Cumberland Homesteads

No discussion of historic homes on The Cumberland Plateau would be complete without a mention of The Homesteads.  Much has been written about this program, and I’ll try to provide some links at the end if you want to know more.  They are lovely homes and I stopped by the Homestead House Museum to get a look inside.

Between 1934 and 1938, two hundred-fifty homesteads were built just south of Crossville, Tennessee.  One of President Roosevelt’s New Deal programs, The Cumberland Homesteads was just one of dozens of Roosevelt towns.  The original vision was a village surrounded by twenty to thirty acre farms which would serve to house and educate a starving Appalachian populace.  While they left a series of picturesque farms, the program itself wasn’t overly successful.

The government believed that the mountain people were in distress due to ignorance and if they could educate these people then their poverty would disappear.  Therefore, the families who acquired these properties signed on to a rigorous program that required them to report their every action to the overseers.  Those directors would tell the farmers what would be planted (and when) in each field they tilled.  Not surprisingly, the independent mountaineers did not take to this plan very readily. 

There was constant turn-over and after just four years the funding was ended and the homesteads given over to those farmers who could secure independent financing to pay off the loan.  Sadly, the families had not been given a final price when they began the program; they were simply told they would work a certain number of hours and make a certain monthly payment.  The acceptance of these terms no doubt speaks to the desperate economic condition for none of us would agree to them now, would we?

A wood-framed village was erected to support the logistics of the building but this was demolished in preparation for a permanent downtown which was never completed.  The focal point of the city center would be a tower surrounded by a cross-shaped building.  This was intended to house the administrative offices and in the tower was a water tank topped by a lookout platform.  Fire towers were very common in that day and this platform allowed a clear view of nearly all the homesteads.  Today, Homestead School sits adjacent to the tower, but it was originally located in a wooden structure on another site. 

The homes were built on eleven repeating plans, as well as a few unique plans.  The architect, William Macy Stanton, lived onsite in one of the first and unique homes.  He was responsible for designing not just the floor plans but the farm, roads and community buildings.  The houses were built almost entirely with indigenous materials by both local labor and the homesteaders themselves.  As families arrived, they would initially occupy one of the completed barns and moved into the Crab-Orchard-stone homes as they were finished. 

Inside, the houses have a hand-pumped well in the kitchen that fills a holding tank located in the attic.  Some of the designs allow you to fill a bucket right from the pump while others only allow water access from the actual sink tap.  The houses do have indoor bathrooms, although that was not originally planned.  However, Eleanor Roosevelt, who no doubt enjoyed the indoor plumbing in the White House, felt that everyone should have an indoor bathroom.  Therefore, the architect re-drew his plans, carving out enough space for a small restroom.  The locations of these are interesting because we usually see plans with centrally located plumbing.  However, the bathrooms in these houses are well away from the kitchen, the hand pump, and the holding tank.  In the museum, the bathroom seems to have borrowed space from the dining room and the master bedroom.

The houses are generally three bedrooms, with one being downstairs and two bedrooms located atop a narrow staircase.  The stairs are open in some plans, but the museum’s floor plan has an enclosed staircase that is really quite dark and steep.  The beautiful beaded pine paneling has aged to a golden-red, and the beauty of the local stone is continued inside with fireplaces designed as the center of the living space.  Many of the plans have two chimneys to accommodate both the fireplace and a wood burning cook-stove in the kitchen.

The museum is furnished with 1930’s era furniture – and even vintage clothing in the closets!  The bedrooms are small by our standards today, but the full-sized beds and straight backed chairs are perfectly proportioned for the rooms. 

I visited on a warm and breezy day and while the horizon today is dotted with modern homes, the beauty of the distant mountains remains.  It is easy to imagine rising with the sun to begin a farmer’s day and being greeted by such a landscape.  These families had so little when they arrived from all over the Cumberland Plateau.  These homes would have been mansions compared to the shacks that many left.  In fact, the families did not complain when asked to first live in the new barns – they were new and well-built; the families made do quite nicely in them for a short period of time.

