structure. Hand-hewn timbers, morticed and pinned together, take the
place of riveted steel beams. Since a timber frame is subject to rot,
either dry or damp, one of the first places to look for unsoundness is
the sills (the beams which rest on the foundation and into which are
set floor joists, corner posts, and other main uprights). It is a
simple matter to give them the jack-knife test at intervals of two or
three feet. Stick the blade in as far as possible. Then try to turn it
around. With a sound beam this cannot be done. If there is dry rot,
the beam will often crumble under a slight pressure of the fingers.
Go over the sills on the north side of the building first. Here there
is less sunlight and snow remains longer. Consequently decay from
excessive moisture is not unusual. Roof rafters and plate beams (the
long timbers on which the lower ends of the rafters rest) should also
be knife-tested since long neglected leaking roofs eventually result
in their decay. Unsound corner posts and other uprights connecting
sills and plate beams are harder to detect since they are concealed
between the outside boarding and interior plaster. Note the walls
themselves and the corner boards extending vertically from foundation
to eaves. If a corner of the house is enough out of plumb to be
visible to the eye, or if the corner boards are loose, examine further
as it may indicate decay beneath.
With brick or stone houses, the walls themselves carry the weight of
the roof and so have no vertical timbers. If the walls are out of
plumb it means that the foundations are either gone or are in need of
major repair. Whether a house is of brick, stone or wood, there is one
further place for knife testing--the ground floor joists. Cellar
dampness may have taken its toll.
The fact that a sill, joist or other timber is unsound does not mean
that the house is beyond repair. Many old houses with all their sills
gone and some other principal beams no longer serviceable have been
restored, but the necessity of such steps ought to be realized in
advance and the cost taken into consideration. It is far from pleasant
to discover that one has unwittingly bought the bill of expense this
type of replacement means. "Let the buyer beware" generally rules in
the selling of old places, and the purchase of a knife and an hour or
two of poking its point into the principal timbers may save time and
money later.
"The next time I buy an old house to put a new frame into, you'll know
it," was the heartfelt declaration of a man who left his knife at home
when he went house hunting. "The owner and the agent knew the sills
and beams were rotten but didn't think it necessary to mention the
fact. What I didn't see wouldn't hurt me until after I had bought the
place and begun repairs. Then I learned plenty about decayed timbers
and the cost of replacing them."
After the timber frame, consider the exterior. The foundation will
probably need some "pointing-up," that is, replacement of mortar in
the joints or cracks. The question is, how much? Will it have to be a
complete job? Has frost worked such havoc that some sections must be
re-laid?
If the cellar indicates standing water during heavy rains, drainage
must be provided. Notice whether any cellar windows have been closed.
Countrymen are prone to do this as a cheap and easy method when the
framework gets beyond repair. Replacing stoned-up windows is not
expensive or difficult but just one more thing which must be done.
Notice the extent of the cellar. Old builders sometimes did only a
partial job of excavation because of economy. Such a cellar was ample
for storing root crops, preserves, and hard cider in the days before
furnaces. It may be wise to complete the work of excavating. Do not
expect to find cellars under wings and sheds. It was never the
practice. If they are to be converted to uses for which excavation is
desirable, this is another item for the adding machine.
With the foundation and its needed repairs noted, begin appraising the
condition of the walls and roof. Sometimes a shingle roof will be
found in good order or at most have one or two minor leaks which can
be repaired. More often an entire new roof is needed and, in extreme
cases, new boarding beneath. As with sills, roofs sloping to the north
and east are more apt to be out of repair and for the same reasons.
If door and window frames are so loose that they can be lifted out of
the side walls, the situation is serious. Putty and paint are of no
avail. Rebuilding them is essential. It is extravagant business trying
to heat a house with wind whistling in around doors and windows.
If the fabric of the side walls is of shingle, clapboard, or other
types of wood, is the material sound enough to warrant repainting or
must it be renewed? The object of paint is to close the small cracks
and preserve the wood. An old house that has gone many years without
painting will absorb much more than a new one, but it is surprising
what can be accomplished with two or three coats of paint on siding so
weathered as to seem worthless. Besides, a new exterior robs an old
house of some of its charm, so preserve the old if possible,
architects, carpenters, and contractors to the contrary.
Where walls are of stone or brick, the mortar of the joints has
probably so disintegrated under wind and rain that repointing is
indicated. Also, frosts may have heaved individual stones or
disintegrated bricks so they must be reset. Expect this in places
where down-spouts have leaked for years. If the walls have settled
badly, lintels or sills of doors and window openings may be cracked
and need renewing. Sometimes an old house has exterior walls of
plaster. These are both picturesque and rare. Patch cracks and spots
where it has come loose from the lath. Old plaster has a texture and
patina that modern stucco cannot simulate, so preserve it if possible.
