Almost a year ago, we faced the year’s first pile of pick-up sticks: a neat but undifferentiated pile of timbers that formerly formed the French House of Kingston, NH. They were first assembled in 1804, around the time that the landmark Badger Tavern opened in Kingston, and the formerly enslaved overthrew their oppressors in the Haitian Revolution. More than two centuries later, the house was dismantled and transported to the Foley property in Poland, ME. It will soon become the home of two of our most steadfast clients, Charles and Sheila Foley.
Initially, at least, the project was like the Reverend Morrison House; we were charged with deciphering the frame and drawing a model, but the projects diverge dramatically from there. While the Morrison House will ultimately be interpreted for the public as a historic house museum, the French House will include four new bents off the back ell and indoor plumbing. The ultimate aesthetic will be historically accurate, but the home will be comfortable for a 21st century family.
Typically, PTF models the building and establishes tagging numbers before we dismantle. It is easier to determine the overall dimensions of a building while it is standing than when it is in parts. Tagging each member with an individual tagging number makes it easier to identify and inventory the pieces after they have been moved to the new site. The dismantlers of the French house used what is actually a more traditional method. They numbered the posts 1-10, and painted the associated numbers on the intersecting plates, tie beams and girts. The approach resembles trail systems that number the intersections of trails rather than naming the trails individually. Occasionally, we encounter old frames whose marriage marks have been numbered in this method, albeit with chisels and roman numerals rather than white paint. Ultimately, deciphering the members of the French House was easier than the process at Reverend Morrison, because the framing members were smaller, better organized, and more complete.
The Foley house is L-shaped and always has been. Three of the plates are continuous, or were originally at least, and are almost 40′ long. It is unusual to find a two-story home from the Federal Period with an original two-story ell. The two 40′ plates, and two continuous ridge beams join one another, making it difficult to imagine how the building was originally assembled. The roof is an impressive feat of joinery, with three low-pitched hips. Given its distinctive roof structure, maybe the house is more accurately situated in the late Georgian period. Go ask Virginia McAlester.
The continuous plates were essential to deciphering the organization of the frame. Due to their length, they were stored separately in the loft of the horse barn, a project we’d reassembled one year prior. Post locations were labelled with the appropriate number in white paint. Each leg of the ell contained two additional tie beams, located in between bents. Each end of the extra tie beam and the associated half dovetail mortise in the plate was labelled with a symbol, rather than an alphanumeric. It was easy to identify the tie beams by their size, the half dovetail joinery on either end, and the long rafter mortise above the half dove. For more about identifying timbers based on joinery alone, see Salvage Detectives, part 2. Fortunately, the continuous plates in this frame provided us with the tie beam layout. If you ever find yourself facing a pile of frame with no map, find the plates and the tie beams. They provide the most accurate overall dimensions and a map of the bents, such as they exist.
From both aesthetic and historical perspectives, a fully scribed and hewn frame is desirable. In the case of the French House, it also means that the dimensions of the timbers are wildly divergent. There was no uniformity to the posts or eave girts. In older 18th century hewn frames, the girts will be oversized and the joists will be undersized, reflecting the size of the tree from which they were hewn. Hewing is labor-intensive, and frequently, the hewer would stop once he achieved flat and square faces. In this house, the scribing and fit of the joinery was remarkable, but the hewn surface and subsequent centuries of alterations left the timbers uneven. Initially, we documented the exact measurements of each of the pieces, in order to establish an average height from top of sill to tie beam. The length of post varied by nearly an inch. We modeled the frame using an ideal post size and established some uniformity to the girts. After the floor plan and window layout was established, I needed to go back to the framing members and adjust each post to its actual dimensions to achieve accurate girt lengths. If I could turn back time, I’d model each stick of the frame individually from the beginning, rather than revising the model later to achieve more accurate measurements needed during the cutting process. I’d also make cut drawings of each of the original timbers, regardless of whether there were significant alterations to the piece. It would allow the crew on site to double check actual measurements against the model.
Constructing the Foley house has been nearly a year-long journey. With the client, we designed a home to suit their needs and meet their historical standards. Upcoming posts will describe the design process, scarf repairs and the incredible hip roof joinery.
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