an Episcopal clergyman), and Frances J. Ross, now live together in the old homestead called “Hickory Hill” in the village of Essex. This homestead was built by Henry H. Ross in 1820. In 1822 Henry H. Ross married Susannah Blanchard, daughter of Judge Anthony J. Blanchard, of Salem, N. Y. She died February 26th, 1877.
James B. Ross, another son of Henry H. Ross, is now practicing law in Denver, Col. His son, Henry H. Ross, 2d, in July, 1881, married Anna Noble, and in December, 1882, died at Denver, leaving one child, a son, James H. H. Ross, who was born the day before his father died. He now lives with his mother in the village of Essex, at her place called “Rosslyn,” and represents the fifth generation in the direct line of the descendants of William Gilliland. The other descendants of Daniel Ross and Elizabeth Gilliland were William D. Ross, who passed all his life in the village of Essex, and died in 1844. He was extensively engaged in lumbering and mercantile business, and the manufacture of iron. His descendants are now living in Chicago, Plattsburg, and in Washington county, N. Y. Edward Ross, another son, who died unmarried in 1825, aged thirty-three years. The two daughters of Daniel Ross were Eliza, wife of Charles Platt and afterwards of Ransom Noble, late of Essex, and Sarah, wife of Charles Noble, late of Elizabethtown.
The children of Henry H. Ross, now living in Essex county, are James B. Ross, lawyer, of Denver, Col.; Frederick H. Ross, merchant, of Dowagiac, Mich.; and John Ross, for many years engaged in building steam and sail vessels, and in general wood manufacturing at Essex, and flO\v of the Plattsburg Dock Company. His adopted daughter, Susannah Ross, is the wife of Rev. E. D. Cooper, D.D., rector of the Church of the Redeemer at Astoria, Long Island, N. Y. Sarah Shumway, granddaughter of Charles H. Platt and Eliza Ross (above named daughter of Daniel Ross and Elizabeth Gilliland) is also a resident of Essex.
Charlotte Gilliland, another daughter of William Gilliland, was married about 1786 to Stephen Cuyler. Their son, John Cuyler, married Phoebe Hoffnagle. Of their children now living in the town of Willsborough are John B. Cuyler and Susannah Cuyler, who reside together about two miles south of the village of Willsborough. Other descendants of Stephen Cuyler are living in New York, Philadelphia and Chicago.
Another daughter of William Gilliland, Jane Gilliland, was married to John Bleecker, of Albany, where many of his descendants now reside.
His other child, William Gilliland, settled near Plattsburg, the present residence of his descendants.
The sketch or chart on the next page is a fac-simile of an original map found among the papers of the late General Ross, and forms a comparison of the handwriting and statements, with other early records, deeds and surveys showing the ownership and description of lands in the vicinity at the date of its making; it is identified as the work of Robert A. Heirn, whose history has been elsewhere given in this chapter. It includes a large tract then owned by him, and was made in the year 1786. It is without doubt the oldest sketch in existence showing the location of farming lands and highways in Essex county, just after the Revolution.
Part of William Gilliland Tract
The following is a statement showing the present owners of the tracts named in the map, or of tracts included in or including said tracts, furnished by Mr. Anthony J. B. Ross, of Essex:
OLD MAP. PRESENT OWNERS.
Gilliland Block-house farm James B. Ross.
Higgins David S. Hayward.
Ross Northerly part, including the
house, designated on map William R. Derby.
Southerly part Belden Noble.
Easterly part Essex Village.
Gilliland Easterly part Essex Village.
Central part Farm of A. J. B. Ross & Sisters.
Westeriy part Adam K. Stafford & M. McFarland.
Heath Easterly part Village of Essex.
Westerly part Adam K. Stafford.
Northerly part Ezra K. Parkhill.
Southerly part Henry H. Noble.
Hoffnagle, 100 acres, (No. 4) Henry H. Noble.
Heath lot, 100 acres, Henry H. Noble.
200 acres, (next south) Northerly part Roswell C. Waite.
200 acres, Southerly part Samuel D. Tuttle.
Botts, Samuel D. Tuttle.
Hoffnagle, 100 acres, (No. 3) Stephen D. Derby.
Jewett, 100 acres, Stephen D. Derby.
W. Low lot, 50 acres, Stephen D. Derby.
Hally’s lot, 50 acres, Stephen D. Derby.
Hoffnagle lot, 160 acres, (No. 1) John Burt.
Havens lot, Wesley G. Lyon.
The lot obtained of Bolts, 125 acres, Westerly part Joseph W. Cross.
The lot I live on, 110 acres Easterly part, Wesley G. Lyon.
Anthony J. B. Ross has, in his custody a paper in the handwriting of General Henry H. Ross, containing valuable historical memoranda relating to the town of Essex. It was written about 1840. It states that the first settlers were from Duchess county, and numbered Daniel Ross, Isaac Sheldon, Thomas Pray, and Abram Reynolds. Shortly afterward Amos and Benjamin Stafford came from Scituate, Rhode Island. The first school in the town was kept by Mrs. Erasmus Towner. The first male teacher was Enoch F. Henry, who taught in 1789. The first tavern was built by William Ring in 1786. The first grist-mill was erected in 1810, at Boquet, by William D. Ross. About the same time and at the same place he built a rolling and slitting-mill and nail factory. The first store was built and conducted in the village of Essex in 1784 by Daniel Ross, who about the same year built a saw-mill at Boquet and a grist-mill at Willsborough. The first regular religious service was initiated by Henry Boynham,an English Episcopalian, in 1800. Delevan Delance, a resident of Essex, was one of the earliest sheriffs of the county. Reuben Whallon, of Whallonsburgh, held the office of first judge of the old Court of Common Pleas. The first law office in the towns of Essex and Wilisborough was built of stone about midway between the two villages about 1800 by Judge Martin Aiken. It is now a tenement house on the farm of Benjamin Fairchild.
Other pioneers of Essex were Daniel Murray, Henry Van Ormand, Dr. Colborn Clemens (the first physician), David and Abner Reynolds, Nehemiah Payn James Eldrich, Thomas Stafford, E. Eggleston, and Richard Eggleston.
Soon after the close of the Revolution, and before the inhabitants of the town had settled into the habitual repose of continued peace, a block-house was constructed about three-fourths of a mile north of the village of Essex on the farm now owned by James B. Ross (now called Faulderwood). It was an pretentious structure built of logs, and evidently intended rather as a protection against the unbridled ferocity of Indian hatred, than against the assaults of civilized enemies. In 1799 upon the formation of the county it was converted into a court-house, and used as such until, under the act of 1807, the county buildings were erected at Elizabethtown. There is considerable uncertainty about the date of the construction of this building. Mr. Watson in his valuable history has united with French’s Gazetteer in placing the date as late as 1797. But, as will be seen by reference, it is indicated in the Heirn chart made in 1786 and printed in these pages. Captain Martin Eggleston thinks it was erected in 1775, but this seems improbable from the slight possibility that it could survive the devastations of the war, and the fact that there was probably no need of a block-house here at so early a date. The most probable theory, therefore, seems to be that it was built soon after the War of the Revolution.
Resuming the narrative of early settlement it may be stated that General Ransom Noble came to Essex in about 1800 and engaged successfully in the tannery, lumber, and iron business. His sons, H. and B. Noble, succeeded him in business. Henry Noble, another son, now deceased, settled at Elizabethtown where his family now reside. Charles Noble, also a son, formerly resided in New York city. The family of Harmon Noble, deceased, now live in Essex, and the family of Belden Noble, are at Washington, D. C. Henry Harmon Noble, son of Harmon Noble, and the only male representative of the family at Essex, resides in the house formerly occupied by his father, and in earlier days by General Noble himself. The place is appropriately called “Sunnyside.” (See biographic sketches in later pages.)
Amos and David Stafford occupied two lots on Whallon’s bay immediately after the close of the Revolution. In 1792 Judge Charles Hatch moved into that part of Essex known as Brookfieid, where he remained until 1804. He then went to Westport. Mr. Watson states that the removal of his family from Brookfield to Westport (on North West bay), a distance of eight miles, occupied two days, and required the labor of four men to open a roadway for the wagon.
Such was the general condition of the neighborhood previous to the beginfling of the present century. The villages and settlements increased gradually in population and business activity. Lumbering was carried on extensively, the iron industry was a bud of great promise; taverns owned by men who were endowed with generous licenses to engage in the traffic of liquors grew abundant, and potash factories flourished with an ease that made them seem indigenous. Commerce on Lake Champlain did not reach its greatest activity for a number of years, but something of its future began to be manifest, and the village of Essex, the most thriving of the three which exchanged courtesies in the town of Essex, sprang into considerable prominence as a commercial and ship-building center.