Indoors, there are many things to be observed and appraised but
fireplaces come first. A country home without facilities for open
fires is as uninviting as one without trees and flowers. Expect to
find the fireplaces disused and closed with fireboards or bricks.
Sometimes the mantels have been removed and new flooring laid over the
hearthstones. Some detective work around the logical locations will
tell whether fireplaces have been torn out or just concealed. If
mantels are missing, look for them in the attic or on the rafters of a
shed. More than one fine old mantel has been rescued from such a
hiding place. We know of one fireplace complete with crane and iron
cooking utensils that reposed for fifty years or more behind an
unsuspected opening covered with lath and plaster.
Where original fireplaces have been torn out and chimneys intended
only to serve stoves put in place, two courses are open. The more
costly is rebuilding chimney and fireplaces according to indications
of original dimensions. The alternative is a Franklin stove, a
combination of stove and fireplace, which can be installed and
connected to the existing chimney at a very moderate expense.
Incidentally, the chimneys of an old house should be examined
carefully. Built in the days before separate flues and flue tiles,
their mortar may have lost its binding strength and so a smoke test is
advisable. Close all fireplaces except one and start a lively fire in
it. When it is well under way, toss on some scraps of roofing paper.
Then cover the top of the chimney. If there are any fissures in the
chimney, your eyes and nose will leave you in no doubt. You cannot
mistake the pungent odor of burning tar and its bluish smoke is easy
to see. Trace these to the points where they leak from the chimney and
mark the spots. Complete examination will tell whether repointing will
suffice or whether rebuilding is necessary.
The condition of the plaster on walls and ceilings of rooms can be
easily appraised. It is reasonable to expect cracks and that some of
it will be so loose as to need replacing. Removing it all and starting
afresh, however, is only advisable where a house has reached about the
last stages of disrepair.
Partitions of even the simplest feather-board paneling should be
preserved as well as interior trim, doors, and flooring. The same
applies to old hardware, as a house with all original wrought-iron
hinges, latches, and locks is both rare and valuable. Notice whether
the floors are of old wide boards laid random width and held in place
by wrought-iron nails. In houses antedating 1800, the floors in
certain localities were of hardwood. Sometimes several varieties were
used indiscriminately. With all their irregularities, they become a
very pleasing feature when well scrubbed and oiled or waxed. Like
fireplaces, they are sometimes concealed but it is an easy matter to
remove the new flooring.
The soundness and safety of stairways can only be determined by direct
inspection. If treads move beneath the feet, additional nailing is
needed and possibly new supports. Step easily on those leading to the
cellar. They are often somewhat rotten and may collapse.
If window glass is of the old, wavy, off-color sort, full of the
bubbles, sand pits, and creases that characterized its production in
early days, make sure that such panes are not discarded. Workmen view
them with complete scorn and will cast them aside if not put under
stern injunctions. "I never found that it kept out the cold any better
than a good new piece," snorted one disgustedly when we suggested that
he putty a fine "bull's eye" pane with a slight crack.
Sometimes part of the interior trim will have been replaced by modern
substitutes, but a good carpenter working under an architect can match
that still remaining. Likewise, later additions not in keeping with
the original, such as porches, sheds, wings, and illogical partitions,
can be readily removed with little damage to the house itself.
As one goes about an old house it is well to be on the look out for
signs of vermin, both animal and insect. With the former, traps and
prepared bait will suffice. The latter require the services of an
exterminator or some one skilled in the use of hydrocyanic acid gas.
Such insects go deep into the cracks of woodwork and beams. Ordinary
fumigating will not eradicate them. A single session with this deadly
gas, however, will rid the house both of these pests and their eggs.
The things that may be the matter with an old house, as enumerated
here, may sound very forbidding but circumstances alter cases. It is
doubtful if any one structure will be afflicted with all these ills of
decay and neglect. In our own house hunting we saw many that were
sound enough so that, with the addition of modern conveniences and a
good cleaning, they were livable. In fact, there is nothing equal to
getting thoroughly acquainted with a house before radical changes are
made. Live in the place six months or a year and then you will know
better just what alterations or additions are wise.
In northern New England there is a delightful country home that has
been renovated with great skill and charm. The reason behind it is
that the owners went for many years with as few repairs as possible.
Then came a large and unexpected inheritance. There was money enough
to rebuild completely but relatively few major changes were made.
"Most of the expenditure was for restorations," the owner stated.
"Once we day-dreamed of all kinds of changes but when the time came we
knew most of them were impractical and would add neither to our
comfort nor our convenience."
The most important thing about any house is, does it please you
architecturally and is its general plan suited to your needs? If it
seems to be well enough preserved so that renovation appears to be
practical, turn to an architect with the understanding that, if you
buy, he will be retained. He will then be willing to give the house an
expert inspection and even submit tentative sketches of advantageous
changes. His report, if the venture is to be financially good, should
indicate that structurally the house is about one-half sound and
usable.
