55 Years Ago - Glessner House Fights For Its Life

Fifty-five years ago today, the Chicago Tribune ran a story sounding the alarm that the nationally and internationally significant Glessner House was up for sale and facing an uncertain future. Given the fact that most of the houses along Prairie Avenue had been torn down during the previous decades when the area transformed from a high-class residential neighborhood into a manufacturing district, the alarm was warranted. Businesses operating nearby, mostly connected with the printing and publishing industries, were still buying houses and tearing them down to provide more parking for their employees. (The two houses immediately south of Glessner House would be torn down in 1968 specifically for that purpose). Many people would have seen the 75 by 176 foot lot upon which the Glessner House stood, to have more value than the house itself.

The sale of the house by the Graphic Arts Technical Foundation (GATF), which had occupied the building since 1945, did not come as a surprise to those in the architectural and emerging preservation communities. In November 1963, a meeting took place between two senior staff members of GATF and Wilbert R. Hasbrouck (Chairman of the Preservation Committee of the Chicago Chapter of the American Institute of Architects), Joseph Benson (Secretary of the Commission on Chicago Architectural Landmarks), and Marian Despres (early Chicago preservationist and wife of Alderman Leon Despres, who drafted the city's first landmarks ordinance). It was at that meeting that GATF announced its plans to relocate operations to Pennsylvania and put Glessner House up for sale. Hasbrouck reported back to Jack Train, president of the Chicago Chapter AIA:

"Regardless of what final use is made of this building, I feel the AIA must take a major advisory role in its disposition. The Glessner House is too important a structure to go the way of the Garrick." (This was a reference to Adler & Sullivan's Garrick Theater, razed in 1961 after a significant battle that helped galvanize Chicago's early preservationists. A number of the individuals who fought to save the Garrick played a leading role in successfully saving Glessner House).

Turning back the clock 55 years to January 31, 1965, if you were to have picked up the morning edition of the Chicago Tribune and turned to page S3, you would have read the following article about the house. It may well have also been your first introduction to John and Frances Glessner, whose names had slipped into obscurity after their deaths three decades earlier.

Old Show Place on Prairie Avenue Haunted by Shaky Future; Now for Sale
Architects Hope to Make It a Museum
by Sylvia Shepherd

Granite block old home of late J. J. Glessner at 1800 Prairie av.,
was built in 1886 and has survived decline of once-fashionable
south side gold coast. Fate of house worries history-
conscious Chicagoans.

The uncertain destiny of the old J. J. Glessner house, built almost 80 years ago at 1800 Prairie av., has aroused the fears of several history-conscious Chicagoans.

The house, one of the show places of the original south side gold coast, now holds the Graphic Arts Technical Foundation. This research organization has moved most of its operations to a new headquarters in Pittsburgh and wants to sell the Glessner building.

Richardson's Last Work
William Hasbrook (sic), one of those interested in preserving the building, said the Glessner house "would make a small museum of architecture." Hasbrook is chairman of the committee for preservation of historical buildings for the local chapter of the American Institute of Architects.

Hasbrook believes the house is the only remaining residential work of the late Henry Hobson Richardson, famous Boston architect, in this city.

"Chicago is known thruout the world for architecture - not only of the past but of the present," said Hasbrook. "Material on architectural history is scattered around the city - in bits and pieces. This house could become a central spot for this material."

Mrs. Leon DePres (sic) wife of the 5th ward alderman, said, "Anything could happen to the building. There's no protection for it."

"We must see what we can do to preserve it," she added. "It could be a future attraction for tourists."

A City Landmark
Also interested in preserving the building is the Commission on Chicago Architectural Landmarks. Joseph Benson, commission secretary, said his group is "very concerned" about the fate of the house, which is one of 39 official landmarks in the city.

Richardson built the house in 1886 in what came to be known as "Richardsonian Romanesque." Because the architect believed beauty to be found in strength, granite blocks were used in the construction. He died three weeks after completing the house.

John J. Glessner was born in Zanesville, O., and came to this city as a young man. When International Harvester company was founded in 1902, he was a founder and became a vice president.

Glessner and his wife, Frances, were social leaders for 60 years. The house was famous for architectural significance and hospitality.

Glessner was a board president of Rush Medical college, a director of the Chicago Relief and Aid society, and a trustee of the Chicago Orphan asylum, the Chicago Orchestral association, and the Art Institute.

