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.

FARM BUILDING SOUTH OF MARVELL ARKANSAS

 

 

Located next to series of grain silos, this ancient building is a mystery to me.

Most farm buildings are designed in an economical, nearly austere manner; they are working structures meant to fulfill some specific purpose on the working farm. A barn is designed to shelter animals and hay. Silos store grain. Sheds store equipment.

This looks like a combination of a residence, barn, store and church, and no matter how I look at it, I can't for the life of me figure its purpose.

The front entrance is not just a door, but a separate vestibule with small storage rooms to the side; in some ways it resembles a church entry. The doors are symmetrical on each side of the main structure and lead to small rooms, only one which has a round steel chimney pipe. Each room originally had a single window, and all the windows have long since been framed in and boarded over with wood clapboards matching the rest of the structure. This indicates that the original purpose of the building has been changed.

My best guess is that it once housed several small apartments, possibly for farm workers. The rooms are small, floored with wood and have no connection to one another. There is, however, no sign of electricity or plumbing. It is possible that it predates the electrification of this part of Arkansas, or that the workers weren't deemed important enough to provide such luxuries. A long-gone outhouse likely sat nearby if this was a residence.

The doorways are very tall for such a purpose, as are the ceilings. They seem particularly unsuited for housing farm workers in an unheated room, though there was likely little work to do when it was cold.

My favorite Vestige is the collapsed barge rafter on the front of the main structure. A barge rafter is the last rafter on the roof, and acts as the support for the extended roof decking, creating an overhanging eave.

In most buildings, the wood decking that sheathes the roof extends out to the barge rafter, and the decking actually supports the barge rafter, which often has no structural support underneath.

In this building, however, the roof decking ends at last rafter above the outside wall and a short run of decking above the barge rafter is actually resting on the rafter itself; instead of running back to attachment points on other rafters, the short decking boards end at the outside wall, creating a hinge. And since the barge rafter has no support underneath, it has collapsed nicely. The same thing has happened to the barge rafter on the opposite side.

Perhaps the thing was built by farm workers with no understanding of the inherent problem. Its underpinning has apparently failed (look at the undulating sway), so it may be an extreme example of vernacular style. No training in building but needing a structure, in this case (my supposition, not fact). It is still a handsome structure, and attention was paid to its construction.

The building appears to be of early 20th century design.

TROMPE L'OEIL DOORWAY  

MAGNOLIA COURTHOUSE, COLUMBIA COUNTY ARKANSAS 

Magnolia's downtown, in the southwestern part of the state, is a commercial success. It's town square is populated by many fine old buildings, and nearly all have active businesses in them. Unfortunately, nearly every building on the square has been altered to such an extent that the original structure is nearly unrecognisable below the stucco or modern steel finishes.

But that's not upon which I have come here to expound.

Christ, English is a clunky language.

The Columbia County Courthouse is one of the gems of Arkansas. It is absolutely gorgeous, and has many things about which it can brag.

Neoclassical to an extent to which other Neoclassical buildings try to aspire, the triangular pediments, Corinthian capitals, bas reliefs and exaggerated eave brackets SCREAM Greece. Or Rome, if you go that way.

But it is the pair of unused doors on the north and south sides that blow my mind.

Featured here is the north side.

The glass that would normally be in the two doors, the sidelites and the huge transom has been replaced with wood panels, and those panels have been painted to look like what you might see if there really was glass.

Hunh?

It's a painting. A VERY accurate painting of the doors on the other side of the building as well as a reflection of the sky and surrounding magnolia trees in the transom and skylights. If you go around to the south side of the courthouse, you'll come face to face with its twin.

The technique is called trompe l' oeil, and is not seen much nowadays. More common in Victorian times, these life size Vestige-scapes often portrayed scenes that might occur but don't necessarily.

Just why they didn't keep the glass is a mystery (it would have shown the same thing), but Magnolia has several fine murals painted on its downtown buildings, and this is likely part of that theme. Might even be the same artist that did some of them.

My guess is that they didn't want people using those doors, so they sealed them, painted the scenes, and laugh like hell when someone tries to open them.

