Our Trip: Part 3 of 3: Boscobel (Jane Austen would love it) & artsy Cold Spring

     The bright morning began similarly, with me waking first and making some strawberry tea to sip serenely in the library.

    While upstairs, Lee remotely activated his stereo to play Mozart and Gospel music, which roused the household.  We pitched in making fresh waffles, omelets, and sausages.  Ron monitored the hash browns in the oven, and the coffeemaker percolated.

    After each of us enjoyed a luxuriously long shower, Lee took us on an excursion.  He drove us to an undisclosed location: a surprise.  We arrived at Boscobel, located in the hamlet of Garrison.  (Garrison did not gets its name from the nearby West Point Military Academy; its founder had that as his surname).  As a treat, Lee purchased our admission tickets: $12 each.

     Built in 1803 (the era of "Pride & Prejudice"), Boscobel is a cliffside estate worthy of a visit.  Jane Austen would love the house, orchard, gardens, and view.  Good vibes radiate from the place!

     Awaiting our tour guide, we explored the gardens, which are maintained by a local gardening group of volunteers.  Tomatoes, grapes, cucumbers, string-beans, cabbage, squash, and numerous flowers.  All of them are grown in organic and "historically appropriate" ways.  Seen below is the Orangerie: a luxury that allowed the greenhouse to have two fireplaces, so its pricey citrus trees stayed alive throughout the winter.

Seen below, I admired the espaliers: trees trimmed to grow sideways along a trellis.

     The amazing part of the mansion's history is that it was disassembled and MOVED!  I'll explain.  Despite being a forerunner of architectural style for 150 years, by the 1950s, American society ignored it and was ready to let a demolition company buy it for merely $55.00!  

     Preservationists started fundraisers and petitions to save it.  It had to be relocated.  Every floorboard, banister, windowpane, chimney brick, and doorframe was taken apart, restored, and reassembled in a less-developed property.  That's how the community preserved the building from demolition.  They were lucky to reposition it in an area that kept almost the same view as it had when it was built.

In fact, the estate is situated--overlooking the Hudson River--practically at the same angle.  It has the BEST view of the marsh wetland refuge and the river valley!

As you can see (above & below), the view is similar, after a century (and moving the house).

     Seen below, the sides of the mansion are covered in clapboard, but the front has tightly-fitted wood to give a faux appearance of masonry.  It was done to impress visitors.  

     Our docent was the most tailored that was saw, and she was extremely professional and hospitable.  She indicated the expansive use of glass in the house: a symbol of wealth in 1810s society.  The carpentry and marquetry is astounding!  It was carved and created from American resources.  Seen below, notice the delicate woodcarving that makes "curtain-like drapery", as ornamentation.  There are even bows and tassels on them!  

     Our guide indicated that most Colonial Americans lived in humble homes that would fit inside this mansion's foyer.  Few had ceilings that high, either.  (Consider the tiny Paul Revere house in Boston).  

     The Dyckman family has a long history in New York.  Dyckman Street in Manhattan is coterminous with 200th Street.  The 230-year-old Dyckman Farmhouse is a historic Dutch Colonial museum on Manhattan's 204th Street near the Harlem River.  It was built by a less-affluent branch of the family.  Eleventh-generation descendants still reside in NYC.

     During America's Revolutionary War of Independence, New York was famously full of monarchists.  The Dyckman family was a royalist clan, but they inadvertently helped Colonialists by stealing 20% of British money that should've gone to British troops.  Like Wall Street embezzlers, Mr. States Dyckman syphoned funds for himself and his bosses: the British Quartermasters.  It impeded England's war effort and helped the colonists win.  Maybe that's why locals didn't burn his house down, after America "won" its Independence!  After the war, his boss was summoned to London for an audit investigation, and he accompanied.  During 13 years there, he "assisted" the British government with other audits.  He lived elegantly and received large payments and a lifetime annuity for manipulating evidence to save other quartermasters.  As a war profiteer, he made a lot of friends.

