STONE FENCES, NORTH STONINGTON CONNECTICUT

Running along many rural roads of New England, stone fences are a ubiquitous part of the architectural landscape. Most folks, including ancient locals, refer to these as 'walls,' but they are quite wrong in their terminology.

A wall is built to keep things out; a fence keeps them in.

And though these fences do both, they were originally built to keep livestock from wandering onto the neighboring farm, where they might be claimed. Ben Franklin said "Good fences make good neighbors." It was these to which he was referring.

New England is underlain with granite, schist, gneiss, marble, slate, and all manner of hard rocks that seem to surface every year in plowed fields. The farmer of yesteryear (it's true today as well) knew that before the ground thawed but the field was snow-free enough to locate the stones, he and his hands would begin the yearly task of removing those that surfaced during the freeze/thaw cycle of winter. They loaded them on wide, heavy, low sleds and used the ice-slick ground to transport them with a minimum of friction and effort to the borders of those fields.

It was a hell of a lot easier to drag those sleds to the edge of the field than to a single point elsewhere, so the borders of those fields were demarcated with runs of stone, killing two birds with one stone (well, lots of them, actually). Unknown to most alive today, those fences were often topped with split wood rails to keep anything from jumping them. All wood has since rotted away, but the stones remain as a testament to past farmers' efforts to keep their fields clear.

Some are haphazard, laid with the clearing of the field in mind. Some are carefully constructed from selected sizes and contours to create an artistic, efficient design to please the eye.

 

And if you look carefully, you'll sometimes find fine veins of large crystals running through them. Known as 'pegmatite,' this is where gas bubbles in the molten granite allowed for larger crystal growth into the voids created by the gas. It cooled quicker, causing the crystals to grow in size.

 

Occasionally, road work or neglect or erosion brings these walls down.

Then professional fence builders (masons to you and me, but a special breed of them) are called in.

No stone sleds are needed today; track hoes outfitted with lobster claws make the job much easier.

                 David Higginbotham and his excellent helper rebuilding an ancient stone fence

 

 It is a matter of both physics and personal choice as to how to rebuild them, and common knowledge has the largest on the bottom, the medium sizes getting smaller towards the top, and the longest used as capstones to prevent as much erosion as possible. Then smaller pieces are used as chinking in the voids between the larger stones.

 

ALTERED PORCH OF THE JAMES PHELPS HOUSE IN ESSEX CONNECTICUT, 1845

This fine example of Greek Revival architecture is one of the many well-kept historic homes in Essex, Connecticut, a river town steeped in oceangoing history.

Though it is a beautiful home, I am curious about the siding on the first floor. The photograph, unfortunately, makes it look like a solid wall of concrete or stucco. It is not. It is wood.

The siding on the second floor is clapboard, an overlapping beveled six inch board well-known from Colonial to modern times. It is inexpensive and does a great job of keeping out the rain. The fact that it stops at the top of the first floor is what piques my curiosity.

The first floor siding is not overlapping, but tongue-in-groove planking. This makes it extremely susceptible to water infiltration, and therefore is seldom (never) used as an exposed siding.

Unless it was never meant to be exposed.

Examination of the portico to the left shows it to be of very new construction. The foundation and paving is of new slate flagstone, which is not native (granite is the local rock), and the trim does not match anything else on the house.

My guess (and it is only a guess) is that the original porch spanned the entire length of the house. The tongue-in-groove siding was likely protected by the long-gone porch roof above. Porches are the most susceptible part of the house to water infiltration, and so are the most likely part of any home to be damaged and then removed.

Only closer examination of the siding would prove if my guess is correct; there would be filled holes and possibly paint lines showing since-removed structural members or brackets.

I did not open the gate and get close enough to see.

OUTDOOR LAMP IN ESSEX CONNECTICUT, 1910

Essex is a beautiful Connecticut River town famous for its ship building history. The first warship in the revolution, the Oliver Cromwell, was built there in 1776. It was captured two years later.

The building upon which this lamp resides is dated to around the same time. I liked the lamp because of the embossed date and because it looks like something that came off a steamship from the same era. Perhaps it did.

 

The door next to it is not of the same era as the house.

WALLINGFORD COPPER MINE CHESHIRE CONNECTICUT, CIRCA 1700

This isn't exactly architectural, but it is geological and archaeological.

Located on the Wallingford/Cheshire town lines, this knife-edge ridge of basalt rises sixty some-odd feet from the forest floor below and runs north to south for about a quarter of a mile. All the hills in the area are of basalt, and they are similarly oriented. Known as the Talcott Hills, many have been profitably mined for 'trap rock' for hundreds of years. Basalt is an igneous rock (formed while molten) and has a particular habit of fracturing along vertical lines as it cools. This makes it particularly valuable as rip-rap, road metal, and other crushed-stone products. In other words, it's already broken by nature, so further breaking is relatively easy.

