The Old Murray-Dunn House in Mentor, Ohio

The first sight of the house on Mentor Road.

Some adventures are carefully planned; others just fall into your lap. The latter method was my introduction to the Murray-Dunn house in Mentor, Ohio. My stepmother Claudia and I were driving down Mentor Avenue, when we noticed a large, fancy and very decrepit old house behind a wall.

We stopped to take a look. Obviously no one could be living in a house in this condition, so we crept a little closer for a better inspection. Suddenly we heard a noise, the front door slowly opened, and an incredibly old man came out and asked if he could help us. We were of course nonplussed, and glad that he was not the type to shoot first and ask questions later. We told him how much we admired the architecture of his house.

He immediately became friendly, and started telling us about the history of the house and the surrounding area. Before he retired, he had a nursery business nearby, and indeed plant nurseries have always been important in Lake County, Ohio, in which Mentor is located. Mr. Dunn graciously invited us into his home to show us around and tell us more about the old days, and so we got our first glimpse of the house’s marvels.

Thus the matter stood for a while, and then Claudia noticed in the paper the sad news that Mr. Dunn had died. Since she has connections in real estate, she was able to get us permission to explore and photograph the house thoroughly.

There were three main areas to inspect: the large house, the old barn/carriage house, and the magnificent yard. Robert Murray, 1814-1896, built the original Greek Revival farmhouse on Mentor Avenue in 1847. Later, his son, William P. Murray, 1854-1918, converted this house into a summer residence in 1898, enlarging the house and grafting on a kind of Arts-and-Crafts architectural style, with a crenellated tower. Helen Murray then maintained the house and farm until the property was sold to Thomas Dunn in 1951.*

Near the house was a simple, semi-Gothic style barn or carriage house with board-and-batten siding, more in style with the original Greek Revival main house. In the carriage house was a classic car from the 1960’s, in virtually mint condition. This was Mr. Dunn’s pride and joy, and he delighted in telling us how it only had a few hundred miles on it, and he only took it out in the summer during good weather for a few short rides.

As imposing as the main house was, the most impressive feature of the Dunn estate was the generous 10-acre park-like yard, filled with magnificent specimens of often unusual trees. One of the Murrays must have been a plant collector, as some of the trees were not native to Ohio. A special part of the house was how each of the rooms was designed to feature a view of the spacious green yard with its large trees.

Here then is a tour of the Murray-Dunn property. Many of the outside shots are in black and white, although I never recall using that kind of film. Apparently there were two photographic excursions; there are small differences noticeable between the black-and-white and color shots of the same features.

The tower as seen through the front gate. The posts and wall are made of pressed stone, popular at that period.

The back of the house. The pressed stone was also used for the foundations of the added wings.

A view of the side yard, with its specimen trees.

A mature ginkgo tree with its fronds silhouetted against the barn. This may have been the oldest ginkgo tree in Ohio.

The barn or carriage house. You can just make out the vintage car inside, of which Mr. Dunn was so proud.

The working shutters on the barn and house must have been convenient when closing the house for the winter.

The tack room in the carriage house, eerily well-preserved when compared with the rest of the house.

Mysterious stairs going up to the loft.

The original Greek Revival front door, with added wrought iron gas lantern.

A better view of the Greek Revival details. Someone has "lifted" the gas lamp and door knocker! Note the contrast with the newer varnished porch ceiling.

A close-up of the tower.

The back door, a two-part Dutch door with leaded panes in the Arts-and-Crafts style. Lion's head door knocker beneath.

The intersection of old and new parts of the house, also showing damage and neglect.

This part of the enclosed front porch is something of a shambles.

A large hole in the porch ceiling, with a glimpse into that enchanting yard.

A black and white photo, but giving a better idea of the view into the front yard from the porch.

This end of the wide porch is better preserved. This must have been a cool oasis for guests on hot summer days. Your imagination must supply the wicker furniture and hanging plants.

The Arts-and-Crafts living room, the best-preserved room in the house. Note the sashes full of round bull's-eye panes.

The fireplace featured an odd slate roof, with cabinets underneath.

The bay area of the living room. Bull's-eye panels above, with normal panes that when clean looked out into the front yard.

The walls of the living room were entirely covered with tapestry. Another Arts-and-Crafts touch.

The basements in old houses always seem to be scary. This one, with its long enfilade of rooms, would make the perfect setting for a horror movie.

Houses like this were meant for entertaining large weekend parties, so lots of storage for food was needed, as evidenced in this corridor lined with iceboxes. That small window can be seen in the above photo showing the back of the house.

A walk-in refrigerator or freezer. If that horror movie had been made, I am sure those meat hooks would have played an important part! Note the flashlight needed so the camera could focus in this dark room. Even though some lights worked in the house, most did not, and the overall lighting was dim. Flashlights are the house explorer's most important tool.

 

Now we proceed to the second floor. Here is the walk-in linen closet, needed for all those guest rooms.

Very old houses tended not to have closets. Here a cedarwood-lined closet is provided, with ventilated shoe storage underneath.