Before the War of 1812 the craft that sailed the lake were very small, there being none, according to the statement of Captain Martin Eggleston, that would carry more than forty or fifty tons. Several large sloops were built in Essex in 1811 and 1812, and, indeed, the principal boat-building on this side of the lake was done here. Richard Eggleston built in 1810 the first sloop that ever sailed the waters of these northern lakes. She was built for William D. Ross, who named her the Euretta. Soon after, when the clouds of approaching war hung threateningly over the whole country, larger craft were required, and Richard Eggleston built eight or ten vessels of more than one hundred and fifty tons burden. He undoubtedly constructed more than a hundred freight vessels in all. In 1811 and 1812 he commenced building two sloops, The President and The Richard, the former for John Boynton, of Plattsburg, and the latter for Gideon King, of Burlington, who, among others, had obtained letters of marque and reprisal, and designed using the sloops for privateering purposes. Before the craft were finished news arrived that the British fleet was coming to bombard Fort Cassin on Otter creek, across the lake. The sloops were hastily caulked, launched, taken to Barn Rock on the south side of Split Rock Point, put in the bay and completely concealed beneath huge masses of brush. In about two weeks the British bombarded Fort Cassin in order to weaken the strength of the navy yard at Vergennes, but without success. After the bombardment the British anchored in a line in front of Essex, furled their top-sails, threw out their guns towards the village and made every preparation to fire. The British commander came in towards shore and wanted to know if the citizens desired a truce. In response to a signal from General Henry H. Ross they came ashore, and a parley was held. The Englishmen spied upon the shore the spars which had been prepared for the sloops, and demanded information concerning the whereabouts of the vessels. He was told they were at Whitehall, whereupon he ordered his men to cut the spars to pieces. He immediately retracted his order, however, with the observation that the Revolutionists “could easily get more.” The sloops were afterwards finished and passed through exciting vicissitudes, under the names of the Growler and the Eagle. They were taken by the British and recaptured at Plattsburg.
This was not the only visit paid to the site of Essex village by British enemies. In the War of the Revolution the fleeing British, retreating from Ticonderoga after the defeat of Burgoyne, were intercepted here by a party of “Green Mountain Boys” under Ebenezer Allen, who captured fifty prisoners and all their military stores.
The lumber markets in those days, it will be remembered, were Montreal and Quebec. Enormous quantities of square timber and sawed lumber were shipped there from all points along Lake Champlain. A number of sloops were manufactured to carry lumber south after the completion of the canal to Troy. Between 1825 and 1836 there were probably one hundred and twentyfive sloops sailing the lake. Richard Eggleston also built two hundred and fifty row galleys or bateaux for the American fleet on the lake. His son, Captain Martin Eggleston, who was born at Essex in 1806, sailed on the lake from 1821 to 1863.
As early as 1810 there were three asheries in the territory now composing the town of Essex. One near Whallon’s bay, owned by Judge Heirn, one about six miles west of the village of Essex, owned by Daniel Ross, and one in the village of Essex, owned by William D. Ross. It is estimated that these three asheries manufactured from two hundred to three hundred tons of potash annually. General Ransom Noble owned and conducted a tannery in Essex as early as 1800, and was extensively engaged in the lumber and iron business. About 1810 there were three taverns in the village of Essex, kept by Amos Anson, Nathan Nichols and Isaac Drew. There were seven outside the village, as follows: one at Whallon’s bay, kept by a Mr. Miller; one at Whallonsburgh, kept by Sawyer Carter; one kept by Benjamin Stafford in the west part of the town; one on the same road toward Westport from Stafford, kept by John Burt; one six miles west of the village of Essex kept by Jesse Reynolds, near the potash factory of Daniel Ross; one kept by N. Wallace, about a mile west of the village, and one at Boqüet. Shortly after 1810 General Wright kept the hotel now run by J. C. Baldwin.
William D. Ross had a distillery just north of Essex before 1820, which was probably the only one in the town.
Farming remained at a low ebb until as late as 1830, when the lumber trade began to decline. The western parts of the town were cultivated first, although the most fruitful soil lies along the shore of the lake.
Town Officers, etc. – The records of this town are not in existence until after the year 1820, as far as we have been able to ascertain, which prevents the publication of the names of the first officers. We have, however, obtained the names of the successive supervisors after and including the year 1818. They are as follows: 1818-19, Reuben Whallon; 1820-21, Ralph Hascall; 1822 to 1824 inclusive, William Smith; 1825-26, Ransom Noble; 1827 to 1829 inclusive, Reuben Whallon; 1830-31, John Gould; 1832, Richard Eggleston; 1833 to 1835 inclusive, Henry H. Ross; 1836-37, William D. Ross; 1838-39, Abel Baldwin; 1840, Henry H. Ross; 1841-42, Samuel Shumway; 1843-44., Belden Noble; 1845-46, Daniel North; 1847-48, Michael H. Stower; 1849-50, Edward S. Shumway; 1851-52, Palmer E. Havens; 1853-54, William D. Ross, 2d; 1855-56, Eli W. Rogers; 1857-58, James Stafford; 1859-60, Phillip S. Baldwin; 1861-62, Belden Noble; 1863 to 1865 inclusive, John Hoskins; 1866 to 1868 inclusive, John Ross; 1869-70, George W. Palmer; 1871, Jonathan Mather; 1872, Buel D. Bacon; 1873-74, Jonathan Mather; 1875, Andrew J. Tucker; 1876 to 1878 inclusive, Walter D. Palmer; 1879, W. H. Stower; 1880 to 1883 inclusive, Charles W. Tucker; 1884 to present time, Anthony J. B. Ross.
Population of Town.- 1850, 2,351; 2,115; 1860, 1,633; 1865, 1,501; 1870, 1,600; 1875, 1,867; 1880, 1,462.
The first muster roll from the county at the outbreak of the Rebellion was taken in the town of Essex. Captain William D: Ross, eldest son of General Henry H. Ross, took about forty men from the town early in May, 1861, and had them incorporated with the Anderson Zouaves, under Colonel Riker at New York city. The following is a list of the volunteers as named in said roll, most of whom he commanded as lieutenant and captain. The roll is dated May 2d, 1861: William D. Ross, Belden R. Parkill, James Phillips, Charles Hoffnagle, Edmund Atherton, Albert Green, John Maloy, Joseph Hall, William E. Pratt, Horace A. Pratt, John Gordon, Franklin J. West, Samuel F. West, Henry H. Tucker, Andrew Todd, Napoleon Durant, Joseph Martin, Friend A. Smith, Charles P. Saywood, Henry W. Baldwin, George Tucker, James Stone, John Reed, Peter Lowe, Ira P. Knapp, Nathan W. Lincoln, E. Story, John Damady, Horace Smith, Franklin Flurry, Edwin Clemmons, F. A. Brown, George Chase, Artemas Woodruff, Daniel Cross. With a few exceptions the above names represent the men who left the town in May, 1861, to take an active part in the great struggle. The brave and gallant captain of this company, William D. Ross, did not live to see the cause, for which he was willing to sacrifice his life, victorious. On the 25th day of October, 1861, while in the line of his duty, the railroad track near Washington, he was struck and killed by a passing train. He was buried with military honors at Washton, where his remains rested until his death was made known to his friends in Essex, when he was brought home and buried in the family vault. At the time of his death he was thirty. one years of age, and had been in the practice of law in Essex for about eight years. For further military details see the chapter devoted to that subject.
MUNICIPAL HISTORY.
The town of Essex contains three villages, Essex, Whallonsburgh, and Boquet. The village of Essex, the largest and oldest of the three, is situated on the shore of the lake in the northeastern corner of the town. As stated in the earlier part of this chapter, it was at one time one of the chief ports on the lake, and until after 1840 was an important ship-building center. Iron was manufactured here extensively at one time, but these industries have died and have been replaced by others.
Mercantile. – As early as 1815 William D. Ross, Ransom Noble, and John Gould were store-keepers here. How long they continued is not known, but they had been succeeded by others years before the oldest merchant now in the village began business here.
The merchant of longest standing in the village is William R. Derby, who has traded here since September, 1854. At that time he bought out the general store of Wesley G. Lyon, who had been a general merchant in the place about eight years preceding. Mr. Derby has occupied his present building about eight years. Andrew J. Tucker has sold general merchandise in this village since 1861. He was in partnership with Welsey G. Lyon until 1864, when that relation was dissolved and a new partnership established between Mr. Tucker and D. E. Field. This firm was not separated until 1880. Mr. Tucker has been in the building he now uses from the start, with the exception of the six years between 1863 and 1870. He carries a stock estimated at $8,000. Buel D. Bacon opened a hardware store in Essex in the fall of 1868. He then purchased the stock and good will of Theodore Calkins, who had conducted the business for several years previous. Mr. Bacon has been in his present building since 1881. In 1873 S. D. Derby started a general store in company with his brother, W. R. Derby, and remained with him four years. Since 1877 he has been alone. He carries a stock of about $15,000.
W. J. Hoskins commenced dealing in furniture about 1875. In July, 1884, his brother, E. W. Hoskins, entered into partnership with him. W. J. Hoskins died in January, 1885, since which time his brother has conducted the business alone. E. H. & C. H. Stafford (brothers) began to keep a general store here in 1882, being successors to W. G. Lyon, who had conducted a like business in the same building since 1868.
George D. Anson established a store in the building now occupied by him in 188o. It is the same building which H. D. Edwards had used as a store years ago, but it had been vacant for some time when Mr. Anson came into it. Ira C. Stafford, a jeweler, also has a jewelry and music store in the village. W. W. Wilson has had a feed store here since November, 1884. Mosier Ferguson has had a shoe-shop in this village since 1875, and Charles Michon since 1878. R. Fortune, tailor, has been engaged in his present occupation here since 1842. For the first twenty years he occupied the house now used as the Congregational parsonage. He came into the building he now occupies in 1867.
Manufactures. – The Essex Horse Nail Company (Limited) was incorporated in June, 1879. There were originally, and are now, about fifty shareholders in the company. The first officers were: President, Palmer E. Havens; vice president, Alpheus A. Morse; secretary, Walter D. Palmer; treasurer, William R. Derby; superintendent, James Mills. Directors besides the officers above named: Stephen D. Derby, Wesley G. Lyon, Anthony J. B. Ross, Seth Crosman, Charles A. Martin, Lyman Barton, John N. Oliver, James H. Howe.
