Category Archives: historic house museum

Paying Tribute to Henry Clay at Ashland

28 Monday Nov 2016

Posted by in Artifacts, historic house museum, house museum, James and Susan Clay Era (1852-1866)

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1857

After Henry Clay’s death, his national historic-themed display at Ashland evolved into son James’s Henry Clay tribute display.  James and Susan continued the practice of displaying artifacts within the mansion for public viewing, but now the collection centered on those related to Clay’s life.  They honored Henry Clay’s collection by repeating and embellishing it with more of his own possessions.

Henry Clay artifacts

When Clay died, his possessions had been distributed among family and friends, the majority among his sons, and much of his historical collection was dispersed.  While most of his belongings would be kept in the private homes of his descendants, James and Susan followed Clay’s lead and encouraged public viewing of the artifacts they had inherited.  Virtually every Henry Clay artifact that they owned was carefully and proudly exhibited in the public rooms at Ashland.

Like Clay, they provided a view of the past—which was now Henry Clay in the context of America’s history—to the public.  This exhibition, then, separated their collection from other Clay family members’ domestic displays, and caused Ashland to function as something of a public museum once again.

Yet the Ashland house itself—newly rebuilt—was the most precious Henry Clay artifact James and Susan possessed.  Even in its new incarnation, it more than anything else symbolized Henry Clay and it served to envelop all the other artifacts.  Susan defended the rebuilding of the mansion specifically because of its function as a worthy container of Clay artifacts, claiming that the association of Ashland and Henry Clay would be better made for pilgrims to this “shrine” through the creation of a fitting edifice to “enclose the interesting memorials of the Patriot.”  The new Ashland mansion now represented and paid tribute to the old Ashland and was itself a display item.  James and Susan’s house not only enclosed a museum, it was a crucial element of that museum.

Italian marble mantel in new Ashland

As Clay had believed in the power of objects to inspire patriotism, so James and Susan did when they reopened Ashland, filled with artifacts “with which the rooms…abound…”  James’s inherited artifacts included the large painting of The Washington Family, re-installed in its original parlor location.

But not only did they exhibit many of the items that Clay himself had displayed, now the objects that he had personally used came before the public and became just as highly revered.  James and Susan obviously agreed with Henry Clay’s sentiment that tangible objects—those actually touched by the person—were especially powerful.  Clay’s personal possessions, especially those related to the great accomplishment that was the 1814 Treaty of Ghent, were now well represented; his ceremonial Ghent jacket and other items from his European trip symbolized his work as a peace commissioner and the larger idea of world peace.

On display in James and Susan’s Ashland: Clay’s Treat of Ghent jacket.

Guided by Susan through the public rooms of the house, an impressed 1857 visitor described these and other items:

I entered the study—HENRY CLAY’S library, studded with memorials of him—with feelings almost of awe.  I sat on the old, well preserved, old-fashioned chair, sat in oft by him…examined his writing and dressing case, inscribed ‘H. Clay, American Minister, Ghent,’ lifted his ink-stand, so long the fountain into which his pen was dipped when conducting his correspondence and compositions…Here are old tables and sofas as they were used by the Ashland sage…A tortoise case containing his gold spectacles…A circular gold snuff box containing a lock of Henry Clay’s hair and a lock of Mrs. Clay’s…A diamond ring of great brilliance, on his finger when he died… (Cincinnati Daily Gazette, 4 Jul 1857)

In the new Ashland, Henry Clay’s biography was put in the context of the larger American story.  His relics placed alongside George Washington’s sent a clear message about Clay’s importance and place in the national drama.  In the anxiety-fraught final years before the war, James and Susan in essence, through Clay’s legacy, continued his efforts to save the Union.  Antebellum Americans considered Henry Clay the Great Compromiser, the one who for so long preserved the Union, thus it was probably with urgent and passionate purpose that James and Susan created a tribute to Henry Clay that served to make his name and cause immortal.

The elegant rebuilt house and luxurious interiors as backdrop for Clay relics underscored Clay’s eminence with particular dignity.  James and Susan’s home would not simply be a family home with personal memorabilia; this was a public museum, patriotic shrine, and site of apotheosis and inspiration.

Paying Tribute to Henry Clay at Ashland

03 Tuesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Artifacts, historic house museum, house museum, James and Susan Clay Era (1852-1866)

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1857

After Henry Clay’s death, his national historic-themed display at Ashland evolved into son James’s Henry Clay tribute display.  James and Susan continued the practice of displaying artifacts within the mansion for public viewing, but now the collection centered on those related to Clay’s life.  They honored Henry Clay’s collection by repeating and embellishing it with more of his own possessions.

Henry Clay artifacts

When Clay died, his possessions had been distributed among family and friends, the majority among his sons, and much of his historical collection was dispersed.  While most of his belongings would be kept in the private homes of his descendants, James and Susan followed Clay’s lead and encouraged public viewing of the artifacts they had inherited.  Virtually every Henry Clay artifact that they owned was carefully and proudly exhibited in the public rooms at Ashland.

Like Clay, they provided a view of the past—which was now Henry Clay in the context of America’s history—to the public.  This exhibition, then, separated their collection from other Clay family members’ domestic displays, and caused Ashland to function as something of a public museum once again.

Yet the Ashland house itself—newly rebuilt—was the most precious Henry Clay artifact James and Susan possessed.  Even in its new incarnation, it more than anything else symbolized Henry Clay and it served to envelop all the other artifacts.  Susan defended the rebuilding of the mansion specifically because of its function as a worthy container of Clay artifacts, claiming that the association of Ashland and Henry Clay would be better made for pilgrims to this “shrine” through the creation of a fitting edifice to “enclose the interesting memorials of the Patriot.”  The new Ashland mansion now represented and paid tribute to the old Ashland and was itself a display item.  James and Susan’s house not only enclosed a museum, it was a crucial element of that museum.

Italian marble mantel in new Ashland

As Clay had believed in the power of objects to inspire patriotism, so James and Susan did when they reopened Ashland, filled with artifacts “with which the rooms…abound…”  James’s inherited artifacts included the large painting of The Washington Family, re-installed in its original parlor location.

