I was sitting in the Suite a few weeks ago, looking around, and I must admit to being quite impressed. With furniture mostly in place, pictures on the walls, mementos scattered everywhere, the place is really starting to become a real Victorian room with personality. This last is truly the key, because our quest is not so much to create a period interior (although that’s interesting in itself) but rather to create a period interior that reflects two very specific men: FDR and Lathrop Brown. Fortunately for FDR’s posterity, our president’s past is extremely well documented. The FDR Library and Museum at Hyde Park in the person of Bob Clark, chief archivist, has been extremely helpful in providing us with images that make FDR’s personal space come alive: pictures of the family at play, views of Springwood, images of the Half Moon at full sail. Not so for Lathrop Brown – his early life was mostly a blank to us beyond the wonderful later-life pics Pam Grossman, Lathrop’s granddaughter, and her husband Elmer dug up for us – at least until last month. Exactly as I was lamenting the lack of detailed information and photos of Lathrop’s family, I received an email from Teresa Izzo, friend and fellow history detective to Dan L’Engle Davis, who turned out to be Lathrop’s sister Lucy’s grandson. (Got that?) Teresa had found us through the website, and wanted to let me know that Dan had “quite a collection” of Brown family memorabilia.
Was I interested?
Is the Pope Catholic? How soon can you get here?!!
“Quite a collection” turned out to be a tremendous understatement: an unbelievable collection of numerous photo albums, stuffed with over a century of Brown family history from the 1860’s to about 1910. Here at last were the insights into Lathrop and his family we had lacked: their travels, their childhood pictures, their homes, all in a remarkable state of preservation. Some examples:
Lathrop’s mother, the former Lucy Nevins Barnes, about 1878, just before she married Charles Stelle Brown, who was then in the process of building a real estate empire in New York City. (Brown’s firm sold the land to build the Brooklyn Bridge, as just one example.) Later in life, Lucy Barnes Brown would go on to become the first ever woman’s amateur golf champion.
Here she is, ready for the links in 1895:
Lathrop’s Father, Charles Stelle Brown: (this pic courtesy the Grossman’s)
And the children:
Lathrop’s siblings in 1893. From left to right: Charles S Brown Jr, ’08, Lathrop Brown ’04, Lucy Brown, and Archibald Manning Brown ’03. Charlie, as he was known, went on to head the family’s real estate firm in Manhattan, which still exists today, by the way – Brown, Harris Stevens; Lathrop (Lapes, (or Lapie) to his family, as we now know thanks to the albums, would soon be congressman and presidential confidante); Lucy, who married artist William L’Engle, became a famous painter; and Archie, who became a well known architect.
The pictures run the gamut from formal portraits to Brownie shots. Below is Lathrop and Miss Lydia Jones, Long Island Sound, summer, 1903. (Lathrop, already with sufficient credits to graduate, would return to Cambridge that fall, his only duty to manage the Varsity Football Squad. FDR, also unofficially matriculated, would occupy himself with his two loves, one old – The Crimson, and one new – Eleanor.) The two hand-held Brownie shots, here restored, are humorously labeled “Before the Sail”:
and “After the Sail.”
I could go on and on, but you get the general idea: from the clear blue sky has dropped an invaluable collection of close to 1000 pictures that documents the lives of not one, but three distinguished Harvard alums, and that allows us to fill out the Lathrop Brown side of the FDR Suite equation in a way we never thought possible.(Not to mention fulfilling the Foundation’s charter “to preserve and document Harvard student life at the turn of the 20th century.”)
So, short story: we’ve launched Project Lathrop Brown. With the help of our summer intern Justin Roshak, and while we have the kind loan of this material from Dan and Teresa for the summer, it’s our intention to scan and catalog a large percentage of these photos, both for our own eventual use in the Suite, as well to share with the Harvard University Archives and FDR Presidential Library.
