THEIR EARLY SHELTERS AND LATER DWELLINGS
There is a widespread misconception that the colonists on reaching
Massachusetts proceeded immediately to build log houses in which
to live. Historians have described these log houses as chinked
with moss and clay and as having earth floors, precisely the type
of house built on the frontier and in the logging camps at a much
later period. A well-known picture of Leyden Street, at Plymouth,
shows a double row of log houses reaching up the hillside, which
the Pilgrims are supposed to have constructed. In point of fact, no
contemporary evidence has been found that supports the present-day
theory. The early accounts of what took place in the days following
the settlement along the coast are full of interesting details
relating to day-by-day happenings but nowhere do we find allusion
to a log house such as modern historians assume existed at that
time. This unique form of construction, however, had been used in
Scandinavia since the Middle Ages and also in parts of Germany, but
never did it appear in England. It also is well established that the
North American Indians knew nothing of this method of construction,
even the Iroquois tribe who built a "long house," so-called.
The Swedes and Finns who settled in Delaware in 1638 introduced the
log house built of logs with notched ends, with which they were
familiar in their homeland. What more natural? Jasper Dankers and
Peter Sluyter, Dutch travelers, made a tour of the American colonies
in 1679-1680, and while passing through New Jersey, describe the
house of Jacob Hendricks, near the town of Burlington, as follows:
"The house, although not much larger than where we were the last
night, was somewhat better and tighter, being made according to
the Swedish mode, and as they usually build their houses here,
which are block-houses, being nothing less than entire trees, split
through the middle, or squared out of the rough, and placed in the
form of a square, upon each other, as high as they wish to have the
house; the ends of these timbers are let into each other, about a
foot from the ends, half of one into half of the other, the whole
structure is thus made without a nail or a spike. The ceiling
and roof do not exhibit much finer work, except amongst the most
careful people, who have the ceiling planked and a glass window.
The doors are wide enough, but very low, so that you have to stoop
in entering. These houses are quite tight and warm: but the chimney
is placed in a corner. My comrade and myself had some deer skins,
spread upon the floor to lie on, and we were, therefore, quite well
off and could get some rest."[10]
[10] _Memoirs of the Long Island Historical Society_, Vol. I.
These travelers also spent a night at a Quaker's house near where a
gristmill had been erected on a creek above the falls at what is now
Trenton.
"Here we had to lodge: and although we were too tired to eat, we had
to remain sitting upright the whole night, not being able to find
room enough to lie upon the ground. We had a fire, however, but the
dwellings are so wretchedly constructed, that if you are not close
to the fire, as almost to burn yourself, you cannot keep warm, for
the wind blows through them everywhere. Most of the English and many
others, have their houses made of nothing but clapboards, as they
call them there, in this manner: they first make a wooden frame, the
same as they do in Westphalia, but not so strong, they then split
the boards of clapboard, so that they are like cooper's pipe-staves,
except they are not bent. These are made very thin, with a large
knife, so that the thickest edge is about a little finger thick, and
the other is made sharp, like the edge of a knife. They are about
five or six feet long, and are nailed on the outside of the frame,
with the ends lapped over each other. They are not usually laid so
close together, as to prevent you from sticking a finger between
them, in consequence either of their not being well joined, or the
boards being crooked. When it is cold and windy, the best people
plaster them with clay. Such are most all the English houses in the
country."[11]
[11] _Memoirs of the Long Island Historical Society_, Vol. I.
The only type of log construction in use in New England in the early
days existed in garrison houses built as a protection against the
Indians. In every instance the logs were carefully hewed square,
to make a close fit against each other, and never notched at the
ends, sometimes halved at the corners of the structure, but usually
dove-tailed into each other at the ends in medieval military manner.
Several of these garrison houses still exist and although afterwards
used as dwellings, at first they were built as forts.
What happened at the Plymouth Colony after the _Mayflower_ came
to anchor? The wind blew very hard for two days and the next day,
Saturday, December 23, 1620, as many as could went ashore: "felled
and carried timber, to provide themselves stuff for building,"
and the following Monday "we went on shore, some to fell timber,
some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry; so no man rested all
that day."[12] Bradford writes "that they builte a forte with good
timber" which Isaac de Rasieres described in 1627 as "a large square
house, made of thick sawn planks, stayed with oak beams." The oldest
existing houses in the Plymouth Colony are built in the same manner
and some half dozen or more seventeenth-century plank houses may yet
be seen north of Boston. Moreover, when the ship _Fortune_ sailed
from Plymouth in the summer of 1621, the larger part of her lading
consisted of "clapboards and wainscott," showing clearly that the
colonists soon after landing had dug saw pits and produced boards in
quantity suitable for the construction of houses and for exportation.