The company purchased the ground and buildings of Lyon & Palmer, who had up to that time, 1879, used them for the manufacture of sashes and blinds. One of the buildings was remodeled into the present machine-shop, and another converted into the store-house. The office and other buildings were erected anew. The total cost of the building and remodeling was about $20,000, and of machinery and fixtures about $25,000. The works and office are situated on the shore of the lake. where the company own a wharf for their own convenience. It affords those interested in lake traffic the benefits of competition between this wharf and three others in the same village. The company employ, when running in full force, sixty or seventy hands. The president of the company now is Hon. Palmer E. Havens; the vice president is D. F. Payne; secretary and treasurer, W. D. Palmer; superintendent, C. W. Woodford. Mr. Woodford has been superintendent since May, 1880. The capital stock of the company is $80,000, paid up. (See biography of C. W. Woodford herein.)
The old sash factory of Lyon & Palmer, mentioned above, stood on ground which formed originally the ship-yard of Hoskins, Ross & Co., the firm being composed of John Hoskins, John Ross and Wesley J. Hoskins. Subsequently James B. Ross became interested in the concern, the firm title was changed to The Essex Manufacturing Company, and the business to the manufacture of sashes and blinds. Lyon & Palmer bought them out in 1877. The old shipbuilding business was killed by the construction and opening of railroads on both sides of the lake.
Hotels. – Essex village has two hotels. The oldest one, that now kept by J. C. Baldwin, was erected and kept by General Wright before the beginning of the present century. Some parts of it are supposed to be a hundred years old. It is a fairly well-preserved centenarian. General Wright conducted the hotel business therein until about 1810. The present proprietor has been here since May 1st, 1874. He was preceded by Eli Farnsworth. Some years before the beginning of the Civil War, Charles G. Fancher came into possession, and was followed successively by William Brainard, who left in 1861, Martin Eggleston, Edward Burt, Webster W. Royce, Parker Torrance, Sidney Carr, Eli Farnsworth and J. C. Baldwin.
North’s Hotel was built by Delavan Delance about the year 1830 for a private dwelling house. Afterwards Noble Clemmons remodeled it into a hotel and kept it until about 1850. The present proprietor, De Lloyd W. North, took possession in 1882. Before that it was vacant for a time, the last proprietor before the vacancy being Harry Palmer. William Brandeau preceded him, his term beginning May, 1874. Before Brandeau was Eli Farnsworth; prior to Farnsworth’s occupancy the house lay idle for years, probably since 1864 or ’65. In 1861 William Brainard came in and remained three or four years.
The Professions.- Hon. Palmer E. Havens began the practice of law in the village of Essex in 1841. He was admitted at Plattsburg after passing a period of study in the office of General Henry H. Ross. He has ably represented his county and district in the Legislature as Assemblyman and Senator. (See biography.)
FIRST NAME
LAST NAME
James B. Ross, now of Denver, Col., was admitted in 1854, and practiced in Detroit until 1859. From there he removed to Houghton, Mich., where he stayed nine years as the attorney for the copper mining companies of Michigan. He came to Essex in 1868. In 1874 his brother, Anthony J. B. Ross, who practices here now, went in with him. They practiced together under the firm style of Ross & Ross until 1882, when James B. Ross moved to Denver. During his residence in Essex, James B. Ross was one of the wardens of St. John’s Church. He was also largely interested in the business pursuits of the town. Anthony J. B. Ross graduated at Hobart College, Geneva, N. Y., in 1866, and was admitted to practice at Albany in 1874 after studying the requisite period with the firm of Hand, Hale, Swartz & Fairchild, of Albany. He is the present supervisor of the town. The law-office now occupied by Mr. Ross was built (of stone) by General Henry H. Ross in 1812.
Edwin R. Chase, M.D., aged fifty-seven years, came to Essex in 1858. He received his professional education in the Albany Medical College.
Dr. Edward B. Atkins, aged thirty-six years, was graduated from the Albany Medical College in 1874, and came to Essex in May, i88o. In 1877 he received the Adeundem Degree from the University of New York city.
Union School. – The Essex Union School was formed April 12th, 1866. The first trustees were Wesley G. Lyon, E. R. Eaton, and Robert Fortune, one year; Ezra Parkhill, E. R. Chase, M.D., and R. Morse, two years; Palmer E. Havens, John Hoskins, and John Ross, three years. The office of first clerk and librarian devolved upon Wesley G. Lyon E. R Brougham was the first principal. Under the new regime the school remained for a short time in the old brick house which now stands about ten rods south of the one at present occupied. The trustees very soon secured an old dwelling house, formerly owned and occupied by General Ransom Noble, and moved it on to the school lot. It was denominated the Academy building. Finding it unfit for the purposes to which it had been converted, the board in 1867 erected the present structure at a cost not exceeding $5,000. The primary department has been since added. The present trustees of the school are as follows : – Committee on teachers: Wesley G. Lyon, W. J. Hoskins (since election deceased), William H. Stower. Committee on finance: Walter D. Palmer, Dwight E. Field, Henry H. Noble; committee on buildings, etc., H. W. Parkhill, Myron Eggleston, and George Anson. The present clerk of the board, H. W. Parkhill, has officiated continuously since 1875. There are three teachers in constant employment, F. M. Hickok being at present the principal. The average attendance of the school is about one hundred and thirtyeight.
Churches. – The most ancient church organization now existing in the village of Essex is undoubtedly the Congregational Church, though it cannot date its origin back of the period of religious services held by the Episcopalian, Henry Boynham, mentioned in the memoranda of Henry H. Ross.
Presbyterian Church. – This church was organized on the 3d day of December, 18 15, by the Rev. Cyrus Comstock, of the Berkshire and Columbia Missionary Society. The records show the first members to have been Ira Manley, Reuben Whallon, Ralph Hascall, Mary Hascall, Theodosia Gould, Annis Wallis, Asa Frisbie, Mrs. Fairchild, Mrs. Higby, Mrs. Throop, Chloe Higby. Among the members who were soon after added to the society were Fanny Little, Julia Lynde, Betsey Earle, Ellen Gilbert, Mrs. Boynton, Dr. Abel P. Mead, Dr. Samuel Shumway, Hannah Shumway, Phoebe Eggleston, Eliza Whallon, Daniel Lynde.
The first preaching, in addition to that of the Rev. Mr. Comstock, was by Rev. Asa Messer. About the year 1823 Ira Manley preached occasionally. At this time meetings were held in the brick school-house in Essex and in the school-house near Wilisborough Falls. It was a Congregational Church until December, 1830, when the members from Essex adopted the ecclesiastical government of the Presbyterian Church. Previous to this time the society embraced the towns of Essex and Wilisborough; but when the Essex congregation changed to the Presbyterian government, the two towns separated their church interests and the Wilisborough congregation continued under the original form of worship. Following are the names of the elders after the change: James S. Whallon, Abiel P. Mead, Asa Frisbie, Colonel William Smith. The first church building was erected in the year 1818. The movement which resulted in the building of the church was preceded by the circulation of the following subscription paper : – “We, the subscribers, do hereby associate ourselves into a society for building a meeting house, or a place of public worship, in the town of Essex, on or near the site of the old school-house which was burned, on the hill in the rear of the dwelling house of Ezra Parkhill. And we do severally agree to pay to a committee of three persons the several sums respectively annexed to our names for the purpose aforesaid, which said sums shall be paid in four equal quarterly installments, in cattle, grain or iron, to wit: The one-fourth part of which sums to be paid by the first day of May next; the remaining three installments by the first days of August, November and February next thereafter, in cattle, grain or iron, or in material acceptable to said committee, who are to be chosen and elected by the said subscribers at a meeting to be held at the house of Delevan Delance in Essex, on the first Monday in December next. And the pews or other property of the said meeting house and the ground appropriated for the same shall be disposed of according to the resolutions of the said subscribers at a subsequent meeting; shall be at such time and place as shall be appropriated by the first meeting aforesaid. Dated Essex, November 10th, 1817. “Henry H. Ross, $400 including an acre of land at $125; W. D. Ross, $300; Ransom G. Hatch, $250; Ralph Hascall, $150; John Gould, $100; (name illegible) $100; D. Delance, $50; D. B. McNeil, $75; Charles McNeil, $5 (cash); Luther Adgate, $50; Ezra Parkhill, $50; Charles B. Prindle, $50; Luther Prose, $40; John Earl, $25; Jonathan Little, $75; James M. Hayes, $20; Sawyer Carter, $25 ; Simeon Pangburn, $5; H. A. Hawley, $25; Ezra Coats, jr., $5 (a gratuity); David Delance, $4; Willard Church, $5; Asahel Row, $4; J. G. Cornell, $5; D. W. Sturtevant, $5; David Jacobs, $5; Joshua Martin, $50; Russell Vaughn, $5; Dean Delance, $6; Samuel C. Taylor, $25; Elijah Carter, $15; John Hoffnafle, $50 (but if preparations are making for building a meeting-house in Wilisborough, before the frame of Essex meeting-house is raised, then $25 to be deducted;) Hine Clemons, $50; Solomon Cook, $25; William Braman, $10; Thomas Edwards $10; Phineas Haskins, $5; Silas C. Perry, %5; These names were all signed with a wafer and seal numbered consecutively.
The church erected in 1818 was used until 1821, when a supplemental subscription paper was issued to raise funds to complete the building. In this subscription paper appears the name of H. A. Hawley for “$2 towards painting, and $3 towards interior finishing, when the same shall be half done.” The present church was erected in 1853 at a cost of about $10,000. The corner stone was laid December 13th, 1853, the services being conducted by Rev. J. T. Willet. The value of the church property, including the parsonage, is about $10,000.