But not only did they exhibit many of the items that Clay himself had displayed, now the objects that he had personally used came before the public and became just as highly revered.  James and Susan obviously agreed with Henry Clay’s sentiment that tangible objects—those actually touched by the person—were especially powerful.  Clay’s personal possessions, especially those related to the great accomplishment that was the 1814 Treaty of Ghent, were now well represented; his ceremonial Ghent jacket and other items from his European trip symbolized his work as a peace commissioner and the larger idea of world peace.

On display in James and Susan’s Ashland: Clay’s Treaty of Ghent jacket.

Guided by Susan through the public rooms of the house, an impressed 1857 visitor described these and other items:

I entered the study—HENRY CLAY’S library, studded with memorials of him—with feelings almost of awe.  I sat on the old, well preserved, old-fashioned chair, sat in oft by him…examined his writing and dressing case, inscribed ‘H. Clay, American Minister, Ghent,’ lifted his ink-stand, so long the fountain into which his pen was dipped when conducting his correspondence and compositions…Here are old tables and sofas as they were used by the Ashland sage…A tortoise case containing his gold spectacles…A circular gold snuff box containing a lock of Henry Clay’s hair and a lock of Mrs. Clay’s…A diamond ring of great brilliance, on his finger when he died… (Cincinnati Daily Gazette, 4 Jul 1857)

In the new Ashland, Henry Clay’s biography was put in the context of the larger American story.  His relics placed alongside George Washington’s sent a clear message about Clay’s importance and place in the national drama.  In the anxiety-fraught final years before the war, James and Susan in essence, through Clay’s legacy, continued his efforts to save the Union.  Antebellum Americans considered Henry Clay the Great Compromiser, the one who for so long preserved the Union, thus it was probably with urgent and passionate purpose that James and Susan created a tribute to Henry Clay that served to make his name and cause immortal.

The elegant rebuilt house and luxurious interiors as backdrop for Clay relics underscored Clay’s eminence with particular dignity.  James and Susan’s home would not simply be a family home with personal memorabilia; this was a public museum, patriotic shrine, and site of apotheosis and inspiration.

Living in the Museum

21 Monday Sep 2015

Posted by in historic house museum, Museum Era (1950 - ), Public Hospitality, Tours

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1950s

Many visitors to Ashland in the 1950s would never have realized that the mansion continued to be a private home.  This reality was downplayed—if not hidden—from public view for nine years.

Museum Director Lorraine Seay’s public hospitality was complicated by the presence of great-great-grandson Henry McDowell Bullock (1893-1976), who resided on the second floor.

Henry Bullock 1917

Before his mother Nannette died in 1948, she had granted him a life estate and provided for his residence at Ashland for as long as he chose to live there.  She knew that his health was weak.  His presence may not have been a cause for problems, but Henry suffered psychological maladies of some kind and his erratic behavior substantially challenged the museum’s operation.

Clay family historian Lindsey Apple relays that there are many stories about Henry Bullock’s antics: everything from shouting from the front balcony and shooting his gun to frighten children playing on the lawn to greeting a group of ladies at the front door with nothing on but an open robe.  During an ‘erratic spell’ he damaged oil paintings in the house with a sword.

Mrs. Seay and the Foundation had initially allowed Henry to conduct tours of the mansion, but he declined to follow instructions – preferring to do things his own way.  She expressed her frustration to the Board: “I tried to let him help show the house for quite some time when I first came, but found that he would not conform to what we thought was best…” (December 7, 1952.)

Henry was perhaps enjoying his role as proud descendant and imitator of Henry Clay when he conducted ‘unauthorized’ tours of the house after hours, including ‘off-limits’ areas such as the attic and basement.  In fact, he was so enthusiastic about welcoming the public that he petitioned the Foundation to open the house every day and night of the week.

Henry Bullock, 1950

He was also generous with artifacts in the home, offering to sell or give them away to visitors.  Seay found herself having to respond to an out-of-state visitor who had taken Henry’s unofficial tour and had been told that he could purchase a chair and picture frame from Ashland:

In the first place Mr. Bullock is not well and we do not want him to show people through the house particularly after hours.  Also, guests are not permitted to go all over the house – that is, upstairs and in the storage rooms.  Nothing in the house is for sale as in the future we plan to open the entire house and will need many things…I felt that you would appreciate a frank explanation of the situation. (March 13, 1953.)

Throughout the 1950s, the public and private realms clashed within the very walls of Ashland.   Public interests (represented by the Foundation and Mrs. Seay) came up against the private interests of the family (represented by Henry Bullock).  Henry’s mother’s dual desire to provide the public access – while providing her son a home – in a way prompted the struggle.  But Henry’s enthusiasm, zealous generosity, and unrestrained accommodation inevitably went too far for Mrs. Seay and the Foundation.

Henry’s unwillingness to comply with the museum’s rules may have arisen from his mental state, but may also have been due to the fact that, for most of his life, Ashland had been his private home and he naturally wanted some level of control over his private residence.  Perhaps the entire mansion—not just his second-floor apartment—still seemed his private domain.  Now a middle-aged man, he understandably thought it his right to do as he pleased there.

Henry Bullock, 1938

Mrs. Seay grew exasperated at some of Henry’s efforts at control.  Refusing to use the modern gas furnace, he would not turn the upstairs portion on, causing the downstairs portion to become “overworked” heating the entire mansion.  During the first three years that Ashland was open to the public, Mrs. Seay and the caretaker had no keys to the mansion and relied on Henry to open the doors for them each day.  But he refused to abide by daylight saving time, thus for much of the year his schedule varied by one hour, which resulted in “a great deal of confusion”  for Mrs. Seay.  The Foundation Board voted to give Mrs. Seay and the caretaker their own keys.

Henry’s problematic actions inevitably thwarted his freedom.  After giving tours during off-hours and in off-limits areas, the Foundation prohibited him from doing so.  After offering or giving away artifacts and destroying some of them, he was supervised and restricted by the Board.  After troubling and offensive encounters with the public, he was allowed less frequent contact with visitors.

His unpredictable behaviors prompted the president of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation board to write to Henry, pleading for his cooperation by appealing to the memory of Henry Clay, his mother, and the interest of the public:

It has been brought to my attention that you have given away certain pieces of furniture at Ashland…The board of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation feels that it was the intent and purpose of your mother to leave Ashland as a worthy memorial to your distinguished ancestor, Henry Clay.  I feel sure that you will want to cooperate with all the good citizens interested in Ashland in keeping this lovely home intact…in order that visitors may find the same articles of furniture that have taken on such a rich historical interest. (November 18, 1952.)