Society Rendezvous
His wife's Monday Morning Reading class was a feature of south side society for 50 years. Most of the fashionable women of the city began gathering at 10:30 a.m. until a class of more than 40 was assembled in the long library.

It was to their home that the Chicago Symphony orchestra members came once a year for a party.

Mrs. Glessner once was quoted as saying, "For all its granite, this home is wonderfully elastic. You can squeeze as many as you want into it."

In 1924, Glessner announced that the house would be given to the American Institute of Architects after the deaths of himself and his wife. His will asked for its maintenance as "a museum, library, gallery, and educational institution, including a school of design for legitimate architectural assemblages."

Rich Social Background
By 1925, a reporter wrote, "The antennae of business have encroached all round and about the dignified granite residence." Already changing was the neighborhood which once housed the George M. Pullmans, the Marshall Fields, T. B. Blackstone, the elder Philip Armours, and Dr. Frank Billings.

Mrs. Glessner died in 1932 at the age of 84. Her husband died just before his 93d birthday in 1936.

Conforming to the request in Glessner's will was deemed too costly in 1937 by the A. I. A., which estimated remodeling expenses at $25,000. It returned the home to the Glessner estate, whose heirs decided in 1938 to give the building to the Armour Institute of Technology.

"It is still in excellent shape" said Hasbrook, "and a choice piece of property."

Corrections to 1965 article:

• Henry Hobson Richardson died in April 1886, three weeks after completing the design for the house. The house itself was completed in time for the Glessners to move in on December 1, 1887.
• The Glessners invited the entire Chicago Symphony Orchestra for dinner on three occasions. Smaller dinners for the music director, selected orchestra members, and visiting soloists were held frequently.

Time Travelers Program Resumes for Second Year

On Tuesday March 6, 2018, Glessner House Museum launched the second year of its popular Time Travelers program.  Funded by a generous grant from the Society of Architectural Historians American Architecture and Landscape Field Trip Program, Time Travelers provides an opportunity for third grade student “detectives” from underserved neighborhoods on Chicago’s South Side to explore how architecture and design impact their everyday lives.  Students were divided into three groups appropriately named Sherlock Holmes, Encyclopedia Brown, and Scooby-Doo.

The program also encourages observation and analysis of buildings and furnishings; compares late 19^th- and early 20^th-century life with today; and demonstrates what the students have learned through a variety of hands-on activities.  A PowerPoint presentation sent to the teacher ahead of time prepares students with background on the house and the various people connected with it, including Glessner family members, the architect Henry Hobson Richardson, and members of the live-in staff.

Students walked around the exterior of the building noting such details as building materials (granite, limestone, brick, clay tile roof tiles, etc.), placement and number of windows and doors, and thinking about why the house looked so different from others on Prairie Avenue at the time.  They looked for details including the pair of carved granite ouroboros on the façade and where the architect’s monogram can be found.  The carriage drive introduced the eight servants who lived in the house, and how their living and working spaces were separated from those of the family.

A favorite room in the house was the schoolroom designed for the Glessners’ two children, George and Fanny.  Students indicated whether or not they would like to be homeschooled.  They had the opportunity here for a few hands-on activities including tapping a telegraph (just like one George kept in the room), hearing it buzz and learning how Morse code allowed George to send messages to his friends – an early form of texting as they said!  Students were also able to use stereoscopes to see 3-D images on antique stereoview cards.

Coming into the main hall, students had the opportunity to explore the many types of objects the family collected including ceramics and glass, as well as carved furniture, and textiles with a variety of patterns including dragons.  They enjoyed hearing how the Glessner grandchildren would slide down the bannister of the main staircase and try to land on the main hall carpet in the center medallion, which they referred to as the “blueberry pie.”  Many of the students quickly recognized the portrait of the “big” architect – H. H. Richardson – that the Glessners always displayed in the main hall.

In the master bedroom they saw several pieces of hand-carved furniture made the Glessners’ good friend Isaac Scott.  They asked about the fireplace and why there was coal in this fireplace, as opposed to wood in the main hall fireplace. 

The library introduced students to the Glessners’ large collection of books of which nearly 3,000 are still on the shelves today.  They learned how important learning was to the family, and how Frances Glessner held a weekly Monday Morning Reading Class for her friends in the room for over 35 years.  All agreed that the enormous partner’s desk in the middle of the room was the biggest desk they had ever seen, and there were mixed reactions to the bronze life mask and hands of Abraham Lincoln.