Following are the names of the successive pastors who have served the church since 1827: 1827-30, Rev. Vernon D. Taylor; 1831-32, Rev. J. B. Baldwin; 1832 to 1844, Rev. Joel Fisk; 1844 to 1847, Rev. A. Bronson; for a short time after 1847, Rev. Moses Chase officiated; 1850-51, Rev. J. G. Randall; 1852 to 1865, Rev. J. T. Willet; 1865 to 1882, Rev. C. N. Wilder; 1882-83, Rev. Thornton Mills; present pastor, Augustus Frederick. The present church officers are as follows: Trustees, Henry H. Noble, C. W. Tucker, Thomas Maguire, William H. Stower, E. R. Chase, M.D., C. H. Stafford, William R. Derby, D. E. Field, A. A. Morse. Elders, A. A. Morse, B. F. Lee, Edwin R. Chase, M.D., O. C. Morse, E. P. Morse, C. H. Stafford, W. E. Atherton. Deacon, Asa Hale. The membership is one hundred and thirty-one.
There has been a Sunday-school connected with the church from about the beginning of the organization. A. A. Morse has held the office of superintendent for more than twenty years. Membership is ninety.
Methodist Episcopal Church. – This church was organized January 12th, 1835, the original trustees being as follows: First class, William D. Ross, John Gould, Hine Clemons; second class, Noble Clemons, Lewis Ladd; third class, Charles C. Cheney, Asa Derby. The present church edifice was begun soon after the organization, but it was several years before it was finished. In 1852 the Wilisborough people, who had been associated with the church during the first seventeen years of its life, effected a separation. The ministerial succession in the church has been as follows: Lewis Potter and John Graves and John Haslan; Arunah Lyon and Benjamin Cox; Aaron Hall and O. J. Squires; J. D. White and Benjamin Pomeroy; J. D. Burnham and A. Garvin; S. Coleman and Henry Taylor; J. D. White and ____ ; J. D. Burnham and M. B. Wood; William Arner and ____ ; David Osgood and O. J. Squires; John Graves and J. D. Wescott; Josiah Chamberlain and D. H. Loveland; William Arner and ____ ; in 1852 W. H. Meeker; followed by Andrew McGilton, Matthias Ludham, Joel Eaton, Joseph Cope, J. M. Puffer, George W. Brown, D. N. Lewis, John Vrooman, J. D. White, M. N. Curry, J. W. Thompson, C. H. Richmond, W. P. Rulison, George H. Robbins, 1876-79; E. J. Guernsey, 1879-82; J. M. Edgerton, 1882-85; and the present pastor, Elam Marsh, who came in the spring of 1885.
The church building was extensively improved in 1876 and again in 1884, the last time at a cost of about $1,000.
The present officers of the church are as follows: Stewards, W. H. Adsit, (district steward); 0. Parker, B. D. Bacon, M. Sibly, Z. Clark, G. D. Anson, C. E. Hoskins, E. W. Hoskins, L. L. Calkins, recording steward. Leaders, A. E. Winslow, W. D. Palmer, D. S. Whallon. Trustees, John Hoskins, chairman, W. G. Lyon, B. D. Bacon, W. H. Adsit, M. E. Eggleston, clerk. Sunday-school superintendents B. D. Bacon and Mrs. F. J. Avery.
The Baptist Church of Essex village was an offshoot of the Essex church at Brookfield, and was organized in 1838, with a membership of eighteen. Elders Hodges and Walden of Elizabethtown supplied the pulpit the first three years and increased the membership to one hundred and five. The church was begun in 1840 and completed in 1842. Fifteen ministers have officiated, viz.: Revs. C. W. Hodges, J. H. Walden, Lyman Smith, Isaac Waldron, Elias Huriburt, C. H. Pierson, K. Smith, C. W. Walker, E. A. Wyman, George E. Henderson, Calvin Fisher, Luman Kinney, Stephen Wright, I. E. Howd, S. W. Nichols, J. R. Taylor, A. H. Stock. Rev. A. H. Stock left in April, 1884, since which time the church has been without a pastor. The present deacons are Philip S. Baldwin and Aiken E. Sheldon, who also perform the duties of church trustees. Albert Baldwin is the present church clerk.
St. John’s Church, Essex, (Episcopal,). – The church was organized March 21st, 1853, the missionary in charge being Rev. F. C. Putnam. The persons present at the first meeting were, Rev. F. C. Putnam, Henry H. Ross, William H. Low, Henry N. Gould, Ezra Parkhill, H. A. Palmer, Elihu Gilbert, Seth Crossman, Peter Chamberlain, William Buch, Henry D. Edwards, Henry Barker, Charles A. Martin, William E. Sayward, Asa P. Hammond, and George E. Atwater.
The organization of this church was mainly due to the efforts and influence of Mrs. Henry H. Ross, and her daughter, Susannah M. Ross, now Mrs. Cooper. The first officers were as follows: Henry H. Ross, senior warden; Asa P. Hammond, junior warden. Vestrymen, Henry N. Gould, William H. Low, Henry W. Putnam, Ezra Parkhill, Seth Crossman, Elihu Gilbert, George E. Atwater, Charles A. Martin.
From 1853 to 1877 services were held in a building erected by Henry H. Ross about 1835 for a school-house on the lot where the present church edifice stands, and by him devoted to the uses of the church during those years. In 1877 the church purchased the building and lot, removed the old building to its present site and rebuilt it in its present form, from designs by the Rev. John Henry Hopkins, D.D. In the same year the rectory was built on the same lot. The church is a frame building supported by buttresses on the east side. with a wing for the organ chamber and vestry-room, and a bell cot at the north end. It contains a marble altar constructed from stone found in the town. The base is of blue limestone, sanded, the sides and top of dolomite cut from a boulder found in the vicinity, which presents a variegated surface resembling mosaic work. It is supported at the sides by pillars of black marble (blue limestone polished), and surmounted by a super-altar of the same marble and a cross of dolomite which, as well as the front of the altar, is inlaid with porphyry and marbles of different colors. It was made from designs by Dr. Hopkins and was his gift to the church. The church also contains a tablet to the memory of Henry H. Ross, the founder of the parish, and another to the memory of the Rev J N. Fairbanks, the third rector of the parish, both being erected by the vestry.
The following have officiated as rectors of this church: 1853-54, Rev. Fernando C. Putnam; 1855-56, Rev. Edmund D. Cooper; 1857-60, Rev. J. N. Fairbanks; 1862-65, Rev. Edmund D. Cooper; 1865-66, Rev. Charles Husband; 1867-68, Charles C. Fiske; 1868-69, Elias Weil; 1869-70, Rev. John Henry Hopkins, jr., D.D.,; 1871-72, Rev. James E. Hall; 1873-76, Rev. J .W. McIlwaine 1878-83, Rev. E. L. Toy; 1884, Rev. Norman Irish, D.D., who is the present pastor.
The present number of communicants is ninety. The officers are: Stephen D. Derby, senior warden; Andrew J. Tucker, junior warden; A. J. B. Ross, Robert Fortune, Moses Knowlton, H. E. Woodford, Edward W. Richardson, Charles. W. Woodford, Edward B. Atkins, M. D., vestrymen.
A Sunday-school was organized at the same time with the church; the rectors have been superintendents.
St. Joseph’s church (Roman Catholic.) – This church was organized in 1872. The first trustees were Michael McFarland and Terence McFarland.. First priest, Rev. James Shields. The church building was begun in 1872 and finished in the next year, at a cost of about $9,000. Following are the names of the successive priests who have served the church: Rev. John Redington, Rev. John H. Sullivan, Rev. Mr. Devlin, M. A. Holihan, the present priest. The present membership comprises about one hundred families. The trustees are Terence McFarland and Victor Fuller. A Sunday-school has been conducted since the organization of the church, with the priest as superintendent.
Freemasonry. – Essex lodge No. 152 (the first in the county), was chartered February 14th, 1807. Its records are lost but it seems to have been in existence as late as 1822. The present Masonic lodge of Essex (Iroquois lodge, No. 715), was chartered June 7th, 1862. Its original membership numbered about fifty. The first officers were: James B. Ross, W. M.; Andrew J. Tucker, sen. warden; George Alexander, junior warden. The present officers are as follows: Charles J. Merriam, W. M.; W. M. French, senior warden; 0. E. Hayes, junior warden; John B. Cuyler, senior deacon; G. F. Eggleston, junior deacon; Dwight E. Field, secretary; A. J. Tucker, treasurer; G. A. Calkins, senior master of ceremonies; David S. Hayward, junior master of ceremonies; H. J. Hinkley, tiler. Lodge meetings are held in the store building in which Stafford Brothers keep store.
In August, 1869, a chapter (Split Rock chapter, Number 243), containing a membership of twenty-five, was organized. The first high priest was John Ross. William Hoskins held the office of king; Franklin D. Bennett, of scribe; Ambrose Brunell, of captain of the host; and Joshua Bennett, of principal sojourner. The present officers are: D. E. Field, H. P.; D. S. Hayward K.; H. S. Stower, S.; A. J. Tucker, C. of H.; Anthony J. B. Ross, P. S.; John B. Cuyler, R. A C. (royal arch captain); J. W. Chamberlain, M. 3d V. (master of the third veil); George Alexander, M. 2d. V.; Asa Frisbie, M. 1st. V.; H. J. Hinkley, tiler.