[12] _Mourt's Relation_, Boston, 1841.
The first settlers in the Massachusetts Bay brought with them
mechanics of all kinds, well equipped with tools, and it is
altogether probable that these workmen plied their trades on this
side of the Atlantic exactly as they had been taught through long
centuries of apprenticeship in England. The houses of that early
period, still remaining, all resemble similar English structures.
Upon arrival, however, the need for shelter was imperative, and
all sorts of rude expedients were adopted. Deacon Bartholomew
Green, the printer of the _Boston News-Letter_, related that when
his father arrived at Boston in 1630, "for lack of housing he was
wont to find shelter at night in an empty cask," and during the
following winter many of the poorer sort still continued to live in
tents through lack of better housing. When Roger Clap arrived at
Charlestown in 1630 he "found some Wigwams and one House ... in the
meantime before they could build at Boston, they lived many of them
in tents and Wigwams."
John Winthrop, in his _Journal_, writes that "the poorer sort of
people (who lay long in tents) were much afflicted with scurvy and
many died, especially at Boston and Charlestown." He also makes
several references to English wigwams. In September, 1630, one
Fitch, of Watertown, had his wigwam burned down with all his goods
and two months later John Firman, also of Watertown, lost his
English wigwam.
Edward Johnson, in his _Wonder-Working Providence_, mentions the
rude shelters of the first settlers. "They kept off the short
showers from their lodgings, but the long rains penetrated through
to their disturbance in the night season, yet in those poor wigwams
they sang Psalms, praise and pray their God till they can provide
them homes which ordinarily was not wont to be with many till the
earth by the Lord's blessing brought forth bread to feed them, their
wives and little ones."
The Rev. Francis Higginson, in his _New-Englands Plantation_,
printed in 1630, describes the wigwams built by the Indians living
at Salem as "verie little and homely, but made with small poles
prick't into the ground and so bended and fastened at the tops and
on the side, they are matted with boughes and covered with sedge and
old mats." It seems likely that when the English built themselves
"English wigwams," they copied the small structures built by the
Indians, especially as mats suitable for covering might be obtained
from the Indians by barter, and old pieces of sailcloth doubtless
might be obtained from the shipping stores. It seems unlikely that
an Englishman living in one of these structures during the winter
season would be content to allow the smoke from his fire to find
its way out through a hole in the roof in the Indian fashion. It
is more likely that a fireplace, built of stones or bricks, would
be constructed at one end of an "English wigwam." A door in hewed
frame, with wooden hinges, probably was installed as a suitable
substitute for the Indian mat lifted upon entering. The floors in
these English wigwams undoubtedly would be covered with rushes or
straw, following the custom in English cottages at that time.
Edward Johnson, the town clerk of Woburn, writing in 1652, relates
of the first settlers that "after they have thus found out a place
of aboad, they burrow themselves in the Earth for their first
shelter under some Hill-side, casting the Earth aloft up on Timber:
they make a smoaky fire against the Earth at the highest side, and
thus these poore servants of Christ provide shelter for themselves,
their Wives and little ones."
Alonzo Lewis, the historian of Lynn, writing a century ago, states
that some of the first settlers in that town made shelters for
themselves and families by digging caves into the hillsides. On
the bank of the Connecticut River above Hartford, is the Loomis
Institute, on the grounds of which is the site where the men from
Dorchester, Mass., in 1635, constructed their first dwellings, which
were dug into the river bank. The bank itself composed three walls
of the shelter and the front was a framing of boards with a door and
a window. The roof was thatched with river sedge. The last of these
long abandoned dugouts was filled in as recently as 1926.
At Concord, Mass., the early settlers dug cellars in the earth which
they spanned with wooden spars and then covered with turf. A more
detailed description of such shelters is found in a report made in
1650, by the Secretary of the Province of New Netherlands:
"Those in New Netherlands and especially in New England who have no
means to build farmhouses at first, according to their wishes, dig
a square pit in the ground, cellar fashion, 6 or 7 feet deep, as
long and as broad as they think proper, case the earth inside with
wood all round the wall, and line the wood with bark of trees or
something else to prevent the caving in of the earth, floor this
cellar with plank and wainscott it overhead for a ceiling, raise a
roof of spars clear up and cover the spars with the bark or green
sods, so that they can live dry and warm in these houses with their
entire families for two, three or four years, it being understood
that partitions are run through those cellars which are adapted
to the size of the family. The wealthy and principal men of New
England, in the beginning of the Colonies, commenced their first
dwelling houses in this fashion."[13]
[13] _Documentary History of New York_ (_1850_), Vol. I.