And that’s where you come in: after some heady months of donations earlier this year, funding has slowed to a trickle, and we could use your help! Project Lathrop Brown will cost about $2500, mostly in new digital equipment suitable for this kind of intensive photographic preservation and reproduction; in addition, we’re still about 30K out from finishing the Suite. If you haven’t donated before, or if you can find your way to helping us again, now’s the hour!
I’m delighted to announce that New England’s premier bedding manufacturer, Gardner Mattress, has agreed to donate custom mattresses for the FDR Suite bedrooms. While this may not sound like a world breaking-news event, finding a qualified company to make mattresses for our period beds had turned out to be quite a challenge.
Why, you ask?
As Gardner Sisk, President of Gardener Mattress explained to me over lunch today: “Years ago, mattress sizes weren’t standardized. You bought a mattress when you bought a bed, and it was specifically made for that frame, whatever its dimensions. Then, after a few years, as the support began to go, you called the maker, who removed your old mattress, re-stuffed it for you, and returned the same piece, door to door. You could literally go from cradle to grave on the same bedding.”
The Gardner factory in the 30's. Interestingly, custom quality mattresses even today are largely the creation of hand labor.
Hmm. Given what we today know about dust mites, etc. I won’t even comment on that…
In any event, true to period form, our two FDR bed frames – one (FDR’s) in high Eastlake Style, the other (Lathrop’s) in very early Arts and Crafts – were of two different mattress types, each different sizes, and requiring different support mechanisms. As Mr. Sisk carefully measured the intricate frames, and explained to me how they put together this period appropriate bedding, I became quite intrigued. For something so quotidian, it turns out mattresses are quite complex mechanisms with a fascinating history, and I’ve decided to take a trip up to Gardner’s Salem, Massachusetts factory to document the manufacture of our beds as they come together in mid-July.
Interestingly, the Gardner company has an FDR connection, at least chronologically: the corporation was founded in 1933 by Alan J. Gardner at the height of the Depression, and has thrived almost 80 years by becoming innovators of the finest quality mattresses and box springs on the East Coast.
Can’t wait to try them out! Nor can you, I bet.
Coming this July, to the FDR Suite. (Deo volente!)
Again I must offer apologies for being off-line for so long: the season dictates that the day job (landscape design) be all-engaging, and so this notice will be brief. But much good news: The FDR Suite was again in the New York Times; the manufacturing problems of the study wall paper have finally been resolved, and the final paper looks to be put up in June; and, most importantly, I’m proud to announce our first ever summer intern: Justin Roshak. The Restoration is finally sufficiently established to occupy the talents of a summer researcher, and Justin, who will be a senior at Hopkinton High School this fall, will be creating a database of all the Foundation items in the Suite (both for insurance purposes as well as for an eventual virtual Internet museum); in addition, he’ll also be researching the theater of FDR’s time at Harvard, to give us a better idea of how undergraduates of that era engaged in amusement. Lest any of you wonder why our first intern is a high school student, suffice it to say that Justin (son of Jen Childs ’86) has been an active participant in the project’s research for the last two years. Avidly interested in history, Justin put together all the references to the Suite in FDR’s letters that you now see online, in addition to the references to student activities. Oh, and did we mention he just received perfect SAT scores? (Way to go Justin!) Perhaps he will grace the Harvard class of 2015, who knows? But for the summer, he’s ours, and he’ll be a great asset.
This internship program, by the way, is just the first of our scholastic efforts. As many of you know already, our plans call for establishing two scholarship programs, one to allow undergraduates to study and work at Hyde Park for the summer, another to provide traveling scholarships to needy students who otherwise wouldn’t have the money to participate in study opportunities abroad. I’ll be writing more about these programs in upcoming posts.