Of course if you have found a house dating from the 17th or 18th
century, you have something fairly rare and it is worth reclaiming
even though very extensive replacements are needed. In Fairfield,
Connecticut, for example, there is the Ogden House, built before 1710.
Its present owner paid $4,000 for it in what seemed to be ruinous
condition. Its renovation cost fully $12,000; but finished, this old
salt box house is so unusual that more than one buyer is ready and
waiting to pay double the amount spent.
Arrangement of the rooms of an old house, and how they will fit the
requirements of the prospective purchaser, should be given more than
passing thought. Most people when they begin looking at places have
large ideas about moving partitions, cutting new windows, and changing
the location of doorways. These can be done but they are relatively
expensive and if carried to excess rob the place of all character.
Even the simplest of old houses has definite balance in its design
and arrangement of rooms. So think well before tearing out partitions
indiscriminately or moving doorways and cutting windows.
In fact, if some old house seems to you to call for drastic
reconstruction, you would do better to let it alone and look for one
that more nearly fits your mental picture. Buying a house you do not
really like is as foolish as marrying with the same reservation. Some
hardy people go through life so mated but more get a divorce. So it
will be with the house. After a season of dislike, divorce by sale
will be the end. If it pleases you from the start, however, you and it
will develop a mutual affection as the years go by and it will become
the old home in more ways than one.
NEW SITES FOR OLD HOUSES
[Illustration]
_CHAPTER VII_
NEW SITES FOR OLD HOUSES
Substantial houses built by old craftsmen who knew how to achieve
beauty by restraint lined the straggling single street of a forgotten
farming town. Despite weatherbeaten clapboards and sagging roofs, the
fine ornamental detail of doorways and window frames assured similar
niceties within.
"What good are they," snorted practical grandfather. "If they were
where people had adequate incomes it would be different. But here!
Once this was a prosperous town. Men made money breeding merino sheep.
Now the town's dead and its houses falling apart. Better tear them
down to save taxes."
Twenty-five years ago many substantial old houses were doomed to die
with their towns. Today, people who want an old house but cannot find
it where they wish to live have learned that it is practical,
financially and otherwise, to transplant an old structure to a new
location. Once this was the sport of eccentric millionaires or of
amply endowed museums. Now it is done for people of average incomes.
The expense will about equal that of building a new house of the same
cubical content and architectural detail. Sometimes it can be
accomplished at a slight saving. But whether the cost is equal, a
little higher, or somewhat less, the great advantages of a
transplanted house are a certain mellowness of age and that charm of
individuality which only old structures possess.
For those who want an old house on a site of their own choosing, there
are now men who deal in old buildings ready for removal. Just as
pickers comb the back-country for antiques, a related group search for
untenanted old houses. These men are a cross between practical
builders and antique dealers. They know Early American domestic
architecture and experience has taught them the point beyond which
salvage is impossible. Also they are experts in dismembering such
houses so they can be re-erected.
Tearing down an old house is easy enough, but to do it so that it can
be rebuilt is a trade in itself. From removing paneling and interior
trim to taking apart the hewn timber frame requires care and
understanding. Too much brute strength will split boards that should
be saved. Similarly, it is disastrous if mortice and tenon joints are
sawed apart. Such are the short cuts of ignorance to be expected of
ordinary carpenters and handy men. And when the old house is on the
ground they will display exasperating unconcern regarding what goes
where and how to put the structure back together. The most complicated
jig-saw puzzle is simplicity itself compared with an Early American
house taken apart without predetermined marking and numbering.
Having learned this by bitter experience, these experts have evolved
marking systems that prevent confusion and follow them rigidly.
Likewise, since old house lumber when taken apart and stored warps and
splits so badly that it can only be used again with difficulty, they
leave their houses standing wherever possible until sold. They are far
from impressive in this state and it takes both imagination and
enthusiasm to inspect the assortment offered. Usually the roof and
possibly one or two of the sides will be covered with prosaic roofing
paper. The doors and windows will be securely boarded with coarse
lumber.
The depredations of nature lovers who uproot shrubbery and rend such
flowering trees as dogwood are as nothing when an amateur antiquarian
finds an early 18th century house unoccupied. Such enthusiasts steal
and wreck like Huns. Nothing is safe from them. Door knockers, H and L
hinges, fireplace cranes, wavy old window glass, whole sections of
paneling and even hearthstones are wrenched from place with
light-hearted abandon. What they don't make away with, they generally
ruin. One visit from such a relic hunter may leave an old house a
shambles. How otherwise upright people with a modicum of interest in
antiques will glory in looting old houses is truly remarkable. We knew
one whose pride was a collection of fireplace cranes so filched.