Upon reaching the parlor, students “found” the large Steinway piano they had seen in the PowerPoint presentation in class and marveled at the intricately detailed birds on the hand-painted canvas wallcovering.  The dining room introduced the idea of the extension table and how the room was shaped to accommodate it when fully opened.  They were able to peak inside the silver closet to see pieces that Frances Glessner made by hand, and they learned about the dinner parties where it took nearly three hours to serve and consume the eight-course meal.

The kitchen proved to be one of the most popular spaces in the house (and not just because of all the fake food).  Students were asked why the specific materials on the floor and walls were used, and what items were absent that they have in their kitchen at home.  They also enjoyed seeing the annunciator and learned how family and guests could call for a servant from anywhere in the house.  In returning to the coach house, they had the opportunity to walk through the large cold closet or icebox and see how the Glessners had a window put in there to help keep food cold in the winter.

Returning to the coach house, where the tour began, students were directed to several options for hands-on activities.  At the journaling table, they were given a series of questions, and they could record their favorite memories of the tours in writing or by drawing pictures.  A second table showed floorplans and using graph paper, the students were able to sketch out the configuration and types of rooms they would like to have in their own dream house.  

The most popular activity involved brightly-colored straws and connectors to create inventive structures. 

Before departing for the day, the students gathered on and around the curved porch in the courtyard, recreating the famous 1902 picture of Frances Glessner’s Monday Morning Reading Class.  A folder of materials provided further activities once back in the classroom including a word search and crossword puzzle containing terms learned during the tour, a floor plan of the house, and a Morse code message to decipher. 

An enjoyable time was had by all – students, teacher, chaperones, docents, and staff!

A Brief History of the Humble Window Screen

The light bulb, the telephone, the automobile, and the phonograph are all ranked among the greatest inventions of the 19^th century.  But what about the humble and often overlooked window screen?  Prior to its introduction during the Civil War, hot weather meant either keeping the windows and doors of a house closed, or opening them and subjecting the occupants to wasps, flies, mosquitoes, and a range of potentially infectious diseases.   In this article, we will briefly explore the history of the window screen, and then look at how they were used at the home of John and Frances Glessner.

EARLY HISTORY

Cheesecloth was sometimes used to cover windows as a way to keep out insects.  Being loosely woven, it allowed air to circulate, but it was easily torn, soiled quickly, and limited the visibility from inside.  Advertisements for wire window screens started to appear in the 1820s and 1830s, but the idea didn’t take off.  It was the onset of the Civil War that made window screens a household word (and necessity).

Gilbert and Bennett factory (destroyed by fire in 1874)

Gilbert and Bennett, a Connecticut based company that made sieves, is generally credited with the invention of the modern window screen.  The company’s business suffered during the Civil War, as they could no longer sell their products in the Southern states.  An enterprising employee had an idea that changed history – paint the wire cloth to prevent it from rusting, and sell it for use as window screens.  The idea took off, and the company made the production of wire cloth a major part of its business.  Homeowners would purchase the wire cloth and then nail it to wooden window and door frames they constructed.  The firm later introduced steel wire, which did not rust.

The firm of Bayley and McCluskey filed a patent in 1868 for screened windows on railroad cars, which helped to prevent sparks, cinders, and dust from entering the passenger compartments.   Screens were first advertised in the Chicago Tribune in May 1869, the advertisement reading in part:

“The annoyances of spring and summer, such as flies, mosquitoes, dust, etc., can be obviated by using the wire window screens manufactured by Evans & Co., No. 201 Lake street.  These can be obtained at fifteen to fifty cents a foot.”

Window screens not only made houses more comfortable, they also had a direct impact on health, as they kept disease-carrying insects out of homes.  Over time, the incidents of these diseases declined dramatically.  This aspect of window screens was considered so important that the Boy Scouts and other volunteer organizations would help communities install and maintain screens.

PAINTED WINDOW SCREENS

As was the case with window shades, artists soon saw the possibilities of window screens, which were basically canvases with holes in them.  Screens were painted on the outside, normally with landscape scenes, leaving the holes unobstructed.  In addition to being decorative, the screens were practical as well.  From the outside, the painted scenes blocked the view inside the house, providing a level of privacy.

Painted screen, National Museum of American History
Click here for more images from their collection

Painted window screens became extraordinarily popular in Baltimore, after a Czech immigrant named William Oktavec painted a screen to advertise produce in his store in 1913.  He was soon asked to paint screens for homes, and other artists jumped on the bandwagon.  It is estimated that there were 100,000 painted screens in Baltimore at its peak, many adorning the row houses with windows at sidewalk level, where privacy was most desired.  The screens are considered a Baltimore folk art and are still produced today, and a collection is displayed at the American Visionary Art Museum in that city.  There is even The Painted Screen Society of Baltimore, formed to preserve and encourage the art form.