A government agent remained on-site until 1946 and the turn-over of homesteads continued.  As World War II drew to a close, returning veterans were promised priority in getting the homesteads.  This brought in a new wave of families eager to carve out a home and living from The Plateau.

It’s so easy to live right down the road from an amazing piece of history and never really see it first hand.  I want to encourage you to get out and visit The Homestead.  The museum at the tower and the open house both offer a wealth of information.  Even a simple drive through the community is a joy.

Here are a few links if you want to read more about the Homesteada and their history:

Great pictures from the 1930's including original pictures of homestead houses.

www.cumberlandhomesteads.org

www.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cumberland_Homesteads

Henry Home in The Sequatchie Valley

In 1947 my great-aunt Evelyn Key left her home on the mountain to live with her new husband, Hollis Henry, on his family’s farm in The Sequatchie Valley.  The Henry’s had already lived on their one hundred acre farm for nearly half a century.  Now, the house is over a hundred years old and is still welcoming friends and family. 

I really sat down to write about a treasure that I’ve received from this house, but no sooner started until I realized that in our series on historic houses this would be a great one to visit.  It is so typical of homes I’ve seen from the early twentieth century - and really for about fifty years on either side of this one.  The original part of the house consisted of two first floor rooms with a central fireplace and a kitchen in the rear.  At some point, a small bathroom was added and  there was even a smoke house that was eventually attached to the kitchen – presumably it was no longer used for smoking meat after it was attached.

As a little girl, I thought they lived in a big, fine home.  Surrounded by the mountains, I remember sitting on their shady front porch in awe of the rock walls and rolling green fields.  But looking at it now, I realize that the original house was really pretty small, especially by today’s standards.  The front room would quickly fill with a sizable family and with the only fireplace it would surely have been the gathering spot.  There was one bedroom on the first floor and a narrow staircase leading to the second story.  The two upstairs bedrooms would have had to accommodate all children and any guests that happened along.  However, there is a wide, screened upper porch that certainly made the upstairs feel a little more spacious.

Aunt Evelyn passed away a couple of years ago and her family has graciously handed-down to me a china cabinet that belonged to my great-grandmother (and Evelyn’s mother).   Now, I tend to be the keeper of the family-junk.  I’d love to say I collect heirlooms, but the reality of a family of subsistent, Appalachian farmers is not million-dollar Chippendale furniture and priceless works of art.  The things we’ve passed along were handmade furniture, chipped family portraits and single pieces of glassware.  And every one of those things is a priceless treasure to me because each is a part of my family.  A piece like this cabinet inspires me as I imagine my great-grandmother going to it for dishes to serve her family a home-cooked meal.  They were not a family that would have ever owned fine china so the cabinet undoubtedly held dishes the family used regularly.  One of the great-aunts remembered her mother having a pretty lamp, one of the only really pretty things she owned and when a distant relative admired it she sent it home with him.  I know that any pretty dishes were really rare in those impoverished homes and would have been treasures even then so they hold a great deal of value to me.  I don’t suppose you’ll ever see me on The Antiques Roadshow exclaiming, “Great day in the morning, did you say it’s worth a million dollars?”  Still, you can rest assured, this piece of furniture certainly is worth its weight in gold.

The cabinet is such a treasure that I just had to share it with all of you, but there were a couple of things that really moved me in this gift.  Obviously, it is wonderful to have a piece of furniture that at least four generations of family have enjoyed.  I was also inspired that even though none of my Henry-cousins were interested or able to use this cabinet in their home, they realized the value it might hold to other members of the family and instead of putting it in a yard sale or simply dumping it they made the effort to pass it along.    I can’t help but add a social commentary here because it seems like so much of our world is really self-absorbed and doesn’t think beyond what value an item might have to them personally.  Surely the character of this family reflects the values and teaching of Hollis and Evelyn. 

