USA > Connecticut > Tercentenary pamphlet series, v. 1 Connecticut and the British Government > Part 28
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Plaster appeared in Hartford, Wethersfield, and Wind- sor during the last quarter of the seventeenth century. It is probable that its introduction was gradual, and that the richest houses were plastered first. New Haven, due to its superior wealth, was in advance of other settle- ments in the use of plaster. As early as 164I a general court at New Haven established a schedule of prices, as follows: "Plastering, for drawing and carrying water,
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scaffolding, lathing, laying and finishing the plastering, provideing, and paying his laborer, haeving the lime, clay, sand, hayre, hay with materialls for scaffolding layd neare the place. By the yeard for seeling 4-ob, for the side walls, being whole or in great paines 4ª, betwixt the studs, the studs not measured, 5ª-ob. rendering betwixt the studs 2d."
We may assume that plaster was in use in Stamford in 1644, for, according to a court record of that year, an Indian struck a woman of the town with a lathing ham- mer.
Early lath were almost invariably of oak, and split out by hand. Sometimes thin sheets of sawn oak were split through at intervals with a hatchet, then spread or stretched out, and nailed to the studs in sections.
The early use of thatch has already been touched upon, and its failure to stand up under weather conditions in this country noted. No doubt, thatch was soon aban- doned, and split wooden shingles used instead. After hav- ing been split out, they were tapered with a draw shave. A recent restoration of the John Pierpont house in New Haven (1753) disclosed the fact that some split and hand- shaved shingles of oak were still in place on the roof, un- derneath several layers of other materials. White pine found greater favor as a material from which to make shingles, due, no doubt, to its easier working qualities and its remarkable durability.
Hand-shaved white pine shingles were also sparingly used as a wall covering for early houses, notably in Mil- ford and Stratford. Such shingles, laid with a wide ex- posure, were of great length, specimens still in place measuring three feet and over.
Clapboards came into use very early as a form of wall covering, and material of this form soon became the standard exterior finish for frame houses. Clapboards
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were of oak until a comparatively late date. They were split or "riven" from short sections of oak logs into stand- ard lengths. An early New Haven court set these lengths at four, five, and six feet. Owing to a radial plan of split- ting, the cleavage was in the plane of the medullary rays: consequently, each clapboard exhibited the characteristic markings of quartered oak.
These clapboards of riven oak were generally nailed di- rectly to the studs, as the use of frame sheathing was not early. The ends of adjoining clapboards necessarily met upon a vertical stud, and were bevelled and lapped in or- der to make the joint more nearly weatherproof. Early clapboards were generally of about the same width as those in use today, though some were wider.
Eventually, the use of white pine superseded that of oak as a material for the outside covering, because, where exposed to the weather, it was more durable than oak, and could be worked with greater ease.
Another common form of outside covering, not belong- ing to any particular period, is that known as weather- boarding. It consisted of white pine boards, generally about a foot in width, applied horizontally to the studs. The courses overlapped each other, in the fashion of clap- boards, though sometimes the lower edge of each course was fitted into the rabbeted upper edge of the course below. Frequently, houses are to be seen which have clap- boards on the front and ends, and weatherboarding on the rear. The writer recalls no instance of the use of weatherboarding on the front of a house.
The use of horizontal matched boarding as an exterior wall covering is very late. It is not to be found on houses built before 1800.
The windows of the earliest Connecticut houses were small, and for two reasons. In time of sudden Indian at-
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tacks, houses were the only refuge, and small windows made them more secure. Then too, glass was scarce and expensive, and difficult to replace if broken. Probably the poorer settlers found a substitute for it in the use of oiled paper, or even cloth. But in the beginning, those who could afford it imported glass from England. Such men as Wyllys, Davenport, and Eaton would not have been satisfied with any substitute.
Undoubtedly, the earliest windows were of casement type: that is, the sash were hinged at the side, to swing out. Such sash were glazed with diamond-shaped lights of glass, held in place by lead bars. In writing of the earliest houses, in his History of New Haven Colony, Lambert states, "The windows were of small diamond glass set in lead frames, and swung open each way on the outside." This would indicate that casement sash were sometimes used in pairs.