GLESSNER HOUSE

The building specifications prepared by H. H. Richardson for Glessner house specifically include window screens:

“Finish and put up to all the outside doors and windows, the best patent wire screens, to have steel frames and hardwood runs, except one window over main stairs on 18^th St., one in library, one in Parlor, two in dining room and one in upper hall.  The window screens will be on the outside.  The doors will be made of 1 ¼” clear pine stock.”

Male servants' door at right, with screen door, 1923

It is interesting to note that the specifications call for the screens to be on the outside – an indication that screens were far from being universal at the time, so the contractors needed to be given extra instruction.  One will also note that screens were not put on every window in the house – the specifications list six windows that would not have screens, in each case in rooms where there were multiple windows.  

This bit of information relates directly to instructions written by Frances Glessner in 1901 for the servants who were to remain in the house during the summer.  She noted:

“When the weather is warm, open the windows and doors to court yard early in the morning and at about six in the evening – open only doors and windows which have wire screens.  Keep all closed from 9 o’clock in the morning until six in the evening.”

Screen door for the Prairie Avenue door, in storage in the basement.
Note the custom made wall brackets to hold the door.

E. T. BURROWES & COMPANY

The screens for the Glessner house were manufactured by E. T. Burrowes & Co. of Portland, Maine, the largest manufacturer of window screens in the late 19^th century.  They were sold locally through Robinson & Bishop, the western managers for the company, with offices at No. 1202 Chamber of Commerce Building.  In October 1893, the firm won the top award at the World’s Columbian Exposition for their production of wire window screens and screen doors. 

The company noted that “our screens are in use in the best dwellings in every city in the United States,” listing the homes of Thomas A. Edison, P. T. Barnum, General P. H. Sheridan, George Westinghouse Jr., and Grover Cleveland in their advertisements.

In the early 1890s, the company published a 12-page booklet listing the names of hundreds of Chicago area residents who used Burrowes window screens in their homes.  Listed were many Prairie Avenue residents including George Pullman, Joseph Sears, Philip Armour, and William Hibbard.  The booklet was illustrated with photographs of thirty houses, including the “Residence of Hon. Robert T. Lincoln (U.S. Minister to England)” which adorned the cover. 

The Glessner house was illustrated as were several other prominent South Side residences.

2720 S. Prairie Avenue (demolished)

2904 S. Prairie Avenue (demolished)

2838 S. Michigan Avenue (demolished)

1826 S. Michigan Avenue (demolished)

Next time you open your window on a warm summer day, without the worry of a mosquito flying in, take a moment to recall the interesting history of one of the most useful and practical items ever invented to keep our homes safe and comfortable.

Richardsonian Romanesque in Washington, D.C.

During the 1880s, architect H. H. Richardson designed four residences in Washington, D.C.  Within a five year period in the mid-1920s, however, all four of these structures were demolished.  (The façade of one, built for John Glessner’s business partner, Benjamin H. Warder, was salvaged and rebuilt at a different location.)  In spite of this disregard for the importance of these buildings, Richardson’s legacy survives in our capital city through a number of prominent buildings designed by local architects in the Richardsonian Romanesque style.  In this article, we will look at three of the most significant structures, all located on the 900 block of F Street, NW.

Atlantic Building

930 F Street, NW

The oldest of the three, the Atlantic Building, was completed in 1888 and, at eight stories, was the largest commercial structure in the city at that time.  The building was constructed as a speculative office building by a group of Washington businessmen, headed by attorney Alexander Thompson Britton.  Many of the 142 offices were rented to attorneys who appreciated the convenience of being near the Patent Office and Pension Building on the next block.  The eighth floor contained two large assembly rooms which hosted numerous important meetings including one at which the National Zoo was founded.  President Benjamin Harrison’s 1890 inaugural committee used one of the rooms for their headquarters.

The architect of the building was James G. Hill.   Born in 1841, Hill headed the Office of the Supervising Architect of the U.S. Department of the Treasury from 1876 to 1883.  During that period he designed or supervised numerous projects including courthouses, post offices, and other public buildings in Washington, D.C. and elsewhere.  Many of these are designed in the Richardsonian Romanesque style, including the Old Post Office in Albany, New York, one of several Hill buildings listed on the National Register.