This uncomfortable mix of public and private interests—a private person living within a public museum—lasted until 1959.  With the Board’s help, Henry Bullock moved into his own home and the Foundation began to renovate the second floor for opening in 1962.

Interpreting Henry Clay in a Charming Home Environment

03 Tuesday Feb 2015

Posted by in Artifacts, historic house museum, house museum, Museum Era (1950 - )

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1950s-1970s

Unlike many historic house museums, the public display of Ashland’s collection got its start in the domestic realm of the founder’s—Henry Clay’s—home some 150 years before.  The coexistence of home and museum actually has a long history at Ashland; exhibiting and interpreting artifacts for the public has been occurring for almost two centuries.  Clay interpreted America’s history at home while his descendants at Ashland interpreted his life.

Mrs. Seay leading a tour of Ashland, dining room, c1950s

With the departure of the family and the entrance of museum professionals in the 20th century, the interpretation of Ashland shifted.  As Clay and his family worked to assimilate a museum display function into the context of their private home, the institutional museum had to decide how best to create a historically accurate museum interpretation within a domestic environment.

Ashland, an official public museum since 1950, experienced some challenges regarding its artifact collection that Clay’s family had never known.  Without family occupants naturally lending legitimacy, the onus of establishing authenticity belonged to the museum.  The desire to make the museum appear to be a ‘real’ family home was paramount, but it was coupled with the drive to secure authentic Henry Clay artifacts.

Clothing on display in the c. 1950s Henry Clay bedroom (current Ash bedroom)

As Clay’s reputation began to fade in the national memory, it was Ashland’s mission to make him known.  But it would face the fundamental contradiction of the house museum: the more Clay artifacts to display, the more the house looked like a museum and the less it looked like a ‘real’ home.  The more it was made to look like a ‘real’ home, the less of Henry Clay’s life could be shown.

Yet Henry Clay was Ashland’s star attraction.  The museum’s compromise solution was to give a general impression that Ashland was indeed the real Henry Clay family home filled with Clay memorabilia.  The presence of the great array of items belonging to his descendants and unrelated to him—especially the rebuilt house—had to be downplayed or simply ignored.

Henry Clay would feel “right at home…” Excerpt from Lexington Herald-Leader, 19 April 1975

Donations of items with dubious or confused provenance were sometimes accepted by the museum, and any possible link to Clay was claimed.  Lorraine Seay in published interviews increasingly exaggerated the provenance of Ashland’s artifacts, as she knew that possessing Clay items added to Ashland’s appeal:  “Ashland’s charm,” she told Southern Living in April 1967, “is partly derived from the large number of furnishings which were actually used by Henry Clay and his family in the first half of the nineteenth century…”

By 1973, she asserted that “everything” on display at Ashland belonged to the Clay family, and much of it to Henry Clay.  In 1974 she went so far as to claim that Ashland’s collection was fairly complete:  “The house was so completely furnished with family items when we opened it to the public that there are not that many family possessions which are not already here.” (Lexington Herald, 15 May 1974.)

While it is true that the initial Ashland collection was relatively substantial and the house appeared adequately furnished from the start, Mrs. Seay had no inkling of the great number of significant Henry Clay artifacts that would come to Ashland in the decades ahead.

Lorraine Seay with new Ashland artifact, 1969

Mrs. Seay was the creator and shaper of the Ashland interpretation from the 1950s through the 1980s.  Without the professional tools or training that would arrive after her time, she endeavored to craft a suitably Clay-centered and crowd-pleasing narrative from history books, family accounts, and local recollections.  This approach resulted in some erroneous interpretations, such as her exaggeration of the authenticity of Ashland’s appearance in 1975: “The reason Ashland’s twenty rooms are today so little changed from Henry Clay’s Ashland is that all the Clay generations succeeding him fortunately had the habit of storing currently unused furnishings in the attic.” (Lexington Herald-Leader, 19 April 1975.)  She clearly wanted to give the impression that the Henry Clay collection had always been located at Ashland, though, in fact, much of the collection had been long dispersed …and, in fact, had never been stored in Ashland’s attic.

But Mrs. Seay admittedly faced a difficult interpretive task.  Not only were there five generations’ objects to manage, but the original house was gone.  Ashland nonetheless had to single-mindedly promote Henry Clay and attract visitors in order to remain a viable institution.  While Clay’s family had lived comfortably with many of these same objects that represented their own and prior generations, the need to teach visitors about Henry Clay had been nearly non-existent for them: nineteenth-century Americans did not need to be told who he was and what he had done; significant artifacts required no explanation.  But the mid-twentieth-century interpretation needed to explain Henry Clay to ever greater numbers of visitors who were ignorant of him and his historic role.  Seay and her colleagues had to explain Clay in a complex and potentially confusing environment.

Mrs. Seay and the Foundation worked to interpret Henry Clay at Ashland, yet the desire to communicate the charm of the domestic—‘real’ home—environment was strong.  Mrs. Seay accomplished this by highlighting particularly attractive furnishings such as draperies, wall-coverings, china, and silver, insinuating that these very contents once comprised Henry Clay’s abode.  Personal items like beds, washstands, chamber pots, and grooming items were now out in public view and delighted visitors, as did the Ashland kitchen, which was presented as a crowd-pleasing Colonial kitchen.

Ashland kitchen as interpreted c. 1960s-80s

Considering the appeal and popularity of accurately-furnished period rooms, it is not surprising that interpretive tension ensued when the museum needed to incorporate non-domestic Henry Clay artifacts.  Ashland possessed a growing collection of Clay objects, many important illustrative items that would not normally have been on display in a home.  The need to provide accurate historic interpretation—of Henry Clay most of all—was weighed against the presentation of an idealized domestic vision.  As much as Ashland wanted to be the charming, old-fashioned home, Henry Clay artifacts took precedence.  Telling the Henry Clay story through these items, however unrealistic their display in a room, was one of Ashland’s early interpretive approaches.