Postmasters. – The first postmaster of which any record can be found is Judge John Gould, who officiated from a date antecedent to 1818 until about 1838. He was succeeded by Dr. E. P. Mead, who served his country in the capacity of mail distributor four or five years, and was in turn superseded by Charles J. Fancher. He gave place to Robert Fortune about six years after he had taken the oath of office. By another presidential transformation Charles G. Fancher became successor to Mr. Fortune. The latter was re-instated after a short period, and in a few years again gave place to Mr. Fancher. In about 1875 Walter D. Palmer was appointed and retained the office until the spring of 1885, when E. W. Hoskins, the present incumbent assumed the duties of the office.
Boquet. – This is a small hamlet situated about three miles to the southwest of the village of Essex, on the Boquet river. It was formerly a flourishing manufacturing community. The first manufacturing efforts of civilized man in this village were put forth in 1810, when William D. Ross erected a grist, mill on the bank of the river, and about the same time built quite an extensive rolling and slitting-mill and nail factory. As early as 1784, however, Daniel Ross conducted a general store here for the accommodation of the early settlers who had established themselves in scattered families along the river side. There must have been, too, at that early date, some lumbering done about the site of Boquet, for Daniel Ross also ran a saw-mill here in 1785. It was probably engaged entirely in supplying the home demand. After 1810 the place began to assume considerable local importance. Business did not die out there for many years. Henry H. Ross, in his memoranda before mentioned, written about 1840, states that in Boquet there was then “a large mill for the manufacture of rolled iron and nails, a grist-mill, etc.” There has never been and is not now a post-office here. In 1828 a district school-house was built of stone and in octagonal shape. It still serves the original purpose of. its erection. In 1855 an Episcopal chapel was built on the hill in the south part of the village, but was purchased by the Baptist and Presbyterian element of the community in 1880, and is now used as a union church. Brookfield and Essex clergymen supply the pulpit. Little remains of the business activities of ancient days. The old dam has been worn away rather than washed away, and the mills are the more silent in that they arouse an idea of former thrift and industry. The only business now conducted in the old village is that of C. W. & W. A. Tucker, dealers in produce and general merchandise. They started a hay barn about eight years ago, and soon after built the store near the railroad. They still press hay and dispense merchandise to the inhabitants of Boquet and vicinity.
Brookfield is a farming settlement in the west part of the town, which has one store, that kept by James Reynolds for the past three years. There is also at Brookfield one of the oldest Baptist Churches in the county. About the beginning of the present century they held services in an old log building, and afterwards in a barn, until their church edifice was completed (before 1809). In 1809 Rev. Solomon Brown, who founded the churches of Keeseville, Elizabethtown, Jay and Westport, is named as a delegate from the Essex Church (at Brookfield) to the association held at Elizabethtown. The church then had eleven members. Sixteen pastors have presided over her ecclesiastical councils: Solomon Brown, Jeremiah H. Dwyer, J. B. Wilkins, E. Goodspeed, E. P. Adams, J. S. McColum, Charles Berry, Elias Huriburt, C. Fisher, E. W. Allen, W. Gussman, W. S. Bush, S. W. Nichols, J. R. Taylor, E. M. Lynch, W. H. Stock. Her largest membership was attained in 1837, when it numbered one hundred and forty-three. Her present membership is about fortyeight. Judge Charles Hatch’s’ residence here from 1792 to 1804 has been mentioned in a previous page.
Whallonsburgh.- Next in size to Essex, though last in the date of its existence as a village, is Whallonsburgh. R. A. Ferguson, who came to the place in 1870 with his father, John Ferguson, describes it as being then an unbroken forest. His father, a carpenter, struck the first blow to clear the land and build the first dwellings and factories of the new settlement. He came from Washington county, N. Y., in the service of Reuben Whallon, who had come from the same vicinity about two years before. Mr. Ferguson built a saw-mill, just in the rear of the present site of William F. Blinn’s store, and a clothing factory near where the sash factory now is. The place grew very gradually; lumbering constituted the principal business of the inhabitants. A. Hale soon built a grist-mill on the hill in the western part of the village, and was soon followed by William Smith and James S. Whallon, who erected a grist-mill which now forms the west end of the sash factory. Smith & Whallon, not being contented with their milling profits, built a plaster factory adjoining the grist-mill. This business throve mightily, teams frequeatly coming from Vermont for loads of plaster. In 1840 a fine forge existed here, built by the proprietor, James S. Whallon. The clothing works and one grist-mill were still running. William Smith, probably the first postmaster, had received his appointment prior to 1825. James S. Whallon followed Smith, Lewis Cady followed Whallon, and in about 1860 Eli W. Rogers followed Cady. Mr. Rogers has officiated uninterruptedly from that time to the present. The industries now active in the village may be briefly noticed as follows: In 1881 Edgar Chamberlain and Eugene, his brother, succeeded William H. Richardson in the manufacture of blinds and sashes. The business originated in 1869, Samuel Root, William H. Richardson and V. C. Spencer being the first proprietors. In 1872 Messrs. Root and Spencer withdrew. James S. Whallon built the mill which was formerly used as a carding-mill. The Chamberlain Brothers lease the premises of Samuel Root. They keep about fifteen hands busy and can turn out about seventy doors in a day, and have made as many as 1,500 pairs of blinds in a month.
The grist-mill now running, in Whallonsburgh was built about 1830 by James S. Whallon, soon after the former mill of Smith & Whallon had been damaged beyond repair by a freshet. Jonathan Mather, the present owner, has held the title for a great many years. John R. Mather superintends the running of the mill.
F. J. Avery has been a general merchant here since 1870. He established the business himself. William F. Blinn started a store here in April, 1885. John R. Mather is proprietor of a cabinet shop, and G. J. & J. G. Waiker run an extensive hay barn.
The village boasts a Union Church, which was organized not far from 1830. The present edifice was erected before 1840, James S. Whallon contributing most generously towards its construction. The Presbyterian and Methodist clergymen at Essex preached here. Rev. Joel Fisk first officiated, and Rev. Joseph T. Willet preached here for about thirteen years. They organized a Sabbath-school almost at the beginning.
The present school-house was built in 1851. Miss Mattie Stafford is the present teacher. The district is extensive, and consequently the school always has a large attendance.
Today it’s commonplace in carpentry and construction to build with materials that are factory finished. In other words, raw materials (flooring, trim lumber, etc.) are delivered to a job site, pre-dimensioned, pre-surfaced, and ready for installation. While there are times (ie. custom windows and doors) that we rely upon the efficiency of offsite fabrication and factory finishing, the icehouse rehab has incorporated an extensive amount of field finishing — on-site material preparation such as re-milling garapa (upcycled from deconstructed deck) into wall paneling and transforming rough cut lumber into finished hardwood flooring — in an effort to repurpose surplus building materials and architectural salvage.
Calvin Field Finishing Woodwork (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photograph above, Calvin Cumm is planing poplar that was harvested and rough-sawn on property approximately a decade ago. We’ve “high graded” the well seasoned poplar, culling the best quality material for finish trim, stair treads and risers, etc. Although the amount of field finishing we’ve undertaken for this project has increased labor inputs and drawn out the timeline, it was one of the defining principles for our scope from the outset. There are quicker and less expensive ways of rehabilitating an obsolescent icehouse into a 21st century work+play hub. But adaptive reuse and upcycling and repurposing are challenges worth investing in as much for ecological responsibility and the enduring value of quality, custom construction as for the merits of collegial collaboration and knowledge-sharing. We habitually eschew “cookie cutter” renovations for creative, consequential challenges that encourage team wide learning. We’re as concerned with process as product. And we love adventures! Reasserting creative control over the ingredients as much as the recipe can yield surprisingly rewarding results. As much for us, the homeowner, as for the remarkable collaborators who’ve contributed to this project.
Call it a 184-day streak. Or call it dogged determination. Either way I have 181 days to go until I reach my goal. And with each new post, each small victory, I am growing more and more confident that I will accomplish my mission of 365 posts, one complete year of daily updates beginning on August 1, 2022 and concluding on July 31, 2023.
So how to commemorate this midpoint milestone? With 6 months down and 6 months to go, it feels momentous enough to pause and praise my good fortune. But should this benchmark be acknowledged with a celebratory salute? A solemn ceremony? A toast, my first spirited sip after 31 days of teetotaling? (Yesterday marked the conclusion of my 7th or 8th, maybe even my 9th “dry January”.) Or perhaps a decadent dessert after a sugar free month? (For some sadomasochistic reason I’ve decided in recent years to add a sugar fast to alcohol abstention during the month of January, a timely recovery after the excesses of Thanksgiving-through-New Years…) A new month (ie. rabbit-rabbit) ritual transcending the delicious dinner I shared with Jim and Mark two nights ago at Juniper?
Slow Cooked Whole Rabbit: cumin, blood orange and smoked paprika glazed, corn tortillas, chimichurri, salsa fresca, refried beans (Source: Juniper at Hotel Vermont)
Maybe a romantic romp with my bride who suggested, upon retrieving me from the airport yesterday, that we celebrate a belated anniversary to compensate for the one we missed this past autumn when she was unwell. 17 years of marriage and 21 years together. I’m incredulous even as I type these numbers. Neither seems remotely possible. But my 50th birthday seemed similarly inaccurate this past spring, and I’m obliged to accept it.
