Summerhill, Winterhill

Summerhill...another of the three original buildings of Queen's University, sits grandly on a south-facing hill, with a park in front. Summerhill was built at a fascinating time in Kingston's history - spending time there is a portal to the heady early days of the United Canadas, when Kingston was capital and the future was limitless.

The Queen's Heritage study explains that Summerhill has been much altered but recently renovated, with "many fine features from each stage of development." At the time of the study, the east wing of Summerhill was still the Principal's official residence.

Summerhill is a two-storey Kingston limestone villa with "American Federal influences" - I would have said  Palladian country house form, with Neoclassical refinements? - consisting of a central wing with two flanking wings. Wide dignified stairways approach the centre verandah from three directions; a one-storey portico provides shelter and haughty reserve (this is not a 'set a spell' sort of porch). To either side are matching splendid curved two-storey porches embracing the curving stone walls, with beautiful doorways below - elliptical fanlight, sidelights with curvilinear design, reeded pilasters and moulded entablature. Such presence: columns, balustrades, a massive central chimney, the fine state of repair and the size and dignity of the place, take my breath away, summer or winter.

chilly students rush by Summerhill

The OHT plaque on the lawn explains the house history. Summerhill was built in 1839 by Anglican Archdeacon George Okill Stuart (hence the name of the street passing in front of KGH, which now looms large across the park). The house was called 'Okill's Folly' or the Archdeacon's Great Castle.

Margaret Angus, in The Old Stones of Kingston, provides a little more of the back-story. She suggests the archdeacon may have overreached himself when he built this place on Lot 24 west of Kingston, on the best part of his inheritance, 200 acres of the 4000 his father, UEL and regimental chaplain accumulated as crown grant in the area.

It's likely that Stuart had inherited the conviction that he was part of a local elite, and that his home must be a reflection of his class - a state of affairs that the ruling elite was confident would take root in the colony (irritants like William Lyon Mackenzie notwithstanding). Unfortunately, it was a bit overbudget, and then there was that damp basement.

The province's first parliament met in the hospital facing Summerhill (another story); Stuart offered Summerhill as parliamentarians' lodgings, and retreated to his warm dry home in town. After that, government offices ('42-43) inhabited the building, then a school, and  finally Stuart managed to sell Summerhill to Queen's College for its first (and only) permanent  building, in 1853.

An 1868 photo, which I found in Vintage Kingston's outstanding Facebook albums shows the early wide roof parapet, and the flanking wings as pavilions joined to the central block via colonnaded corridors. This is very much the Palladian villa form/c.18 British country house style that  I have been studying of late. (Sadly, the photo, with the 1858 Old Medical Building to the left, has dropped off the blog, as has another dated 18870s, showing the 1867 wings.)

With our Past Before Us, by Jennifer McKendry, Kingston's other go-to architectural historian features the same photo, and confirms the British Palladian influences at play. 

The photo also shows the formal gardens in front (an important part of any gentleman's country villa) and what looks like garden or even ungroomed area in the foreground. That would fit with some of the comments I read in the History chapter of the Queen's heritage study, which provides even more background, and reminds us that in the day, grand houses could stand cheek by jowl with undeveloped and unbeautiful squalor. I will explore Stuartsville, and some of its remaining structures in another post.

1908

Thanks again to the amazing Vintage Kingston website for this hand-coloured 1908 view of Summerhill. Quarter-round one-storey porches have been added along the curving walls to either side of the front portico.

In 2010 the east wing of Summerhill was renamed Summerhill/Benidickson House to honour a former Chancellor. These days the Archdeacon's folly houses the Office of the Vice President of Advancement, the Department of Alumni Relations and Department of Development - which when I read closely, sounds like fund-raising. Millions of dollars of it. Things were simpler then, but money was always an issue at Summerhill.

Prison Diaries

 Coverdale's 1836/40 North Gate, seen from Cedarhedge stairs 

I had a most pleasant day in a Kingston landmark with its own fair share of unpleasant memories, on a balmy day last September. I established the green and pleasant grounds of Canada's Penitentiary museum as my base, and wandered around on a purely architectural tour of the facility.