This 1898 bathroom survived intact. There was a free-standing claw-foot tub opposite the sink.

Some rather severe damage on the interior. That television set reminds us of how long it had been since any money was poured into the house.

At first this just looks like a trick of perspective, but this really was a small door next to a large one. I am not sure if this represents the junction of the old and new areas of the house, or if the smaller door was for the use of servants.

A second-floor fireplace in the added cobblestone chimney, fitted between the dormers. That mantelpiece looks like new!

Sleeping porches were all the rage back then.

The littered upper hall.

The upper stair landing, showing the Colonial Revival staircase, an odd window in the stair wall, and a large, handsome skylight that must have been quite impressive when the house was in good condition. I do not recall into what kind of room those glass-paned doors in the hall led.

Lake County was (and is) the site of many distinctive houses. Claudia and I were lucky to have discovered the Murray-Dunn house, to meet the remarkable Thomas Dunn, and to get the chance to explore the house and take these photos. The timing was extraordinary, because shortly afterwards the house and entire property was razed. The land was sold for a car dealership which eventually closed, and now I understand it is the location of a Target store.

There are no vestiges left of the Murray’s once-grand residence, or of the expansive lifestyle they led in their ostensible castle. I think my greatest regret was to see that beautiful yard destroyed. We all enjoy restored museum properties, but buildings which stand in the way of progress will not wait forever. Visit them at the first opportunity, regardless of their condition. Did you ever visit a house or historic property that is now no longer there to appreciate? Let me know in the comments!

*This history of the house was condensed from information obtained from the Lake County Historical Society.

All photos were taken by, and are copyright of the author.

May Your Halls be Filled With Gold and Jade

“May Your Halls be Filled With Gold and Jade” is a common Chinese New Year greeting, and one that can literally become true if you happen to have a Chinese lithographed tin house bank like the one below. This object combines many of my favorite collecting interests: houses, toy banks, lithographed tin objects, and Chinese antiques.

This bank represents a traditional Chinese house, the type that can still be found in the countryside and occasionally in the city. The construction is of large bricks, with stone windows. On top is a tile roof with an elaborate crest and decorative gable ends. These fancy elements on real buildings are often picked out with colorful glazed tile work, as indicated on this model. A favorite detail is that it sits asymmetrically on its cobblestone base, thus giving it the tiniest of yards. 

Chinese New Year is under celebration in this tin house, indicated by the red papers, inscribed with auspicious sayings, pasted around the doors. These red papers are still to be found absolutely everywhere, on old buildings as well as new ones. Touchingly, even when these old houses are crumbling and uninhabitable, the owning families will return each year to the family seat and paste up fresh red papers.

From Handbook of Old Taiwan Houses, by Kang, Ruo-xi

   

The real house above in Taoyuan County (near Taipei's International Airport) closely resembles the tin example, down to the stone courtyard and lucky red banners.

 

On the doors of this bank are the single characters for Spring and Luck, as Spring Festival is the alternate and more traditional name for Chinese New Year. Here they are displayed right side up, but it also is traditional to display them upside down.

Above the doors is the banner hoping that the house will be “filled with gold and jade,” with the coin slot located conveniently just above. This greeting is still in frequent use; there are also variants wishing you “gold and silver” and even just plain gold.

The 'plain gold' version “A thriving business and Halls filled with gold”, on a transom in my own apartment, present when I moved in.

The two vertical side banners convey a specifically New Year’s sentiment. On the right it says, “One night joins two paths” and on the left “The dawn separates two years.” The word used for path, wai, suggests the kind of twisting paths found around mountains and rivers, thus symbolizing the preceding and coming years. Instead of the actual word for dawn, the adage interestingly employs the term “fifth watch,” using an ancient Chinese system for dividing time. The night, roughly 7:00 PM to 5:00 AM, was divided into five watches, with the fifth watch covering the period from 3-5:00 AM, which was considered the true dividing line between the days. 

The sides show several window grills of the type usually made from heavy green tiles. 

The back of the bank features a stone window set with vertical bamboo posts. The actual posts in these frequently seen windows are either stone carved like bamboo, or sometimes colorfully glazed terracotta.

When I was small, my father collected toy banks, both tin and cast iron, and family excursions hunting for these were my introduction to collecting, so I was doubly pleased to find this traditional Chinese example. Let me know if you ever had a favorite toy bank, or special container for saving coins. 

Chinese sayings often wish the recipient wealth and prosperity. Their presence on a coin bank helps to guarantee this by teaching the virtue of saving money. However good fortune arrives, here's hoping that your halls this year will be well filled with gold, silver and jade, in addition to peace and health.

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[I hate to distract readers with Chinese characters and accented transliterations, but since rough translations cannot specify the original sayings, I place them here for reference:

金玉滿堂        jīn yù mǎn táng          (May your halls be filled with gold and jade.)

福,   春           fú,    chūn                 (luck,  spring)

一夜連雙崴    yī yè lián shuāng wǎi  (One night joins two paths.)