A Henry Clay campaign banner hanging in the drawing room, c. 1950s

The conflict between the appearance of a home and the educational obligation of the museum was seen in such things as the display of a large Henry Clay campaign banner in the drawing room—a very out-of-context display.  Also, a glass display case in the Henry Clay bedroom featured Clay’s Ghent jacket and a ruby red dress, thought to have belonged to Lucretia Clay.  These fragile items were adequately protected and on display to enlighten visitors, but consequently the rooms no longer looked like ‘real’ rooms in a family home.

SEE ALSO Opening Day! AND New Life as a House Museum: Just Like a “Real Home.”

Living in the Museum

12 Monday May 2014

Posted by in historic house museum, Museum Era (1950 - ), Public Hospitality, Tours

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1950s

Many visitors to Ashland in the 1950s would never have realized that the mansion continued to be a private home.  This reality was downplayed—if not hidden—from public view for nine years.

Museum Director Lorraine Seay’s public hospitality was complicated by the presence of great-great-grandson Henry McDowell Bullock (1893-1976), who resided on the second floor.

Henry Bullock 1917

Before his mother Nannette died in 1948, she had granted him a life estate and provided for his residence at Ashland for as long as he chose to live there.  She knew that his health was weak.  His presence may not have been a cause for problems, but Henry suffered psychological maladies of some kind and his erratic behavior substantially challenged the museum’s operation.

Clay family historian Lindsey Apple relays that there are many stories about Henry Bullock’s antics: everything from shouting from the front balcony and shooting his gun to frighten children playing on the lawn to greeting a group of ladies at the front door with nothing on but an open robe.  During an ‘erratic spell’ he damaged oil paintings in the house with a sword.

Mrs. Seay and the Foundation had initially allowed Henry to conduct tours of the mansion, but he declined to follow instructions – preferring to do things his own way.  She expressed her frustration to the Board: “I tried to let him help show the house for quite some time when I first came, but found that he would not conform to what we thought was best…” (December 7, 1952.)

Henry was perhaps enjoying his role as proud descendant and imitator of Henry Clay when he conducted ‘unauthorized’ tours of the house after hours, including ‘off-limits’ areas such as the attic and basement.  In fact, he was so enthusiastic about welcoming the public that he petitioned the Foundation to open the house every day and night of the week.

Henry Bullock, 1950

He was also generous with artifacts in the home, offering to sell or give them away to visitors.  Seay found herself having to respond to an out-of-state visitor who had taken Henry’s unofficial tour and had been told that he could purchase a chair and picture frame from Ashland:

In the first place Mr. Bullock is not well and we do not want him to show people through the house particularly after hours.  Also, guests are not permitted to go all over the house – that is, upstairs and in the storage rooms.  Nothing in the house is for sale as in the future we plan to open the entire house and will need many things…I felt that you would appreciate a frank explanation of the situation. (March 13, 1953.)

Throughout the 1950s, the public and private realms clashed within the very walls of Ashland.   Public interests (represented by the Foundation and Mrs. Seay) came up against the private interests of the family (represented by Henry Bullock).  Henry’s mother’s dual desire to provide the public access – while providing her son a home – in a way prompted the struggle.  But Henry’s enthusiasm, zealous generosity, and unrestrained accommodation inevitably went too far for Mrs. Seay and the Foundation.

Henry’s unwillingness to comply with the museum’s rules may have arisen from his mental state, but may also have been due to the fact that, for most of his life, Ashland had been his private home and he naturally wanted some level of control over his private residence.  Perhaps the entire mansion—not just his second-floor apartment—still seemed his private domain.  Now a middle-aged man, he understandably thought it his right to do as he pleased there.

Henry Bullock, 1938

Mrs. Seay grew exasperated at some of Henry’s efforts at control.  Refusing to use the modern gas furnace, he would not turn the upstairs portion on, causing the downstairs portion to become “overworked” heating the entire mansion.  During the first three years that Ashland was open to the public, Mrs. Seay and the caretaker had no keys to the mansion and relied on Henry to open the doors for them each day.  But he refused to abide by daylight saving time, thus for much of the year his schedule varied by one hour, which resulted in “a great deal of confusion”  for Mrs. Seay.  The Foundation Board voted to give Mrs. Seay and the caretaker their own keys.

Henry’s problematic actions inevitably thwarted his freedom.  After giving tours during off-hours and in off-limits areas, the Foundation prohibited him from doing so.  After offering or giving away artifacts and destroying some of them, he was supervised and restricted by the Board.  After troubling and offensive encounters with the public, he was allowed less frequent contact with visitors.

His unpredictable behaviors prompted the president of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation board to write to Henry, pleading for his cooperation by appealing to the memory of Henry Clay, his mother, and the interest of the public:

It has been brought to my attention that you have given away certain pieces of furniture at Ashland…The board of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation feels that it was the intent and purpose of your mother to leave Ashland as a worthy memorial to your distinguished ancestor, Henry Clay.  I feel sure that you will want to cooperate with all the good citizens interested in Ashland in keeping this lovely home intact…in order that visitors may find the same articles of furniture that have taken on such a rich historical interest. (November 18, 1952.)

This uncomfortable mix of public and private interests—a private person living within a public museum—lasted until 1959.  With the Board’s help, Henry Bullock moved into his own home and the Foundation began to renovate the second floor for opening in 1962.

Paying Tribute to Henry Clay at Ashland

04 Wednesday Sep 2013

Posted by in Artifacts, historic house museum, house museum, James and Susan Clay Era (1852-1866)

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1857

After Henry Clay’s death, his national historic-themed display at Ashland evolved into son James’s Henry Clay tribute display.  James and Susan continued the practice of displaying artifacts within the mansion for public viewing, but now the collection centered on those related to Clay’s life.  They honored Henry Clay’s collection by repeating and embellishing it with more of his own possessions.

Henry Clay artifacts

When Clay died, his possessions had been distributed among family and friends, the majority among his sons, and much of his historical collection was dispersed.  While most of his belongings would be kept in the private homes of his descendants, James and Susan followed Clay’s lead and encouraged public viewing of the artifacts they had inherited.  Virtually every Henry Clay artifact that they owned was carefully and proudly exhibited in the public rooms at Ashland.

Like Clay, they provided a view of the past—which was now Henry Clay in the context of America’s history—to the public.  This exhibition, then, separated their collection from other Clay family members’ domestic displays, and caused Ashland to function as something of a public museum once again.