The frequent references to the English wigwam seem to indicate
that some such temporary construction was usual among many of the
colonists at the outset. Settlers were living at Salem as early
as 1626 and Endecott, with a considerable immigration, arrived in
1628. Marblehead, just across the harbor, was settled early and yet
when John Goyt came there in 1637, he "first built a wigwam and
lived thar till he got a house."[14] The rude buildings also put
up by planters at Salem must have been looked upon at the time as
temporary structures for they had all disappeared before 1661.[15]
[14] _Essex Co. (Mass.) Quarterly Court Records_, Vol. VI, p. 363.
[15] _Essex County Deeds_, Book V, leaf 107.
When Governor Winthrop arrived at Charlestown in 1630 with the first
great emigration, he found a house or two and several wigwams--rude
shelters patterned after the huts built by the Indians--and until
houses could be erected in Boston many lived in tents and wigwams,
"their meeting-place being abroad under a Tree."
In the summer of 1623, Bradford mentions the "building of great
houses in pleasant situations," and when a fire broke out in
November of the following year it began in "a shed yt was joyned to
ye end of ye storehouse, which was wattled up with bowes." It will
be seen that this shed was not crudely built of logs or slabs but
that its walls were wattled and perhaps also daubed with clay, in
precisely the same manner with which these colonists were familiar
in their former homes across the sea. An original outer wall in the
old Fairbanks house at Dedham, Massachusetts, still has its "wattle
and daub" constructed in 1637.
Thomas Dudley writing to the Countess of Lincoln, in March, 1631,
relates: "Wee have ordered that noe man shall build his chimney
with wood nor cover his house with thatch, which was readily
assented unto, for that divers houses have been burned since our
arrival (the fire always beginning in the wooden chimneys) and some
English wigwams which have taken fire in the roofes with thatch or
boughs."[16] It was Dudley who was taken to task by the Governor in
May, 1632, "for bestowing so much cost on wainscotting his house and
otherwise adorning it," as it was not a good example for others in
the beginning of a plantation. Dudley replied that he had done it
for warmth and that it was but clapboards nailed to the walls. A few
months later this house caught fire "the hearth of the Hall chimney
burning all night upon the principal beam."
[16] _Force's Tracts_, Washington, 1838.
In 1631, John Winthrop entered in his _Journal_ that the chimney
of Mr. Sharp's house in Boston took fire "the splinters being not
clayed at the top" and from it the thatch caught fire and the house
was burnt down.
The first meetinghouse built in Salem had a "catted" chimney, that
is, the chimney was built with sticks laid cobhouse fashion and the
whole daubed with clay inside and out.
Thatch as a roof covering was in common use in the early days.
Notwithstanding the Great and General Court forbade its use, it
still persisted as necessity arose. At the outset, towns along the
coastline set aside certain parts of thatch banks in the marshes,
as a supply for thatching houses. Rye straw also was much used. The
roofs of these thatched houses were not boarded as the thatch was
fastened to slats. Dorchester built a meetinghouse in 1632 with a
thatched roof.
The earliest frame houses were covered with weather-boarding and
this before long was covered with clapboards. The walls inside were
sheathed up with boards moulded at the edges in an ornamental manner
and the intervening space was filled with clay and chopped straw,
and later with imperfect bricks. This was done for warmth, and was
known as "nogging," following the English practice. When roofs were
not thatched, they were covered with shingles split from the log by
means of a "frow" and afterwards hand-shaved. The window openings
were small and were closed by hinged casements, just as the houses
in England were equipped at that time. Generally, the casement sash
was wood, but sometimes iron was used, as was common in England.
The glass was usually diamond-shaped, set in lead "cames." Emigrants
to Massachusetts were instructed by the Company to bring ample
supplies of glass for windows, but the supply ran short and in the
poorer cottages and wigwams, oiled paper was in common use. This was
an excellent substitute and supplied a surprisingly large amount of
light.
A brickyard was in operation in Salem as early as 1629, and
everywhere along the coast clay was found and made up into bricks.
Chimneys were built upon a huge stone foundation. The brick work
began at the first floor level and the bricks were laid in puddled
clay up to about the ridge line where lime was used as the chimney
top became exposed to the weather.