Denis and I had once toured the museum displays, and although the place is beautifully curated, I found Victorian 'reform theories' a bit disturbing. So this visit, I kept my eyes firmly directed toward the architectural features of the splendid location, the North Gate of the Penitentiary complex and the Warden's house, Cedarhedge, facing it across King Street - talk about two different worlds.

Jennifer McKendry, in her scholarly work With our Past Before Us (UofT Press 1995), writes at length about the Provincial Penitentiary, Canada's oldest reformatory institution. Several inherently contradictory theories ("security, salubrity and reformation") and the inevitable bureaucratic and financial complexities resulted in the facility (now a National Historic Site) being completed over a 35 year span, from 1834-1871, largely by inmate labour.

Despite its classically inspired style, it's a pretty grim place. Not by accident does the word penitentiary come from the same root as penitent!



There were tours of the recently closed prison in October and November 2013. Missed them.

c.1900 - thanks to Vintage Kingston FB

 By 1873, the Warden and his family had moved from their apartment within the prison walls and were comfortably established at Cedarhedge across the road, an Italianate mansion built entirely by convict labour, of fine pale Kingston limestone with Ohio sandstone accents. The home was called Cedarhedge for the cedars lining the drive, its expansive terraced walled garden filled with orchards and vineyards, greenhouses and a conservatory, tended by prisoner-gardeners.

two solitudes - the prison seen from Cedarhedge garden

courtesy Vintage Kingston FB

Cedarhedge now houses the museum; curator Dave St. Onge (tidying the porch in the photo above) was incredibly welcoming and informative, full of stories about prison and house, the fine exterior and interior details of Cedarhedge, the gardens (pointing out the photo angle toward the lake) - and the story of the decorative bench in the garden.

The maple leaf for Canada, and the
rose, shamrock & thistle for England, Ireland and Scotland

The woodwork in the house is particularly fine. One can imagine that the most talented prisoners would be inclined to produce detailed designs requiring loads of time, in order to beautify the house - and gain a few more hours outside the walls.

prisoner-made concrete/stone bench

Plan a visit; they won't insist that you stay.

Hey Vancouver!

My old Vancouver home - Cardero Street

A shout-out to my old town Vancouver this morning. I've been thinking about that great city since one day earlier this week, bright clear weather with a temperature of about 8C. Took me back to those rare and wonderful sunny winter days on the coast, the air perfumed by sea and rich vegetation (the not-so-rare ones are rain, rain and rain).

Last night I was googling about and came upon the Your Old House series of booklets published by the Vancouver Heritage Foundation. I printed the one titled 'What Style is It?' (there are others, more relevant to old house owners - masonry, paint colours, wood siding, and wood windows.).

Appleyard Residence, Port Moody (1910)

Browsing through the style guide, I was reminded of the wonderful frame houses of my West End neighbourhood, many, but not all, succumbing to damp and developers. Recalled how delighted we were to see some of my 1970's neighbourhood in the toney West End still intact - the grimy yellow brick apartment building I lived in, and a few craftsman bungalows, Edwardian Foursquare and gable front houses across leafy Cardero Street (now a Bikeway, and no country for large vans).

I didn't take a lot of photos, but a virtual walkabout is always an option.

Old City Hall, Port Moody (1914)

One of the revelations of old-house viewing in the west is the absence of many styles - no elegant Georgians or soignee Regency villas - because the west wasn't building high-style in those days. Not building much (lasting) at all.
Everything of wood - for they had a surfeit of the stuff. Vancouver was incorporated as a city in 1886 - Toronto 1792.

Gold rush heritage - Creighton House (1870), Yale

Do visit the Vancouver Heritage Foundation site - I found a guide for first-time house tour participants (!), lots of  event announcements (and some online versions of previous walks), and accounts of their work saving heritage buildings.

 For like the fine folks at Frontenac Heritage Foundation, this organization 'puts its money where its mouth is'. They purchase at risk heritage buildings, and then find developers who will work with them, within historic preservation guidelines, to repurpose the old structure. Donations always welcome.