     Like Sara Roosevelt, the Dyckmans were decedents of Dutch settlers, but unlike Sara, the Dyckman home is bright, cheerful, opulent, and inviting.  Boscobel was built 40 years earlier than Springwood.  Even Lee chided the comparison.
     The estate was named after the 1632 Boscobel House in England's Shropshire County.  Even though Dyckman gleaned his good taste from post-war years in London, he strategically bought furniture in New York City, instead of England... to show how the family wanted to shirk its "redcoat" heritage and support the fledgling USA.  Below is its most expensive piece of furniture: a pianoforte.  

     Two sitting rooms (a.k.a. drawing rooms that "draw" people together) occupy one wing, decorated in bright cheerful yellow.

     The dining room is elegant... occupying a timeframe between the 1770s baroque and Edwardian finery.  

     Seen above, the green "rug" beneath the table was their equivalent of a vacuum: it's a "crumb catcher".  Below is an ice chest, to keep drinks cool.

I simply adored the millwork and woodwork!  Look at all the details, even the oval window.  Such grand door-frames and transoms, too!

     The grand staircase allowed the family to situate an orchestra on its landing.  Guests danced in the large foyer.  Some of the balusters are iron, to ensure stability.  That was a "modern marvel" of the era.  

The foyer's floor isn't tile; it's "painted cloth", which was another amazing invention.  It was easy to maintain.

     The foyer's handmade wallpaper got its pattern by stamping wooden blocks of ink in repetition on the paper.  That expensive/timely method achieved vibrancy and color saturation.  

     All the carpets have seams at every 36" because that was the largest size of looms in that era.  On the second floor, thatched flooring was created by recycling packing materials (used to cushion porcelain during ocean voyages).  It was too good to discard, so New England dwellers used it as floor insulation, during winter.  That's thrifty recycling and frugal planning.

The second floor has one central "social" room: a library.  When all of its doors were open, it helped circulate air through the windows of the mansion.

     In wintertime, the first-floor rooms were closed, and the family lived in their respective bedrooms to conserve heat.

    With bedposts, the beds have curtains to keep people warm.  Above, you see a dining table, chairs, desk with candle, and a washbowl.  In another corner was a "commode chair" and a chamber pot.  

     Above is the master's dressing room... which was actually LARGER than FDR's bedroom(s) at Springwood!  

     Residents bathed twice, during winter.  It really shows how people lived entirely in their bedroom--as if it was a studio apartment--during the colder months.

     The cellar contained unfurnished storerooms and the flame-operated kitchen.  Food was prepared by laying it on the floor--fanning it out in front of the heat from the fireplace.  Food was roasted over the fire, water boiled above the flames, bread was baked in a box inside the hearth, toast was made near the embers, and herbs were dried against the warmth of the chimney.  

     A historical exhibit was the basement, and we enjoyed its paintings.  

     The family owned the house until 1920.  Thankfully, it was preserved, and we were grateful to see it. 

     Afterwards, Lee took us to the handsome and artsy Village of Cold Spring.  Lewis and I intend to return there, since the MetroNorth train stops at the beginning of Main Street (just like a classic small town).  Below are pictures of Main Street.

Notice the basket-like mailboxes, above, on the many colorful Victorian-era homes.  The area is beautiful!  (The Victorian era is named for the long reign of Victoria: Queen of the United Kingdom and Empress of India).

Handmade ice cream!  I had "lavender", while Lewis had "cookies & banana".

     Back at Wixon House, we played "personality games" and chatted.  I poured a refreshing Viognier that Lewis bought.  Soon enough, the sun began setting and splashing the rooms with angled light.

     As our departure neared, Lee suggested a gay-friendly piano restaurant across from his local train station.  He knows the gay couple who owns it.  While he got a table, I bought Lewis and my train tickets and then met them inside the restaurant.  
     My stuffed chicken had a hearty merlot sauce and wonderful smashed potatoes.  Our side dishes were huge: charred Brussels Sprouts, creamed spinach, and truffled mac n' cheese!  Lewis dined on clams puttanesca over linguine.  We had a fun time.  It was delightful to simply walk outside, kiss our friends Goodbye, and hop onto the next Manhattan-bound train. 

     Lewis felt delightfully refreshed, and we appreciated our days of fun activities, exploration, and culinary discoveries!  We wish that we didn't have to return to a city that is still full of squalor.  

We look forward to our next adventure.