NINETEENTH CENTURY HOUSE

 

MT. CARMEL SOUTH CAROLINA

 

I use the title "Nineteenth Century House" because I have a bit of a problem with the age of this structure. As mentioned elsewhere in this blog, Mt. Carmel is supposed to date from the later part of the nineteenth century, but this house has several features that hark back to the Federal era (1803-1845 or thereabouts), so I have hard time dating it.

Mt Carmel's heyday was in the late 19th century, but that doesn't mean their architecture can't be from an earlier period.

And truth be told, the house has several iconic architectural features from the late 1800s, such as the hip roof on a 2-story vertically-aligned structure and a small dormer in the middle of the roof facing the street. And even the hip roof deal is twenty years in the future. From that point, things get a bit muddier.

The symmetry of the window placement can be attributed to Georgian, Federal, or Colonial Revival styles. But there are some giveaways that take my opinions back a few years.

The exterior window treatments, especially at the tops of said windows, are as Classical as can be.

The front door, though as Victorian as can be (what with the multicolored square glass surrounding an oblong clear glass panel, and who is this "Canby" everybody's talking about, nevermind the tippo of the old hat to Norton Juster), seems a bit later than the Federal-style transom and sidelights. These were the signature feature of a Federal-era entry, but that style did persist into the late Victorian era. The door is pure Late Victorian.
 

So how old is it? According to the locals, it's from the late nineteenth century.

That's good enough for me.

I do like the fact that the shutters on the second floor have been closed, hopefully to preserve the windows or the finishes inside.

It really is a grand house, and if I owned it, the porch would be my living room.

The Ionic column capital, though, seems to be trying to ascend to Corinthian.
 

Or so it seems to me.

MONTEAGLE SUNDAY SCHOOL ASSEMBLY

MONTEAGLE, TENNESSEE

 

Back in the Goodle Days, we used to drive slow. We'd sleep with the windows open and we'd spend a good deal of time on our front porches. We knew all our neighbors and hung out with them, even to the extent of watching each other's kids, having neighborhood cookouts, and attending concerts in the park with them.

Then came TeeVee and we retreated into our rooms.

Not so at the Monteagle Assembly. Here, the neighborhood still comes together.

 

Located about forty miles northwest of Chattanooga Tennessee, the town of Monteagle is aptly named, as it sits atop Monteagle Mountain almost a thousand feet higher than the river below. This is the top of the Cumberland Plateau, a table land of flat sandstone capping the very porous limestone below; this geological relationship causes water to flow off the sandstone to create extremely vertical cave systems below. But it is what is on top of the mountain that tweaks the architectural eye.

The Assembly is a Chautauqua, a planned community popular in the late 1880s and early 1900s, particularly in New York state. These communities were an offshoot of the independent adult education movement that came from newly discovered 'leisure time' never available before the Industrial Revolution. Sure, slum children were chained to tables fourteen hours a day, but a certain layer of society could gather at these retreats to get away from being near all that.

Chatauquas were also a return to closer community living, which was being threatened by the same Industrial Revolution that gave them that leisure time. They were a summertime retreat from the crowded cities, and, usually located on forested mountain tops, the architecture of the individual homes often opened them to the cool evenings the cities lacked. Thus the expansive porches.

And because of their Adirondack roots, Chatauqua architecture tends towards the massive timbers and thick walls of those homes that came from the colder climes of Northern New York. Big porches, trees for columns, and colored lights that might or might not have discouraged the local Adirondack mosquitoes, often as big as small Cessna aircraft.

These offered not only a community gathering place removed from the hustle of the cities, but a learning experience as well. Courses in theology (the first Chatauquas were begun by the Methodists), philosophy, history, semantics, and other liberal arts were offered to the small residential congregations (for that's pretty much what they were). But they grew and blossomed as most good works do.

Soon the classes turned towards art and more classical studies such as drama, and before long, plays were being performed, gallery walks bloomed, and people started to think about what else they could teach and learn. The Chatauquas became a hotbed of progressive thinking that was shared, absorbed, and brought back to the teeming cities. Then the real work began to make a better society for everyone.

And this is where we stand today.

Monteagle Assembly is one of the few Chatauquas in the south, and the fact that Al Capone built a house just outside its borders tells you that it must be in a fine location indeed. Hard to find even if you know the area, The Assembly is purposefully kept away from the public eye. The residents are a mix of a few year-round denizens and the Summer Folk that come for a few weeks or months from their homes elsewhere.

But make no mistake; being a member of a Chatauqua is a serious commitment.

There are stringent architectural guidelines controlling just what you can and cannot do to your property (they are almost all historic, as is the entire Assembly), there is an expectation of your interaction with the community (they'd rather you didn't just participate in but INITIATED programs), and you don't own the land upon which your house sits. You RENT the land even if you own the house.

It's a serious commitment, but from what I've seen, it's a great commitment.

 

There is a community dining room.

 

 

There are great swaths of greensward (can I say that?) where the water runs off the mountain. Kids play there without supervision, as they should be able to everywhere. But this place is safe.

 

 

There is a community performance hall for big shows.

 

There are small bandstands for more intimate performances.

 

 

These are often on the edge of the fine parks in the center of the community.

 

There are beautiful, well-kept homes with much more lawn than suburbia would dictate anyone could normally use.

 

          And some with virtually no lawn at all.

 

There are older homes with quaint names like "Camelot."

 

 

Even the newer homes (there are very few of these) are designed to blend nicely with the older buildings.

 

 

There is a fine bed and breakfast called The Edgeworth Inn that is the only lodging within the community, and you will be treated very well indeed. Be prepared for fog.

 

 I told you to be prepared for fog.

 

 

 There is a fine university just down the road in the sort-of town of Sewanee. Called The University of the South, it is worth a trip of its own.

 

 

There are no stores inside the Assembly. The entire thing is surrounded by a tall chain-link fence that has been overgrown with trees and bushes. The community isn't easy to find even if you are looking for it. It took me years to find, and I was there annually.

 

There is a fine restaurant just outside the Assembly. One of Al Capone's summer retreats, High Point will treat you to a wonderful meal, great service, and cozy atmosphere. Reservations are recommended.

 

 

It is a gated community, and when in full session, there is a guard at the gate. That doesn't mean you can't come in.

 

 

There are quaint, curved streets with hand-laid stone gutters. The streets are gravel and asphalt, and are well maintained.

 

 

The speed limit is 14 miles an hour. The locals will bother you if you exceed it. First they will frown, then they will point. Then the local constabulary will visit with you about slowing down.

 

 

But you should do it anyway. There is so much to see and appreciate.