You can enjoy a walkabout of Port Moody and its heritage via the City of Port Moody Heritage Register online.

The Tudors

Why would bankers, industrialists and university professors of the 1920's and 30's want to emulate the Medieval era in their choice of domestic architecture?

Indeed, I ask John Blumenson, he of Ontario Architecture (Fitzhenry & Whiteside, 1990) and my travelling companion in 'Journeys with John' here in March of this year, or January 2014.

We turn to Mr. Blumenson to learn about the architectural style inspired by British precedents and known broadly as Period Revival, or more specifically as Tudor, or even Elizabethan or Jacobean Revival or that synthesis of inspiration, Jacobethan.

The English route to this revival is the rural manor houses and cottages of the Tudor period..."with the occasional high-style Gothic feature...the Tudor arch" or a "combination of Medieval forms with Classical elements reflecting the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods."

Period revival "refers to those twentieth century designs that reflect..this transitional era from the late Gothic to Tudor to the Jacobean periods."

We are talking about an era from 1485 - 1625! The year 1485 saw the accession of Henry VII, then Henry VIII and Elizabeth I reigned for most of the era from 1500 to 1603. It was the era of Shakespeare and the Globe Theatre, Henry VIII's nasty marital problems, the dissolution of the monasteries, the English Reformation. Life was improving, but education and sanitation were still for the few.

Elizabethan Revival - 12 Ravenscliffe (1910)

For most, homes were small thatched or tiled huts. Walls were made from timber, or wattle and daub, or brick, stone and tiles. Daub was painted white with lime-wash, and wood was painted with tar to stop rot.  The wavy wooden beams were cut by hand, bricks were handmade. Upper floors extended outwards to create an overhang (called a jetty) - "gardez l'eau" comes to mind.

Glass was expensive and hard to make, so small panes were held together with lead lattice. Tudor chimneys were tall and thin, or twisted, and decorated with cut brick designs.

So why this love affair with a time of "nasty, brutish and short" lives?

Elements common to the Period Revival include: steeply pitched gable roofs, cross gables, and dormer covered with shingles like thatch, Jerkin head gables, stone or brick walls with a projecting upper floor or jetty, half-timbering on upper floors, narrow casement windows with leaded panes, lintels imitating rough stone or wood, drip moulds, entrances with Tudor or round arch, sometimes parapet or shaped gables and transomed windows, and Classical elements like pilaster strips, columns, decorative strap work and stone banding on corners and window surrounds. (Blumenson pages 158-9)

Why indeed? I had to turn to another source, A Guide to Canadian Architectural Styles (Maitland, Hucker & Ricketts, Broadview Press, 1992) for a partial answer.

The authors suggest "a nostalgia for the past and an admiration of things British" and its "association with domesticity." Ironic that this enclave of exclusive homes in early twentieth century industrial giant Hamilton should express such admiration for the "pre-industrial, medieval crafts."

18 Turner (1932)

358 Bay Street South (1930)

Each of these exquisite homes is within walking distance - I visited them all one sunny late fall afternoon in October.  They can be revisited via Historical Hamilton's Durand site.

She's had work done...

One of the challenges of loving old houses, is that they are sometimes not entirely honest with you. They may have had a little touch-up, fixing up some ageing bits. They may have added some new updated detail to their look. Or they may have changed style entirely and had a complete makeover.

I had fun just now with this house at 15 Hilton Street in Hamilton. When I photographed it (in not the best light, but wanted the shots for later research) I thought I'd found some rare Prairie Style home with Art Deco designs.

But the laugh's on me. I had a walkabout on Streetview to have another look. And that view which I hope you can get to here shows the house in question beside its conventional neighbour - and its pre-makeover style. Clever people. Isn't this fun?

 

The Metropolis of Upper Canada

George Rousseau's third hotel (1830's)

 I quote Lieutenant Francis Hall from his page-turner Travels in Canada and the United States in 1816 and 1817: "Ancaster merits to be the metropolis of Upper Canada. That community has a smiling aspect, new shops and houses superior in size and architecture."