It has been claimed and denied that bricks used in the construction
of certain old houses were brought from overseas. In general
the claims may be disregarded. It is certain, however, that the
Massachusetts Company at the outset sent over ten thousand bricks,
stowed in the ballast with five chauldrons of sea coals for the use
of the blacksmiths. At the same time came iron and steel, nails, red
lead, salt and sailcloth. Even fourteen hundred weight of plaster of
paris, appears in the list, priced at eighteen shillings per hundred
weight.
The home of the average New Englander in the late seventeenth
century was a wooden dwelling of two stories built around a brick
chimney containing large fireplaces. In Rhode Island and in parts
of Connecticut, where shale abounded, the chimney was built of
stone and not infrequently the house, in whole or at one end, was
also so constructed. The roofs of these houses were covered with
wooden shingles usually split from pine logs and shaved smooth by
hand on a shingle horse. The outside walls of the well made house
were covered with clapboards, also smoothed on the shingle horse.
For many years these clapboards were made from oak, but as this
wood has a tendency to warp and pull itself free from fastenings,
by the year 1700, its use for that purpose had very generally been
replaced by pine. Outbuildings and the poorer class of dwellings
were not covered with clapboards or only the part next the road, for
the New Englander believes in "putting his best foot forward." Such
buildings were covered with "weatherboards" or plain boarding that
lapped at the lower edge.
The windows in these houses were filled by casement sash containing
glass set in lead cames. The glass was usually diamond shaped, but
sometimes four by six inch lights were used. This glass was imported
from England and came packed in cribs, but much of it came in sheets
already leaded and was cut to size by "glaziers" upon demand. Early
in the eighteenth century sliding-sash windows were introduced,
probably about 1710, but it was a long time before existing
casements were entirely given up. One Saturday afternoon in July,
1714, lightning struck the house of Colonel Vetch in Boston. He had
bought the dwelling not long before and Judge Sewall records in his
diary that at the time of the storm "the Work of Transformation was
not finished" to make the building fit for the occupancy of Madam
Vetch. The lightning played various tricks with the house, doing
considerable damage, and among other details the Judge mentions
that it "lifted up the Sash Window and broke one of the squares" of
glass.[17] Colonel Vetch was presumably a man of substance for he
afterwards became Governor of Nova Scotia, and he is likely to have
"transformed" his recently purchased house into the latest fashion
of lighting.
[17] _Mass. Historical Society Colls._ (5th ser.), Vol. 7, p. 10.
On the other hand, Judge Sewall, the Chief Justice of the highest
court in the Province, had casements in his Boston house at a time,
ten years later, when his daughter Hannah died, for he records in
his _Diary_ that "Boston will not have her put into the Cellar [it
was in August when she died]; so she is only remov'd into the best
Room. And because the Casements were opened for Coolness, Boston
would watch all night." This entry in the ancient diary not only
preserves the fact that the Judge's house had casement windows,
but it also makes allusion to the old-time custom of watching with
the dead body and the interest that the town of Boston had in the
bereavement of the Judge.
In 1722, Benjamin Franklin in his Boston newspaper, was satirizing
the extravagancies of New England housewives in "new Glazing their
Houses with new fashion'd square Glass." Diamond glass had seen its
day, however, and forty years later "Windows set in lead, suitable
for Hot-Beds" were advertised in the newspapers, a sure sign of
discarded sash. On the other hand, a hardware shop was advertising
"sheet and diamond glass" as late as 1766, probably to meet the
demands for repairing old casements.
The exterior of these early houses was seldom painted, in fact it
was well into the nineteenth century before the outside of houses in
country towns were usually painted. A diarist who rode into Boston
in 1804 comments on the dingy appearance of the houses and the
general lack of paint and about the same time a Salem man met with
success in business, whereupon he painted his house with the result
that his associates rather sneeringly remarked: "Sam is feeling his
oats; he's begun to paint his house."
The paint first used on the exteriors of New England houses was
usually of a dark red color called, both then and now, "Indian red."
Red ochre was used and commonly was mixed with fish oil. The Indians
had "paint mines" where they had found red earth and doubtless these
"mines" were utilized, particularly in adjacent locations. One of
these paint mines was located near what is now Augusta, Maine, and
in that part of New England formerly existed, long before the coming
of the European, an Indian race that used this red earth so freely
that by ethnologists it has been termed the "red paint culture."
