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.

Glessner House Museum - the Titanic connection

Yesterday, April 15, 2012, marked the 100^th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.  In the Glessner journal for the following week, John Glessner noted that two of their friends – Arthur Ryerson and Lizzie Isham – were among the 1,500 victims of the disaster. 

ARTHUR RYERSON

The story of Arthur Ryerson is among the most tragic of all the victims on the Titanic.  Ryerson, who was 61 at the time of his death, was a son of Joseph T. Ryerson, founder of J. T. Ryerson & Company, iron and steel merchants.  He was an attorney in the firm of Isham, Lincoln and Beale (see information on Isham below) but in 1905 had moved his family to the East Coast, maintaining close social ties to Chicago.  Ryerson, his wife, and three of their five children had traveled to Europe earlier in 1912 for an extended stay.  Shortly after taking a house at Versailles for two months, Ryerson learned that his eldest son, Arthur Jr., age 20, had been killed in an automobile accident.  The family immediately started for the United States, embarking on the first steamship available – the Titanic - which they boarded at Cherbourg on April 10.   As they were in mourning, the family remained in their cabin virtually the entire time they were aboard.  On April 18, when Mrs. Ryerson arrived in New York aboard the RMS Carpathia with her three daughters, she now planned a memorial service for her husband (whose body was never recovered) in addition to a funeral for her son. 

ANN ELIZABETH ISHAM

Ann Elizabeth Isham, known as Elizabeth or Lizzie, was born in 1862, and was 50 years old at the time she perished.  Ann’s father, Edward Swift Isham was a prominent Chicago attorney and was a partner with Robert Todd Lincoln in the firm of Isham, Lincoln and Beale.  Fellow passenger Arthur Ryerson (see above) was a partner in the firm.  Ann was a member of Second Presbyterian Church, as were her mother and sister.  In 1903, Ann Isham moved to Europe and spent most of her time living with her sister Frances (Mrs. Harry Shelton) in Paris.  On April 10, 1912 she boarded the Titanic at Cherbourg, traveling to the U.S. to spend the summer with her brother Edward in New York City.  Tragically, Ann Isham was one of four first class women who died in the disaster.  Her body, if recovered, was never identified.  The family erected a memorial to her in Manchester, Vermont, where they maintained their summer estate, Ormsby Hill.  The exact reason why Ann Isham did not survive has never conclusively been determined.  It has long been speculated however, that she refused to leave her Great Dane behind, one account even stating that she was safely on a lifeboat and jumped back onto the Titanic to be with her beloved pet.  A woman was observed to have her arms frozen around her dog in the water following the sinking, but it is not known if the woman was Ann Isham.