Photo by John McWilliams for HABS, 1990 (Library of Congress)

The Atlantic Building was among the last to be constructed with load bearing masonry walls but one of the first DC office buildings to contain a passenger elevator.  A wooden staircase wraps around a skylit stairwell, providing secondary access to the offices featuring fireplaces with wood mantels and decorative tiles.  The ground floor, originally designed with projecting show windows, was designed for retail use.

A variety of materials are used to present a highly ornamented and decorative façade.  The ground floor retail space features a cast iron façade, with Sullivanesque-style flourishes including the name “ATLANTIC BUILDING” set amidst lush foliate decoration.  The second and third floors are grouped under a series of three arches, with recessed spandrels displaying a checkerboard pattern of two contrasting stones, a device frequently used by Richardson.  

The remaining floors are faced in brick with floors four through six grouped together under arches with richly decorated recessed terra cotta spandrel panels.  

The seventh floor is simpler with smaller single story arched window openings and two groupings of clustered columns.  The eight floor, the location of the large assembly rooms, is the most simple, and is set beneath a tall parapet wall with a large decorative center panel featuring the year construction began, 1887.

Photo by John McWilliams for HABS, 1990 (Library of Congress)

The building was in poor condition when it was documented by the Historic American Buildings Survey in 1990, including photographs by John McWilliams.  It was extensively restored in recent years as part of a larger development that includes new and renovated buildings wrapping around the corner onto 10^th Street, extending south to Ford’s Theatre.  It is listed as a Category III Landmark in the District of Columbia. 

National Union Building

918 F Street, NW

The National Union Building was designed by a devoted admirer of H. H. Richardson, architect Glenn Brown.  Born in 1854 in Virginia, Brown rejected the classical training he received at M.I.T. and instead chose to follow Richardson, a fellow Southerner, whose designs were “not limited and bound by rules and regulation.”  Brown spent two years as the Clerk of Works for O. W. Norcross, the firm selected by Richardson to construct many of his most important buildings (including Glessner House).  Although Brown greatly admired Richardson’s work, he did not feel that the architects who continued in the style were nearly as successful.  As noted in Brown’s 1931 Memoirs, “While all of Richardson’s work was artistic, interesting and cultured, he set a fashion in architecture that produced monstrosities throughout the country.  Not a single one of his followers produced an example worthy of notice.”  (Presumably he excluded himself from that evaluation).

Brown served for many years as secretary of the American Institute of Architects, and was largely responsible for the purchase of the Octagon House in Washington, D.C. as its national headquarters.  He also took a deep interest in the L’Enfant Plan for the city and his work in advocating the plan led to the establishment of the Senate Park Commission and their 1901 Plan for Washington.  A prolific author, he wrote the two-volume History of the U. S. Capitol in 1901-1904, and was also deeply interested in historic preservation, leading the restoration efforts at Gunston Hall and Pohick Episcopal Church, both located in Fairfax County in his native Virginia.

Among Brown’s other projects in Washington, D.C. is the Dumbarton Bridge, which carries Q Street across Rock Creek Park between Dupont Circle and Georgetown.  The bridge, completed in 1915, was inspired by a Roman aqueduct and is one of numerous projects by Brown to be listed on the National Register. 

The National Union Building was constructed in 1890 for the National Union Fire Insurance Company, which occupied the structure until after World War II.   Given the original owner, it is not surprising that the structure was constructed using a fireproof steel frame, combined with brick bearing walls.   Although the building is quite narrow, its façade measuring only 26 feet across, the use of rusticated stone and design elements spanning more than one story give it a commanding presence on the street.

The first two stories are combined under a pair of large arches set atop three pilasters with richly ornamented capitals, the center one of which features an owl set amongst the foliage.  Most noticeable is the pair of recessed spandrels featuring six-petalled flowers composed of stones in contrasting colors.  The effect is reminiscent of similar flowers seen on the façade of Richardson’s Austin Hall at Harvard, which also features the checkerboard stone patterning copied for the Atlantic Building.  

Floors three and four, set beneath a huge panel reading “NATIONAL UNION BUILDING,” are united by two-story groupings of clustered columns at either end, framing slightly bowed ribbon windows.  The remaining floors feature smaller windows expressing the four bays, the sixth floor window openings set beneath arches and framed with engaged columns, a treatment similar to Richardson’s Allegheny County Courthouse.  Set above the sixth floor is a row of sixteen small windows illuminating the attic, set beneath a decorative cornice.   