So runs the present-day tradition of Indian red in New England. In
point of fact, however, red earth was brought from the East Indies
long before the settlement of the American Colonies, hence the name
"India red," by which it was advertised in the Boston newspapers in
the mid-eighteenth century. In 1766, John Gore, "at his Shop at the
Sign of the Painter's Arms in Queen Street," Boston, advertised a
stock of oils, paints, brushes, etc., just imported from London. He
had linseed oil by the barrel or smaller quantity, boiled oil, nut
oil, turpentine oil and turpentine varnish. Among his white colors,
were Spanish white and French halk,--whatever that may be. Red was
a color that was in demand for he carried red head, Spanish brown,
India red, purple red, Venetian red, Vermillian, drop hake, carmine,
umber and rose pink. Under yellows, he listed King's yellow,
Princess yellow, Naples yellow, spruce yellow, stone yellow, English
ochre, Orpiment-pale and deep, Dutch pink and brown pink. The blues
were ultramarine, ultramarine ashes, Prussian blue of various sorts,
calcined smalt, strowing ditto, verditer blue and powder blue.
Gore also sold crayons in sets and canvas for portrait painting in
half-length cloths, kit-kat and three-quarters length. He carried
"Colours prepared for House and Ship Painting," best London crown
glass for pictures and "Water Colours ready prepared in Shells."[18]
[18] _Boston News-Letter_, Jan. 23, 1766.
Two years later he advertised chariot glasses, genteel
looking-glasses and Wilton carpets and also announced that he did
coach and carpet painting in the best and cheapest manner.
At how early a date was paint used on the exterior of a New England
house? Who can solve the problem? Undoubtedly it was on a house
owned by some merchant having a direct contact with England. It is
an established fact that the Andrews house, built in 1707-1710, in
the country town of Topsfield, Mass., was painted Indian red at the
time it was built, or soon after, but only on the trim--the window
frames, corner boards, etc. The clapboards and weather-boarding at
the easterly end, remained unpainted until long years after.
The inside finish of town houses owned by well-to-do people,
probably was painted at a comparatively early date, at least, one
or two rooms in a house. "A large Fashionable Dwelling-House" in
Boston, "about 1-1/4 miles from Charlestown ferry" was advertised to
be sold in 1734. It had eight "fire rooms"--that is, rooms with
fireplaces. The entries and two of the rooms were "beautifully
Wainscotted and laid in oil" and four were "handsomely Painted."
In 1753, George Tilley, a Boston shop keeper, advertised his house
for sale. It contained "eight rooms, seven of them fire-rooms,
with a Number of convenient Closets and a good Cellar, four of
the said Rooms is cornish'd, and the House is handsomely painted
throughout; one of the Rooms is painted Green, another Blue, one
Cedar and one Marble; the other four a Lead colour, the Garrets are
handsomely plaistered; the House has twenty Sash-Windows to it and
is pleasantly situated on Pleasant Street, near the Hay-Market."[19]
[19] _Boston News-Letter_, Sept. 13, 1753.
But such glory did not exist in other parts of the same town and
certainly not in the country. Rufus Choate, the lawyer, was born
in a house in Essex, Mass., built in 1725 by an ancestor who was
popularly called "Governor Choate." He was a man in comfortable
circumstances and built for himself a house of ten rooms having
good panelling in four of them. None of the finish on this house
was painted until well after 1825 or a century after it was built.
This paint has now been removed and the old white pine finish is
revealed in all its natural beauty of varying shades of reddish
brown, effectively contrasting with the whitewashed walls. Natural
wood finish, laid in oil, was quite the common thing in the ordinary
New England dwelling, until after the people had recovered from the
financial exhaustion of the Revolution.
The plastered walls were usually whitewashed which was quite in
keeping with the Puritan character that covered with limewash
the beautiful mural decorations of the English churches at the
time of the Commonwealth. Families of wealth covered their walls
with hangings brought from England. Peter Sergeant died in 1714,
possessed of a "suit of Imagery Tapestry hangings" in his cedar
room. This house was one of the finest in the town of Boston
and afterwards became the Province House,--the residence of the
Governors of the Province. Another room in this house was also
furnished with hangings. Arras hangings were advertised from time
to time in the Boston newspapers and in 1736, Boydell, the printer
of the _Boston Gazette_, advertised a house in which one chamber in
the first story was "hung with Scotch Tapestry, the other with Green
cheny." The large brick house of the late Isaac Gridley, situated
near Fort Hill, in Boston, was sold in 1771. It contained thirteen
rooms and three of the lower rooms were "genteelly furnished with
Tapestry Hangings."
A three-story house was built in Boston about 1715 by William
Clark, a wealthy merchant and member of the governor's council.