Yet the Ashland house itself—newly rebuilt—was the most precious Henry Clay artifact James and Susan possessed.  Even in its new incarnation, it more than anything else symbolized Henry Clay and it served to envelop all the other artifacts.  Susan defended the rebuilding of the mansion specifically because of its function as a worthy container of Clay artifacts, claiming that the association of Ashland and Henry Clay would be better made for pilgrims to this “shrine” through the creation of a fitting edifice to “enclose the interesting memorials of the Patriot.”  The new Ashland mansion now represented and paid tribute to the old Ashland and was itself a display item.  James and Susan’s house not only enclosed a museum, it was a crucial element of that museum.

Italian marble mantel in new Ashland

As Clay had believed in the power of objects to inspire patriotism, so James and Susan did when they reopened Ashland, filled with artifacts “with which the rooms…abound…”  James’s inherited artifacts included the large painting of The Washington Family, re-installed in its original parlor location.

But not only did they exhibit many of the items that Clay himself had displayed, now the objects that he had personally used came before the public and became just as highly revered.  James and Susan obviously agreed with Henry Clay’s sentiment that tangible objects—those actually touched by the person—were especially powerful.  Clay’s personal possessions, especially those related to the great accomplishment that was the 1814 Treaty of Ghent, were now well represented; his ceremonial Ghent jacket and other items from his European trip symbolized his work as a peace commissioner and the larger idea of world peace.

On display in James and Susan’s Ashland: Clay’s Treaty of Ghent jacket.

Guided by Susan through the public rooms of the house, an impressed 1857 visitor described these and other items:

I entered the study—HENRY CLAY’S library, studded with memorials of him—with feelings almost of awe.  I sat on the old, well preserved, old-fashioned chair, sat in oft by him…examined his writing and dressing case, inscribed ‘H. Clay, American Minister, Ghent,’ lifted his ink-stand, so long the fountain into which his pen was dipped when conducting his correspondence and compositions…Here are old tables and sofas as they were used by the Ashland sage…A tortoise case containing his gold spectacles…A circular gold snuff box containing a lock of Henry Clay’s hair and a lock of Mrs. Clay’s…A diamond ring of great brilliance, on his finger when he died… (Cincinnati Daily Gazette, 4 Jul 1857)

In the new Ashland, Henry Clay’s biography was put in the context of the larger American story.  His relics placed alongside George Washington’s sent a clear message about Clay’s importance and place in the national drama.  In the anxiety-fraught final years before the war, James and Susan in essence, through Clay’s legacy, continued his efforts to save the Union.  Antebellum Americans considered Henry Clay the Great Compromiser, the one who for so long preserved the Union, thus it was probably with urgent and passionate purpose that James and Susan created a tribute to Henry Clay that served to make his name and cause immortal.

The elegant rebuilt house and luxurious interiors as backdrop for Clay relics underscored Clay’s eminence with particular dignity.  James and Susan’s home would not simply be a family home with personal memorabilia; this was a public museum, patriotic shrine, and site of apotheosis and inspiration.

Living in the Museum

10 Friday May 2013

Posted by in historic house museum, Museum Era (1950 - ), Public Hospitality, Tours

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1950s

Many visitors to Ashland in the 1950s would never have realized that the mansion continued to be a private home.  This reality was downplayed—if not hidden—from public view for nine years. 

Museum Director Lorraine Seay’s public hospitality was complicated by the presence of great-great-grandson Henry McDowell Bullock (1893-1976), who resided on the second floor.

Henry Bullock 1917

Before his mother Nannette died in 1948, she had granted him a life estate and provided for his residence at Ashland for as long as he chose to live there.  She knew that his health was weak.  His presence may not have been a cause for problems, but Henry suffered psychological maladies of some kind and his erratic behavior substantially challenged the museum’s operation.

Clay family historian Lindsey Apple relays that there are many stories about Henry Bullock’s antics: everything from shouting from the front balcony and shooting his gun to frighten children playing on the lawn to greeting a group of ladies at the front door with nothing on but an open robe.  During an ‘erratic spell’ he damaged oil paintings in the house with a sword.

Mrs. Seay and the Foundation had initially allowed Henry to conduct tours of the mansion, but declined to follow instructions – preferring to do things his own way.  She expressed her frustration to the Board: “I tried to let him help show the house for quite some time when I first came, but found that he would not conform to what we thought was best…” (December 7, 1952.)

Henry was perhaps enjoying his role as proud descendant and imitator of Henry Clay when he conducted ‘unauthorized’ tours of the house after hours, including ‘off-limits’ areas such as the attic and basement.  In fact, he was so enthusiastic about welcoming the public that he petitioned the Foundation to open the house every day and night of the week.

Henry Bullock, 1950

He was also generous with artifacts in the home, offering to sell or give them away to visitors.  Seay found herself having to respond to an out-of-state visitor who had taken Henry’s unofficial tour and had been told that he could purchase a chair and picture frame from Ashland:

In the first place Mr. Bullock is not well and we do not want him to show people through the house particularly after hours.  Also, guests are not permitted to go all over the house – that is, upstairs and in the storage rooms.  Nothing in the house is for sale as in the future we plan to open the entire house and will need many things…I felt that you would appreciate a frank explanation of the situation. (March 13, 1953.)

Throughout the 1950s, the public and private realms clashed within the very walls of Ashland.   Public interests (represented by the Foundation and Mrs. Seay) came up against the private interests of the family (represented by Henry Bullock).  Henry’s mother’s dual desire to provide the public access – while providing her son a home – in a way prompted the struggle.  But Henry’s enthusiasm, zealous generosity, and unrestrained accommodation inevitably went too far for Mrs. Seay and the Foundation.

Henry’s unwillingness to comply with the museum’s rules may have arisen from his mental state, but may also have been due to the fact that, for most of his life, Ashland had been his private home and he naturally wanted some level of control over his private residence.  Perhaps the entire mansion—not just his second-floor apartment—still seemed his private domain.  Now a middle-aged man, he understandably thought it his right to do as he pleased there.

Henry Bullock, 1938

Mrs. Seay grew exasperated at some of Henry’s efforts at control.  Refusing to use the modern gas furnace, he would not turn the upstairs portion on, causing the downstairs portion to become “overworked” heating the entire mansion.  During the first three years that Ashland was open to the public, Mrs. Seay and the caretaker had no keys to the mansion and relied on Henry to open the doors for them each day.  But he refused to abide by daylight saving time, thus for much of the year his schedule varied by one hour, which resulted in “a great deal of confusion”  for Mrs. Seay.  The Foundation Board voted to give Mrs. Seay and the caretaker their own keys.

