In this space we will chronicle the history and ongoing restoration of the Dr. Oliver Bronson House in Hudson, NY; a National Historic Landmark. First built as a Federal-style residence for Samuel Plumb in 1812, the house and grounds were reinvented by architect Alexander Jackson Davis into a fully realized Romantic-Picturesque estate for Dr. Bronson and his family in two successive remodeling campaigns dating to 1839 and 1849. Continue reading
The reason the house is standing taller and the roof planes are cutting cleaner is that there have been a lot of structural repairs underneath the hood. Where possible, Jesse and his team have tried to “sister” onto the existing framing, providing new wood on either side of the two hundred-year-old original timbers (I guess they are some “brothers” in there as well). Below are some examples from the NE Federal Dining Room bay:
In early August, we watched with horror as the study wall literally began to disappear as we began exposing the sheathing. Years of unchecked water infiltration had completely destroyed the integrity of the sheathing and framing, so where it existed at all, it crumbled to the touch. So, it was a good thing to see a solid replacement it its place last weekend, awaiting the return of its window sash (sorry still need some work on the jambs and sill).
Until then, we are looking at plywood (keeps the critters out).
The number one priority of the Phase I restoration work was to put a sound roof over the house. The new black EPDM roof presents a strong contrast to the rusty, alligatored, and puckered skin of its predecessor. As you can see below, the roof planes are now clean and straight, allowing water to easily run off the roof rather than puddle up and work their way into the building interior. The chimney bases have been boxed in and flashed in preparation for their reconstruction in later restoration phases. In a future phase of restoration, this temporary roof surface will be replaced with a new coated copper roof.
In contrast the matte black of the roofing membrane, the shiny galvanized gutter systems and copper flashing jump out at you A little bling is not necessarily a bad thing…
Was able to visit the house last weekend and see all of the progress made by the team in the last month or so. A lot has happened since I last reported in. No more gaping holes in the roof to observe the heavens (see my last post), no more rotten sill and roof plates that were only usable as garden mulch, and, yes, we now actually have a wall in the study. It’s been quite the journey since this work glove arrived, brand new on the job site in mid-July.
The cumulative impact of all of Tuttle Construction’s hard work is immediately visible as you approach the house. The house stands straighter, and prouder.
Follow the next posts for a look inside and out.
In the last couple of weeks of August, we saw a lot of sky. Too much actually. And the somewhat alarming site of a head or a hand emerging from the roof:
But it was all for a good cause. Before we could start putting down new roofing, we had to repair the rotten sections of rafters and plates.
One of the worst areas was the transition between the 1812 house and the 1849 Davis addition. In order to provide wide-ranging (western) river views in the new section of the house, the architect placed the chimney stacks on the east wall of the new addition. While this provided attractive room layouts, it also resulted in the new chimney stacks being placed squarely within the roof valleys dividing the old and new sections of the house (see second photo from top for location).
So aesthetics were preserved but functionality lost out. Water inevitably built up behind the chimneys, got inside, and rotted the framing below. This problem was compounded by the awkward way the carpenters interpreted the architect’s instructions. Rather than reframe the old section to match the new, they simply left the old Federal hip rafter in place and put some boards on top to “cob” the two sections together.
Jesse and the team worked methodically to repair each of these problem areas, patching in new material to provide a strong base for the new roof (and keeping things covered up during the frequent rain squalls):
So maybe you were wondering why its been so quiet here on the Daybook? Well, the project continues along , but your correspondent has returned to the academy for another year of middle-aged student-hood. Columbia University’s graduate program in Historic Preservation to be exact. Wish me luck! And I will try to catch us up with what’s been happening recently at the Dr. Oliver Bronson House.
Whether you pronounce it like “tapenade” or “lemonade,” it has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?
Way back when, the house had a balustrade around the edge of the second floor roof:
East Elevation, undated photo, courtesy of Hudson Correctional Facility
We believe the roof balustrade was original to the 1812 house (it is faintly visible in William Wall’s 1819 watercolor ). And, characteristically, Davis chose to retain and extend it when he designed the 1849 addition. A portion survives on the west face of his Italianate tower:
But a roof balustrade is essentially a fence at the bottom of a hill and so rain, snow, and ice tends to build up behind it and work their destructive ways.
As we worked on repairing the eaves, portions of the original balustrade support posts started to be uncovered:
The posts had been cut down and covered by sheathing boards during a re-roofing campaign (probably in the first half of the twentieth century).
We carefully recorded the layout of the support posts for future reconstruction of the balustrade.