All of the early casement window frames which exist today, however, were made to accommodate single sash. A seventeenth-century window frame which may still be seen in the lean-to attic of the Lee house in East Lyme (1664) held a single sash, which must have been nineteen inches high by nineteen inches wide. A similar frame in the Shelley house, Madison, of approximately the same date, was built to accommodate a sash twenty inches high by eighteen and one-fourth inches wide. An early case- ment sash now preserved in the Hyland-Wildman house collection, in Guilford, still contains its diamond-shaped "quarrels" of glass, set in lead bars. This sash measures twenty-five and five-eighths inches high by fourteen and one-fourth inches wide.
We do not know definitely when casements were sup- planted by double-hung sash : probably this did not occur before 1725. We do know, however, that the earliest
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form of double-hung sash was, like casements, glazed with diamond-shaped lights set in lead. This form of glazing gave way to that with which we are familiar to- day, consisting of rectangular panes separated by wood muntins or sash bars.
Previous to the time when lath and plaster became the accepted materials for finishing interior wall surfaces, the use of wood wainscot for this purpose was universal. Wainscot consisted of wide boards of white pine or white- wood; generally, though not always, applied with vertical joints. These joints were invariably moulded, the com- monest form of wainscot displaying a flattened quarter- round on the edge of one board, with a bevel on the edge of its neighbor. Existing examples of wainscot show a great variety of moulded joints, some of them being of great beauty.
Later on, when the use of plaster began to creep in, wainscot was still used in kitchens, but a more elaborate form appeared on the fireplace walls of the front rooms. This was a system of panelling, composed of stiles and rails, with raised panels. Some of the new panelling was of great elegance, and, in the richer houses, became preten- tious and elaborate.
It is worthy of note that in connection with the earlier wainscot, structural members such as posts, girts, and summer beams were chamfered and left exposed. With the advent of panelling, however, such timbers were cased, and often finished with mouldings as well. Fur- thermore, the doors that occur in walls finished with wainscot were invariably of batten type, and made of the same material as the wainscot itself, whereas those in panelled rooms became of corresponding panelled form. The panelling of fireplace walls continued in high favor up to the latter part of the eighteenth century, when it
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eventually gave way to the familiar mantelpiece of Georgian form, set against plastered walls. Some of these mantels, particularly those of the Adam period of 1800- 1820, are of exceptional beauty, and display a wealth of remarkably delicate and intricately-wrought detail. Pre- vious to the post-Revolutionary period, when mantels began to appear, fireplace openings were generally fin- ished with heavy mouldings of bold projection, applied to the wainscot or panelling. Often called "roll," or, more properly, bolection mouldings, they were mitered at the corners to form a frame around the fireplace opening.
The corner cupboard, sometimes referred to in old rec- ords as the "bowfat," "boffet," or "buffit," was a feature that belonged almost exclusively to houses of central- chimney plan. Its position was well fixed, for it is found almost invariably in the "best room," or parlor, usually in the right-hand farther corner if we stand with the fire- place at our backs. Sometimes it occurs on the left hand instead, and in some rare instances either against the chimney wall, or as a part of the panelling system.
While the earlier and more primitive forms of corner cupboards lacked doors in the upper part, solid panelled doors below the counter shelf appear to be the rule in both early and late examples. Later, the use of a glazed door in the upper part became customary.
In the richer houses, we find the corner cupboard treated with a considerable degree of elaboration. Very often, fluted pilasters were used at the sides, and in some cases the semi-circular back of the upper part was fin- ished with a shell-like termination at the top, with carved ribs and flutes.
In houses of central-chimney plan, the stairs are to be found almost invariably at the rear of the small front en- try or "porch," against the chimney stack. In the earliest
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examples, the stairs were steep, the treads narrow, and the use of "winders," or diagonal steps at the turns, not uncommon. Houses of lean-to plan commonly have a back stairs in addition, at one end of the kitchen. The stairs to the cellar were generally placed beneath the main stairs, and led down from one of the front rooms.