Henry’s problematic actions inevitably thwarted his freedom.  After giving tours during off-hours and in off-limits areas, the Foundation prohibited him from doing so.  After offering or giving away artifacts and destroying some of them, he was supervised and restricted by the Board.  After troubling and offensive encounters with the public, he was allowed less frequent contact with visitors.

His unpredictable behaviors prompted the president of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation board to write to Henry, pleading for his cooperation by appealing to the memory of Henry Clay, his mother, and the interest of the public:

It has been brought to my attention that you have given away certain pieces of furniture at Ashland…The board of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation feels that it was the intent and purpose of your mother to leave Ashland as a worthy memorial to your distinguished ancestor, Henry Clay.  I feel sure that you will want to cooperate with all the good citizens interested in Ashland in keeping this lovely home intact…in order that visitors may find the same articles of furniture that have taken on such a rich historical interest. (November 18, 1952.)

This uncomfortable mix of public and private interests—a private person living within a public museum—lasted until 1959.  With the Board’s help, Henry Bullock moved into his own home and the Foundation began to renovate the second floor for opening in 1962.

Interpreting Henry Clay in a Charming Home Environment

06 Saturday Apr 2013

Posted by in Artifacts, historic house museum, house museum, Museum Era (1950 - )

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1950s-1970s

Unlike many historic house museums, the public display of Ashland’s collection got its start in the domestic realm of the founder’s—Henry Clay’s—home some 150 years before.  The coexistence of home and museum actually has a long history at Ashland; exhibiting and interpreting artifacts for the public has been occurring for almost two centuries.  Clay interpreted America’s history at home while his descendants at Ashland interpreted his life.

Mrs. Seay leading a tour of Ashland, dining room, c1950s

With the departure of the family and the entrance of museum professionals in the 20th century, the interpretation of Ashland shifted.  As Clay and his family worked to assimilate a museum display function into the context of their private home, the institutional museum had to decide how best to create a historically accurate museum interpretation within a domestic environment.

Ashland, an official public museum since 1950, experienced some challenges regarding its artifact collection that Clay’s family had never known.  Without family occupants naturally lending legitimacy, the onus of establishing authenticity belonged to the museum.  The desire to make the museum appear to be a ‘real’ family home was paramount, but it was coupled with the drive to secure authentic Henry Clay artifacts.

Clothing on display in the c. 1950s Henry Clay bedroom (current Ash bedroom)

As Clay’s reputation began to fade in the national memory, it was Ashland’s mission to make him known.  But it would face the fundamental contradiction of the house museum: the more Clay artifacts to display, the more the house looked like a museum and the less it looked like a ‘real’ home.  The more it was made to look like a ‘real’ home, the less of Henry Clay’s life could be shown.

Yet Henry Clay was Ashland’s star attraction.  The museum’s compromise solution was to give a general impression that Ashland was indeed the real Henry Clay family home filled with Clay memorabilia.  The presence of the great array of items belonging to his descendants and unrelated to him—especially the rebuilt house—had to be downplayed or simply ignored.

Henry Clay would feel “right at home…” Excerpt from Lexington Herald-Leader, 19 April 1975

Donations of items with dubious or confused provenance were sometimes accepted by the museum, and any possible link to Clay was claimed.  Lorraine Seay in published interviews increasingly exaggerated the provenance of Ashland’s artifacts, as she knew that possessing Clay items added to Ashland’s appeal:  “Ashland’s charm,” she told Southern Living in April  1967, “is partly derived from the large number of furnishings which were actually used by Henry Clay and his family in the first half of the nineteenth century…”  By 1973, she asserted that “everything” on display at Ashland belonged to the Clay family, and much of it to Henry Clay.  In 1974 she went so far as to claim that Ashland’s collection was fairly complete:  “The house was so completely furnished with family items when we opened it to the public that there are not that many family possessions which are not already here.” (Lexington Herald, 15 May 1974.)  While it is true that the initial Ashland collection was relatively substantial and the house appeared adequately furnished from the start, Mrs. Seay had no inkling of the great number of significant Henry Clay artifacts that would come to Ashland in the decades ahead.

Lorraine Seay with new Ashland artifact, 1969

Mrs. Seay was the creator and shaper of the Ashland interpretation from the 1950s through the 1980s.  Without the professional tools or training that would arrive after her time, she endeavored to craft a suitably Clay-centered and crowd-pleasing narrative from history books, family accounts, and local recollections.  This approach resulted in some erroneous interpretations, such as her exaggeration of the authenticity of Ashland’s appearance in 1975: “The reason Ashland’s twenty rooms are today so little changed from Henry Clay’s Ashland is that all the Clay generations succeeding him fortunately had the habit of storing currently unused furnishings in the attic.” (Lexington Herald-Leader, 19 April 1975.)  She clearly wanted to give the impression that the Henry Clay collection had always been located at Ashland, though, in fact, much of the collection had been long dispersed …and, in fact, had never been stored in Ashland’s attic.

But Mrs. Seay admittedly faced a difficult interpretive task.  Not only were there five generations’ objects to manage, but the original house was gone.  Ashland nonetheless had to single-mindedly promote Henry Clay and attract visitors in order to remain a viable institution.  While Clay’s family had lived comfortably with many of these same objects that represented their own and prior generations, the need to teach visitors about Henry Clay had been nearly non-existent for them: nineteenth-century Americans did not need to be told who he was and what he had done; significant artifacts required no explanation.  But the mid-twentieth-century interpretation needed to explain Henry Clay to ever greater numbers of visitors who were ignorant of him and his historic role.  Seay and her colleagues had to explain Clay in a complex and potentially confusing environment.

Mrs. Seay and the Foundation worked to interpret Henry Clay at Ashland, yet the desire to communicate the charm of the domestic—‘real’ home—environment was strong.  Mrs. Seay accomplished this by highlighting particularly attractive furnishings such as draperies, wall-coverings, china, and silver, insinuating that these very contents once comprised Henry Clay’s abode.  Personal items like beds, washstands, chamber pots, and grooming items were now out in public view and delighted visitors, as did the Ashland kitchen, which was presented as a crowd-pleasing Colonial kitchen.

