In early days the hall was the large formal room in which the main
business of the house was transacted. It played the part of court-room,
with the lord of the manor as judge. It was used for dining, living, and
for whatever entertainment the house afforded. The stairs were not a
part of it: they found a place as best they could. From the times of the
primitive ladder of the adobe dwelling to the days of the spiral
staircase carried up in the thickness of the wall, the stairway was
always a primitive affair, born of necessity, with little claim to
beauty.
With the Renaissance in Italy came the forerunner of the modern entrance
hall, with its accompanying stair. Considerations of comfort and beauty
began to be observed. The Italian staircase grew into a magnificent
affair, "L'escalier d'honneur," and often led only to the open galleries
and _salons de parade_ of the next floor. I think the finest staircases
in all the world are in the Genoese palaces. The grand staircase of the
Renaissance may still be seen in many fine Italian palaces, notably in
the Bargello in Florence. This staircase has been splendidly reproduced
by Mrs. Gardner in Fenway Court, her Italian palace in Boston. This
house is, by the way, the finest thing of its kind in America. Mrs.
Gardner has the same far-seeing interest in the furtherance of an
American appreciation of art as had the late Pierpont Morgan. She has
assembled a magnificent collection of objects of art, and she opens her
house to the public occasionally and to artists and designers
frequently, that they may have the advantage of studying the treasures.
To return to our staircases: In France the intermural, or spiral,
staircase was considered quite splendid enough for all human needs, and
in the finest châteaux of the French Renaissance one finds these
practical staircases. Possibly in those troublous times the French
architects planned for an aristocracy living under the influence of an
inherited tradition of treachery and violence, they felt more secure in
the isolation and ready command of a small, narrow staircase where one
man well nigh single-handed could keep an army at bay. A large wide
staircase of easy ascent might have meant many uneasy moments, with
plots without and treachery within.
Gradually, however, the old feudal entrance gave way to its
sub-divisions of guardroom, vestibule, and salon. England was last to
capitulate, and in the great Tudor houses still extant one finds the
entrance door opening directly into the Hall. Often in these English
houses there was a screen of very beautiful carved wood, behind which
was the staircase. Inigo Jones introduced the Palladian style into
England, and so brought in the many-storied central salon which served
as means of access to all the house. The old English halls and
staircases designed by Inigo Jones would be perfect for our more
elaborate American country houses. The severe beauty of English paneling
and the carving of newel-post and spindles are having a just revival.
The pendulum swings--and there is nothing new under the sun!
Wooden staircases with carved wooden balustrades were used oftenest in
England, while in the French châteaux marble stairs with wrought-iron
stair-rails are generally found. The perfection to which the art of iron
work may be carried is familiar to everyone who knows the fairy-like
iron work of Jean L'Amour in the Stanislas Palace at Nancy. This
staircase in the Hôtel de Ville is supreme. If you are ever in France
you should see it. It has been copied often by American architects.
Infinite thought and skill were brought to bear on all the iron work
door-handles, lanterns, and so forth. The artistic excellence of this
work has not been equaled since this period of the Eighteenth Century.
The greatest artists of that day did not think it in the least beneath
their dignity and talent to devote themselves to designing the knobs of
doors, the handles of commodes, the bronzes for the decorations of
fireplaces, the shaping of hinges and locks. They were careful of
details, and that is the secret of their supremacy. Nowadays, we may
find a house with a beautiful hall, but the chances are it is spoiled by
crudely designed fittings.
I have written somewhat at length of the magnificent staircases of older
countries and older times than our own, because somehow the subject is
one that cannot be considered apart from its beginnings. All our halls
and stairs, pretentious or not, have come to us from these superb
efforts of masterly workmen, and perhaps that is why we feel
instinctively that they must suggest a certain formality, and restraint.
This feeling is indirectly a tribute to the architects who gave us such
notable examples.
We do not, however, have to go abroad for historic examples of stately
halls and stairs. There are fine old houses scattered all through the
old thirteen states that cannot be surpassed for dignity and simplicity.