Knowing this, the old house dealer, immediately he has bought a
structure, makes it as weather-tight and marauder-proof as possible.
Sagging floors and weak stairways are braced, as are fireplaces
injured by dampness and frosts. Paneled partitions are stripped of
layers of disguising wall paper. Any efforts to modernize that hide
original conditions are torn out and the house cleared of the rubbish
left by its last tenant. Even then such a house is not overly
attractive to particular housekeepers.
To offset this, the old house dealer first shows one or more albums of
pictures of the houses he has for sale. These contain complete
snap-shots inside and out, together with plans and dimensions. If he
is wise, he also has simple typed statements, giving all the data he
has been able to gather concerning each house, approximately when it
was built, its connection with local historical events, and, if
possible, the names of prominent personages who dwelt in it or were
guests there. Knowing that buyers are much impressed by such facts, he
often makes a careful search of recorded deeds and books of local
history for those few interesting facts that he may use
advantageously. For instance, to be able to say that Lafayette, on his
extensive old-age visit to the United States, was entertained in a
house may be just the right romantic touch that will close the deal.
With such an old house, the dealer generally quotes a price for it
dismembered and ready to be moved to its new site. Since the cost of
transportation varies with the distance, the trucking charge is
customarily given as a separate item. In general, the dealer will
undertake delivery at a lower figure than any one else. Also, such a
dealer or an associated contractor will set a sum at which he will
re-erect the structure on the new site. Since he is accustomed to
working with old materials and knows just what problems he faces, his
price will be lower than the combination of the cost of the old house
and the price set for its rebuilding by a contractor unfamiliar with
such work. The latter, to protect himself from unforeseen
contingencies, must naturally add a proportionately large sum to his
estimated cost.
The exact cost of an old house re-erected on a new site cannot be
given offhand. There are too many elements to be considered. How
extensive are the changes, how many baths, what type of heating
system, are only a few. All are important factors that must be
determined before the final figure can be set. So, the prospective
buyer must have patience and understanding. Also, he should have his
architect prepare plans for the work with just as much thoroughness as
if it were a new building. To the layman it may all seem very
complicated but to an architect who knows his old houses, it is no
more difficult than new work. He begins by making a careful set of
measured drawings of the old house as it stands. He examines the
fabric to determine what sills, beams and other parts are unsound and
must be replaced. He takes as many photographs of details of the
construction, both inside and out, as seem expedient and labels the
prints explicitly so that they relate directly to his plans. Later,
when rebuilding is under way these snap-shots will refresh his memory
and make it easier to explain some special feature or unique
construction to workmen who never saw the house before.
Dismembering houses for re-erection is accomplished by two methods.
The more common is taking them apart board by board and timber by
timber, marking each piece by a system of numbers and colors so that
it can be returned to its proper place. The other is called "flaking."
Here roof, side walls, and partitions are cut into large panels and
numbered and marked in colors. At the new site they are put in place
much as a portable bungalow is assembled.
With either method, plans prepared by the architect are of prime
importance. One set of his blue prints is thoroughly annotated with
numbers and colored marks. This becomes the working key, the solution
to the rebuilding puzzle. Also, the plans serve as the basis for
rearrangement of rooms, shifting of partitions, and the introduction
of plumbing, heating, and electricity. Invariably an old house has one
or more tucked-up rooms that under present-day conditions can wisely
be eliminated and the space added to adjoining ones.
A favorite arrangement with old New England farmhouses was the parlor
bedroom, located, as the name indicates, on the ground floor and
connected by a doorway with that room of ceremony and funerals.
Although it was often little larger than a double bed, it was the
master bedroom of the period. Our ideas have changed and such a room
can wisely be eliminated. Again, there is the problem of space for
baths and closets. The former were, of course, unknown and the latter
woefully few when the house was young. Thus, with the bedroom floor,
architect and owner have before them a problem demanding skillful
contriving to devise locations for these two essentials.
When dismembering starts, the man doing it and the building
contractor, unless by a happy circumstance he is one and the same
person, must work together closely. The first thing is to remove
doors, window sash, and as much of the interior trim as possible,
along with all the hardware. Numbered and marked, these are stored in
some dry shed or barn. If feasible, they can best be left at the old
site until the reconstruction has progressed far enough so that they
may be put in place when delivered. All fireplaces are now examined
carefully to determine the exact angles of sides and backs. The
individual stones must also be numbered and keyed. Paint is applied,
that will not rub off as the stones are removed.
Now everything is ready for the dramatic tearing apart. With flaking,
the roof and walls are marked off in great squares related to the
timber framework beneath. Then it is only a matter of sharp saws,
muscle, and patience before the house has been reduced to panels,
loaded on trucks, and started toward the new location.