We have a new arrival in the Suite this week. A wonderful burgundy and gold late 19th-century daybed that looks as if it were made and upholstered for the room. As beautiful as it is though, it almost didn’t make the cut: I had initially passed on the purchase two months ago. We did, after all, have a perfectly fine divan in it’s place, a bit fussy perhaps, but in good shape, and did we really need to be second-guessing furniture choices at this stage? But then two events conspired to make me change my mind. The first was a revelation by one of our antiques suppliers that our initial purchase was in all likelihood the product of the famous cabinet maker John Jelliff, and worth many times the amount paid for it. (You can view this piece in the previous post.) The second motivator was the result of a whole semester’s research: Amanda Guzman, Adams House ’11 and one of our project investigators, had just finished putting together a photo database of all the student room photos in the Harvard archives. (Some of these are already online, HERE.) Once these pictures were assembled into a single group, rather than strung out through dozens of boxes in the Archives, we were able to start analyzing similarities between the various interiors. One thing I noticed immediately was the prevalence of reclining couches, like these two examples seen below:
In this 1880 view from one of the Yard dorms, a student reclines on a couch almost identical to ours, placed directly in front of the fireplace
This 1900 view shows a similar couch, covered in pillows as was the fashion of FDR's day. Yet another quest!
Sometimes decorative objects are the result of research and a bit of creativity; FDR writes to Sara in November 1900 "The butterflies are most ornamental." Lovely! Where do you find a Victorian butterfly collection? As it turns out, on Ebay -well, sort of. Period collections cost astronomical sums, so I tracked down a loose assortment of antique Formosan butterflies; then carefully mounted them on linen and framed them. They now hang over FDR's desk, and, I think, look "most ornamental."
With so many couches vs. upright settees in the photos, the decision to acquire the daybed and sell the divan became obvious. Which leads to a question many of you have been asking: How are we going about choosing what items to include in the Suite? Well, like any good historical site we’ve created what’s called a narrative, a basic premise or rationalization which defines the moment in time we’re attempting to hold. For the FDR Suite, it’s a weekend in May, 1904. Franklin (Frank to his friends) is away at a house party (he hasn’t had much studying to do, paying only slight attention to the graduate studies in history he’s about to drop.) Lathrop (Jake) is away as well. He’s been in New York since January, having, like Franklin, completed his undergraduate studies in three years. Jake had hung around the College this past fall to manage the Varsity football team, but later decided to return to New York to get his feet wet in his father’s real estate firm. All his possessions are all still here though – no point in being uncomfortable during those week-long graduation ceremonies in some hotel! In a month or so, after Commencement, two large moving wagons will appear at the door of Westmorly Court bearing staff who’ll pack and disperse the contents of four years of life at Harvard, readying the rooms for their next occupants. But for now – for this one sole weekend in May 1904 – the Suite is available for your asking, an intimate view into the man who would become the 32nd President of the United States. Care to stay awhile? Please do! After all, any friend of Frank and Jake is a friend of ours…
As for how we go about selecting individual decorative items, that’s a bit harder to describe. Except for the two dozen or so items specifically mentioned in FDR’s & Lathrop’s letters, we’re forced to piece together likely scenarios, based on the two mens’ noted likes and habits, guided of course by the wealth of information contained in the 50 or so shots we possess of student rooms in the period. So for Lathrop, his bedroom will have a sports and hunting theme, two well documented passions of LB. Football memorabilia, horse prints, the hunting tapestry we’ve acquired – over the next year we’ll slowly piece together a period collection that reflects a sporting gentleman of the age. For FDR’s room, the theme is travel, the sea, and collecting, all noted passions of the 32nd President. A model of the 1903 sailing yacht Atlantic (just acquired); naval pieces, travel scenes, stamps, stuffed birds. Again, the next year will present a giant treasure hunt tracking down and purchasing suitable period items.
And speaking of purchases, for those of you who haven’t donated to our cause yet, or are due for renewal, we could use your support now. We’re about to begin acquiring the textiles for the suite (draperies, rugs, etc) and need to raise about 10K to finish. Any amount you can spare will be most welcome. The form to donate is found HERE.