The west side of the building, facing into an alley, features a brick-faced oriel window extending from floors two through six.  The interior of the building was designed with tiled vestibules on the east side of each floor, with all of the offices facing west, accessed by an open cage elevator and a wide metal staircase. 

Washington Loan & Trust Company Building

900 F Street, NW

This building, the largest of the three, has maintained a commanding presence over the intersection of F and 9^th Streets since it was completed in 1891 for Washington’s largest and oldest trust company.  The architect was James G. Hill, the same architect who designed the Atlantic Building (see above).  Given the stylistic similarities with Adler & Sullivan’s Auditorium Building in Chicago, completed just two years earlier, one can’t help but assume Hill was familiar with that iconic building and used it as inspiration.

The original building for the Trust Company was considerably smaller than the current structure, extending only four bays along F Street.  When six additional bays were added in 1926-1927 under the direction of architect Arthur B. Heaton, every element of the original design was replicated exactly, forming an overall seamless composition. 

Classified as a Category II Landmark in the District of Columbia and listed on the National Register, the building is one of the very finest Richardsonian Romanesque buildings in the capital city.  Faced in rusticated gray granite, the façade extends nine bays along 9^th Street, where one can sense the rhythm of the fenestration, set into four distinct sections.  

The ground floor windows and doorways are set beneath huge arches with a row of simple unadorned transomed-windows above, all set beneath a belt-course with dentil trim.  The four floors above are grouped under arched arcades, highlighted with delicate colonettes at the piers.  These four floors are especially reminiscent of the Auditorium Building design.  The third section consists of two additional floors with simpler pairs of double hung windows set beneath another course of bolder dentil trim.  The upper most floor features windows set beneath arches with pairs of columns forming the piers, all set beneath another row of dentil trim and a dentated cornice.

In later years, the building was occupied by Riggs Bank.  It now houses a Courtyard by Marriott hotel and brew pub.

Together these three buildings provide an outstanding opportunity to experience how architects perpetuated the Richardsonian Romanesque style in the years immediately following the architect’s death in 1886.  As a grouping, they also provide a well-preserved visual reminder of the late 19^th-century period in Washington, D.C.’s architectural history.

Heating Glessner House - Then and Now

As the cold winter winds descend upon our city, we are provided with an opportunity to reflect upon how our forefathers kept warm.  The Glessners’ home, known for its modern design by H. H. Richardson, was also modern in terms of the technology it employed, including, for its day, a state-of-the-art heating system. 

It is appropriate to reflect back upon the historic heating system of the house at this time, as the museum is currently having a 21^st century state-of-the-art geothermal system installed.  For the past four weeks, crews have been working to dig two 500 wells in the courtyard, and to connect those wells to an elaborate system which will provide not only heating, but for the first time in the house, cooling and humidity control.  Extensive new insulated duct work is being installed to maximize the efficiency of the system and to take into account condensation that could occur during the cooling season.  This initial phase of the system will handle the first zone in the building which includes the parlor, dining room, kitchen wing, and adjacent servants’ hallways.  As funds become available, seven additional zones will be brought on line, ultimately resulting in the entire building being services by the geothermal system.  For more information on the new system being installed, read the current article at the Historecycle website. 

ORIGINAL HEATING SYSTEM

Although little remains of the original heating system other than register covers, the museum is fortunate to possess the “Specifications for a combined direct and indirect radiating, two pipe, low pressure, gravity return Steam Heating and Ventilating Apparatus for dwelling for Mr. J. J. Glessner, 18^th St. and Prairie Ave.” prepared in 1886 by Richardson’s office.  The handwritten document is nine pages long, and details every component of the system from the boiler to the trimmings, and ducts to registers. 

The 20 horse power locomotive fire box boiler was located in the cellar beneath the north half of the coach house.  Of the system, John Glessner said in his 1923 “The Story of a House”:

“The heating is from the furnace room under the garage (formerly called the Coach House), thus avoiding the dust and dirt and noise of coal and ashes in the house – a hot water system it is, admirable for the time when it was put in.”

The system was a combination of direct and indirect radiation.    With direct radiation, the furnace would heat the hot water and the gravity system would then take the heated water to the eventual destination (hot water is lighter than cold water).  Rooms heated with radiators included the school room (shown above – the radiator is behind the large brass cover on the north wall); the butler’s pantry, and the first floor toilet room; and three male servants’ bedrooms on the second floor over the stable.  The radiator in the butler’s pantry served the double purpose of radiation and plate warmer.  The plate warmer closet was lined with tin and furnished with perforated, adjustable galvanized iron shelves. 