This particular diabase ridge is crisscrossed by veins of malachite, barite, and other valuable minerals, though they are found in too low concentrations to be profitably mined. It is possible to find small pieces of barite crystal, malachite, and  associated copper sulfides and sulfates. Collectors would soon be bored. Pits and prospects dot the ridge and its edges.

 

The real treasure here is the age of the mine. My research has shown that this mine predates the established 'oldest' copper mine in the state by almost a decade, one in Granby, Connecticut. That mine, since turned into the infamous Newgate Prison of Colonial times, is now a state park, and the copper mined from it was illegally smelted into local coinage. If you find a "Granby Copper," hold onto it; it is the earliest minted coinage in the U.S. and worth a fortune.

The State Archaeologist, when I reported my find and its accompanying deeds and paperwork from the late 1600s, refused to investigate it.

"I don't intend to rewrite history. It upsets too many people."

That was in 1983. The mine and its records are completely unknown to this day.

I haven't checked back with the state to see if there is a more forward-thinking State Archaeologist. (NOTE: I have since reopened my investigation into the mine, and have kept the newest State Archaeologist informed as to my research. He is MUCH more supportive of rewriting history to reflect facts. JWK 3/19).

As to architecture, there are some stone foundations nearby that likely supported some sort of mine buildings. It is also obvious that the mine was worked on and off during the past four hundred years. On my last visit this past weekend, I found several pieces of galena, which sometimes accompanies copper. My guess is that the galena may be mixed with silver. It would not surprise me in the least to find that the early Wallingford Colonials knew this and did a little illegal smelting of their own. The rascals.

SAVED CUPOLA AT

SAYBROOK POINT CONNECTICUT

Saybrook point is a coastal resort community on the Connecticut coast just west of the mouth of the Connecticut River, and is one of the most expensive places to live in Connecticut. That Connecticut is one of the most expensive places to live in the country gives you an idea of how expensive this place is.

Most of the homes in this particular neighborhood are new, but a few Victorian-era homes still survive. I stopped to take this picture because the cupola looks to be the only part of the home that hasn't been updated. It looks as if they intend to save it and restore it, though, and the contrast between new and old is striking. I'm sure there's an old house underneath all the Tyvek and pressure-treated lumber, but it's hard to tell. Even the foundation appears to be concrete, and therefore new. The original foundation would likely be large blocks of local granite.

Common folklore is that these cupolas are the places from which ship's captains' wives would watch for their husbands' return from the sea, and many such towers rise above the crowded streets of Stonington, Mystic, and other coastal Connecticut towns. If the tower beneath has no enclosed area at the top but a short iron fence instead, it is called a 'widow's walk.'

A.D 1910

NEW MILFORD CONNECTICUT

 

 

I have no idea what this building was originally, but it is located in New Milford, Connecticut, a beautifully restored town on the Upper Housatonic River in Western Connecticut.

I chose it for several reasons.

First and foremost, New Milford is a gorgeous city with a vibrant downtown, interesting people, and a great admixture of residential and commercial architecture. And this is the one example of abandonment I found. Located on a side street from the town green, it stands out like a neon sign in Williamsburg.

It is proud, though. The workmanship is excellent. And it shows changes through the ages, always a plus on this site.

The front windows are obviously newer than the original structure by at least fifty years; products of the seventies made of aluminum and plastic glazing, they are already falling apart. Probably have been for the past twenty years.

The brickwork is exceptional, and I love the limestone keystones above the windows; real craftsmanship there. The cornerstones, lintels, sills and frieze also appear to be this fine carving stone, as do the capstones on top of the parapet. The building's signature stone is carved from the same material, and what it says is completely new to this observer. Most signature stones are emblazoned with the builder's name (if the owner built it) or the person responsible for the structure.

This one is rather humble; it only designates the year of construction. And the fact that it was built after the birth of Jesus Christ. Good thing. I thought it might be Early Roman.

The brickwork is amazing. It is a Flemish bond, alternating headers and stretchers; many headers show a purple end and stretchers are showing red. Quite striking it is, he said in his best Yoda voice.

I also like the flagpole. I usually wax poetic about the sign poles outside  commercial structures, but this one is truly majestic. Not a sign pole with cheap tubes and guy wires, this thing is a piece of art in itself.  Thick tubular construction and attention paid to its construction, the damn thing must stretch twenty feet over the sidewalk below. The brass ball on the end proves it to be more than a mere sign iron.

The small dots on either side of the door (up about six and a half feet from the ground) are indicative of past sconces, removed for use elsewhere or long since rotted away through neglect. Guess which one.

I do like the mailbox by the front door. No one lives there. But I know what the things at the top corners of that door are for. They are hooks anchored into the wall to support a long-gone awning over the door, the remnants which may still be there.

Looking at the back, the addition is of a slightly later date, if the brickwork is to be believed. But there, despite the crappy resolution of the proffered picture, are the original four-over-four windows. They can be seen above the even later addition with the big green double doors with the orange placard within.