Thanks to your support and generosity, things keep marching along. Further additions for you to contemplate:
Just slightly crinkled from the crate: here’s the first piece of wall decoration in Lathrop’s bedroom, where the narrative theme will be hunting, horses and football: a ca 1890 tapestry depicting a Renaissance chase. Machine woven, this lovely textile measures 4 x 7′ and is in marvelous condition. It must say it really complements the lovely golden silk wallpaper behind it, or perhaps, the wallpaper complements it! Either way, it’s a terrific addition to the room.
*******
Here’s another view of Lathrop’s room from the study, giving you a better idea of the scale of the tapestry. As you can see, we are slowly starting to hang the 500 or so expected items on the Suite walls, by wire, as was done in the period. I can assure you that this hanging process is a real pain, precariously tilting and tipping at each turn, made all the more maddening by the knowledge that each piece will have to come down for the eventual wallpapering and then be rehung. Ah well, no complaints: better than bare walls!
*******
A delightful vignette: an ornate converted oil lamp (here shown with a somewhat miserable modern shade; we’re still looking for an etched period example), which keeps young Lathrop Brown and Harvard mascot John the Orangeman perfect company on a period parlor table. Above these, you may recognize from my March post the Harvard hazing print we ultimately managed to acquire, as well as another Charles Dana Gibson illustration “The Shore is Strewn with Wrecks,” in which the lovely lady you see striding so purposefully forward has just spurned the man barely visible in the distance, while cupids laugh amidst the hulk of an old whaler.
*******
Now the above is one of my favorites! The wild-eyed taxidermy scene glowering at you from its elevated perch is a bobcat standing over its prey, a just-killed pheasant. While this is not something I would necessarily choose for my home decor, FDR most likely would have: our president-resident was quite the fan of taxidermy, especially birds, and this piece accurately reflects the Victorian love of such tableaux. The taxidermy was done by a well known wildlife artist in Michigan (using entirely documented specimens, for anyone wondering), and was first shipped to my house for safekeeping until I could bring it to the Suite. My dog growled at that cat for days! I’ve nicknamed the bobcat “Jack” (from John) and the poor bird “Eli,” as in “Sons of…” Poor Eli doesn’t seem to be getting up for the count… Ah well, what can you expect from a Yalie?! The leaded glass-front bookcase, by the way, (Lathrop’s case) is another gem that just arrived last week. Made in 1900, it is a Macey stackable. Quite ingenious for its day, the case is entirely modular; you purchased the base and top, and as many shelving units as you wished: height was fully adjustable to room, preference or circumstance. Once we locate a suitable example, a desk (Lathrop’s) will occupy the corner where the trunk now sits. (FDR’s will be opposite.) I’m thrilled to relate that these two desks are the final pieces of major furniture we’re missing!
*******
Several of you asked to see more of the mantle time piece I hinted at in my last post. Here it is, in full glory: an adamantine Seth Thomas coffer clock. This lovely creature keeps reasonably good time, richly tick-tocking away, striking the hour and half hour with the most sonorous tone I’ve ever heard for a mechanism of its size – more like a tall case clock than a tiny shelf piece. The stone-like decoration is hugely clever faux painting, by the way – very much the height of fashion in 1900, but about to be swept away by the incoming rush of Mission style just a few years in the future.
*******
Three new pieces: on the wall, above the period table, four mid-nineteenth century engravings: “Scenes of Kent”; on the easel, an original charcoal, “Interior of 3 St James Place, London,” by 19th century artist Johnstone Briant; and the bamboo easel itself, an absolutely fantastic example of the Japanese-influenced Victorian design so popular in the last years of the 19th century.
*******
And finally, beneath the bronze plaque dedicated by Eleanor Roosevelt in 1960, the carved walnut bookcase next to the mantle. On it you’ll now find period travel guides, team photos, club medals and a marvelous period English pipe rack, which you can just see here, in the form of a ship’s capstan, bearing the copper label “Made from the timbers of Nelson’s fleet.” A souvenir of things to come for our future assistant secretary of the navy and commander-in-chief…
A thousand thanks again to all of our wonderful supporters – corporate, charitable, alumni & otherwise – who have made such progress possible!