The balance of the house was heated by indirect radiation or what is known as convection (gravity flow system).  It’s the same as in the hot water system except the air is being heated which will then flow through the supply vents and return to the furnace through cold air return vents usually placed near the ceiling.  This system was used on the first floor in the parlor, dining room, living hall, library, bedroom, two dressing rooms and bath room.  On the second floor there were vents in the four bedrooms, two dressing rooms, bathroom, hall, corridors, servants’ bathroom and conservatory.  There was also a vent in the carriage room on the first floor of the Coach House.  It is interesting to note that in historic photos, the registers are frequently covered over with a piece of light fabric, possibly to cut down on dust and soot (note the floor register in the image of the corner guestroom below). 

The indirection radiation was of cast iron, with coils suspended from the basement ceiling by heavy wrought iron hangers.  A portion of one of these units remains in place on the ceiling of the ramp leading to the cellar under the coach house (shown below). 

A gravity system does not provide the same level of heat that we are accustomed to today with forced air systems.  As such, the fireplaces throughout the house were still an important part of keeping the house comfortable, and portieres and pocket doors would be used to contain the heat in the occupied rooms.  John Glessner noted that in the dead of winter, it was hard to maintain a temperature in the house above 60 degrees.  As such, some years after the original installation, radiators were added to a number of the rooms.

The heating system was controlled by a thermostat mounted to the oak paneling in the main hall immediately to the right of the doorway leading into the library (visible in the photos above).  That thermostat was removed many years ago but a historic replacement was installed early this month. 

That thermostat (shown above) was manufactured by the Chicago Heat Regulator Company, organized in 1904.  Although not identical to the original, it is quite similar, and reminds visitors that there was, in fact, a central heating system in the house when it was completed in 1887. 

FREDERIC TUDOR

The Glessner house system was designed and installed by Frederic Tudor, a prominent Boston sanitary engineer and expert in ventilation.  Tudor, who maintained a Chicago office at 273 Dearborn Street, submitted a proposal for the work in July 1886 with revisions made at the architect’s request the following month.  Tudor was paid a total of $4,035.02 for labor and materials. 

Frederic Tudor, the "Ice King"

Tudor was born in 1845, the eldest son of Frederic Tudor, the “Ice King.”  The senior Frederic made his fortune harvesting fresh water ice in Massachusetts and shipping it around the world to places as far away as India.  The idea came to him after a trip to the Caribbean, and the first successful shipment of ice was sent to Martinique in 1806.  Frederic Tudor, the son, as a member of a Boston Brahmin family, attended Harvard College and was a member of one of the first graduating classes at St. Paul’s School in Concord, New Hampshire. 

Tudor received several patents for his innovations, and was well-known and respected both in the United States and Europe.  Not surprisingly, he had worked on a number of earlier buildings by H. H. Richardson including the New York State Capitol at Albany, Sever Hall at Harvard, the Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce, and the Allegheny County Courthouse in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. 

Following his death in 1902, The American Architect and Building News, for which he was a frequent contributor, ran a lengthy article about his contributions to the development of modern heating and ventilation systems.  A few excerpts from the article, published February 11, 1903, are reprinted below:

“Today is the anniversary of the birth of Frederic Tudor, sanitary-engineer and expert, well known to architects and civil-engineers through the United States and Europe, in whose death this community met with great loss.  Mr. Tudor was a pioneer in ventilation and sanitation of dwelling-houses and public buildings, an occupation in which he sacrificed his time, his health and his fortune.

“Some of his best work was shown in the Cancer Hospital and the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City; the Capitol at Albany; the Walker Building of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology of this city.  All these buildings have long been noted for their practically perfect systems of ventilation and heating.  The Cancer Hospital and Metropolitan Opera House are ventilated by essentially the same system – the former being acknowledged to be the most perfectly ventilated hospital in the world. 

“When the project of building a new Boston Public Library was decided upon, Mr. Tudor was called in to draw up plans for the heating and ventilation.  On the opening night of the Library the hundreds of people who were present discovered that, although the thermometer outside registered nearly zero, the temperature and circulation of air in the building were perfect.  Expressions of praise were heard on all sides, and on the following day articles appeared in the daily press, complimenting Mr. Tudor upon the success of his plans and system. 