Cellar stairs constructed either of stone or solid oak logs are an almost certain indication of seventeenth-cen- tury work. When made of logs of rectangular section, the ends were built into the masonry that enclosed them on either side. In some instances the steps were triangular in section, and made by cutting beams along their diago- nals. These triangular steps were fastened to heavy string pieces by means of oak pins.
Such construction, however, was never used for the stairs in the upper stories, which were built up of thin treads and risers in the modern fashion. Many ingenious methods were employed for supporting them and fasten- ing them together.
The front stairs of the earliest houses lacked handrails and balusters, simply being enclosed behind a thin parti- tion of wainscot sheathing. Oftener than not, there was a batten door at the bottom of the flight. As time pro- gressed, the enclosing wainscot was lowered in height, and a simple handrail framed into plain square newels introduced. Later, balusters were added. Their use began about 1700, the earliest forms being stumpy, with short, robust curves that were quite Jacobean in spirit. The heavily moulded box string, which covered the otherwise exposed ends of treads and risers, is characteristic of the balustraded stairs of central-chimney houses. From the earlier type of balusters, the development was toward those of greater height, with more graceful, flowing forms.
When the house plan developed from the central-chim-
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ney type into that of central-hall arrangement, the stairs naturally became of greater importance. Eventually, the angle of ascent grew less steep, the box string disap- peared, and stairs displayed a considerable degree of elaboration. In the finer houses of the last quarter of the eighteenth century, mahogany was sometimes used for handrails, and in a few cases for balusters as well. Such balusters were often of spiral or twisted form.
The inventiveness and genuine skill of the early Con- necticut craftsmen is reflected in the hardware that they wrought, fully as much as in any other item of the house construction. Hughes' History of East Haven states that "No attempt was made to manufacture anything but what was done by hand on the anvil under the strokes of the smith." That these smiths were fine craftsmen is just as evident as that they were men of good taste.
Hinges, door latches, bolts, and various other items of hardware were generally of forged wrought iron. Latch handles of brass do occur, but they are not common. Brass door knockers are more frequently met with than those of iron, but it is probable that the former were, for the most part, English importations.
The excellent state of preservation in which exterior door latches and other items exist today, often after nearly two centuries of unprotected exposure to the ele- ments, bears testimony to the remarkable purity of the iron from which they were forged.
Frequent references to the early manufacture of iron from the ore may be found in the Court Records of New Haven. Under the date of March 16, 1654 we read: "Mr. Goodyeare desired, if they knew of any Ironstone aboute this Towne, they would make it knowne, that now Mr. Winthrop is here he may be gotten to judge of it, and if it prove right, and that an Iron mill might be
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set up here it would be a great advantage to the Towne." The subject again appears under date of November 29, 1655, with a record of the town's vote "to give a full lib- ertie for the Ironworkes to goe on & also for wood, water, Iron-ston, oare, shells for lime, or whatever else is neces- sary for that worke, upon the Townes land. .. . " Accord- ing to Lambert, the work was carried on until 1679, when it was abandoned, due to the death of the principal workmen.
All nails were made by hand. They varied in shape and size, according to the use for which they were intended. For instance, nails for fastening clapboards had large flattened heads, while flooring nails had narrow heads, which were driven in so that they ran with the grain of the wood.
Hinges were made in a great variety of forms. One of the oldest is the long strap hinge, with its eye hung over a shouldered iron peg or "pintle" driven into the jamb. The "butterfly" hinge is a very old form, of English ori- gin, and was used principally for hanging cupboard doors. "H-and-L" and "H" hinges are much later forms, and were used more commonly than any other sort.
An even broader diversity of forms is to be encountered in the study of latches. It is apparent that the early smiths gave free rein to their artistic imaginations in forging out these latches, for, with the exception of the earliest examples, there was a general lack of similarity in design. Some of those made for use on outside doors were very large, and of bold and vigorous design.
We know comparatively little concerning the early use of paint. The early records are, for the most part, silent on this subject. The New Haven Court Records for Feb- ruary 14, 1647 contain a reference to priming "the Kinges
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Armes," but that does not necessarily indicate that paint was being used on the houses of that time. It does show, however, that the material could then be obtained in the colony of New Haven.