And that brings me right back to the house.  For the last century, it has been the social center of a family.  Hollis’ sister lives just down the road and his nephews remember regularly walking a well-worn path to the old family home.  One of Hollis’ own children raised his family next door and now one of the grandsons hopes to renovate the house and enjoy it for at least another generation.  It’s exciting to hope that these walls that already hold so many memories will continue to absorb many more.

The Imperial Hotel

Today’s historic house is a public house so it’s a little different than the others we’ve explored in this series.  The Imperial Hotel was built by General John T. Wilder in Monterey in 1909.

During the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Monterey, Tennessee enjoyed a thriving resort business.  After the railroad came through town in 1890, people began to ride the rails to this mountain top town where they enjoyed mineral spring waters, world-class dining and beautiful gardens manicured just for the tourists.  I would be very interested to learn what originally prompted these tourists but it’s not hard to imagine the rustic beauty of the mountain as well as the cooler temperatures those dwelling in the valley towns would have enjoyed. 

In those days, it wasn’t easy to get to Monterey, especially from the East.  There was no direct East-to-West train service.  Before The Civil War, the trip from Knoxville to Nashville went via Chattanooga.  Then, during the late 1800’s the Tennessee Central Railroad aspired to connect the two major Tennessee cities directly.  Unfortunately, myriad problems conspired to prevent the direct connection.  So, East Tennesseans desiring to relax in Monterey’s luxurious accommodations would have to ride to Harriman and change trains for the final leg to Monterey.  Interestingly, even people headed on to Nashville or other points west would have to make the same connection. 

The transportation difficulties seem to have had little effect on the tourists who came to Monterey in sufficient numbers to support four hotels in addition to The Imperial.  I say “in addition” because The Imperial never intended to compete with the other hotels in their resort business.  This beautiful brick hotel was strictly a railroad hotel.  She was intended to accommodate the train passenger staying over in Monterey, or the business man coming to town on the train.     

The Imperial had thirty rooms in three floors; there was running water and indoor plumbing which were nearly unknown among the mountain people living around Monterey in that day.  There was a dining room that was well-known for the food served.  According to this blog article by W. Calvin Dickinson & Charlene McClain , “One newspaper editor lauded it as o­ne of the best hotels between Nashville and Knoxville.” 

This was a heyday for the little town self-styled, “where hilltops kiss the sky”.  As automobiles became the more prevalent mode of transportation, tourists had many more choices where to spend their leisure days.  Monterey’s resort community began to decline.  Then in 1958 passenger train service was discontinued to the town.  Many of the resort hotels had already closed or converted to other uses for their rooms.  The Imperial closed shortly after the passenger service ended.

A chapter closed for The Imperial, but thankfully, the building still stands.  Left vacant for many years, it seems nearly miraculous that she is still there since all of those resort hotels have succumbed to the ravages of time or the spirit of progress.  Then, in 1997 a gentleman bought The Imperial with a vision to renovate and restore it and use it as a bed and breakfast as well as an event venue.  A whopping $700,000 was invested in the renovation.  Unfortunately, the building is again empty due to a difference in priorities of the city planners.  A metal-clad museum was constructed next door and the rear exit stairs of the hotel were removed.  That simple change threw the building out of fire code compliance and prevents its use by the public.      There is a  website here where you can register to show your support of the hotel if you would like to.  I have tried to reach the current owner in hopes of sharing some pictures of the renovation but have been unsuccessful.  If I am able to reach him, I will certainly post an update.

I am thrilled that at the very least this historic building has been preserved and may again be open for the public to enjoy. 

The Taylor Place

After a couple of weeks “off the mountain”, today we’re back in Clarkrange at one of our local historic homes. 

After a mention from one of my readers, I took steps to learn about The Billy Taylor home.  While I knew of the place, and certainly knew that it was quite old, I had no idea the wealth of history I would find there.  In fact, I can hardly touch it here so we will definitely re-visit The Taylor Place in the future.