Ashland kitchen as interpreted c. 1960s-80s

Considering the appeal and popularity of accurately-furnished period rooms, it is not surprising that interpretive tension ensued when the museum needed to incorporate non-domestic Henry Clay artifacts.  Ashland possessed a growing collection of Clay artifacts, many important illustrative items that would not normally have been on display in a home.  The need to provide accurate historic interpretation—of Henry Clay most of all—was weighed against the presentation of an idealized domestic vision.  As much as Ashland wanted to be the charming, old-fashioned home, Henry Clay artifacts took precedence.  Telling the Henry Clay story through these items, however unrealistic their display in a room, was one of Ashland’s early interpretive approaches.

A Henry Clay campaign banner hanging in the drawing room, c. 1950s

The conflict between the appearance of a home and the educational obligation of the museum was seen in such things as the display of a large Henry Clay campaign banner in the drawing room—a very out-of-context display.  Also, a glass display case in the Henry Clay bedroom featured Clay’s Ghent jacket and a ruby red dress, thought to have belonged to Lucretia Clay.  These fragile items were adequately protected and on display to enlighten visitors, but consequently the rooms no longer looked like ‘real’ rooms in a family home.

SEE ALSO Opening Day! AND New Life as a House Museum: Just Like a “Real Home“.

Living in the Museum

07 Monday Nov 2011

Posted by in historic house museum, Museum Era (1950 - ), Public Hospitality, Tours

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1950s

Many visitors to Ashland in the 1950s would never have realized that the mansion continued to be a private home.  This reality was downplayed—if not hidden—from public view for nine years.  Lorraine Seay’s public hospitality was complicated by the presence of great-great-grandson Henry McDowell Bullock (1893-1976), who resided on the second floor.

Henry Bullock 1917

Before his mother Nannette died in 1948, she had granted him a life estate and provided for his residence at Ashland for as long as he chose to live there.  She knew that his health was weak.  His presence may not have been a cause for problems, but Henry suffered psychological maladies of some kind and his erratic behavior substantially challenged the museum’s operation.

Clay family historian Lindsey Apple relays that there are many stories about Henry Bullock’s antics: everything from shouting from the front balcony and shooting his gun to frighten children playing on the lawn to greeting a group of ladies at the front door with nothing on but an open robe.  During an ‘erratic spell’ he damaged oil paintings in the house with a sword.

Mrs. Seay and the Foundation had initially allowed Henry to conduct tours of the mansion, but he preferred to do things his own way.  She expressed her frustration to the Board: “I tried to let him help show the house for quite some time when I first came, but found that he would not conform to what we thought was best…” (December 7, 1952.)

Henry was perhaps enjoying his role as proud descendant and imitator of Henry Clay when he conducted ‘unauthorized’ tours of the house after hours, including ‘off-limits’ areas such as the attic and basement.  In fact, he was so enthusiastic about welcoming the public that he petitioned the Foundation to open the house every day and night of the week.

Henry Bullock, 1950

He was also generous with artifacts in the home, offering to sell or give them away to visitors.  Seay found herself having to respond to an out-of-state visitor who had taken Henry’s unofficial tour and had been told that he could purchase a chair and picture frame from Ashland:

In the first place Mr. Bullock is not well and we do not want him to show people through the house particularly after hours.  Also, guests are not permitted to go all over the house – that is, upstairs and in the storage rooms.  Nothing in the house is for sale as in the future we plan to open the entire house and will need many things…I felt that you would appreciate a frank explanation of the situation. (March 13, 1953.)

Throughout the 1950s, the public and private realms clashed within the very walls of Ashland.   Public interests (represented by the Foundation and Mrs. Seay) came up against the private interests of the family (represented by Henry Bullock).  Henry’s mother’s dual desire to provide the public access while providing her son a home in a way prompted the struggle.  But Henry’s enthusiasm, zealous generosity, and unrestrained accommodation inevitably went too far for Mrs. Seay and the Foundation.

Henry’s unwillingness to comply with the museum’s rules may have arisen from his mental state, but may also have been due to the fact that, for most of his life, Ashland had been his private home and he naturally wanted some level of control over his private residence.  Perhaps the entire mansion—not just his second-floor apartment—still seemed his private domain.  Now a middle-aged man, he understandably thought it his right to do as he pleased there.

Henry Bullock, 1938

Mrs. Seay grew exasperated at some of Henry’s efforts at control.  Refusing to use the modern gas furnace, he would not turn the upstairs portion on, causing the downstairs portion to become “overworked” heating the entire mansion.  During the first three years that Ashland was open to the public, Mrs. Seay and the caretaker had no keys to the mansion and relied on Henry to open the doors for them each day.  But he refused to abide by daylight saving time, thus for much of the year his schedule varied by one hour, which resulted in “a great deal of confusion for Mrs. Seay and the servants who have had difficulty in gaining entry to the house in the mornings.”  The Foundation Board voted to give Mrs. Seay and the caretaker their own keys.

Henry’s problematic actions inevitably thwarted his freedom.  After giving tours during off-hours and in off-limits areas, the Foundation prohibited him from doing so.  After offering or giving away artifacts and destroying some of them, he was supervised and restricted by the Board.  After troubling and offensive encounters with the public, he was allowed less frequent contact with visitors.

His unpredictable behaviors prompted the president of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation board to write to Henry, pleading for his cooperation by appealing to the memory of Henry Clay, his mother, and the interest of the public:

It has been brought to my attention that you have given away certain pieces of furniture at Ashland…The board of the Henry Clay Memorial Foundation feels that it was the intent and purpose of your mother to leave Ashland as a worthy memorial to your distinguished ancestor, Henry Clay.  I feel sure that you will want to cooperate with all the good citizens interested in Ashland in keeping this lovely home intact…in order that visitors may find the same articles of furniture that have taken on such a rich historical interest. (November 18, 1952.)

This uncomfortable mix of public and private interests—a private person living within a public museum—lasted until 1959.  With the Board’s help, Henry Bullock moved into his own home and the Foundation began to renovate the second floor for opening in 1962.