Or how about we honor the 200th anniversary of Rosslyn’s front façade, ostensibly completed in 1823? (Apparently 3/5 of the building — the two window portion to the north of the entrance, as well as the entrance itself — was completed in 1820. The remaining 2/5, including the two windows to the south of the entrance and comprising the dining room downstairs, a guest bedroom and Susan’s study on the second floor, and another guest bedroom on the third floor, was most likely finished three years later in 1823, fulfilling the the architectural promise of this classic Federal home with Georgian and Greek Revival elements.
An auspicious confluence of milestones and anniversaries. I’m choosing to interpret this is a good omen even as I nevertheless acknowledge that I’ve meandered from my original mark, hoisting the flag at my halfway point, mid-journey in my post-a-day quest. I recall an earlier waypoint in this quest, an update I published on October 10, 2022 when I was still just shy of halfway to where I am today.
Yesterday marked ten weeks of old house journaling. Every. Single. Day. Two months and ten days back at the helm of this wayward, meandering, sometimes unruly experiment I call Rosslyn Redux. I emphasize the daily component of this benchmark because it’s been an important part of the goal I committed to at the end of July. (Source: Old House Journaling)
Then as now my emphasis on everyday journaling remains a top priority.
Over the last few years, Susan and I have scrutinized our hopes and expectations with Rosslyn. We have reevaluated our plans as they originally were in 2006 when we embarked on this adventure and as those plans evolved during the decade and a half since. It’s been an extended period of introspection, evaluating our current wants and needs, endeavoring to align our future expectations and goals with respect to one another and with respect to Rosslyn, and challenging one another to brainstorm beyond the present.
There’s no question but that our impromptu quarantine at Rosslyn during the spring and summer of 2021 catalyzed some of this soul-searching. But so too have the many life changes in recent years. Our gradual shift toward Santa Fe as our base and Essex as our getaway rather than the other way around. The loss of Susan’s mother. My parents’ retirement near us in Santa Fe. Our nephews and nieces growing up and expanding their orbits far beyond Rosslyn. A perennially postponed but driving desire to collaborate on a smaller, efficient, creative lakeside home of a different DNA altogether, an unrepressable will to imagine into existence the sort of slow cooked (albeit shapeshifting) and highly experimental homestead we originally envisioned in 2003-5 when we first began to explore our Adirondack Coast homecoming. And there is that hiccup in our 2006 original timeline, our 2-4 year vision for homing at Rosslyn until we’d managed to reboot and reground, until we were ready for our next adventure. Those naive expectations were eclipsed — willingly and joyfully — within the first year or two.
So what does this have to do with my daily Rosslyn updates?
Everything.
In committing to this daily practice last summer I was acknowledging that I had some serious work to do. In order for us to constructively sort through out collective vision for the future, to determine whether we’re too fond of Rosslyn to proceed with plans for designing and building the lakeside retreat we’ve conjured over the years, to honestly assess our willingness and our readiness to hand this sanctuary over to another family, both Susan and I are undertaking the sort of “deep work” that will hopefully enable us to make some decisions. I’m talking about 100% honest, prolonged consideration. Rosslyn has quite literally been a part of our family, and not just our nuclear family. Can we untangle her? Are we willing to let her go? Can we joyfully pass the privilege on to new custodians? Or are we not yet ready?
For me this daily practice, digging deep into sixteen and a half years of living and loving Rosslyn, is my time and place to work through these questions. To sort it all out. To find peace and confidence in my convictions. And six months in, I believe that I’m on the right path. Not all the time. There have certainly been some tangles and tangents that got away from me before I realized what was happening and reined them in. But the constant conversation — *internal* as I study, reflect, and compose these installments as well as *external* as I share these updates and then interact with many of you — is reinvigorating and reawakening Rosslyn from her comfortable slumber (and me from mine!)
So this midpoint milestone is a profoundly significant benchmark for me personally. It’s the tangible representation of my germinating confidence and clarity. It’s the measurable mean between a conflicted outlook and the conviction I’m hoping to discover over the next six months. In a real sense, it’s a halfway point toward the sort of rehabilitation that we’ve been undertaking with Rosslyn’s buildings and grounds since 2006, only in this case the journey is profoundly personal. Instead of historic architectural rehabilitation, it is restoration of my innermost wonder, my romantic dreams, and my idealistic hopes. With passion reawakened and a map forward becoming more apparent each day, I’m tempted to see this benchmark as the sort of celebration enjoyed upon finally reaching a base camp, a lofty peak viewable in the distance foreshadows the ambitious ascent ahead but also offers a majestic affirmation of the reachability and proximity of the summit. Today marks just such a halfway point, an opportunity to appreciate the accomplishments so far, and an incentive to forge ahead.
I would love/hate to renovate an old house because…
When Rosslyn Redux comes up in conversation with new acquaintances, I’m reminded again and again that home renovation is a universal theme. Whether folks have firsthand experience renovating an old house or have always dreamed of turning a tumble-down into a work of art, whether they’ve watched a friend’s marriage come unraveled while trying to renovate an old house or simply know viscerally, instinctively that they would never voluntarily undertake a home renovation, everyone has strong feelings on the subject. Everyone!
In fact, I’ve begun to wonder if the inherent value of recounting the Rosslyn Redux adventure might be that it invites others to share their own stories. On Friday I posted the following invitation on Facebook and Twitter:
Complete the phrase: “I would LOVE to (or would NEVER) renovate an old house because…”
The comments I received kept me smiling, laughing and cringing all weekend. On Sunday I gathered all of the responses and randomly drew one comment to win a Rosslyn Redux cap. The winner is John Sherdon who’s sage comment is included in the list of favorites I’ve quoted below. John, shoot me your mailing address and I’ll send you your cap. And thanks to everyone who submitted comments!
“I would love to renovate an old home because I have experience. My family has renovated 2 of our old homes. It can be a financially stressful project. The beauty of the renovation is keeping the character and charm of the original while creating something new. The fear is uncovering more and more to renovate – The worst phrase that often comes out: “Might as well re-do that too.”” ~ John Sherdon
“I would never renovate an old house because my wife would murder me, early in the process.” ~ David Diamantes
“I would love to renovate a house because during the process it tells you their story and when the home is restored to what it once was it is like a story told that remains with you for ever.” ~ Valasie August
“I would NEVER renovate an old house because I like my roofs and I like my marriage! I saw The Money Pit…”Two weeks… two weeks….”” ~ Lorca Damon
“I would LOVE to complete your phrase when we EVER complete the renovation of our old house…” ~ Kimberly Rielly
“Never! Ever! Again. Because I have, and you shouldn’t go broke twice!” ~ North Country & Hudson Valley Rambler
“I actually helped my parents renovate their old home when I was a kid, and had a blast. I also worked in a historic museum, and would love to have the chance to bring back an old home to life.” ~ Sherman Yazu
“I would never renovate a house because I still have the report card that reads “Sharon’s mechanical abilities are fascinating to watch.” Seriously. Do NOT ask me to build anything; it will just be bad.” ~ Sharon Cathcart
“I would renovate a house on a dime! I mean, change is like a holiday :)” ~ Kim Falconer
“I would love to renovate a house because I love to create. Unfortunately, I do not have carpentry skills.” ~ Mia T. Starr
“My parents bought and renovated an old home (built 1820). 45 years later, they’re ALMOST able to say that they’ve completed the process. (Time to start their second renovation?) Although I admire those who do – and definitely enjoy the funny/interesting stories that go along with the undertaking – I would never renovate an old home … which is precisely why I built a new one.” ~ Jane Hooper
“I would LOVE to renovate an old house because I grew up with a father who did exactly that. And when he would finish, we’d move so he could start over and do it again. It was amazing to see the transformations, and very rewarding to help make it happen.” ~ Kristy Ullman
“We already renovated an old house – time-consuming, money-draining, effort-taking… but so worth it!! Had some spooky goings-on as well…” ~ Mandy Cowley
“As an architect, my brother, chose twenty years ago to restore a run down mansion in Bernardsville, NJ. It’s been a long and never ending project and has also been financially taxing. I would never renovate an old house because I do not have the patience, determination, dedication and cash to devote to such a project.” ~ Rosamond Lincoln-Day
“I would LOVE to renovate an old house, because peeling back the layers is like revisiting periods of time… It’s amazing what you can find out about the people who lived there before.” ~ Rose Wall
“Hiya! My husband and I renovated an older house and I have to say, with time and financial constraints, it was a pain. We plan to do it again, minus the limitations. Creating that transformation and bringing a forgotten house back to life is AMAZING.” ~ Sarah Ballance
“I would love to renovate an old house because what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger; )~ I speak from personal experience having renovated a mid century mess into a beautiful house that I adore and that now feels like me…and Yes, I’d do it again in a heartbeat:)” ~Michelle Shell Rummel
What about you? Would you LOVE to renovate an old house? Or would you NEVER renovate an old house?
Rendering for Icehouse Rehabilitation: East Elevation Gable Window (Source: Tiho Dimitrov)
I mentioned recently that framing for the expansive gable window in the west elevation of Rosslyn’s icehouse was completed, and the change was monumental. Now we’re on hold, anticipating the big reveal in a few months when the new windows arrive and the sheathing can be trimmed. For now that facade is concealed behind a plane of green ZIP paneling, effectively shrouding the dramatic transformation until springtime. Anticipation, I tell my dog, is have the pleasure…
Today, however, I’m able to update you on Hroth‘s gable window framing for the *east elevation*. Hurrah! As you can see in Tiho‘s rendering above, the openings on the lake-facing facade will remain virtually unchanged except for a shift from opaque (solid wood openings) to transparent (glass window and door). But the the east elevation gable window will be integrated into a whimsical Essex sunburst motif that echoes the same detail on the third story, west elevation gable end of the main house. I will focus on this detail separately once we’ve made a little more progress.
