Remodeled Farmhouses. Mary Harrod Northend
is a secret closet so carefully hidden in the panels that only those familiar with it can find it. This was known in Colonial days as the "priest hole," and it was here, so the legend runs, that French refugees were secreted during the French and Indian wars.
The dining-room opens off the hallway at the left. It is a long, narrow room with a fireplace at one side of the end nearest the hall. The woodwork has been finished in a dark stain, and the old corner cupboard has been kept intact. The fireplace wall is paneled in swamp pine, and over the mantel there is a secret panel cupboard. The lower part of the walls is covered with dark green burlap, and above is a decorative paper in boldly striking colors. There is a long, refectory dining-table in this room, made of stout oak boards, and the other furniture has a monastic simplicity which is entirely in keeping with the character of the room.
The small room at the rear of the living-room is used as a guest chamber and is known as the missionary room. Here the walls are tinted a soft moss green, and ornamented at the top by a black and white frieze that pictures the different stages of a missionary's life. He is shown from the time of his arrival on the lonely island to his chase and capture by a band of cannibals, and finally being roasted amidst scenes of hilarity as they turn his fat form on the spit.
The studio was originally the kitchen and opens out of this room. The woodwork is of the same dark brown tint used through all the lower story, and the walls are hung with natural colored burlap. The principal features of the room are its fireplace and quaint Dutch oven which were built into the center of the twelve-foot chimney when the house was erected. From the pothook on the crane hangs an old Colonial kettle. Of almost equal interest are the small-paned windows which are closed by sliding inside panels.
The present kitchen has been added at the rear. It has white walls decorated with a frieze in which lobsters disport themselves in different attitudes.
A small closet at one side of the passage that leads into the kitchen has been utilized for a bathroom. It is finished in white with a dado of tiles painted with turtles.
When the house was first purchased, there was an old barn on the property a short distance away. This was moved up and connected with the house. It opens from the dining-room and has been converted into a lounge room, with servants' quarters at the rear. This room is one of the most interesting in the house. It is finished in stained pine, and the old rafters and woodwork have been left as they originally were. The spaces between the heavy beams of the ceiling are white, the beams being black with a narrow band of peacock blue above.
The originality used in finishing the house is evidenced nowhere better than in the chambers, on the second floor. Each one has been decorated with a different flower, and they are known as the holly-hock, the sweet pea, the wistaria, and the morning-glory room. A frieze of the particular flower has been painted around, and the canopies and bed coverings show the same design and colors in cretonne.
A small room in the barn wing, which was not large enough to be converted into a chamber as it stood, has been utilized for this purpose by opening up a large, connecting closet into an alcove to hold the bed. It is so arranged that at night the bed can be pulled out into the center of the room, and in the daytime hidden behind curtains drawn across the alcove.
There are quaint old four-posters in all of the bedrooms, and old-fashioned and simple furniture is used throughout the house. Some of it is home-made, and in many of the rooms are bookcases constructed from packing-boxes, and hung across with curtains of the cretonne used elsewhere in the room.
In altering many old houses for modern occupancy, there has been a greater expenditure than would have been required to build an entirely new structure. But in this instance the charm of the old home has been retained with a considerably smaller outlay than would have been necessary to erect another of equal size and facilities.
There is an undeniable satisfaction in realizing that all has been gotten out of a venture of this kind that was possible, and that no offense has been committed against the spirit of the old house. Every one who has attempted remodeling obtains different results from those first planned, for as the work proceeds, new possibilities and new limitations constantly appear, till the completed building has an individuality unrealized in the beginning.
In Limovady, as this little country place is named, we find a good example of what can be done to make an old house not only a livable but a delightful home, and it is a success such as this that inspires other home seekers to remodel, according to their own ideas. For no two people will be likely to conceive the reconstruction of a home in just the same way, and it is this stamp of individuality that lends to the remodeled house a large part of its charm.
CHAPTER III
THE KITTREDGE HOUSE
Have you ever noticed the fishermen's little cottages that stand along the seacoast wherever modern summer resorts have not displaced them? From a modern architectural point of view, they would at first seem quite insignificant, and yet, hidden away beneath the rough exteriors, there are often interesting lines and good proportions. The humble fishermen who dwelt there cared little for external appearance, but they built their cottages strong and solid and, though unpretentious, they were comfortable.
These little old houses, seemingly commonplace though they may be, hold much more interest for the prospective house owner and the architect than do the more elaborate ones of later periods. For wherever men have utilized what skill and intelligence they have to satisfy definite needs in the simplest, most straightforward way, they have achieved something of lasting worth.
The ages of these old seacoast houses vary just as do those farther inland. Some were built long before the Revolution and others at a much more recent date. Some have fallen into hopeless decay, while others are still stanch and habitable. The possible purchaser should make a careful examination both inside and out before he decides to remodel. Sometimes, from a superficial survey, an old house may appear sturdy enough to warrant renovation, but a closer investigation will prove that this would be an expensive business. For the old timbers often hold together firmly because they have all settled together as a unit; if any one is disturbed, the rest may be greatly weakened or even threaten to fall apart, like the proverbial house of cards.
The first indication of dangerous weakness is a sagging roof. If the lines are even a little concave, it is a bad sign, for the roof would not have settled had the walls held absolutely true. Because of pressure against them, they have been forced apart and perhaps are on the point of tumbling down altogether. If the roof passes its test well, then examine the line of the walls and be sure they are absolutely vertical and have neither spread nor fallen inward.
Next study the condition of the timbers. The sill is the most important one. If it is badly-decayed, all the other members resting upon it will have been thereby weakened and the whole structure impaired. The upright timbers and the studs will all have settled, and to straighten them will mean practically the rebuilding of the house. The floors and the roof which rest upon them will be endangered. Sometimes the ends of the uprights have rotted, and the slightest new work about them will result in their crumbling and undermining the beams and rafters they support. It is often necessary to use a sharp iron or a long knife and pry underneath the coverings on both the exterior and the interior