Probably few, if any, Connecticut houses were painted before 1700. Even after paint began to be used on exte- riors, the interior woodwork was left unpainted. Painting at first was for protection of the woodwork, not for effect. Some of these unpainted interiors which have come down to us today are very beautiful. Age, wood, smoke, and sunlight have combined to produce a mellow richness that is far more lovely than any effect of paint could be.
Contrary to general belief, early houses were not painted white. The colors used were red, yellow, and blue. Wadsworth's map of New Haven, dated 1748, designates the color of each house, and shows that many of them were painted either red or blue. White paint did not come into general use until about the Revolutionary period.
An examination of early painted surfaces shows that the coats were very thin, and that the pigments used were principally mineral. According to tradition, both milk and buttermilk were used as vehicles. To what extent linseed oil was employed, we do not know, but whatever the composition of early paint was, it has stuck to the wood with surprising tenacity.
In concluding this article, it seems but fitting to make a brief plea for the preservation of the ancient houses of Connecticut that are still standing. Possibly, we have accepted too much as a matter of course our rich heritage of early houses, and accordingly valued it too lightly. Be this as it may, the fact remains that each year sees fewer old houses left. Too many by far have already disap- peared without actual need; some, due to neglect and decay; many, it is to be regretted, as a result of deliberate
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destruction. Is it not time to pause and face the fact that once these old houses have gone, we can never replace them? Furthermore, let us realize that these dwellings, built by the hands of the men who laid the very founda- tions of our commonwealth are, in fact, human documents of the greatest value and the utmost significance. They must not be destroyed, for they form a vital and irre- placeable link with a vanished past and a people whose part in the upbuilding of our nation merits our humble and reverent admiration.
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174.6 5054 170.13
TERCENTENARY COMMISSION OF THE STATE OF CONNECTICUT
QUI
SUSTINET
TRANSTULIT
COMMITTEE ON
HISTORICAL PUBLICATIONS
Milford, Connecticut The Early Development of a Town as Shown in Its Land Records
PUBLISHED FOR THE TERCENTENARY COMMISSION BY THE YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS
1933
TERCENTENARY COMMISSION OF THE STATE OF CONNECTICUT
COMMITTEE ON HISTORICAL PUBLICATIONS
Milford, Connecticut
LEONARD W. LABAREE
O N an autumn day in 1639 a band of Puritans in New Haven said good-by to their friends and started westward through the woods. A sturdy Indian fighter, Thomas Tibbals, was to guide them along the forest paths to a new home ten miles away; a kindly Herefordshire minister, Peter Prudden, was to lead them in the new life that faced them there. It was the third migration of the group. About two and a half years before, most of them-friends and parish- ioners of Prudden-had sailed from London to Boston in company with John Davenport, Theophilus Eaton, and the other founders of New Haven. From Boston a year later they had moved with the Davenport company to the broad mouth of the Quinnipiac River. Now they were pushing onward a little further into the wilderness to found a plantation of their own.
While in New Haven they had received land on equal terms with the other settlers, but there is nothing else to show that they ever planned to stay permanently. Ap- parently they remained only until their own plans should mature. They sent out a party of four explorers and on
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February 12, 1639, negotiated a treaty with the sachem Ansantawae and other Indians of "Wepowaug" by which they bought a tract of land running from the East (or Indian) River to the Housatonic, and north from the Sound to the path between New Haven and the Indian village of Paugasett, the site of the future town of Derby. For this tract they gave the Indians six coats, ten blan- kets, one kettle, twelve hatchets, twelve hoes, two dozen knives, and a dozen small mirrors. On August 22, 1639, the same day that the New Haven church was organized, Prudden's friends met separately, chose their own "seven pillars," and adopted their own church covenant. Prud- den himself had spent the previous winter preaching at Wethersfield, which place at that time had no pastor. He was a man of winning personality and sound common sense-an ideal pioneer leader. Several of his temporary parishioners became so fond of him that they gave up their former settlement to follow wherever he might show the way. These people and a few families from other places now joined the group. When at last the harvest was gathered in New Haven, Prudden's followers col- lected their families and their goods and set forth to found an independent community about the person of their own loved pastor.