In short, we’ve endeavored to maintain the public view shed much as it has appeared in recent decades albeit with a reimagined sunburst embellishment that weaves the icehouse together with the main house, the gates, and multiple additional sunburst motifs throughout Essex and the Champlain Valley.
Envisioning the icehouse rehab from within, the photo below helps orient the new window as it will be experienced from the loft (still not framed) and, to a lesser degree, the main room. Morning light will illuminate the interior, offering a restrained prelude to the magnificent afternoon lighting that will bath the icehouse as the sun sets into the Adirondack foothills.
Icehouse Interior, East elevation gable window (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
The closeup below captures Hroth at the end of a long day of carriage barn carpentry looking a more than a little bit ready for some heat and a more comfortable perch. But it also captures the just completed window framing below the header, perfectly echoing the slope of the icehouse roof.
Another closeup, gets a little closer to imagining the perspective when standing on the future loft floor.
Icehouse Interior, East elevation gable window (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
Framing East Gable Window
Shortly this aperture will be concealed behind insulated paneling much like the west elevation, but for a fleeting moment longer we can appreciate the natural light entering through the east elevation gable window framing, and we can try to imagine the daybreak view of Lake Champlain, warm sunlight illuminating the north elevation of the main house as it rises up into the summer sky.
A new perspective is emerging as Hroth frames my future office window (from the icehouse loft). Looking east (actually southeast in this photo), this will be my morning view. Panning to the left 10 to 15° the view will be filtered through the enormous American Linden (basswood) tree and across the upper lawn, through the ancient ginkgo tree and across the front lawn to Lake Champlain. (Source: Loft Office View)
Holes in walls. Such rudimentary changes to a building envelope. And yet such profound transformation!
By strategically introducing apertures and maximizing transparency in this small structure we’re endeavoring to dilate the living experience beyond the finite building envelope, to challenge the confines of walls and roof, and when possible and esthetically judicious, to improve porosity with abundant new fenestration, dynamic interior-exterior interplay, subtle but impactful landscaping changes (including a new deck) that will work in concert to amplify the breathability of the interior and temptingly invite insiders outside. (Source: Gable End Window in West Elevation)
The photo below hints at the future porosity of the this space. Imagine the window near bottom right once it is glass.
Icehouse Interior, East elevation gable window (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
Of course, framing in the balcony and eventually adding blisters will shift add interesting layers, shadows, textures, and other nuances to the transparency looking east from within. Perhaps an interior rendering or two will help imagine forward…
Rosslyn boathouse during Adirondack mud season (Source: Geo Davis)
I recently returned to Rosslyn after almost two months away. It was my single longest absence since buying the house in July 2006, and the extended hiatus was a bit surreal. I departed Essex in February and returned in April!
For readers familiar with life in the Adirondacks, you’ll remember that we have the distinction of a fifth season in addition to spring, summer, fall and winter affectionately known as “mud season”. Okay, not so affectionately. Mud season — tied with black flies for least sexy North Country inconveniences — is tolerable for two reasons:
Sugaring: Authentic maple syrup is an Adirondack staple. Remember the smell and flavor of real maple syrup, before corn syrup and artificial flavoring and coloring elbowed their way onto the breakfast table? Sugaring is as much a gourmet delicacy as it is a theme of story lore. Extracting maple sap and concentrating it into syrup or sugar wasn’t just a local sweet source before grocers and box stores. According to Bill Yardley, sugaring provided an occupation for lumberjacks during mud season.
Transformation: Like a rite of passage, the Adirondack mud season is sometimes dreaded, usually messy, often cathartic and almost always revitalizing. Tucked between winter and summer, two of the most glorious North Country seasons (the other two are spring and fall,) mud season is our annual reminder that we aren’t living in paradise, just a near-perfect facsimile of paradise.
This year I was traveling during mud season (not altogether a coincidence, I admit) which meant that I missed almost the only snowfall that the Champlain Valley experienced this winter. The silver lining? I also missed the slush and mud that followed.
Maple Syrup (Source: Wikipedia)
But despite my absence, life at Rosslyn sailed on smoothly. By now you may have realized that my bride runs a tight ship, possibly even more so when I’m away from home. And with Doug and Lorri contributing muscle and follow-through to my bride’s decrees, not much slips between the cracks. Except for the tattered flag…
Upon returning from my travels I discovered that a concerned passerby had stopped to complain about the tattered American flag flapping over Rosslyn boathouse. He spoke with Doug, referenced his years of military service and departed. By all accounts, the passerby was courteous and respectful, and his concern was justified. Old Glory was in a sorry state of neglect.
Doug promptly replaced the tattered flag and assumed that the case was closed.
It wasn’t.
A few days later the same gentleman returned and expressed his gratitude. And then he departed. No name. No way to thank him for his attention. A mysterious stranger with a patriotic soul and a neighborly spirit.
Clearing Out Historic Icehouse (Source: R.P. Murphy)
Sixteen years after plunging into renovating Rosslyn we are… finally tackling the looong postponed icehouse rehabilitation. Sweet sixteen. (Source: Redacting Rosslyn v2.0 – Rosslyn Redux)
In the image above you can see a notable improvement from previous images of the interior of Rosslyn’s historic icehouse. This underutilized outbuilding had become a storage space in the 15-16 years since it was saved from inelegant rot and collapse. Over the last few days the icehouse is being purged by Pam and Tony so that we may at last begin rehabilitation and repurposing.
We entirely gutted the building in 2006 in order to structurally salvage the building. The northern and sorter facades had bowed at as the roof collapsed. The term used by the contractors at the time was “corn cribbing”. Once gutted, the north and south walls were gradually pulled back together over many months a little bit at a time, gradually restoring the structural integrity of the building so that new roof rafters could be milled and installed. That is what you see again today. But over the years the icehouse had become a lumber, architectural salvage, and woodworking space, gradually filling up so full that it was scarcely possibly to move around inside. That was still the case when the engineers from Engineering Ventures made a recent site visit.
Engineering the Icehouse (Source: Geo Davis)
Engineering the Icehouse (Source: Geo Davis)
I’d guess that there’s still about a day of decluttering and organizing before the historic icehouse is once again stripped bare and ready for the next phase of rehabilitation. All of the materials that were removed have been inventoried and relocated to the carriage barn and the new storage container we’ve rented for the duration of the project. Hhhmmm… I forgot to document that. Not fascinating, nor savory eye candy, but I’ll account for the extra storage area we decided to add into the mix to facilitate job site organization, especially when gentle autumn yields to blustery winter. Now, with many of our existing building materials inventoried we can begin to organize a repurposing strategy. That’s right, baked into our recipe for transforming this historic icehouse into a flex workspace, studio, and outdoor entertaining annex is an ambitious vision of creatively reusing and repurposing a decade and a half of leftover building materials, architectural salvage, and lumber grown, felled, milled, and cured on site. I’ll articulate my admittedly romantic vision for how all of this stuff will be reimagined into a charming addition to Rosslyn’s menagerie of old buildings.
For now, I’d like to celebrate the small victory of restoring Rosslyn’s historic outhouse to its metaphorical bones so that we can begin to prepare the interior for footings and crawlspace slab. Cheers to Tony and Pam for tackling the essential but unenviable task of cleaning [ice]house! Thank you.
It’s going to be an inspiring few months of creative reimaginination, collegial collaboration, and transformation as this handsome historic icehouse gets the loving attention of our rehabilitation dream team. I’ll be introducing the entire cast of characters in the weeks and months ahead, and you’ll have an opportunity to witness up close and personal an historic rehab effectively reinventing a 19th century utility building into a 21st century utility building. This unique collaboration aims not only to repurpose a no longer relevant purpose-built structure into a contemporaneously relevant, utilitarian addition to this remarkable property, but also to reimagine the discarded detritus, the sometimes-elegant-sometimes-eccentric artifacts, and homegrown lumber, the byproduct of reopening the long neglected meadows west of Rosslyn’s buildings. We’ll include you in the rehab to the extent viable, and we’ll enthusiastically consider all recommendations, advice, and ideas. Thanks in advance.
Consider that word parade fair warning for where I’m headed. From dovetails to team dynamics, in the twinkling of an eye. At least, that was my plan in revisiting a flood of field notes. Instead my errand evolved into a meandering meditation on admittedly abstract, fairly freestyle associations between durable joinery and team dynamics.
So, if you’re the A-to-Z git-r-done type, this is a good post for you to skip. Probably. Unless you’ve already burned a cord of calories and you’re surfing a dopamine-endorphin wave, in which case this might be just the departure from your daily that the doctor ordered. (The proverbial doctor, not the real doctor.)
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s rewind a few weeks to my sudden and unanticipated decampment from Santa Fe to Essex.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
Icehouse Intermission
Mission interrupted, more to the point. Icehouse rehab back on ice for a week or two while we regrouped and remapped and, eventually, rebooted. Upon approaching Rosslyn by water — steely skies and surreal snowflakes fluttering occasionally (as if the special effects team had been downsized), an almost empty ferry, a mostly hibernating hamlet hunkering lakeside — mixed emotions roiled within me.
There was a wellspring of anticipation upon returning to inspect firsthand the team’s progress on the icehouse rehab, boathouse gangway, and some painting and tiling maintenance inside our home. There was also the poignant pique of a visit precipitated not by plan or passion but by infelicitous necessity. (Source: Snow Falling on Homecoming)
Three weeks ago this past Wednesday. The following days were invigorating. Encouraging.