While I knew this house had stood for many years down it’s lonesome lane, I now understand that this is probably the oldest house in Clarkrange and might actually be a strong contender for the title of first house on the plateau.  It seems that a federal surveyor was sent to what is now Clarkrange to prepare for land grants of the area.  This man built for himself a shelter in the form of a one-room log house with a low loft overhead.  When his surveying work was finished, he simply moved on to his next assignment and the log house was left behind. 

That log home would become the central part of the Taylor house.  I don’t have the exact date of the surveying work, and therefore don’t know the original construction of the house.  The dwelling began to grow as the resources and needs of its occupants grew.  The low loft would be raised into a full second story – the hand-hewn logs of that second story were revealed when cabling for modern appliances was installed.  Then, a room was added here, a porch first added then enclosed, until a home was created that would accommodate large families.  In fact, three generations of the Taylor family have enjoyed the house and today Ken Taylor is lovingly preserving and restoring it.

As a house stands decade after decade, she develops a character of her own, and a history known throughout the community.  We don’t know all of the families that sheltered here, but the community would remember one woman who they deemed a witch.  You see, there’s a cave very near the back of the house that has a natural fireplace.  This woman chose to do her cooking in the cave, no doubt taking advantage of the natural coolness and avoiding heating up the little log house with the wood stove during warm weather.  But that was unconventional and mountain folk are suspicious of the unconventional so they declared she must be a witch and she was cooking not supper down there, but potions!  Years later, Herschel Taylor would tear out the fireplace and chimney for his father allowing the staircase to be moved.  When the original stairs were torn out, a box was found beneath them containing a complete woman’s skeleton.  Who she was has never been discovered.  The skeleton was donated to Joe Lockhart who was in medical school at that time; he kept it in his medical practice and it would forever after be known as The Lockhart Bones.  Nothing gets wasted on a mountain farm, and that fireplace was recycled as the front porch steps.

Some of the changes to the house can’t really be dated.  The Fentress County History Book states that the Bradford family came to town in 1884 and built a house here.  However, this is the house they lived in.  So it would seem that at least a portion of their house was already standing when they bought the property and how much construction was done in the late nineteenth century is unclear.  Perhaps they were the family that enlarged the cabin to two full stories.  The historical marker for their daughter Kate says she was raised in a two-story log home so that would seem to indicate that not a lot of additional square footage was present during their lifetime.  Now, Kate Bradford puts this house in the history books for she would be the first female gubernatorial candidate in Tennessee.

At some point a porch was built around a cased-well.  A very innovative Billy Taylor enclosed that porch, allowing his wife to draw water without stepping out into the weather.  She was quite the envy of her neighbors for that convenience.  Billy’s innovation and forward-thinking can be seen in much of the house’s history.  An upstairs balcony, so common among houses in the deep south to accommodate outdoor living during the hot summers, is rare on the plateau yet one of Billy’s additions included such a balcony.  Mr. Taylor also built-in cabinets, something that was uncommon even in fine homes in the nineteenth century; there are deep bins that held flour and meal beneath ceiling-high shelves behind the paneled doors.  When TVA first ran power lines through the area, Billy helped with the surveying and negotiated a dynamo to be installed in his cellar.  I’m unclear how long the dynamo was used, although it was still in place when Ken grew up in the house.

It always seemed curious to me that such an old property would be located so far from the main road.  However, roads are always moving and sure enough there was a well-traveled road running right beside the house.  The rattling wagon wheels of that road gave Maggie Taylor a fright or two and led her to believe her house was haunted.  Billy calmly explained it was the wheels running over the rock outcroppings of the road.  Like the witch story, ghost stories tend to stick around and there are numerous such stories surrounding this old house.

The farm contained one hundred acres when Billy Taylor purchased it, and there is little indication that it was ever much larger than that.  The big barn so central to farm life stands adjacent to the house.  It too is constructed of hand-hewn beams and assembled with wooden pegs.  The signs of years housing working mules and then many pounds of drying tobacco are still evident yet it stands sound today.