Interpreting Henry Clay in a Charming Home Environment

26 Wednesday Oct 2011

Posted by in Artifacts, historic house museum, house museum, Museum Era (1950 - )

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

YOU ARE HERE -> 1950s-1970s

Unlike many historic house museums, the public display of Ashland’s collection got its start in the domestic realm of the founder’s—Henry Clay’s—home some 150 years before.  The coexistence of home and museum actually has a long history at Ashland; exhibiting and interpreting artifacts for the public has been occurring for almost two centuries.  Clay interpreted America’s history at home while his descendants at Ashland interpreted his life.

Mrs. Seay leading a tour of Ashland, dining room, c1950s

With the departure of the family and the entrance of museum professionals in the 20th century, the interpretation of Ashland shifted.  As Clay and his family worked to assimilate a museum display function into the context of their private home, the institutional museum had to decide how best to create a historically accurate museum interpretation within a domestic environment.

Ashland, an official public museum since 1950, experienced some challenges regarding its artifact collection that Clay’s family had never known.  Without family occupants naturally lending legitimacy, the onus of establishing authenticity belonged to the museum.  The desire to make the museum appear to be a ‘real’ family home was paramount, but it was coupled with the drive to secure authentic Henry Clay artifacts.

Clothing on display in the c. 1950s Henry Clay bedroom (current Ash bedroom)

As Clay’s reputation began to fade in the national memory, it was Ashland’s mission to make him known.  But it would face the fundamental contradiction of the house museum: the more Clay artifacts to display, the more the house looked like a museum and the less it looked like a ‘real’ home.  The more it was made to look like a ‘real’ home, the less of Henry Clay’s life could be shown.

Yet Henry Clay was Ashland’s star attraction.  The museum’s compromise solution was to give a general impression that Ashland was indeed the real Henry Clay family home filled with Clay memorabilia.  The presence of the great array of items belonging to his descendants and unrelated to him—especially the rebuilt house—had to be downplayed or simply ignored.

Henry Clay would feel "right at home..." Excerpt from Lexington Herald-Leader, 19 April 1975

Donations of items with dubious or confused provenance were sometimes accepted by the museum, and any possible link to Clay was claimed.  Lorraine Seay in published interviews increasingly exaggerated the provenance of Ashland’s artifacts, as she knew that possessing Clay items added to Ashland’s appeal:  “Ashland’s charm,” she told Southern Living in April  1967, “is partly derived from the large number of furnishings which were actually used by Henry Clay and his family in the first half of the nineteenth century…”  By 1973, she asserted that “everything” on display at Ashland belonged to the Clay family, and much of it to Henry Clay.  In 1974 she went so far as to claim that Ashland’s collection was fairly complete:  “The house was so completely furnished with family items when we opened it to the public that there are not that many family possessions which are not already here.” (Lexington Herald, 15 May 1974.)  While it is true that the initial Ashland collection was relatively substantial and the house appeared adequately furnished from the start, Mrs. Seay had no inkling of the great number of significant Henry Clay artifacts that would come to Ashland in the decades ahead.

Lorraine Seay with new Ashland artifact, 1969

Mrs. Seay was the creator and shaper of the Ashland interpretation from the 1950s through the 1980s.  Without the professional tools or training that would arrive after her time, she endeavored to craft a suitably Clay-centered and crowd-pleasing narrative from history books, family accounts, and local recollections.  This approach resulted in some erroneous interpretations, such as her exaggeration of the authenticity of Ashland’s appearance in 1975: “The reason Ashland’s twenty rooms are today so little changed from Henry Clay’s Ashland is that all the Clay generations succeeding him fortunately had the habit of storing currently unused furnishings in the attic.” (Lexington Herald-Leader, 19 April 1975.)  She clearly wanted to give the impression that the Henry Clay collection had always been located at Ashland, though, in fact, much of the collection had been long dispersed …and, in fact, had never been stored in Ashland’s attic.

But Mrs. Seay admittedly faced a difficult interpretive task.  Not only were there five generations’ objects to manage, but the original house was gone.  Ashland nonetheless had to single-mindedly promote Henry Clay and attract visitors in order to remain a viable institution.  While Clay’s family had lived comfortably with many of these same objects that represented their own and prior generations, the need to teach visitors about Henry Clay had been nearly non-existent for them: nineteenth-century Americans did not need to be told who he was and what he had done; significant artifacts required no explanation.  But the mid-twentieth-century interpretation needed to explain Henry Clay to ever greater numbers of visitors who were ignorant of him and his historic role.  Seay and her colleagues had to explain Clay in a complex and potentially confusing environment.

Mrs. Seay and the Foundation worked to interpret Henry Clay at Ashland, yet the desire to communicate the charm of the domestic—‘real’ home—environment was strong.  Mrs. Seay accomplished this by highlighting particularly attractive furnishings such as draperies, wall-coverings, china, and silver, insinuating that these very contents once comprised Henry Clay’s abode.  Personal items like beds, washstands, chamber pots, and grooming items were now out in public view and delighted visitors, as did the Ashland kitchen, which was presented as a crowd-pleasing Colonial kitchen.

Ashland kitchen as interpreted c. 1960s-80s

Considering the appeal and popularity of accurately-furnished period rooms, it is not surprising that interpretive tension ensued when the museum needed to incorporate non-domestic Henry Clay artifacts.  Ashland possessed a growing collection of Clay artifacts, many important illustrative items that would not normally have been on display in a home.  The need to provide accurate historic interpretation—of Henry Clay most of all—was weighed against the presentation of an idealized domestic vision.  As much as Ashland wanted to be the charming, old-fashioned home, Henry Clay artifacts took precedence.  Telling the Henry Clay story through these items, however unrealistic their display in a room, was one of Ashland’s early interpretive approaches.

A Henry Clay campaign banner hanging in the drawing room, c. 1950s

The conflict between the appearance of a home and the educational obligation of the museum was seen in such things as the display of a large Henry Clay campaign banner in the drawing room—a very out-of-context display.  Also, a glass display case in the Henry Clay bedroom featured Clay’s Ghent jacket and a ruby red dress, thought to have belonged to Lucretia Clay.  These fragile items were adequately protected and on display to enlighten visitors, but consequently the rooms no longer looked like ‘real’ rooms in a family home.

SEE ALSO Opening Day! AND New Life as a House Museum: Just Like a “Real Home“.