This quote was wisely chosen by the Ancaster Heritage Village BIA  for the cover of their Heritage Walking Tour linked to the BIA home page. I love being able to click to a colour photo of a worthy building, read a bit of its history, and find out the current use of the structure. The future of our built heritage lies in thoughtful restoration and reuse. They can't all be museums.

375 Wilson Street (1848) 

I concur completely with the worthy Lieutenant. We spent a great few hours on Wilson Street in early September, while staying in Hamilton for a wedding. My only reservations were the inevitable infilling and traffic congestion (and speed) which descend on picturesque villages and towns - and destroy the very features which bring folks here. The Destination Dilemma. Park and walk is definitely the approach here.

Ancaster Old Mill on the site of Rousseau's earlier mill

The name Rousseau is long associated with Ancaster; in 1795 fur trader and interpreter to the Six Nations people Jean Baptiste Rousseau opened his general store in what was then Wilson's Mills (hence our walk down historic Wilson Street). The family was no johnny-come-lately; Rousseau's g-g-grandfather emigrated from Paris to Trois Rivieres Quebec in 1570!

From The Governor's Road by Mary Byers and Margaret McBurney (1982) we learn that the Rousseaus had mills, a store and over time, three inns, one of which stands today.  St. Jean was an "Interpreter in the Indian Department" and a well-respected friend of Joseph Brant.

He also married the same woman three times, but I'll invite you to pick up The Governor's Road for that, and many other stories about Ancaster and the historic southwestern Ontario communities linked by Lieutenant Governor John Graves Simcoe's 1793 wilderness military/settlement road.

beautiful restored/replica brackets

It's a sad fact that Dundas, Ancaster and Hamilton are all fused together now, linked by urban sprawl, confused by autoroutes. Only by seeking out the smaller streets and larger trees, losing the car, and walking, can all this history and loveliness be appreciated. Not so bad.

Old Township Hall 1871

Richardson Farmer Ashworth House 1872-3

Here are some more lovely views of this lovely old town.

The BIA walking tour gives a few details on some of them. The stone Georgian/Italianate 

house below is associated with doctors since it was built as a wedding present for young Dr. Henry Richardson. Fortunately, this home has retained/replaced exquisite roof brackets, unlike the Rousseau house, stripped down for fine dining.

Note the projecting frontispiece and (broken) pediment above the centre doorway with pilasters, sidelights and transom?

With a bit of detective work I managed to find out something about the stone building at left, the 1840's Marr-Phillipo house, and wrote about it in another post just now.

This Italianate (I have no idea when the colossal two-story portico was added - or why) started out as a one storey house in 1860 (I'm wondering about late Regency?) and was added to later by Dr. Orton, who liked a belvedere. You can see the difference in the bricks from here.

Hammill House (1830's)

This sweet little clapboard is the Hammill House, dated from the 1830's, once a grocery and butcher shop, then police office, municipal centre and council chambers. Spruced up, it now houses the Ancaster Heritage Village BIA.

There are great displays of historic and architectural interest.  But my favourite detail is the heavy mouldings and eared trim around doors and windows.

Tisdale House (1806)

The plain little pale yellow house between the Hammill House and the Old Township Hall is Ancaster village's oldest house. It was moved to this location, and houses Ancaster Community Police behind its prim front, through its exquisite pilastered and corniced doorway with curvilinear patterned sidelights.









I don't often warm to churches, but this is such an impressive English village kind of building. It was replaced in 1869 after a fire; the parish was founded in 1816 so the churchyard contains memorial stones from the early years of the century. St. John's Anglican is nothing but impressive on its hilltop site, looking beneficently down on old Ancaster.



To close with a nod to modern heritage, does this school not take you back? Some of you? It was built in 1947, and to judge from the condition of the grounds, and the sign advertising a public meeting to debate the sale of these surplus property, this little school with its great glass block and multicolour 50's brick is on its way out.

To judge by the way the sign's been knocked over on the grass, the debate has been heated and protracted. Indeed - in July the Hamilton Spectator announced the sale of the property for an arts and culture centre.

Surprised? Guessed condos? Me too.

They don't make churches like they used to.
Ryerson United Church 1959-60. Variation on the Perpendicular Gothic.