One of the best halls in America is that of "Westover," probably the
most famous house in Virginia. This old house was built in 1737 by
Colonel Byrd on the James River, where so many of the Colonial
aristocrats of Virginia made their homes. The plan of the hall is
suggestive of an old English manor house. The walls are beautifully
paneled from an old English plan. The turned balusters are
representative of the late Seventeenth or early Eighteenth Century. The
fine old Jacobean chairs and tables have weathered two centuries, and
are friendly to their new neighbors, Oriental rugs older than
themselves. The staircase has two landings, on the first of which
stands an old Grandfather's-clock, marking the beginning of a custom
that obtains to this day.
This hall is characteristic of American houses of the Colonial period,
and indeed of the average large country house of to-day, for the
straightaway hall, cutting the house squarely in two, is so much a part
of our architecture that we use it as a standard. It is to be found,
somewhat narrower and lower of ceiling, in New England farmhouses and in
Eastern city houses. The Southern house of ante-bellum days varied the
stair occasionally by patterning the magnificent winding staircases of
old England, but the long hall open at both ends, and the long stair,
with one or two landings, is characteristic of all old American houses.
The customary finish for these old halls was a landscape wall paper, a
painted wall broken into panels by molding, a high white wainscoting
with white plaster above, or possibly a gay figured paper of
questionable beauty. Mahogany furniture was characteristic of all these
halls--a grandfather's-clock, a turn-top table, a number of dignified
chairs, and a quaint old mirror. Sometimes there was a fireplace, but
oftener there were doors opening evenly into various rooms of the first
floor. These things are irreproachable to-day. Why did we have to go
through the period of the walnut hat-rack and shiny oak hall furniture,
only to return to our simplicities?
[Illustration: THE STAIRCASE IN THE BAYARD THAYER HOUSE]
When I planned the main hall of the Colony Club I determined to make it
very Colonial, very American, very inviting and comfortable, the sort
of hall you like to remember having seen in an old Virginia house. One
enters from the street into a narrow hall that soon broadens into a
spacious and lofty living-hall. The walls are, of course, white, the
paneled spaces being broken by quaint old Colonial mirrors and
appropriate lighting-fixtures. There is a great fireplace at one end of
the hall, with a deep, chintz-covered davenport before it. There are
also roomy chairs covered with the same delightful chintz, a green and
white glazed English chintz that is as serviceable as it is beautiful.
Besides the chintz-covered chairs, there are two old English chairs
covered with English needlework. These chairs are among the treasures of
the Club. There are several long mahogany tables, and many small tea
tables. The rugs are of a spring green--I can think of no better name
for it.
In modern English and American houses of the smaller class the staircase
is a part of an elongated entrance hall, and there is often no
vestibule. In many of the more important new houses the stairs are
divided from the entrance hall, so that one staircase will do for the
servants, family and all, and the privacy of the entrance hall will be
secured. In my own house in New York, you enter the square hall
directly, and the staircase is in a second hall. This entrance hall is a
real breathing-space, affording the visitor a few moments of rest and
calm after the crowded streets of the city. The hall is quite large,
with a color-plan of black and white and dark green. You will find a
description of this hall in another chapter. I have used this same plan
in many other city houses, with individual variations, of course. The
serene quality of such a hall is very valuable in the city. If you
introduced a lot of furniture the whole thing would be spoiled.
I used an old porcelain stove, creamy and iridescent in glaze, in such a
hall in an uptown house very similar to my own. The stove is very
beautiful in itself, but it was used for use as well as beauty. It
really holds a fire and furnishes an even heat. The stove was flanked by
two pedestals surmounted with baskets spilling over with fruits, carved
from wood and gilded and painted in polychrome. Everything in this hall
is arranged with precision of balance. The stove is flanked by two
pedestals. The niche that holds the stove and the corresponding niche on
the other wall, which holds a statue, are flanked by narrow panels
holding lighting-fixtures. The street wall is broken by doors and its
two flanking windows. The opposite wall has a large central panel
flanked by two glass doors, one leading to the stairway and the other to
a closet, beneath it. Everything is "paired," with resulting effect of
great formality and restraint. Very little furniture is required: A
table to hold cards and notes, two low benches, and a wrought iron stand
for umbrellas. The windows have curtains of Italian linen, coarse
homespun stuff that is very lovely with white walls and woodwork. There
are no pictures on the wall, but there are specially designed
lighting-fixtures in the small panels that frame the niches.