五更分二年    wǔ gèng fēn èr nián    (The dawn separates two years.)

生意興隆 金滿堂  shēng yì xīng lóng, jīn mǎn tang  (A thriving business and Halls filled with gold.)]

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Gore Hall, 1838-1913—A Lost Harvard Landmark

 Gore Hall in an early 1900's postcard view    

Harvard's Gothic Revival Gore Hall is a stand-out among 19^th century college buildings. Built in 1838 by architect Richard Bond, this was the first building at Harvard specifically meant for a library. While Harvard possesses many fine buildings, many tend to the heavy and rectilinear, so it was a shame that the lively Gore Hall was torn down in 1913, on its seventy-fifth anniversary.

Gore Hall was named for famed Harvard alumnus Christopher Gore, 1758-1827, patriot and politician, who in his will left Harvard a generous $100,000 (one third of the eventual cost of the library). Gore is known to many because of his exceptionally fine Federal house in Waltham, Massachusetts called Gore Place, built in 1806.  I don’t know whether Gore meant specifically to build a library for Harvard, but the honor was appropriate, as Gore was interested in student welfare, was known to be scholarly, and had assembled an extremely fine personal library at Gore Place.

Christopher Gore, painted by John Trumbull (via Wikipedia)

Elegant Gore Place, Waltham Massachusetts (via Wikipedia)

While I have collected many photographs of Gore Hall, my favorite is the one below by famed Boston photographer George Kendall Warren, 1824-1884. In this very fine c.1860 architectural portrait, the details are crisp and the contrast is dramatic, with the silhouetted elm branches echoing the Gothic curves of the building.

Gore Hall, c.1860 by George Kendall Warren

Another early view, angled to show front as well as side (via Wikipedia)

The architectural inspiration for Gore Hall was the 15^th Century King's College Chapel at Cambridge University in England. The Chapel is a much grander building, while Gore Hall is more friendly and intimate, and in my opinion some of its proportions are perhaps more pleasing. Incidentally, this was not the first or last time the American architects would look to the King's College Chapel. While all three buildings created much different effects, the original building of New York University (built 1833, demolished 1894) and the Old Library at Yale (built 1842, still standing) do share a noticeable family resemblance to Gore Hall.

King's College Chapel, Cambridge, early Carte-de-visite view

Gore Hall was a popular subject for 19th Century Stereoviews

In 1877, Gore Hall had outgrown its storage space, and a large addition was built. While not quite as handsome as the original building, the new wing was important because it was the first library in which the metal book stacks formed the architectural structure of the building, actually supporting the floors and roof as well as the weight of the books. 

Cabinet view c.1880, showing the Addition

c.1900 colored postcard showing addition.

Gore Hall was specifically described in Henry James’ 1886 novel The Bostonians: “This edifice, a diminished copy of the chapel of King's College, at the greater Cambridge, is a rich and impressive institution… suffused with the odor of old print and old bindings…the high, light vaults that hung over quiet book-laden galleries, alcoves and tables, and glazed cases where rarer treasures gleamed more vaguely, over busts of benefactors and portraits of worthies, bowed heads of working students and the gentle creak of passing messengers…” (Thanks to the Library of Congress for pointing out this passage.)

Interior of Gore Hall, from a Harvard View Book, exactly matches James' description.

 

Gore Hall itself has been gone for more than 100 years, but its image still adorns the seal of the City of Cambridge, designed in 1846 by then Harvard president Edward Everett. The other image on the seal, the Washington Elm, only survived a few years longer, until 1923, so Cambridge is ironically symbolized by things that are no longer there—this presumably comes under the rubric of Progress.

Seal of the City of Cambridge, Massachusetts. The Washington Elm was not actually adjacent to Gore Hall.

In 1913 Gore Hall, having once again outgrown its capacity, was razed to make way for the current Widener Memorial Library, built to honor Harry Elkins Widener, who went down on the Titanic. Although the Widener is one of Harvard’s most important buildings, it seems a shame that they could not have found another site for it, and that no greater effort was made to save sprightly Gore Hall, by then steeped in University tradition.

Gore Hall under demolition. Structural stacks in addition may be clearly seen.

When tearing down this building, several of the spires were saved and installed at Appleton Farms, now a public park in Ipswich, Massachusetts. Another vestige of Gore Hall came to light when recently some repair work was being done to the Widener Library, and part of the original foundation of Gore Hall was excavated. 

Spire from Gore Hall on Appleton Farms, courtesy of Photographer Chris Rich

This final atmospheric image of Gore Hall that I want to leave you with will come as no surprise to those who recall my fondness for night postcards. The beckoning lights glowing within the building would not have been a feature of the library's early days. Look again at the Warren photograph, and note the high proportion of window space in the walls; during the oil lamp and gaslight era, the administrators were so terrified of fire that no artificial lighting was allowed, and Gore Hall had to close each day at dusk.

Gore Hall at Night

(All images and original photographs, except as credited differently, are the property of the author.)