“The vapor-system of heating, so-called, was invented by Mr. Tudor, and is to-day used extensively throughout Germany and France, sanitary-engineers in those countries giving him entire credit as its originator.  Only with the last two or three years have American engineers properly appreciated the value of economy of operation as revealed in Mr. Tudor’s system.

“Mr. Tudor’s services to his profession have gradually become better understood, and the public will no doubt in time learn to remember the name of one who was the pioneer in inventing and developing systems and devices for supplying modern homes and public buildings with abundance of fresh air and temperate heat, both essential to health and comfort.  As a result of seventeen years thought and experiment, he perfected shortly before his death a plan of low-pressure steam-heating, known as the “thermograde system,” which is now being used in Randolph Hall, Cambridge; Apthorp House, Cambridge; Hampden Hall, Cambridge, and the Beaconsfield Casino, Brookline.”

It is not surprising that Richardson and the Glessners would have chosen Frederic Tudor, clearly a leader in his field, for the design and installation of the modern heating system to be installed in their modern house. 

A Golden Opportunity

When the Glessners met with architect H. H. Richardson in September 1885 at the Brookline office attached to his house, they were extremely impressed with the space, and asked that he incorporate many of its features into the library of their new Prairie Avenue home.  One feature, however, was recreated in their dining room  - lustrous ceiling panels covered in gold leaf set within a grid of heavy oak beams.  

Dining room during the Glessners' occupancy

At first glance, the use of gold leaf might seem to be an ostentatious display of wealth, but such was not the case with the Glessners.  To illuminate their rooms, the Glessners opted for the use of wall sconces rather than large chandeliers suspended from the ceilings.  The use of the gold leaf was practical – it would reflect the light from the five sconces around the dining room and cast a warm light back down upon the dining table. 

Dining room in 1966, after it was acquired from the

Lithographic Technical Foundation

During the time period in which the house was occupied by the Lithographic Technical Foundation (1945-1965), the gold leaf panels were covered over with ceiling paint and fluorescent light fixtures were installed above the work benches installed in the room, which functioned as a laboratory for researching printing inks. 

In November 1989, a substitute finish was applied to the ceiling to replicate the look of the gold leaf, but using aluminum leaf and a French vermeil finish to achieve a gold tone.  Although the finished product suggested the original gold leaf, it did not capture the rich deep tone that can only be achieved with using actual gold leaf.

In August 2014, the museum was contacted by Naomi Lipsky, president of the Society of Gilders, which was planning to hold its annual conference in Chicago in June 2015.  As part of each conference, the Society undertakes a community project on a pro bono basis in partnership with a non-profit organization.  She was wondering if the museum might have a project for the gilders to undertake.  A once in a lifetime opportunity presented itself – some of the finest gilders from around the world would be gathering in Chicago and would volunteer their services to recreate the Glessners’ long lost gold leafed ceiling.

The details of the project were worked out during a site visit in March 2015, and The Richard H. Driehaus Foundation generously agreed to underwrite the cost of the 23 karat gold leaf made by Manetti in Florence, Italy – enough to cover more than 240 square feet of plaster.  

During May, repairs were made to the ceiling where plaster had long ago been patched following the removal of the fluorescent fixtures.  Following that step, all 36 panels were cleaned and coated with a layer of amber shellac to provide the optimal surface for the application of the gold leaf.

Michael Kramer

The crew of gilders arrived on Monday June 1, 2015 ready to go.  Led by project manager Michael Kramer, an average of 8 to 10 gilders were on site for six or more hours each day for the entire week to finish the project.  

The first step involved laying out the ceiling in a grid of 6-inch squares so that the 3-3/8” leafs would have a pattern to follow, with some overlap.  Once this step was completed, a slow oil size was applied with brush and roller the afternoon before, to the area to be gilded the next day.  

After drying overnight, the size was just barely tacky all of the following day, so that the gilders could lay the leaf of the books following the grid pattern visible through the size.  

Then the leaf was gently tamped down onto the sand float finish plaster using squirrel hair brushes.   

After tamping, the same brushes were used to skew the leaf, and to smooth it and remove the overlaps, capturing the loose pieces in paper cones.

The crew celebrating a job well done!

The project was completed on Friday June 5 and is truly breathtaking.  Once again, the rich gold finish of the ceiling reflects the light from the wall sconces, just as it was intended to during the Glessners’ occupancy of the house.  The museum is deeply grateful to the Society of Gilders for their extraordinary work in recreating this important design element to the house. 

For more information on the Society of Gilders and their projects, visit www.societyofgilders.org.