In several of the finer houses that have been built recently, notably
that of Mrs. O.H.P. Belmont, the staircase is enclosed, and is in no way
an architectural feature, merely a possible means of communication when
needed. This solution of the staircase problem has no doubt brought
about our modern luxury of elevators. In another fine private house
recently built the grand staircase only goes so far as the formal rooms
of the second floor, and a small iron staircase enclosed in the wall
leads to the intimate family rooms of the bedroom floor. The advantage
of this gain in space can easily be appreciated. All the room usually
taken up by the large wall of the staircase halls, and so forth, can be
thrown into the bedrooms upstairs.
The illustrations of the Bayard Thayer hall and staircase speak for
themselves. Here lighting-fixtures, locks, hinges, have been carefully
planned, so that the smallest part is worthy of the whole. This hall is
representative of the finer private houses that are being built in
America to-day. I had the pleasure of working with the architect and the
owners here, and so was able to fit the decorations and furnishings of
the hall to the house and to the requirements of the people who live in
it.
The present tendency of people who build small houses is to make a
living-room of the hall. I am not in favor of this. I think the hall
should be much more formal than the rest of the house. It is, after all,
of public access, not only to the living-rooms but to the street. The
servant who answers the front door must of necessity constantly traverse
it, so must anyone--the guest or tradesman--admitted to the house. The
furniture should be severe and architectural in design. A column or
pedestal surmounted with a statue, a fountain, an old chest to hold
carriage-rugs, a carved bench, a good table, a standing desk, may be
used in a large house. Nothing more is admissible. In a small house a
well-shaped table, a bench or so, possibly a wall clock, will be all
that is necessary. The wall should be plain in treatment. The stair
carpet should be plain in color. The floor should be bare, if in good
condition, with just a small rug for softness at the door. A tiled floor
is especially beautiful in a hall, if you can afford it.
If your house happens to have the hall and living-room combined, and no
vestibule, you can place a large screen near the entrance door and
obtain a little more privacy. A standing screen of wooden panels is
better than a folding screen, for the folding screen is rarely
well-built, and will be blown down by the draft of the open door. A
standing screen may be made by any carpenter, and painted or stained to
match the woodwork of the room. A straight bench or settle placed
against it will make the screened space seem more like a vestibule.
Another objection to the staircase leading from the living-room of a
small house is that such an arrangement makes it almost impossible to
heat the house properly in winter. I have seen so many bewildered people
whose spacious doorless downstairs rooms were a joy in summer, shivering
all winter long in a polar atmosphere. The stair well seems to suck all
the warmth from the living-room, and coal bills soar.
Above all, don't try to make your hall "pretty." Remember that a hall is
not a living-room, but a thoroughfare open and used by all the dwellers
in the house. Don't be afraid of your halls and stairs looking "cold."
It is a good idea to have one small space in your house where you can go
and sit down and be calm and cool! You can't keep the rest of the house
severe and cool looking, but here it is eminently appropriate and
sensible. The visitor who enters a white and green hall and gets an
effect of real reserve and coolness is all the more appreciative of the
warmth and intimacy of the living-rooms of the house.
After all, for simple American houses there is nothing better than a
straightaway staircase of broad and easy treads, with one or two
landings. There may be a broad landing with a window and window-seat, if
there is a real view, but the landing-seat that is built for no especial
purpose is worse than useless. It is not at all necessary to have the
stairs carpeted, if the treads are broad enough, and turned balusters
painted white with a mahogany hand rail are in scheme. Such a staircase
adds much to the home-quality of a house.
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