It is a surprise to find something like this on a courthouse. And it's an absolute delight to the senses.

STORE SIGN #1 FROM HAVANA, ARKANSAS

Havana, Arkansas (not to be confused with Cuba, Missouri) is at the base of Mount Magazine, the highest point in the state. I recommend a visit to both. Havana doesn't have a lot of lively entertainment, but this store is just chuck full o' Vestiges, many which I'll be featuring in future posts.

The sign is apparently for 'Sir Walter Raleigh' brand chewing tobacco, and it's 44 per cent fresher. Fresher than what? Fresher than the last spent chew in your cheek? Fresher than the teenage bag boy that winked at you while you were at the grocery store? Fresher than the last batch they made?

Fresher than a glass of ice-cold homemade lemonade?

Surely not.

But it is pouch-packed. Whatever that means. I guess it could have been packed in a used casket.

The brick mortar is disintegrating, which is not surprising as it is a lime/sand/water mix with little or no Portland to make it hard (oh my!). Probably why the brick still looks good.

              CHIMNEYS AT THE MT. CARMEL SCHOOL

                                        Mt. Carmel School, McCormick County South Carolina

These are couple of chimneys from the Mt. Carmel School in Mt. Carmel, McCormick County, South Carolina. I will be featuring Mt. Carmel a lot in this blog, as it is a nearly perfectly preserved (and mostly unoccupied) town dating to the late 1800s, and is chock full o' Vestiges. The school is obviously of Craftsman design, as evidenced by the pyramidal columns, exposed rafter tails, and triangular knee-braces. Probably dates from (or was remodeled in) the early 1900s.

The first chimney is a simple brick stack in the center of the rear ell; it probably vented a wood stove. I didn't get a chance to see the room it vented, but as it is in the center of the room, I'm guessing it may be suspended from a wood frame or metal rods that support a wood platform. This is a typical application in the rural south, and is rather shocking to see for the first time. A brick chimney simply should not be suspended in the middle of a room. Of course, it might not be. It might run all the way to the ground.  It might actually be inside an interior wall, I dunno. Don't listen to me.

What I like about it is the brick chimney cap. Simple, cheap, and easy to build, it would keep the rain from the stove below. The openings face southwest and northeast, which would allow prevailing winds to create the Venturi (or Bernoulli) effect that allows smoke to rise through any chimney. The eddy of the wind creates lower pressure that draws the smoke upward, dontcha know.

I don't like the fact that someone spray-painted the metal roof and got a bunch of overspray on the brick. Tsk tsk. As a craftsman, I object, but am happy the building is being cared for all the same.

The big chimney at the rear of the school is unusual in several ways. It seems its fireplace would heat the large room rather unevenly, roasting the teacher's backside while alternately freezing the kids in the back row. Most schools have central stoves, or one located on a side wall in more-or-less the center of the room; this heats more evenly. It's one hell of a fireplace, too.

If you look closely, you can see a metal tie-rod and turnbuckle that holds the side walls together (or at least prevents them from spreading apart). The lack of joists in churches, schools, and other buildings with vaulted ceilings makes this necessary. Churches often used buttresses in place of tie rods.

But around back, the stack's construction makes me wonder. Did they build the granite chimney first and when it leaned, they designed a cobblestone-and-concrete wedge to keep it upright? I don't thinks so. Closer examination shows the granite jutting into the cobble-wedge, effectively joining them together during construction. Unlike northeastern Colonial-era central chimney house designs, the chimney for this structure was built during or after the construction of the school. Colonial-era homes often have rock-walled basements and huge central chimney stacks that were dug and built first, with the timbers of the house coming after and using the chimney for support. I believe the wedge was built during construction, not as an afterthought.

The chimney is not cracked or leaning, so whatever the wedge was intended to do, it's doing it well. The mortar joints are tooled to a convex half-round, a common practice among turn of the century German masons, though Italians and Irish did this on a lesser scale. The addition to the left is fairly modern, as evidenced by the cinder block foundation.