His death in 1742, was attributed by some, to the loss of forty
sail of vessels in the French War. In this house afterwards lived
Sir Henry Frankland, Collector of the Port, who fell in love with
Agnes Surriage, the beautiful sixteen-year-old maid-of-all-work at
the Fountain Inn in Marblehead. Her romantic story is well-known.
This house differed but little from the dozen or so of its type
to be found in Boston at the time, save in its rich and elaborate
decoration of the north parlor, at the right of the entrance hall.
Here, the walls were divided into panels by fluted pilasters
supporting an elaborate cornice, the whole heavily gilded, and each
of the panels was embellished with a landscape or other decoration
painted in oils. Painted arabesques and heraldic devices covered all
other flat surfaces and the floor was laid in a mosaic of various
colored woods. Every inch of the surface of this parlor was the
product of the imagination and skill of the painter, gilder or
carver. But while this magnificence actually existed in New England,
by no means was it typically representative of its culture or
artistic development. It merely exhibited the pride of wealth and
was largely the product of European craftsmen.
The heavy strap hinges on the doors of the earlier houses and
buildings were probably wrought by hand at the forge of the nearest
blacksmith, but most of the hardware and iron work was imported
from England. Before 1650 there was a slitting mill at the Saugus
Iron Works, but the principal product of this forge was cast iron
manufactures, such as pots and kettles. At a later date, Parliament,
at the instigation of the English manufacturers, prohibited by law
the setting up of slitting mills and trip hammers, and it naturally
followed that the manufactured iron and brass required by the
Colonies was brought overseas from Birmingham and Sheffield.
A word or two as to the varying types of house hardware may not be
amiss at this time. At the outset wooden hinges and heavy strap
hinges of wrought iron were in common use. These hinges were hung
on gudgeons and their points varied in design but the spear-shaped
point was most common. In the best houses, at an early date and
continuing until the beginning of the eighteenth century, might be
found the so-called "cock's head" hinge, an ornamental survival
from Roman times. The butterfly hinge was also in use at that
time--usually on cupboards and furniture doors. The =H= and =HL=
hinges came into use in New England in the early 1700's and lasted
until after the Revolution. These hinges were cut out of heavy sheet
iron and were made in factories in England. This type of hinge was
superseded by the cast-iron butt, still in use, which was invented
in England in 1775, and adopted very generally in the United States
at the close of the Revolution.
In some old houses that have been restored and in many modern
constructions done in the manner of the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries, the door hinges in painted rooms have been picked out in
black making them most conspicuous. This is a modern conceit--an
invention of the modern architect. It was not done in the old days,
a fact easily established by carefully scraping through the various
coats of paint on an old house. Our great-great-grandmothers had
no itching desire for contrasts of that sort. They knew nothing of
highboys, grandfather's clocks, low daddys, Lady Washington chairs,
courting mirrors, fiddle back chairs or donkey-eared spindle backs.
These names are inventions of collectors or antique dealers striving
for the picturesque. The highboy, it is true, antedates the others,
but in the early days this piece of furniture was called a high
chest of drawers and the lowboy was called a low chest. Recently
the common =HL= hinge has been described as the "Holy Land" hinge;
certainly not referring to the English colonies where there were
fully as many sinners as saints.
Wooden latches were used on both outside and inside doors in early
days and the wooden latch persisted in the back country until
comparatively recent times. The iron thumb latch was made by the
country blacksmith but more and more it came to be imported from
England. The earliest type has spear-point handles. The rounded end
comes in after 1700 and is common about 1750. The Norfolk latch,
in brass and iron, comes in after the Revolution and was replaced
by the common cast-iron thumb latch, invented by Blake in 1840. In
examining old hinges and all kinds of hardware always have in mind
that the machine-made pointed screw was not invented until 1846.
A feature of this hardware trade with England, which is of much
interest, is the catalogues that were sent over by the manufacturers
in Birmingham. About the year 1770 they began to send out drawings
of different pieces of hardware, tools, etc., and this soon
developed into sheets of engravings on copper which were bound into
books and sent to customers at a distance who then could visualize
the goods and order accordingly; size, list price and discount were
indicated. Seldom was there a title-page or even a label to indicate
a source, but the handmade paper bears its watermark and generally
the date when it was made. These catalogues are now difficult to
find and the Victoria and Albert Museum at South Kensington, esteems
them so highly that a descriptive catalogue of its collection has
been published. Probably the largest collection of these catalogues
in America is in the library of the Essex Institute at Salem.