The settlement needed little formal organization at the start and that little was soon contrived. The church was already created. Through that body these worthy Puri- tans felt they could settle all fundamental problems af- fecting civil government and distribution of the land. At the first General Court, held on November 20, the forty- four church-members among the group were accepted as "free planters." The remaining ten settlers were admitted as inhabitants but were denied political privileges. The General Court then declared that "The power is settled
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in the Church to choose persons out of themselves to di- vide the Land into Lotts as they shall have light from the Word of God, and to take order from [that is, regulate] the timber." The religious and biblical nature of the community was further emphasized when the town chose five men "for Judges in all Civill Affaires [who] are to try all causes Between man and man as a Court to punish any Offence and Sin against the Commandments." Until a body of laws should be established these judges were "to observe and Apply them Selves to the rule of the Written Word of God." Shortly afterward the new town took the name of Milford. This organization of the new community was characteristic of the Puritan method of settlement. The church, the government, and the land were all in the control of a single group of leaders. In the history of Milford, as in that of many another New England town, the church existed as a convenanting body of members before the civil government was set up, and even before the settlement was actually begun. Accepting the Scriptures as their primary rule of conduct, and acknowledging no higher political authority under God than themselves, the planters created in effect a little ecclesiastical republic in the wilderness. For the present, at least, they were free to work out their religious, politi- cal, and economic destiny without interference from the outside. In retrospect the little community of fifty or so families alone in the wilds seems pitifully weak and its ambition for independence seems almost fantastic. Yet the human stuff with which it was planted was just the stock from which a vigorous society could best be grown upon the barren and unpromising soil of New England. And the self-reliance of the little plantation typified the independent spirit that marked the early history of all Connecticut.
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The first step in the physical settlement of the town was the distribution of homelots. Grants were made on both sides of two streams, the Mill River or Wepowaug, and the West River. The land on the banks and a strip to the south of the homelots lay in common, and after being fenced were used as a common pasture by the ad- jacent landowners. Most of the homelots were narrow rectangles varying in size from two and three-quarters to seven acres. The planters determined the size of the lots by what they called "the rule of persons and estates." This meant that they considered in each case three factors: first, the relative size of a man's estate, and the amount he had contributed to the common expenses of the settlement; second, the size of his family; and third, his prominence and ability as a leader in the arduous task of making a settlement in the wilderness. On these home- lots the owners built their houses and first rude barns. Here, too, they planted their kitchen gardens and sowed an acre or more of grain or Indian corn. Around the homelots as a whole they set up a palisade. The enclosed area became in time the center of the town and commu- nity life and the nucleus from which all later expansion took place.
Probably the building of houses, fences, and palisade, and the cultivation of the homelots were enough to keep the planters busy for the first year or so. But a further distribution of land soon became necessary, for not even the largest homelot was big enough to supply the needs of a family. Twice before 1643, therefore, the town agreed to divide up parts of the outlying arable land. The basis of these divisions, as well as of those which followed soon after, was the same "rule of persons and estates" which had been used in apportioning the homelots. But how to treat everyone fairly was a problem. The land was not
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all equally fertile and some of it was naturally much more conveniently located than the rest. A man who re- ceived a rocky hillside a mile or more away from home was likely to think himself ill-used if his neighbor got land in a well-watered bottom close at hand. Milford solved this difficulty, as did other New England towns, by the system known as "sizing," whereby the amount of land granted was made to compensate for differences in quality or location. When a division was to be made a committee of "sizers" chose a piece of land typical in every respect of the general run of that to be divided. This plot was called the "pattern." Then, as the indi- vidual lots were laid out, the "sizers" carefully compared them with this "pattern" in regard to fertility and dis- tance from the homelots. If the land in question was poorer in quality or appreciably farther away from town than the "pattern," the "sizers" added an extra amount free from taxes, while if the plot was more desirable than the "pattern" they decreased the amount granted, but still recorded the lot as taxable for the full amount. In this way every one might receive fair treatment.
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