My apologies for not posting any news for the last several weeks, but these have been busy, heady days. Thanks to the generosity of our supporters, we’ve been able to begin the process of furnishing the Suite, slowing rolling back the years to May, 1904.
I thought you might be interested in seeing some of the progress to date:
Above: the view of the study towards the French doors. To the far right, a wonderful brass period oil lamp (now electrified for safety reasons, as all our lamps are, but in FDR’s time, kerosene, as the electric outlet had yet to be invented) sitting coyly on a period Gothic revival parlor table. The small antique settee, purchased at a local flea market for $400 as a temporary holder piece in lieu of a daybed, turns out to be a John Jelliff!, estimated to be worth ten times that amount. To the left of this remarkable find, a period marble topped sofa table, (quite rare for the time) and the two new Morris Chairs handcrafted by Lary Shaffer this past summer. On the mantel, medals on museum loan from the kind family of Chester Robinson, ’04 (that’s 1904 for all you newbies); along with an elaborate 1900 adamantine coffer clock (with a marvelously deep, resonant chime, bong, bong!) by Seth Thomas. Another nickel-plated oil lamp sits to the far left, and the dual gas/electric light fixtures, just restored from awful fluorescents, shine with their original Edison bulbs. The walls are still carrying their temporary coat of paint, as we’ve had yet another hiccup with the re-created wall paper. Once that’s resolved, we’ll start hanging pictures. Period draperies are also in development. The ornate little table between the windows is actually the sole piece of furniture in the Suite we can situate with absolute certainty: “The book-case turned out to be just ½ inch too wide for the space, & it was the narrowest I could get. I have got a beautiful table & it looks very well between the two front windows.” FDR to Sara, 2.18.01. Ours looks “very well” too, don’t you think?
Here’s the view looking the other direction. Our recently restored 1899 Ivers & Pond piano (“Our piano is coming tomorrow, $40 for the year which is $10 off the regular price. It is a very nice one and of good tone.” FDR to Sara 11.23.00) carries a collection of period prints, including a lovely Piranesi view of the Arch of Septimius Severus in Rome. Below the FDR Memorial plaque, dedicated by Eleanor in 1960, a Victorian glass fronted bookcase, which just arrived last week, slowly fills with period books and memorabilia.
The SW corner of “FDR’s” bedroom as seen from the door to the study. (We actually don’t know who slept where, so we’ve assigned FDR to the south bedroom, which is slightly bigger but lacks a closet, and Lathrop to the north, principally because the furniture selected to match their rooms’ narrative works better that way.) In the photo above, a late 19th century railroad trunk sits next to a burled oak Eastlake marble-topped commode, part of a three piece set, including a spectacular bed, purchased with funds granted by the Lillian Goldman Charitable Trust. The walls are now covered in pale green silk, thanks to the generosity of Kari and Li Chung Pei, ’72
A vintage hand crocheted runner protects the top of the piano; the nickel plated oil lamp illuminates an original Gibson girl portrait, made iconic by illustrator Charles Dana Gibson. A figural “Turks Turban” meerschaum (one of a growing collection of period pipes) rests on its side to the left of FDR’s famous “dog tobacco jar,” which he specifically requested Sara bring with her from Hyde Park in the spring of 1902. (No comments there!)
How this for a great E-bay find? A fantastic small oil on board signed R. H. Bowman, born in 1884 in New Harbor, Bristol Maine. Price tag: $20! This will eventually be hung in FDR’s bedroom, along with other nautically inspired memorabilia to echo FDR’s love of the sea. The decor of Lathrop’s room, done in dark gold silk wallpaper, again the gift of the Li Chung Pei ’72 and Kari Pei, will revolve around “Jake’s” fondness for hunting, horses, and football.
And lest we forget to be grateful, a reminder of how things were two short years ago – 2008, compared to 2010:
Our most heartfelt thanks to all of you who continue to aid our restoration efforts!