By in large, this impromptu return to Rosslyn has been profoundly positive…
[“On the Level“, a poem drafted during my visit, reflects] the reassurance that I’m encountering, the confidence and conviction that are flowing back in after ebbing…
[…]
On the level, there’s plenty of optimism, despite inevitable setbacks. (Source: On the Level)
The progress was grounding, familiarizing myself physically with what I’d been living virtually, witnessing in person the dramatic transformation of this long-held vision into tangible, well built, inviting spaces and floors and walls and stairs and windows and doors. The volumes and the vessel that contains them, defines them, that had been gestating for almost two decades, was at last becoming believable due to the collaboration and teamwork of many.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
A furtive foray into the curious coalescence of still tender fractures and ruptures that drew me back to Rosslyn (and that continue to disclose themselves each day of my stay, reminders of quaking in recent weeks) but also the durable bonds and the abiding beauty that hold it all together. (Source: Bowtie & Broken Memento)
While it is indeed Rosslyn’s abiding beauty that beckoned us to this property in the first place and her abiding beauty that has buoyed us through years of historic rehabilitation (and personal rehab!), there are times when the border between broken and unbroken blurs and faultiness become fractures. In such cases it is the durable bonds that prevail, that steady the proverbial ship, that hold it all together.
Rarely, I find, does the journey tidily delineate between clear victories and clear setbacks. Ours is a nonbinary and highly subjective adventure, and this midwinter, mid-project hiatus is no exception. Disheartening and challenging, yes, but also an opportunity to acknowledge and to celebrate accomplishment, a notable benchmark on the quest to reinvent a 19th century utility building as a 21st century lifestyle hub on a par with Rosslyn’s gracious home, waterfront, and generous grounds.
In short, there was — and there is — far more to fête than to lament at this juncture.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
Back to Work & Field Notes
In what’s become a familiar pattern, today’s post was an orphaned draft, initiated as field notes during my recent Essex sojourn, and then adapted into a readout for the team to catalyze our onsite meetings into an actionable scope of work. That part happened. Practical. Necessary. Timely. Now, with the benefit of sufficient remove (for tempering tone and shifting perspective) I’m revisiting those field notes from a more meditative perspective. And yes, my reflection has been fueled in no small part by an obsession with joinery.
Before I go there, guiding you into the mesmerizing maze of my imagination (bread crumbs advised), let’s ground this soon-to-be-ungrounded stream of conscious in the days we spent together as a team. Here are a few excerpts recapping my extended site visit.
We met as a big group and as multiple smaller groups over more than a week. Much was rehashed, brainstormed, problematized, and decided during these encounters, so I’d like to follow up with a readout from our main meeting as well as some of the items that came out independently in my one-on-one followups. Please understand that some of what I’m including may feel like micromanaging or second-guessing skills, expertise, experience, etc. Please accept my apologies in advance, and understand that neither are among my objectives. However the last month has illustrated the downside to having direction and decision-making silo’ed up. By “flattening” the team, I am hoping to shift the focus toward a more collegial, more ensemble oriented approach. We have ample resources in our team (an almost embarrassing abundance of skill, passion, and work ethic!), and I want to make sure that everyone has an opportunity to contribute, to catch problems before they materialize, to learn from one another, and to avoid the bottlenecks and logjams that we can’t afford at this halfway point.
We will continue to rely on Pam, Peter, and Eric as the three leads or “co-captains” with the objective of streamlining on-site decision-making and progress. But I strongly encourage everyone to study the plans, to ask questions, to make suggestions, and to contribute to the collaborative success of the icehouse rehabilitation as we cartwheel toward the finish line.
Although we covered an expansive scope of work during our meetings, I gathered the gist into a detailed outline for everyone to review, edit, and augment prior to our team meeting the following week. In addition to onboarding everyone as a contributing and valuable member of the team while reaffirming a commitment to transparency as we move forward, I also hope to encourage the sort of cross pollination that has consistently defined the high point of this and previous projects.
Our follow-up team meeting fleshed out the scope of work and cemented the near term benchmarks and timeline. We will be able to revisit weekly with an eye to efficient project management, clear expectations, and an emphasis on incubating the sort of collaborative environment that yields the best results and ensures the most enthusiastic comradely. Goals set. Updates as we advance upon these goals.
So that sets the stage in a dry, rearview mirror sort of way.
What it overlooks is the morale, outlook ,and commitment of everyone with whom I met. Shuffling the team and shifting responsibilities midstream is unsettling and disruptive at best. The way this team came together, processed the change, stepped up to new responsibilities, and immediately, resolutely refocused on the new map and timelines was astounding. Confident and optimistic, proud of their accomplishments heretofore, eager to restore forward motion, and laser focused on the tight timeline, elevated expectation, and bountiful challenges. Unwavering. And hopeful that the full team might be reconstituted in the home stretch to finish up strong together, and to collectively commemorate their accomplishments come June.
And this is part of what takes me to the woodworking, and specifically joinery, as a metaphor. Heck, it’s not even just the sorts of joining and conjunction that are foundational to joinery and even carpentry. It’s the millennia old art and artisanry committed to joining, conjoining, and even mending that fascinates me. I’ve waxed on aplenty about wab-sabi, so I’ll sidestep a tangential deep dive now (ditto for Kintsugi.) A tidy touchstone will suffice.
Wabi-sabi (侘寂) is a world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of appreciating beauty that is “imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete” in nature. (Source: Wikipedia)
Joining, conjoining, and reconjoining. No false disguise, no pretense, no faux facade. Bringing together. Bringing back together. I’m clearly still ill equipped to wordsmith my ideas into articulate or persuasive prose. But I’m working on it. And I’m hurling this half-baked post into the world with the unrestrained wish that it will settle on fertile soil, that it will germinate, and that I will be able to observe and learn how to communicate what it is that I’m discovering, this groundswell of insight that I’m experiencing without yet fully comprehending what it is. Bear with me, and I’ll do my best to interpret the lessons as they are learned.
In the mean time, I will draw in two compelling perspectives that may well shed some light.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
Joinery as Metaphor
Allow me a moment to weave in a consideration that deftly approaches the idea of woodworking as metaphor.
I am building a file cabinet for my office. It strikes me an apt metaphor for what we do as teachers in the classroom. I begin with a vision, followed by making a clearly developed plan. I gather the materials I will need – examining them for grain, quality, and fit. Each piece is cut just over the requisite length. I use a variety of joinery techniques to assemble the parts. The finished piece begins to take form. From the rough construction, wood is slowly and strategically removed, rounding edges and corners, sanding rough edges and surfaces, slowly revealing the finished shape. I stand back to see what continues to require attention. Final details are attended. Stain is gently rubbed in; varnish is brushed on – rubbed smooth between coats. I stand back and smile, satisfied with a pleasing, useful piece of furniture. — Bill Lindquist, January 3, 2012 (Source: The Purple Crayon)
Teaching. Yes. And team building. Team rebuilding.
Perhaps the following is only tangentially related, though it feels germane.
But I know full well that many woodworkers don’t want to hear about philosophy. What practical value can there possibly be in sitting around thinking about work? Isn’t it better just to roll up your sleeves and get to it?
I believe that this temptation to leave our brains at the door of the shop is rooted in a fundamental misunderstanding of human nature that separates our thinking from our doing…
We are whole beings, and although we have inner and outer aspects (mind/soul and body), we are essentially unities, not dualities… you cannot separate your mind from your body. You can’t put your thoughts and beliefs in one category and your practices in another.
So, why so much thinking and theory from a woodworking publication? Because, reader, you have a mind inextricably connected to those hands. And I am convinced that if we want our work to reflect the fullness of who we are, the why will be just as important as the how. — Joshua A. Klein, September 28, 2021 (Source: What’s With This Woodworking Philosophy Stuff? – Mortise & Tenon Magazine)
Absolutely. (And, as an aside, this reminds me that I’ve been ignoring another orphaned draft about Rosslyn’s 5w’s. Back on the punch list!)
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
At present I’m endeavoring to unweave our recent Rosslyn narrative just enough to re-braid the threads that anew, mending the challenges that have arisen, as if braiding a bridge over troubled water… (Or a bridge graft at the base of a partially girdled tree in Rosslyn’s orchard… Yikes! Mixed metaphors. And so long as I’m hoarding metaphors, what about kintsugi?)
Kintsugi is an ancient Japanese art in which broken pottery is mended with glue and gold honoring and highlighting the cracks rather than hiding them. The belief is the pottery is stronger and more valuable after the breakage and mending. Kintsugi is a powerful metaphor and physical art practice to explore layers of meaning of broken, to look at the pieces in new ways, and notice the ‘glue’ in our lives that assist us to mend, navigate challenging times and keep on going. — Kristin Pedemonti (Source: Mending What’s Broken | Steer Your Story)
The writhing winds are pulling my mind hither and yon, and I find myself too, too deep into this meandering meditation to abandon it. If I’ve lost you, I apologize. Know that we are lost together. But as fellow sojourners we are not idle, waiting for the illumination of morning. Perhaps we’ll stumble upon or quarry in the darkness.
In closing, and I promise you I am, allow me to apologize for this untethered and unedited runaway. More soon, I hope, on mortise and tenons and dovetails, joyful joinery, rejoinery and durable bonds. My imagination is conjuring an intricate scarf joint that conjoins by gathering, by honoring, by encouraging, a meticulously crafted union where stresses are distributed in all directions and resilient when forces challenge. My imagination is ringing with the melody of strengthen, even repairing a strained or failing joint. Join, conjoin, reconjoin…